“Take these bracelets and sell them at once, for whatever you can get for them,” he said hurriedly.
Hussein’s hand failed to move as his eyes opened wide, disturbed and disapproving. “What’s this? Whose bracelets are these?” he shouted in spite of himself.
Annoyed by his brother’s disquiet, Hassan said simply, “They are Sana’a my wife bracelets!”
“By what right should I take them?”
“Your brother is giving them to you. You’ve nothing to do with their owner.”
Deeply disturbed, Hussein wondered what sort of life his brother lived. “I don’t feel comfortable about taking them. Isn’t there some other solution?”
This show of dignity made Hassan angry. “If you’re this scrupulous, just leave them. I’ve nothing else to give you,” he said dryly.
At first Hussein was skeptical. But after examining Hassan’s face and realizing the genuineness of his expression, he felt annoyed and degraded. A woman’s bracelets! And what a woman! he thought. This is both impossible and unbelievable. I wouldn’t have conceived of it, nor would I have believed this could happen to me even in a nightmare. How could I possibly respect myself afterward?! Should I refuse the bracelets? What’s to be done if I do? He doesn’t have any other money. I should believe him. I can’t lose the job either! What would I do if I lost it? I can’t refuse. Nor can I accept! I must refuse! But I cannot. He kept wavering back and forth, unable to decide. Only one thing deserves to be cursed, he thought. That’s life. Yes, life and luck, and the two parents that have brought me into this world. Not caring a damn, my father used to play on his lute strings! He started with alarm. May I be destroyed! How dare I think so! The image of his corpse is indelibly imprinted on my memory. May God’s mercy fall upon him. He was not the one to blame. We are all like chickens, scratching our food from the dirt. And Hassanein and Bahia meet in the chicken coop on the roof. How disgusting! Let me then refuse. But in order to survive we have to submit. Nobody would know anything about it. Still, I’ll remember it as long as I live, and my shame will last for the rest of my life! He is waiting for me to decide. Either I submit or perish! I’ll take them as a debt to be paid off when I have enough. No, I’m deceiving myself. No, I’m honest and I’ll pay off my debt. If I don’t refuse, I’ll never be able to claim that I’m an honest man. I’m hungry. Honest but hungry. And I’ll not refuse. Damn this life! Now I realize what drove my brother to live in this lair. Our family is lost and life is cruel. I must come to a decision before my head bursts. Like chickens…
“What do you think?” came Hassan’s voice.
Stunned, Hussein raised his eyes to him, his brother’s voice fearful in its effect. Hassan was still holding the bracelets in his hand. Lowering his eyes, Hussein shyly said, “Thank you for your generosity, which I accept willingly. I beg you to consider this a debt, which I’ll pay off when, by God’s will, I have enough.”
“Accept it as a present, if you like. And tell Mother that I borrowed the money from Mr. Ali Sabri.”
Hassan’s mention of his mother aroused his resentment and gave him acute pain. As he took the bracelets and put them in his pocket, his resentment doubled.
“Sorry to have disturbed you. I think I should be leaving so that you can get back to your nap,” Hussein said.
Stretching out his hand in farewell, Hassan smiled and pressed his brother’s hand. “May God give you safe conduct. My regards to everybody, and tell Mother that I’ll visit her shortly,” he said.
Disapproving and resentful, Hussein left the house. Climbing cautiously down the stairs with no handrail, he was so absorbed in his thoughts that he paid no attention to the putrefying odor.
FORTY-SEVEN
The members of the family were gathering in the brothers’ room, which henceforth would become Hassanein’s alone. As she cast a glance at Hussein’s face, Nefisa’s heart was pierced with pain.
“Oh, God! This will be the last night our family will be together!” she cried.
On hearing these words, their mother felt stabbed in the heart, despite the great patience life had taught her. Nevertheless, she smiled, or rather she forced a smile on her dry lips.
“Hussein is a mature man,” she said. “He can manage to live by himself with no trouble or confusion. I’m completely certain that he won’t forget us. He will always remember us as we shall always remember him. Don’t be silly, darling, this is life. Painful though it is, the members of every family are eventually bound to part happily from one another, for each has his or her own role to perform in life.”
Hussein knew his mother so well that he realized that she was hiding her sorrow under a cloak of wisdom and firmness, as she often did. So he decided to grapple firmly with his own sense of desolation. Like a child, he had wept bitterly. But he was destermined not to weep again. Imitating his mother’s smile, he murmured, “We shall meet during holidays. Perhaps I’ll be transferred to Cairo one day.”
“This is bound to happen one day,” Hassanein remarked thoughtfully.
Hassanein felt melancholy and depressed. He had never been separated from his brother, not since he was born. He did not know how to face life without him. Hussein was a brother and friend to him. Though there were many occasions for dispute between them, and they sometimes even quarreled, they were indispensable to each other. Had Bahia been less stubborn, he would never have complained of loneliness. Yet he consoled himself in parting from his brother by the thought of writing letters to him every now and then. Perhaps during holidays he could travel to Tanta to see him. Could he hope to receive a monthly sum of money from Hussein, perhaps fifty or thirty piasters, especially since the fees he received from private lessons were discontinued at the end of the school year? How he wished he had enough nerve to confide his hopes to his brother. But he persuaded himself to be patient, postponing this matter until a more favorable occasion.
Samira’s mind continued to churn. She was pleased that she had succeeded in maintaining an appearance of composure. However, this evening the agony in her heart reached its peak. She experienced a mysterious sense of remorse for the favoritism she had showed Hassanein and the sacrifice of the best part of herself for his sake. But what had things come to?! Hussein, her meek son, had accepted the sacrifice of his career and the suffering of loneliness for the sake of his family, and for Hassanein in particular. Her pain was intensified by the feeling that it was her duty to speak to Hussein, with detachment and no evidence of emotion, about a sore subject; she must disguise her actual purpose, the defense of family interests, by giving the impression that her real motive was love. Tenderly and compassionately, she looked at Hussein as she arranged his clothes in his father’s suitcase.
“You’re wise, and that gives me reassurance. Above all, I hope you will continue your gentlemanly conduct in your new surroundings and avoid evil company,” she said.
“Mother, rest entirely assured about this,” Hussein answered with a smile.
However, the reference to “evil company” evoked in his mind the image of Gandab alley, the stair without banisters, and the gold bracelets. Dispirited, his face lost its glowing smile. He bent over the suitcase to hide his sadness.
“Don’t forget your family,” his mother continued. “I know there is no need to remind you of this, but I must tell you that we shall need your help until Hassanein gets a job and Nefisa gets married.”