The Beginning and the End

SEVENTY-TWO

Intolerably miserable and preoccupied, Hassanein gave his mother a clear picture of Hassan’s life. Heavy in heart, sullen, rancorous, and hopeless, he listened to her advice and consolation. With still a few days left before he had to join his regiment, he thought of leaving for Tanta to visit Hussein. The same old urge to consult with his brother in time of distress! He hesitated, but did not carry out his plan. Instead, it was consolation, not longing for the girl, that drove him to visit Farid Effendi. Conscious of this change, Hassanein attributed it to his melancholy, although he realized it was more than casual or temporary. On the third morning after his visit to Hassan, he wondered, baffled, if he had stopped loving Bahia. He sat alone with her in the sitting room, while her mother was busy in the kitchen, and continued to wonder if he was still in love with her. She was his girl, body and soul, and sure enough, she stimulated his desire. Yet he felt inclined to break with her as part of the process of breaking with his past. Yes, he desired her, but he was torn by a perplexing conflict between desire and uncertainty whether he still loved her! How was it possible, he wondered, to desire her and stop loving her at the same time? But despite the strong physical attraction, he wished to break their engagement as much as he wished to break with the alley and his brother’s life. She was no longer his ideal girl. He came to think of his attachment to her as a symptom of a kind of lunacy of which he must be cured. As he gazed at her fine, quiet face, an incarnate torment, his heart pinched in pain. Undecided, he tried to dismiss his thoughts.

“Don’t stare at me like that!” he heard her say.

If only he could take her to his breast and press a thousand kisses on her! In the future his attitude toward her might change, but he regretted this period of protracted deprivation. “I’d like to give you a kiss. With this we could start a new life!” He smiled.

“That’s all you think about!”

“Is there anything more pleasurable?”

She lowered her eyes. “There are more important matters,” she said hesitantly.

He guessed her meaning at once. Dismissing his worries, he inquired, “What’s more important than a kiss?”

“For once in your life, would you speak to me seriously?”

“But, seriously, I want to kiss you.”

Somewhat perplexed, as if deliberately to oppose threatening danger, once she gained control she continued: “Don’t you know what Mother says?”

He guessed right, it was bound to come. “What did she say?” he asked stupidly.

Shyly, she answered with difficulty in a low voice. “She says we’ve been waiting too long, now that you’re an officer!”

Her presumptuous statement angered him in the extreme; although he realized that there was no reason for anger, at this moment his heart filled with hate for her mother.

“Does she want to hasten our marriage?”

“No,” she murmured, flushing, “but she thinks it’s about time we announced our engagement.”

“Hasn’t it already been announced?”

Embarrassed, she felt the ring finger of her right hand. “Certain formalities are still incomplete,” she said.

He got the point, and was overcome with an unaccountable resentment. The request was reasonable enough, but, like a hunted animal at the approach of danger, he developed an aversion to the girl’s family. As he studied her face, he remembered what his classmates on the bus had said about her. She’s a good-hearted girl, he thought, but she doesn’t deserve to be the wife of an officer like me. And if this marriage takes place, it would be the first of its kind.

“These things aren’t important,” he said calmly, with a smile.

“But to other people they are extremely important. Our relatives have been asking about the engagement ring for a long time.”

If only, he wondered, she could show the same enthusiasm for making love. She wants to marry me, not love me, he thought. That’s why she’s so frigid and reserved. Why would I marry her if I didn’t love her passionately?

“No need to hurry,” he said. “We’ll realize our hopes in due time.”

“But when is ‘due time’?”

“I think,” he said, knitting his brows as if in deliberation, “I will be able both to support our own home and to help my family — who need me, as you know — when I’m promoted to the rank of lieutenant.”

Downcast, dumbfounded, and dim-eyed, she bit her fingernails. While his words afforded him relief and a sense of liberty, yet her misery touched his heart. His heart beat violently as he looked at her body. Forgetting his anger and fears, he arose and sat beside her on the sofa. But she moved away from him to the farthest end, holding him back with her arms, resisting him, with a lingering, sad look in her eyes. He seized her arms and imprinted kisses on her palms. She arose and left him. “Let go of me,” she exclaimed. “Let go of me. You’ve changed.”

Out of his mind with excitement, he rose and followed her. Embracing her, his limbs quivered. She pushed him away, but he thrust his mouth violently on her lips. She leaned her head back, and he missed her mouth, his lips touching her chin. She wrested herself from his grasp, and they stood, panting, face to face.

“Don’t use force with me,” she sobbed.

As his lust turned to anger, he thought of leaving the room. He took two steps toward the door, then turned suddenly to her. Anger giving way to mad desire, he pounced upon her, determined to satiate it. Her hands resisted, but he embraced her, took her to his breast with brutal violence, and pressed a kiss on her lips. It was no use turning her face away to escape him. His mouth persistently searching for hers, he struggled against her resistance with brutal force until he crushed her to him. She almost fainted in his arms. Paying no attention, he kept pressing her to his chest until he sensed the softness of her plump body on his abdomen and thighs, and a profound sensation of satisfaction arose in him as though he were exploring the pleasures of life for the first time. She put up a feeble, token resistance as short-lived as the moments of wakefulness that precede death. But as he crushed her resistance, he became mad with desire, and yearned for further satisfaction. A sweeping, melting pleasure ran through every one of his nerves, inconceivable pleasure; then he collapsed in sudden surrender. When he came to, he found the girl in his arms, his lips on her cheek. As his arms relaxed, she retreated with a push on his chest. “I’ll never forgive you,” she said.

Her words had no effect at all; he ignored her existence and was indifferent to them. He felt triumphant and relieved. As his senses cooled, he retreated in astonishment to his former seat. Wavering, she stood motionless, then resentfully returned to her chair, scolding his deaf ears. He looked at her curiously. He wondered: Is it she? Is it I? Where are we? An intolerable sense of coolness weighed heavily upon him.

He listened to her without taking the trouble to apologize. Her mother came in; taking advantage of the latter’s presence, he sat for a while with her, then excused himself. As he left the flat he felt a strong desire to escape, and at that moment the thought of traveling to Tanta returned. He smiled, welcoming the idea with enthusiasm.