The Beginning and the End

SEVENTY-SIX

Hassanein turned to Hussein. “Where do you think he escaped to?” he asked with ferocity.

Sufficient time had passed to restore Hussein to something like his normal condition. But he was disturbed by the harshness of his brother’s tone. “How could I possibly know?” he replied reproachfully. “Don’t forget that after all he’s our brother.”

“Even after all that’s happened.”

“Yes, even after all that’s happened.”

These words were uttered from his very depths, as consolation to his mutely suffering heart, which he knew was badly in need of consolation. But Hassanein, bursting out in anger, shouted at him, “We’re as good as lost!”

“Now the whole quarter is talking about our scandal.”

“We can leave the whole quarter,” Hussein said calmly.

Hassanein stared at him, a gleam of hope appearing in his eyes as he sat there gloomy and perplexed. Hussein’s suggestion struck a chord in his heart.

“What did you say?” he responded at once.

“Why not? Cairo is vast and boundless, and in less than a week our shame will be forgotten.”

Somewhat relieved, Hassanein sighed. “We’ll never wipe out the past,” he said.

“Let’s think of the future.”

“But the past will pursue the future forever.”

“Let’s think seriously of moving to another place,” Hussein said. “Let’s get it over with before the end of my vacation.”

“We should seriously think about it,” Samira said hopefully.

Baffled, Hassanein looked from the one to the other. The police might or might not arrest his brother, but in either case, Hassan would pursue and threaten them. Their lives would be in danger as long as he remained alive.

“Where do you suggest we go?” he queried, dispirited.

“Away from here…to Shubra Street.” There was hope in their mother’s voice.

He made a gesture expressing fright and dissatisfaction. “Farther away than that,” he said. “We’ll go to Heliopolis.”

“As you like.” Hussein was rather relieved.

For a moment, Hassanein appeared to waver. He said with a sigh, “But we’re badly in need of new furniture!”

“Don’t complicate matters,” Samira said, annoyed. “How important is furniture if nobody else sees it?”

“I can’t hide our home from my friends forever!”

“That’s another question,” Hussein said. “You can buy a sofa, two big chairs, and an Assiut carpet to serve as sitting-room furniture. We can go out today, if you like, and look for a new flat.”

The tension relaxed slightly, but they all surrendered in silence to the melancholy that engulfed the place. There was a knock on the door: Farid Effendi, accompanied by his family, paying an unexpected visit at the most inopportune time. How was it, Hussein wondered, that a few hours ago he had dreamt of Bahia’s visit, while now he received her with an uninterested heart. For no apparent reason, Hassanein was filled with anger. If Farid Effendi had not seen him when Nefisa showed the way to the sitting room, he would have taken to his heels. They all assembled in the sitting room. Farid Effendi’s family warmly welcomed Hussein back to Cairo, and the conversation rambled from past to present. Apparently, the visitors were ignorant of the arrival of the police and the search; but perhaps they deliberately did not mention it. Their apparent disregard for the matter failed to diminish Hassanein’s anger; rather, it intensified his inner revolt and deeply injured his pride. As his eyes occasionally met Bahia’s she seemed sorrowful and perplexed, wearing the same worrisome look she had borne ever since his sudden departure to Tanta. Let her feel the way she did. He had grown sick of it all. Now, in his state of fuming anger and irritation, he would face up to his innermost thoughts with candor and courage. This woman would never become his mother-in-law, nor this man his father-in-law, nor this girl his wife! All of them painfully reminded him of Nasr Allah alley. Like all the other neighbors, Farid Effendi’s family knew that the police had come. But they wanted to give the impression of being too magnanimous to refer to it. Perhaps this was another act of charity added to their previous ones. Damn it all! How sick he had grown of their favors, past and present! He looked forward to new people who had done him no favors that would strain his relations with them, new people who were in no way connected with his sordid past. Look as sad and confused as you wish, he thought. But I’ll never be your husband! Never! Everything must change. What was so attractive about her body? Was it her soft flesh? The markets were full of soft flesh. How hideous this atmosphere is! If I stay here any longer, I’ll come to hate my family itself.

The visit was protracted and he had to endure it patiently until the visitors left, a short while before sunset. As she shook hands with him, the girl slipped a folded paper into his hand. Once he was alone, he unfolded it. “Meet me on the roof,” it said, the first message she had ever sent him. Carefully examining her handwriting, he was surprised to find that it was like a child’s, but at once he remembered that she had only a primary school education! Brief as the message was, it sounded profoundly like a cry for help. Undoubtedly, before their visit she had secretly written the message in her flat, all of which suggested a foreboding in her heart that he would continue his flight from her, already begun with his journey to Tanta. His heart ached with pain. He was disturbed, discontented with everything around him. But why discontented? Wasn’t it better to acquaint her with the changes that had come over him? Could he possibly imagine that she hadn’t begun to suspect him after his sudden departure? Come what may, he would never yield to the pressure of circumstances, even if it involved his self-destruction. Moreover, he would never sacrifice his career and happiness for the sake of an old, infantile passion or promise. He could stand loneliness no longer and went to his room. “Let’s get out,” he suggested to his brother.

Hussein agreed and they left the room. But now Hassanein began to regret his proposal; he wished Hussein hadn’t responded so readily, for he wanted to be alone with his thoughts. Although he could still change his mind, he continued to walk along in silence with his brother. At the thought that Bahia might now be waiting for him in front of the chicken coop, his heart beat violently. How curious that he should keep her waiting hopelessly at the very spot that had witnessed his plaintive passion and confession of love! With firm determination, he tried to dismiss the picture from his mind. The voice of his brother reached him, saying, “We’ll waste no time. Before the end of this month, we’ll move to a new house.”