The Beginning and the End

FIFTY-FOUR

Worried and depressed, he remained alone; his worry increased as time went by. He no longer entertained any doubt that his secret had been discovered. In his attempt at reassuring himself, he wondered why his imagination was running wild. He hoped that his mother’s visit would end in peace. Surely they would not hint at anything. Yet would she fail to discover the truth if she saw Ihsan? In the gathering darkness, he rose and lit a kerosene lamp. Then, hearing a knock on the door, his heart beat violently. He opened it for his mother to enter.

“I don’t think I was away for long,” she said.

They both entered the room. He stood leaning on the windowsill. Silently she started to take off her overcoat and shoes.

I know it, he thought. Her face is hiding something, many things. I’ll bet she didn’t go to the trouble of traveling to Tanta just to be reassured about my health. My mother is not that weak. She is kind indeed, but unquestionably strong. When will this dreadful silence end?

“How did you find them?” he asked with pretended indifference.

Climbing onto his bed, she sat cross-legged.

“I don’t know why, but my heart didn’t feel at home with them,” she said curtly.

But he knew the reason. His secret had been discovered, much to his dismay.

“The truth is that Hassan Effendi is a good-hearted man,” he said.

“Perhaps! I haven’t met him, of course.”

He would not inquire what caused her uneasiness with them. Better ignore it. But he couldn’t ignore it for long. He saw her looking at her hands, lying clasped in her lap. She was thinking of what she should say. What a serious blunder he’d made! He should not have yielded to the circumstances that tempted him not to send any money to them this month. He, the head of the family, and how far he’d gone astray! He saw his mother looking sullenly at him.

“Now that I’m reassured about your health,” he heard her say, “I don’t think it shameful to tell you frankly that we were frightened when you stopped sending us the money. Excuse me, my son, if I confess to you that I had some doubts that your illness might be a mere pretext!”

“Mother!” he cried in spite of himself.

“Forgive me, my son; sometimes it’s sinful to doubt. But for a long time I’ve been pondering the temptations that beset a lonely young man like you in a strange town. Yes, I trust your wisdom. But Satan is clever, and I was afraid that he might have led you astray. Since you know that my dependence on you is next to my dependence on God, you can easily imagine the extent of my grief. Your brother Hassan is no longer a member of our family. Nefisa is an unfortunate girl. And Hassanein is only a student and will remain so for a long time to come. You know him better than we do. We lead a starving, miserable life to overcome our bad luck. Besides, we’ve lost your share of your late father’s pension, and shortly we’ll lose that of your brother.”

“I need no reminder, Mother,” Hussein said passionately. “It was a mistake. I was forced not to send you the money. I’m really sorry, Mother.”

She spoke tenderly as if in a soliloquy. “It’s I who am sorry.” Then, after a pause, she added, “I’m sorry that I often give the impression of getting in the way of my sons’ happiness.”

“You’re doing yourself great injustice,” he said with concern. “As a mother, you’re the model of clemency.”

“I’m glad you understand me.” Looking into his eyes, she sighed. “Nothing preoccupies my mind so much as the future of your sister, Nefisa. I wish to see her married. But how? We don’t possess a single millieme for her trousseau. It disturbs me deeply to think that I may die before getting her married. You’re men, but she’s a helpless woman with no support.”

“As long as we’re alive, she won’t be without support,” Hussein replied disapprovingly.

“May God prolong your life,” she said, sighing again. “But a girl finds no happiness under a married brother’s roof!”

A knowing look appeared in his eyes. He understood the implication of his mother’s words. Since a girl found no happiness in her married brother’s house, and since Hassanein was almost married, it followed that Hussein should remain single! Sound logic! And compassionate, too! Yet it entailed his death sentence. What could he say? Now he was no longer afraid of her blows, such as she sometimes used to deal to him. But he could not take advantage of this sense of safety to anger her. On the contrary, he would turn it into an innocent incentive to treat her with exaggerated generosity.

“Rest assured, Mother! I hope Nefisa won’t find herself one day in this impasse!”

Intimating that he should put equivocation aside and speak frankly, she shook her head. “In fact, certain lingering thoughts still preoccupy me,” she said. “Despite the trouble and expense of travel, I couldn’t rest until I came to you.”

He smiled. “This means that you didn’t come just to reassure yourself about my health?” The words came forth almost unconsciously, and no sooner had he uttered them than be regretted that they had escaped his lips.

She smiled at him sadly. “Listen to me, Hussein. Do you want to marry?” she asked.

To hide his agitation, he pretended to be upset. “I wonder what makes you think so!” he said.

“Nothing would be dearer to me than to see my sons happily married, but do you want to rush into marriage before your family is able to get on its feet?”

“I’ve never thought of this.”

“Are you annoyed by my intrusion?”

“Never.”

“If I suggested that you postpone any thoughts of marriage, wouldn’t you consider it unfair?”

“This would be fairness and charity in themselves.”

She lowered her eyes. “My real misery,” she said sadly, “doesn’t lie in the catastrophe that has befallen us, but in what I see to be our duty, which might seem cruel and selfish to any person who has only a superficial view of our situation.”

“I’m not such a person, anyhow.”

After a moment of hesitation, she said, “Seeing that you are sympathetic with what I say encourages me to advise you to leave this flat and go back to your room at the hotel.”

His secret was now unearthed. He was stunned.

“The hotel?” he inquired with a murmur.

“You’re ignorant of people,” she said firmly. “Perhaps your neighbors are good folk. But they care only for their own interests. Your neighborly relations with them will turn you against us without your realizing it.”