I’m to blame, he thought. I’m paying the price of my folly. What devil is singling me out for his temptation? This is the second time for me. Failure always chooses me. No escape.
Hassan Effendi’s servant came to invite his mother to dinner, and Hussein told him she had left for Cairo. Later, when the servant returned to invite him as usual to spend the evening in Hassan Effendi’s house, he accepted at once.
The balcony window being tightly closed because it was winter, the two men sat around the backgammon table inside the room.
“Why did your mother return so quickly?” Hassan Effendi asked.
“Our home can’t spare her for more than a day,” Hussein answered, smiling.
“She arrived on Thursday and departed on Friday. It’s a journey that’s not worth the trouble of traveling by train.”
“But this journey accomplished what she wanted. She reassured herself about me, and she paid a visit to al-Sayed’s tomb and invoked his blessings!”
The man pointed toward the interior of the flat. “They’ve told me she is a very good-natured lady,” he said. “Your good-naturedness outweighs hers.” His bleary eyes blinking, the man added, “We hoped she would visit us before she left!”
“She was in such a hurry,” Hussein said. “I tried to persuade her to postpone her departure till the afternoon. But she excused herself, saying that her family needed her.”
“We had prepared a good dinner for her, for which I myself had selected three fat chickens,” the man said with regret.
Confused, Hussein smiled. “I hope you enjoyed eating them,” he muttered.
The man laughed, and opened the backgammon table. But instead of arranging the counters to start the game, he inquired with interest, “Didn’t you tell her of our agreement?”
Hussein felt embarrassed. “No,” he said.
“Why not?”
“How is it possible for me to broach this subject with her while she considers me responsible for the family?”
The man seized the die in his hand, rattled and cast it. Then he added, “You’re too apprehensive. Your mother would have been happy to hear this piece of news.”
“It would make her happy only if it came at the right time.”
The man laughed aloud. “I’ve my own special philosophy, which is to throw oneself fearlessly into the surge of life. Have you ever heard of anyone starving in Egypt?” he said slowly.
“That’s because our people are accustomed to hunger!”
Laughing, Hassan Effendi continued. “All people survive. In the twinkling of an eye, people change. Children grow up, the pupils become employees, and the celibate get to be married men. The only losers are those who are full of fear as you are. This is life.”
Full of fear? Annoyed at the words, he revolted inwardly against them. This was not fear, but an adequate awareness of the situation. Would he be courageous if he let this woman down, left her in the lurch?! This was not fear. Only foolish men misunderstood him. Disappointed in his hopes, he found no one who would show him mercy or understand him. As his thoughts reached this stage, he suddenly detected in them a strange flavor. Though people might misunderstand him, the feeling that he was in the right delighted him. Moreover, his delight resulted from a sense of being always misunderstood although always in the right. It was a mysterious delight similar to that which people experience when they resign themselves to the harsh verdict of fate.
“Hassan Effendi,” he said with a smile, “since your family was a large one, it’s impossible for you to understand the troubles of a family like ours.”
The man hid an arrogant smile under a façade of pretended grimness. “Deal with your problems as you like,” he said. “But don’t forget yourself. God said, ‘Don’t forget your share of this world.’ Things are destined to ripen. In another few months, your brother will obtain the baccalaureate, which will change the situation. Throw the die and see who will begin the game.”
FIFTY-SIX
Two weeks later he received a letter from Hassanein telling him that he had paid the examination fees and was constantly studying, determined to succeed. Confident of his brother’s intelligence and ability, Hussein had no doubt he would pass. Though it was not in his nature to yield to the enchantment of dreams, he tended these days to entertain them. However, although he did not believe in these fantasies, Hussein imagined in his reverie that once his brother had obtained his certificate, he would get a job to relieve Hussein’s burden. Thus he could visualize himself embarking on a new, happy life with an easy conscience. He did not hope for more than a secure married life. His lonely days in his barren flat taught him the value of having a family, for which he was as eager as a homeless person for a shelter to protect him from the pouring rain. He could not bear to frequent restaurants to take his meals. He seemed afraid to remain alone in his room even for a short time. He was at once fatigued and fed up with his bachelor’s life, which required continuous attention to his flat, furniture, and clothes. And this itself dwindled into insignificance in comparison with the hunger and yearning in his heart. He was not in love with this particular girl so much as he was with the femaleness and conjugal life she represented. As the tangible ideal of his dreams, his heart yearned for her, becoming the more attached to her since he saw very little of her except on certain rare, happy occasions. At first Hussein thought that they were hiding her from him. But later it became clear to him that Hassan Effendi was a genuinely conservative man, tolerant up to a point but not beyond the limits of decency. If Hassanein agreed to get a job, this would make it possible for Hussein to go directly to his girl, marry her, and lead a true life. This was his dream. But realizing it was merely a dream, he did not know when it would come true. Hassanein would continue his education, and he himself should accept this without resentment. He must wait for life to run its course as God ordained.
But one evening an unexpected event made it clear to him that he would not enjoy this interval of waiting in peace and security. Immediately after he finished having tea with Hassan Effendi, the latter said to him, “An important matter, worth discussing with you, has recently come up.”
Inquiring, Hussein raised his eyes. The man said seriously, “Ihsan’s cousin, a merchant and farmer in Beheira province, wants to ask for her hand. But before deciding this matter, I thought I’d better ask your opinion.”
So shocking was this inauspicious surprise that it left the young man incredulous, dumbfounded, defeated, and bewildered. In fact, although he had some doubt as to how true it was, he found himself at an impasse, which his suspicions failed to overcome. He felt the resentment of a man whose circumstances forced him to waver and reduced him to a state of speechlessness. What should he say to the man?! If he agreed to marry, he would betray his family; and if he refused, all connections between him and Hassan Effendi would be severed. In spite of his agitation and bewilderment, he pictured the face of the girl on whom he had pinned his hopes, feeling the grip of despair closing about his neck. Disguising his increasing resentment, the young man cast a cold look on his tormentor; the man patiently scrutinized his face.
To break the long silence, the man inquired, “Hussein Effendi, what do you have to say about this?”