The Mirage (41 page)

A
s we were waiting for the tram together on the fourth day, Rabab said to me, “I’ll be late coming home today, since I’m going to visit a colleague of mine who’s been absent from the school for the past two days.”

I shot her a suspicious look which, if she’d seen it, would have led to no good. Then I quickly looked down, holding my feelings in check.

“Where does she live?” I asked nonchalantly.

“In Heliopolis.”

“And when will you be back?”

“The time the visit takes plus the time I need to get back.… I’ll be back by seven at the latest.”

So, she’d begun trying to avoid my oppressive company! I stole a furtive glance at her, and she looked dazzling to me. But the next moment I was gripped by a sudden impulse to fall on her with an ax and split her in two. When the tram arrived and we got on, I was in a bad way indeed. I got off the tram at the ministry stop and hailed a taxi,
which delivered me posthaste to the Nubians’ coffee shop. I greeted the closed window with a long look, then returned to my thoughts. That visit to Heliopolis. I wasn’t going to let her go alone. I was determined to follow her somehow, but would my effort succeed? Supposing I trailed her to Heliopolis, then saw her going into a house or a building. How could I possibly know what lay within its four walls? She might really be visiting a colleague of hers, or she might be in a lover’s arms. Trembling violently, I bit down till I could hear my teeth grating against each other. However, I was determined not to go back on my resolve. I
would
follow her, and perhaps I’d see the two of them together in the street. In fact, I might find it easier than I’d imagined to catch her in the act. This is so horrible! I thought. At the same time, though, it was the most likely thing to bring me relief. After all, if catastrophe was bound to strike, it would be more merciful for it to happen quickly. Overwhelmed by anxiety and apprehension, I was certain I wouldn’t be able to endure the day. I looked over at the closed window and fixed my gaze on it in something like a cry for help. I felt as though I were being crushed by a violent force, and I longed for an outlet for some of the fierce emotions that raged deep inside me. I ached to get things off my chest, even if the process brought guilt and ignominy in its wake. At ten o’clock the window opened and the homely face greeted me with a bright smile. My attention shifted to her, delivering me from myself. I fixed my gaze on her with a boldness I’d never known myself to have. My features relaxed in spite of myself, and I reciprocated her greeting. She disappeared from the window, and my eyes preceded her to the balcony. However, the wait lasted longer than usual. Then she appeared in the window
again, and what should I find but that she’d put on a coat and gotten ready to go out. A thought flashed through my mind like lightning: Was she going to invite me to go somewhere with her? A wave of pleasure, indecision, and fear came over me. How badly I needed the invitation! But did I dare leave Rabab on this crucial day? It was a day worth an entire lifetime! My very fate was bound to Heliopolis. Still, how was I going to resist the woman’s invitation if it came? She finished making herself up, then stood there looking at me, beaming and relaxed. Then she looked at something in front of her. My eyes followed her, and what should I find but that her fingers were folding up a small piece of paper, then refolding it from both ends. She looked up and down the street, then threw it, and it landed near my feet. I picked it up hurriedly and unfolded it. Redolent with an intoxicating perfume, it contained these words: “Wait for me at seven sharp this evening at the bridge at the end of the tram line.” I was relieved to find that she’d unwittingly given me some lead time. But would I be able to keep the appointment if I agreed to it? Wasn’t there something in Heliopolis that would keep me from it? I didn’t have time to think, as she was peering at me questioningly and waiting for my response. Hence, I had no choice but to nod my head in agreement. Smilingly at me sweetly, she bade me adieu with a nod of her head, then closed the window. I understood that she must be going out on a visit or some such thing. Thus it was that, propelled forward by that weakness in me that doesn’t know how to say no, I’d committed myself to the proposed rendezvous even though I didn’t know where I’d be at the agreed upon time. And thus it was, also, that I’d fallen into the very transgression I was accusing my wife of! Was I
likely to be glad that I’d taken this daring step, or would I live to regret it? Would the day end with love, or in tragedy? How I loathed life at that moment! I merged with a stream of consciousness that was a kaleidoscope of conflicting emotions: from joy to fear, from hope to despair, and from eagerness to apathy. At last, though, it was topped off with a wave of longing for adventure as a way to escape from the burden of worry that had brought me to my knees and nearly run me into the ground. After reading the paper countless times, I folded it up and slipped it in my pocket.

I waited alone until the kindergarten let out and I spotted Rabab approaching from a distance. This was the moment I’d been waiting for for the last four days—the most miserable days of my life. I would follow her, of that there was no doubt, and leave the rendezvous to circumstances alone. I expected her to turn left in the direction of the tram stop that leads to Heliopolis. However, she veered right instead, in the direction of the tram stop where she waited every day. I realized immediately that she’d made up the story about the sick colleague so as to create an excuse for her absence, and my chest went into such turmoil I could hardly breathe. Had the time come for me to be rid of this torment? As she stood there on the sidewalk, I shot her a fiery look, marveling at the phony decorum that served as a veneer for such unspeakable wickedness and depravity! Then came the time for the chase, which I hoped would bear fruit this time. She got on the tram and I hailed a taxi. As I rode along, I kept my eyes glued to the car she was in. Where would she get off? Where would she commit her dastardly deed? It was nearly unbearable for me to imagine her in such questionable situations. If the actual reality proved my suspicions correct, revealing to
me its ugly, grotesque face, nothing would satisfy my thirst for revenge but to crush her skull with the stones of this huge city! What would have caused her to fall into such iniquity, she who was too chaste for legitimate marital relations? Or did she only want such things by crooked means? I was torn by indecision and tormented by bitterness and rage. At the same time, though, I held out the hope of being delivered from this torment once and for all, and from this bitter life so filled with disappointment and doubt. In just a few minutes everything would be over, and there would be no more reason for me to ask myself whether she was innocent or guilty. There would be no more obsessive thoughts driving me to endure the horrors of surveillance and espionage. The house would be empty of all but the old, familiar faces and the humble, quiet life I’d once known. It was true, of course, that I wished I could crush the head that had crushed my heart. However, I valued my life too much to let it be lost for the sake of an iniquitous woman. My rage was intense and formidable, but my love for safety was stronger and deeper. Wasn’t it strange that my thoughts should be revolving around fear and safety even at that terrifying moment? We approached Ataba, and again I wondered where she would get off. I saw her go to the stop on the square as she did every day. I got out of the taxi for fear of losing her in the crowded square. Then I saw her cross the square and head for the other stop where she usually waited. I circled the square and stopped at the section wall. It galled me to see her standing there in her usual decorous fashion, calm and collected, as though I weren’t burning up over her. Having ruled out the possibility of her meeting someone in such a crowd, I began looking out for the tram she was about to
catch. Trams came and went in succession with their various numbers until at last the Roda tram arrived, whereupon she rushed up to it and took her place in the ladies’ compartment. I was stupefied. Was it going to happen in our very own neighborhood? I rushed over to another taxi and we followed the tram. My heart began pounding more and more wildly with every stop we passed. Then we came onto Qasr al-Aini Street. We passed one stop, then a second, then a third, then a fourth until we reached the stop that led to our house. To my dismay, I saw her get off the tram. Looking out the back window of the taxi, I saw her cross the street and walk into our building. I rested my head on the back of the seat and closed my eyes, exhausted and bewildered. What was behind all this? Had I lost my mind? Would there be no end to this torture? In any case, I went home myself, and when I arrived, she’d just finished getting undressed and putting on her robe.

“I thought you’d gone to visit your colleague!” I said to her in astonishment.

She broke into a smile and said, “She wasn’t that sick after all, and she came back to work today before anyone could go to the trouble of visiting her.”

And I wondered: Will all my suspicions lead to nothing but a handful of wind? I only asked God for one thing, namely, to be able to live with her in peace and assurance.

As I was changing my clothes she said to me, “My aunt called and invited me to visit her this evening, and she asked me to invite you on her behalf.”

“God willing,” I replied unthinkingly.

The minute I opened my mouth I realized I’d spoken hastily, since I remembered the appointment at the Abbasiya Bridge. But did I really want to go? I was far from the
window and the balcony and their influence now, so was I still thinking about this woman seriously? What sort of demon was beguiling me? My heart belonged to my beloved and to no one else. So why was the strange woman’s siren song so overwhelming and irresistible? The longer I thought about it, the more I surrendered to the fiendish summons until the only thing left to prevent me from going was the promise I’d made to myself to accompany my wife that evening. But, would she have invited me to visit her aunt with her if she harbored any ill intentions? I thought about it again with considerable effort, since there’s nothing more taxing for me than to have to choose between two different things.

However, after considerable hesitation, I said, “I’m sorry, I just remembered—I have an important engagement!”

In what seemed like genuine distress, she said, “Do you mean you won’t be able to go with me?”

Feeling as though my foot were slipping into a bottomless pit, I said, “Please convey my regrets to your aunt.”

I
reached the Abbasiya Bridge a few minutes before the scheduled time. The weather was pleasant and it was quite dark, so I waited under a gas lamp. I’d come in a state of angst and tension that reminded me of the state I’d been in on the day the carriage took me to the pub on Alfi Bey Street for the first time. And all this for the sake of a woman with neither beauty nor grace. In fact, I would have been embarrassed to be seen with her in public. When it was nearly time for her to arrive, I was ridden by the same fear that I’d felt over and over during the wait that had begun that afternoon. What if the tragedy repeated itself? There was still time to flee. But I didn’t budge. This woman was my only chance to reclaim my lost confidence. Besides, I was possessed by a spirit of adventure the likes of which I’d never seen in myself. “Give it a try!” it said to me. “You won’t lose anything. Or, at least, you won’t lose anything new.” I was roused from my thoughts by a medium-sized car that pulled up in front of me next to the
sidewalk. The car window opened and through it I saw the face of the strange woman, who was seated behind the steering wheel. She smiled at me and invited me to go around and get in on the other side. Muddled, I did as she said, and in less than a second, I was sitting next to her. I pulled the door closed and remained sitting right up against it, so self-conscious that I was hardly aware of what was around me. I could feel her eyes on my left cheek, but I kept looking straight ahead until she burst out laughing.

Then, in a voice that sounded delicate by comparison with the coarseness of her face and body, she said provocatively, “There’s no need to be shy anymore.”

She took off, handling the car with deftness and ease, and said, “Let’s go to Pyramids Road.”

She was driving so fast I was petrified, and whenever she was forced to slow down by other cars or a traffic light, I breathed a sigh of relief. Yet strangely, she stopped speeding like a maniac when she’d left the busy streets behind. After catching my breath, I looked furtively over at her and got a close-up view of one side of her homely face and her compact bosom. At the same time, I recalled an image of her plump bronze legs. Then I remembered that she was just an inch away from my leg, and my body went into an uproar. I was amazed to find her calm and serene as though she were accompanying her husband or her brother, not a strange man about to die of awkwardness and self-consciousness.

Her eyes still on the road, she asked me, “What shall I call you?”

“Kamil Ru’ba,” I replied briefly.

I contented myself with this rather than adding the title “bey,” which often drew a laugh.

“Nice name,” she murmured.

I felt as though I ought to ask her for her name, too. I’d chosen a suitable phrase to use and was gathering my courage to utter it when she said simply, “You can call me Inayat.”

“Nice name,” I muttered shyly, though all she heard was a whisper.

Then suddenly she turned toward me and said with a smile, “Strange that you’re so shy! Don’t you know that shyness is out of style? Even virgins have given it up without regret. So why are you holding on to it?”

I laughed nervously and made no reply.

“But enough of this,” she went on. “Medicine is only effective when it’s given at the right time. Now tell me, for heaven’s sake, what led you to mix with the Nubians in that filthy coffee shop?”

Wondering what to say, I thought for a while until I hit on a fib that would get me out of my fix.

I said, “One day I was coming back from a long trip, and it was the only place I could find to rest.”