The Mirage

57

I spent a month or more in a state of unmitigated bliss. Peace took the place of suspicion and doubt, and my relationship with Rabab was restored to one of goodwill and pure affection. At the same time, I surrendered myself to Inayat in tumultuous passion and triumphant joy. She was a woman of means, and not once did we go to our beloved nest in the seamstress’s house but that she presented her with a gift of a riyal, and sometimes half a pound. As for me, my sense of dignity required that I, too, be generous toward her, albeit within my more limited means. Without realizing it, she made it possible for me to resume drinking on a regular basis, since the seamstress would keep bottles of whisky and soda in constant supply for us. In fact, she nearly got me into the habit of smoking. In addition, she had certain virtues, and what virtues they were! She was possessed of perfect femininity and vitality, as a result of which she was a source of pleasure to lovers despite her middle age and her lovable homeliness. At the same time, however, she possessed such virtues alongside an alarming degree of wantonness and audacity. For her, loving a man was everything, and for its sake she deemed anything and everything permissible. She may not have been truly the type that devotes herself unstintingly to her man. Rather, she may simply have been a woman driven by anxiety and despair. In other words, she may have been driven by an awareness of the fact that the brightness of her youth was fading, as a result of which she couldn’t bear to let a day go by without a taste of love. The most peculiar thing about my passion for her was that the things about her that enchanted me were the very things that might normally be looked upon as shortcomings — her maturity, her homeliness, and her audacity. She filled me with boundless confidence, and when I was with her, I worried about nothing. If it hadn’t been for the angst that would come over me as a result of the frightening divorce I experienced between body and spirit, I would have enjoyed life in unruffled tranquility. Yet even with such perturbation, it was a happy life.

Then one afternoon, right after I’d finished lunch, I went in to spend some time with my mother over a cup of coffee as was my custom every day. As soon as I walked into the room, I noticed her limpid eyes searching my face anxiously as though there were something on her mind. Looking intently into her face, which looked drawn and languid, I realized immediately that she wanted to say something.

I felt worried, but I said with a smile, “What is it, Mama? Tell me what’s on your mind.”

A look of hesitancy flashed in her eyes for a few moments.

Then she said, “Yesterday I heard some things that shocked me. Could you tell me more about what’s going on between Rabab and her mother?”

This was the last thing I’d expected to hear. My eyes clouded over with dark memories and my fluttering heart wondered: Has the woman gone back to her nagging? Rabab had told me nothing about her mother’s visit to her the day before, contenting herself with conveying her mother’s greetings to me.

In a calm voice — or, at least, in a voice that I made appear to be calm — I replied, “Everything’s just fine between them.”

Shaking her head skeptically, my mother said, “There may be things you’re missing. I wasn’t able to receive Madame Nazli yesterday because I hadn’t been feeling well, so when Sabah came to tell me she’d arrived, I pretended to be asleep. The visit went on for quite a long time. At one point, I slipped out of the room to go to the bathroom. On my way back, I came past the sitting room door. When I did, I was shocked to hear the woman say, ‘This is intolerable!’ Then Rabab came back at her angrily, saying, ‘Don’t meddle in my affairs!’ As for me, all I could do was come back to my room.”

My forehead burning with humiliation, I felt furious and unspeakably bitter toward my meddlesome mother-in-law.

Intruding on my thoughts, my mother asked, “Don’t you know anything about it?”

“Their disagreements are none of our business,” I said firmly.

When I returned later to our room, I found Rabab reclining on the long seat. When she saw me, she drew her legs toward the back of the seat to make room for me, and I sat down broodingly. How could she have kept such a thing from me? Was she afraid of upsetting me?

As if she hadn’t noticed my altered state of mind, she began talking about how it was Friday and suggested that we go to the cinema together.

I let her finish what she had to say. Then I asked, “How’s your mother?” to which she replied that her mother was fine.

Then I looked her straight in the eye and asked her, “Did yesterday’s visit go well?”

“What do you mean?” she asked with a disconcerted look in her eyes.

“Rabab,” I said gloomily, “Don’t hide anything from me. Has your mother started harping on that old theme again?”

Her face clouded over and she made no reply.

“What would you know about it?” she retorted sharply.

“I want to know everything!”

So I told her what my mother had told me.

After listening to me attentively, she exploded, “Your mother! Your mother! Always your mother!”

Feeling the same sting that I always did whenever I was reminded of their mutual dislike, I said, “There’s no reason to get angry. She heard what she did by chance, and she passed it on to me with good intentions as far as I can see. I beg you, don’t get angry. Just tell me: Has your mother gone back to that old subject?”

Drawing her legs out from behind me and planting them on the floor, she looked down gloomily and angrily.

“The thing I hadn’t wanted to upset you with was that she suggested that I go to a doctor to see why I haven’t gotten pregnant. I rejected her suggestion, of course, and we got into an argument!”

We carried on with the odious conversation for quite some time until she asked me not to say anything more, and to lie down and get some rest after my day at work. Complying with her wishes, I went and lay down on the bed, grieved and melancholy. It took me quite some time to doze off, and I don’t know how long I slept. However, I woke to the sound of something that caused slumber to flee from my eyes. I opened my eyes feeling disturbed, and my ears were bombarded by a ruckus coming from the living room. As I listened attentively, it soon became apparent that Rabab and my mother were exchanging the harshest of words in a noisy shouting match. Alarmed, I jumped out of bed, then rushed into the living room.

I found Rabab with sparks flying from her eyes as she screamed, “This sort of spying doesn’t become a respectable lady!”

When my mother saw me, she lowered her eyes as she said, “This impertinence is more than I can take!”

“Rabab!” I cried.

However, she avoided me and stormed back into our room in a rage. As for my mother, she turned around and proceeded to her room with heavy steps. As I came toward her in a pained silence, I saw her take hold of the doorknob, then stand there without turning it as though she’d changed her mind about going in. Then she placed her hand on her forehead and seemed to gradually slump over. I rushed over to her, and no sooner had I touched her than she fell into my arms. Terrified, I called to her, but she didn’t respond, her head and arms drooping lifelessly. I summoned Sabah with a shout and she came running, then together we carried her to the bed and lay her down. I brought a bottle of cologne and sprinkled some of it on her face and neck, then used it to massage her limbs. Hysterical by now, I began calling to her over and over in a hoarse, trembling voice. She remained unconscious for several minutes that dragged by like hours. Then she opened her eyelids to reveal lusterless eyes.

“Mama!” I cried with a gulp.

She focused her gaze on me, then pointed to her heart without uttering a word. I left the flat and took off for the grocery on the first floor of our building, where I called her doctor and asked him to come. Then I went back up to the flat and sat beside her feeling terrified and grieved. I didn’t take my eyes off her for a moment, and eventually her lackluster gaze drew out the tears that had been trapped inside me. I felt like the most miserable person on earth, and my soul was filled with bitterness and despair.

Then the doctor came and examined her. He said she’d had a heart attack and would require extended bed rest and intensive care, and as he normally did, he prescribed some medicine.

I told him she’d fainted after an argument with the servant.

In reply he said, “The argument was a secondary cause, but the underlying condition has been there for a long time.”

That night was a dismal one. Rabab, feeling responsible for what had happened, disappeared into our room and cried her heart out. As for me, all I could do was try to console her.

Patting her on the shoulder, I said, “You’ve cried enough now. This was God’s will, and may He cause everything to work out for the best.”