The Beginning and the End

SIXTY-EIGHT

The days passed and the scholastic year came almost to an end. During the third quarter of the year, Hassanein learned that, so as to increase the size of the Egyptian army after the ratification of the Anglo-Egyptian Treaty, the Minister of War had decided to graduate a group of officers after only one year, and that these new graduates would complete their training after joining their regiments. The students received double work assignments, but they welcomed this additional work with enthusiasm. In fact, the whole business appeared so incredible that it seemed stranger than fiction. None of the students, least of all Hassanein himself, would have imagined that he would become an officer after only one scholastic year, but when the year came to an end, Hassanein graduated.

His mother’s heart filled with delight and she felt secure, like a lost sailor, his food run out and sails torn, finally emerging from an engulfing mist into a safe, clear harbor. She thought: Oh, God! You alone have helped me out of my troubles. Who could compare our situation yesterday, when we were groping in the dark, with our promising, hopeful situation today, without recognizing Your justice and mercy! For the first time in her life she felt contented and happy. To her fading eyes, the long-drawn-out dilemma of her life now appeared in a halo of pleasurable pride as though it had been no more than a casual, forced frown on the forehead of Merciful Fate.

Thus she gave thanks to God and shed tears of joy. She had saved enough from Hussein’s and Nefisa’s money to pay the college fees of the next year. With these savings, Hassanein had an officer’s uniform tailored, which kept him busy until the graduates were assigned to the various regiments. High on the list of successful cadets, he was appointed to the cavalry in Cairo, a piece of good fortune the family would never have dreamt of. Hassanein’s uniform symbolized the fulfillment of his old dreams. As she looked at him with amazement and happiness in her eyes, Samira abandoned her usual taciturnity and solemnity. This was her beloved son, the blossom and cherished dream of her life.

“During the Mahmal ceremony,” he had once said to her, “you and Nefisa will have an excellent opportunity to see me on horseback at the head of the cavalry band!”

“I’ll be there,” she could not help answering, “only if you buy me a decent overcoat to wear before the multitudes crowding the street!”

“Have patience until I receive my salary!” the young man said with a laugh.

These were days of unadulterated happiness and pleasure, although Hassanein had many things to be concerned about. Hoping to establish his happiness on solid, unshakable foundations, when he was alone with his mother in the house he said to her with unusual gravity, “Mother, Nefisa must stop her shameful work at once. It doesn’t become an officer’s sister to work as a dressmaker.”

His mother smiled. “My son, she’d welcome this from the bottom of her heart,” she said simply.

Although he had anticipated these words, they failed to wipe out the thoughts which preoccupied him. “I wish we could erase the past out of existence,” he continued with a melancholy sigh. “I’m afraid some people might bring it up to hurt us. You know how people are! If my colleagues ever heard of it, my prestige would suffer.”

His concern partly infecting her, she smiled and patted his shoulder to banish his worries. “We were poor, and most people are poor,” she said. “There’s nothing in that to be ashamed of.”

He shook his head in protest. He said with sorrow, “This is more idle talk. You know people better than I do.”

“My son, I don’t want you to poison your peace of mind with such thoughts!”

As if deaf to her words, he added, “This alley knows the humble circumstances of our life. So I can’t bear to stay in it.”

Fearing that her happiness might be totally destroyed, she begged him. “Don’t you worry. Time will straighten out these matters.”

Staring curiously at his mother, he envied her self-control. But soon he became angry at her indifference to the dangers, which were exaggerated in his imagination. “True,” he said sharply, “time will straighten matters out, but only after destroying me.”

A look of terror appeared in the woman’s eyes. Gently reproachful, she replied, “I see you’re impatient and anticipating trouble as usual. My advice to you is not to get your actual happiness mixed up with insignificant sorrows, which are only imaginary.”

“Insignificant!” he exclaimed.

“Yes, insignificant.”

“You consider insignificant Nefisa’s past and the things the inhabitants of this quarter know about us?”

“Unless you have faith in God, you’ll never know real happiness.”

“I wish I could drop a heavy curtain on our past,” Hassanein sighed.

“Have patience and it will happen.”

Inflamed with anger, the young man grew impatient. “I fear nothing,” he said, “more than this patience you’re asking me to have. Look at this mean alley and this house, which is bare of furniture. Do you think I can hide them forever from my colleagues?”

Feeling miserable, the woman realized that her life was doomed to anguish. “Do things gradually!” she said bitterly. “We had no food to eat, but look where we are now!”

Shaking his head with sorrow, he said, “Mother, I didn’t mean to make you angry. But these days I think very much of the troubles that threaten us. I’ve only mentioned some of them, and perhaps those I’ve not mentioned are much graver. Look, for example, at my brother Hassan and his way of life. Surrounded by these troubles, how can we possibly lead a quiet life?!”

She studied his face, astonished by his ability to fish for worries. Desperately, she murmured, “Leave God’s creatures to their Creator. We have always been so. Yet we neither perished nor were we destroyed.”

“I wasn’t an officer then,” Hassanein protested. “But now that I’ve become one, my reputation is in jeopardy.”

Frowning, the mother took refuge in anguished silence.

“Everything must change,” Hassanein sighed. “Even my father’s grave, out in the open amidst charity burial places, must change. Imagine what my colleagues would think of me if they knew where he is buried!”

She concealed her feelings beneath a smile. “I hope for these things as much as you do. But I advise you to be patient and I warn you against the sad consequences of your futile revolt. You desire to wipe out the past, change the house, build a tomb, and reform your brother. Yet it’s impossible for you to achieve these things for a long time to come. What will you do then? It was the hope of my life that you be happy with us as well as make us happy. But if you don’t acquire patience and resign yourself to reality, you’ll be miserable and will make us miserable, too.”

He fell silent, fed up with the conversation and his own troubles. His rebellious nature refused to be persuaded by her arguments; to him, she seemed unsympathetic to his hopes and feelings and he felt alone in the battle of life and death. He yearned for a cleaner, more decent life, and he would never deviate from this goal. Let him then defend his hopes and happiness with whatever power and enthusiasm he could muster.

He heard a knock on the door. Evening was spreading its wings. Surmising that it was Nefisa returning from her work, he hurried with fresh determination to open the door.