The Beginning and the End (33 page)

The search for a new flat consumed considerable time, but finally they were able to find a reasonably priced one in a charming location on Al Zagazig Street in Heliopolis. Having agreed to bring their furniture surreptitiously during the evening, so as to conceal it from curious eyes, they moved in on the appointed day. Hassanein remained in the new flat with the heaps of furniture, while Hussein returned to the alley to accompany his mother and sister to their new home. With hope and no regrets, they bade farewell in the dark to their old quarter. Reaching the new quarter, they stood in surprised admiration for its enormous size, its quiet, the fine, dry air, and the sight of blocks of flats and villas on both sides. Despite sad, lingering memories, Nefisa, in this new atmosphere, could not help saying with a smile, “We're now part of the upper class.”

The flat was located in a two-story house surrounded by a small garden. They climbed the seven steps to find Hassanein waiting for them, the kerosene lamp already aglow. Assisted by the two brothers, Samira and Nefisa arranged their few pieces of furniture in the three small rooms in less than an hour, including a brief break. The shabby chairs, sofas, and beds seemed out of place in these elegant rooms. It was to be expected that Hassanein would comment resentfully about this discrepancy, but the sight of the sitting room afforded him a measure of comfort. Entering from outside, a visitor could be shown into it without having to cross the interior hall. They discussed their new surroundings at length, the buildings, the streets, and what they imagined their neighbors must be like. Hassanein discussed the necessities of their new life as he saw them.

“We must have two things at once: electricity and a girl servant.
Without these, we've no business staying here for even a day.”

Since it was understood that it was he who would supply these requirements, no one objected. But as he considered his surroundings from a new angle, Hassanein wondered whether his mother and sister would fit in with them. Mentally, he could hear women's insulting comments after visiting their flat, and his boiling blood rushed to his brain.

“We mustn't,” he warned his mother, “mix with anyone in this new quarter. We shall neither visit nor be visited.”

“I have no desire to mix with anyone,” his mother said indifferently.

“We've got no friends here that we'd be sorry to avoid,” Nefisa said.

“It'll be better, too, if you don't see your old female friends,” the young man said with concern.

The girl was disturbed. It was true that she wanted to sever her contacts with the outside world, but impelled by a repulsive urge to seek outside contacts, inevitably she failed to obey her wishes. “Am I doomed,” she asked fearfully, “to be a prisoner for the rest of my life?”

Taking his sister's side, Hussein intervened. “Brother,” he urged, “don't ask too much!”

“I don't want anyone from our quarter to visit us,” Hassanein answered sharply.

“Except for Farid Effendi and his family, no one will take the trouble.”

Repressing his discontent, Hassanein kept silent. He remembered yesterday's farewell visit from Farid Effendi's family and how they got the new address. If only right now, he thought, at this moment in the twinkling of an eye, the entire past would cease to exist! Had the girl confided his recent lack of interest to her parents? he wondered. Could he arrange to slip easily out of this relationship or might he encounter unforeseen troubles? He would fight it out at whatever cost. His liberty and
prestige were more important than the problems which faced him. If he could manage to recover from the past, a bright life full of peace and security would be assured.

Hassanein took his brother aside to straighten out their budget, with its extra expenses for transport, the purchase of the furniture for their sitting room, and the further anticipated expenses of the servant and electricity. Nefisa arose to look out of the windows at her new surroundings. In her loneliness, Samira summoned up memories of the recent events, ending with their arrival in this new quarter. Her thoughts revolved around only one subject: her son Hassan. Where was he now, she wondered, and what was he doing? Whenever she was alone, her memory of him always returned, stirring long-buried grief and remorse.

Thus they spent their first night in Heliopolis.

“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.

Hassanein looked anxiously and inquiringly at his mother. She understood that he wanted to know about her conversation with Bahia's mother. Her glance was cool.

“Bahia's mother spoke to me,” she said, “about the need for an official declaration of the engagement, and I ultimately approved.”

Frowning angrily, the young man struck the palm of one hand against the other. “Mother, you were too hasty!”

Seeing that his words astonished his mother, he added, “Of course, I don't blame you. But I've broken off the engagement.”

All eyes stared incredulously at him.

“What are you saying?” his mother inquired.

Stressing each word as it came out of his mouth, he answered, “Today, right now, I've broken off the engagement. When they left us, Bahia knew that everything between us was over.”

“Brother, what is this you're saying?” Hussein worriedly exclaimed. “How did it happen?”

“I'm amazed at your words,” his mother said. “I understand nothing. Did any misunderstanding flare up between you and Bahia? When? How?”

Nefisa stopped in the middle of taking off her shoes. “Speak, Hassanein,” she said. “This news is most surprising, to say the least.”

“Yes, and it wasn't just a short time ago that I decided to break off the engagement,” the young man said grimly. “But I didn't want to tell anybody about it. Today, alone with her in this room, I found it imperative to tell her. So everything is over now. Please, all of you, don't ask me about what we said. This concerns nobody but us.”

“This must have been a cruel shock to the poor girl,” Hussein said. “I hope you have good reasons to justify this dreadful decision.”

“What a scandal!” the worried mother declared. “I reached an agreement with the girl's mother at the very moment you annulled it. What will the woman think of me? Will she suspect that I knew your intentions and that I was deceiving her all along? What did you do, my son? What is the reason for all this? And what's wrong with the girl?”

Annoyed at the conversation, Nefisa cried sharply, “Let's hear what the young man concerned has to say.”

“Bahia is a faultless girl,” Hassanein said to his mother. “But I realized quite clearly that she couldn't be the ideal wife for me.”

“You've been engaged for three years,” his mother said. “How can you possibly desert her without good reason?”

Shaking his head, Hussein supported his mother. “That's right,” he said. “Breaking off an engagement is a dreadful thing. It shouldn't happen without good reason!”

“What made you think she's not the ideal wife for you?” Nefisa asked.

“Bahia just isn't fit to be my wife,” Hassanein said with annoyance. “Sure, I chose her myself. But at that time I didn't know she wasn't for me.”

“Bahia is a polite, beautiful girl,” the worried mother replied. “Besides, we can never forget her father's help to us.”

“Your judgment surprises me,” Hussein said disapprovingly. “What is your idea of a good wife?”

“I want a wife from a higher class, cultured and reasonably wealthy,” Hassanein said after a pause.

“So these are your reasons for breaking your promises?” Hussein inquired in the same tone.

“We're poor and Bahia is almost as poor as we are,” Hassanein sighed. “If I should die as my father did, before my time,
I'm afraid I'd leave my sons, as my father left us, to the same cruel poverty.”

“You're right,” Nefisa said with enthusiasm.

Hussein was angered by his sister's enthusiasm. “Have you considered the serious consequences of the step you're taking?” he demanded.

“I'm extremely sorry about this,” Hassanein replied. “But I don't approve of wasting my life.”

“All the same, you approve of wasting hers?”

“Her life won't be wasted. She's still in the prime of her youth, and she's got a brilliant future ahead of her.”

“Would you allow me,” Hussein said angrily, “to describe your behavior for what it really is?”

Hassanein looked at him sullenly.

Hussein shook his head, disturbed. “I wonder,” he said, “how you can condemn Hassan's behavior when there's no justification for yours?”

The young man turned pale. “No doubt,” he answered sharply, “my behavior is not without its cruelty. But it will all end well for both parties. Anyhow, this is far better than an unsuccessful marriage.”

Hussein turned his face away in desperation.

Striking the palm of one hand against the other, their mother murmured, “What a terrible offense to this most good-hearted family! Oh, God! How can I hide my shame?”

Her words were sincere, but actually she felt a deep inner relief. She was afraid that Hassanein's precipitous marriage would reduce the family to its former state of worry and insecurity. Wondering about Nefisa's future, she invariably became fearful and sad. But despite her sense of inner relief, she thought of Farid Effendi's family with pain and shame.

Unable to conceal her real feelings, Nefisa said, “Don't worry about Bahia. She'll soon find a husband.”

“The same generally applies to every girl,” Hussein said. “But it's no defense for our mistakes.”

“It doesn't apply to every girl,” Nefisa said, “and the proof is that it doesn't apply to me, your sister.”

Her irony relieved the pervading tension. Hassanein seized the opportunity to exclaim enthusiastically, “Isn't it better to choose a special kind of wife, such as Ahmad Bey Yousri's daughter, for example?”

“God has the power to grant the wishes of His creatures,” Nefisa said gaily. “Who knows? Perhaps one day you'll be living in a respectable villa and we'll continue to have your help and kindness.”

Hussein paid no attention to the remarks of his brother and sister. Their mother said, as if to herself, “This evening Farid Effendi will know everything. What will he say about us? I wish I could muster up enough courage to visit them and apologize to them!”

Pondering at length, Hussein murmured calmly but firmly, “I've got that kind of courage.”

All were interested.

“Would you really go?” Nefisa asked him. “And what would you say to them?”

“God will inspire me on the spur of the moment with something suitable to say,” the young man answered with a frown. “Oh, God! Surely there's some impurity in our blood.”

He put on his clothes and left the flat.