The Beginning and the End

SEVENTY-EIGHT

“We’ve come to congratulate you on the new flat,” Bahia’s mother said. “May God make it a happy home for you!”

Bahia and her mother sat on the new sofa. It was afternoon. All the members of the Kamel family were present except Nefisa, who had left an hour before the two visitors arrived.

They had high praise for the new flat and the luxurious quarter, but Bahia’s mother complained of the loneliness her family suffered after the Kamels’ departure. She apologized for the absence of her husband, Farid Effendi, who was busy at the Ministry in the afternoons, so many of his colleagues being on vacation. They talked about familiar affairs, and Hassanein as usual took part in their conversation. But he was anxious and painfully embarrassed, and his tension increased as Bahia threw furtive, sad, and silently expressive glances at him. When Bahia’s mother suddenly expressed her wish to be alone with Hassanein’s mother, his uneasiness was accentuated. The two mothers left the sitting room; embarrassed in the presence of the engaged couple, Hussein made a pretext to leave. Hassanein realized that the decisive hour in his life was at hand; he would either perish or remain safe. Bahia and Hassanein exchanged prolonged glances, she disapproving and inquisitive, he with a faint, meaningless smile.

“Why did you stop visiting us?” she asked disapprovingly.

“You know, for reasons that prevent me from appearing in our old quarter,” he said, taken aback.

“Why didn’t you meet me on the roof after I left the paper in your hand?” she asked again.

“My brother and I had an important appointment.”

“And what about your sudden departure to Tanta without telling me?” she asked him sadly.

“I had to get away at once,” he said, avoiding her eyes.

“You don’t even try to make up reasonable excuses,” she exclaimed in anger.

As delicate and painful as the situation was, Hassanein realized that any wavering on his part would be fatal. As far as his liberty and career were concerned, he would make no concessions. Pretending sadness, he murmured, “My situation is too complicated for you to understand.”

“That you’ve changed is the only thing I can understand. You’ve become a different person. I’m neither foolish nor stupid. You don’t want to see me.”

“May God forgive you.”

Although she had originally been less communicative, her awareness of their limited time together loosened her tongue.

“Don’t be so equivocal,” she said, obviously pained. “I want to understand everything. What’s wrong with you? Why have you changed so much? Tell me!”

In his concern for his own salvation and escape, he failed to sense the pain and despair in her words. “I didn’t change, but my situation did,” he said.

“Yes, your situation did change, but for the better.”

“Only on the surface. Actually, I’m beginning to realize that my responsibilities are heavy indeed.”

“Weren’t you aware of them before?” she asked, her anger seeping into her voice. “All your responsibilities put together won’t stop you from doing whatever you want if you really want it.”

“I want but I can’t.”

Looking closely at him, her face pale, she murmured, “No. You can but you don’t want.”

How tormented he was, for he knew he had no answer. He grew more recalcitrant. “You’re mistaken,” he murmured.

Seeking to penetrate his innermost thoughts, she looked him up and down in fear and desperation. “No,” she replied, “I’m not mistaken. If you really wanted it, you would stop saying that you couldn’t. These are only pretexts.” She sighed in spite of herself. “You’re no longer in love with me and you want to get rid of me. Is there any other reason?”

Although he inwardly admitted this was the truth, yet it appalled and pained him to hear her say it.

“You’re most unjust to me,” he said, raising his eyebrows in contradiction.

Far from calming her, this made her even more desperate. Pressed for time, in her increasing anxiety she cast off her characteristic shyness. “It’s you who are unjust,” she exclaimed. “You’re thinking of getting rid of me after three years of engagement!”

He avoided her eyes. Pained and embarrassed, he was still determined not to retreat. “My situation,” he said, “is too difficult for you to understand. I’ve got to struggle on, come what may.”

Suddenly her tone became soft. Flushing, she said to him beseechingly, “If this is the only reason, I’m ready to share your struggle.”

This new approach made him ill at ease. “The struggle will be long, hard to endure.”

Continuing in the same tone, she said, “Never mind. But I beg you to declare our engagement in the usual way.”

This sudden drift in the conversation after it had almost come to an end caught him unawares; he was overcome by fear, irritation, and worry. “No!” he exclaimed involuntarily.

Stunned, she stared at him. She lowered her eyes desperately, her face flushed. She opened and closed her lips again and again as if she wanted to speak but could not.

“Don’t you see?” she murmured. “I was right when I said you wanted to get rid of me.”

Overtaken by a kind of confusion he had never experienced before, he fell into deep silence. Then, as if apologetically, he said, “I’m very, very sorry. Perhaps someday you will be able to forgive me.”

“That’s enough,” she said, fatigued and defeated. “I don’t want to hear another word.”

A deep silence fell on the room as if infesting it with an incurable, suffocating disease. Despite his anguish and embarrassment, the young man found solace in this silence, confident that eventually, no matter how long it took, his pain was bound to end. And when it did, he would feel free. He cast a secretive glance at her. What, he wondered, was passing through her mind? Did she still want him? Or did she hate him? Or did she want to avenge herself upon him? What were their mothers speaking about, and how would their long conversation end?

Only I, he thought, and nobody else, can determine my destiny. He heard the voices of the two women approaching. In sudden anxiety, his heart beat fast, accelerating as they returned contentedly to their places. There was a knock on the door. Nefisa entered and Hussein returned to the room; this diversion restored part of his calm. Despite Bahia’s obviously sullen mood, the conversation took the usual course until the visit ended.