To make matters worse, I discovered that my difficulty in keeping my mind on a task hadn’t left me. I made careless errors time and time again, as a result of which I repeatedly became the object of derisive criticisms and warnings from my supervisors. It was as though I were back in school with its students and teachers. The bitterness of my past life returned to haunt me, and I concluded that I’d never know true rest as long as I had to have dealings with a single human being. However, I nursed my wounds in secret, and never once did I rebel openly against anything that made me miserable. Rather, it was my wont always to obey with a bleeding heart filled with pent-up rage.
What made my suffering even more acute was the fact that I could see no way to change my life or any hope, even a distant one, of deliverance. When I was in school, I had sometimes derived the strength to endure my misery from the hope that it would be over some day and I’d become a free, independent man. Now, by contrast, I saw nothing before me but a dreary, harsh future from which the only escape would be death. I realized that relief would elude me for the rest of my life, and that I’d always be afflicted with a secret desire to flee. But where would I flee this time? The root of my misfortune lay not only in my helplessness in the face of obstacles, but also in my tendency to blow them entirely out of proportion. I’d pitted my mind against my soul in a terrible war of nerves. I’d never accustomed myself to living in reality or bearing up under its difficulties. Consequently, I knew nothing of the philosophy of being content with one’s lot or making light of one’s woes. Nor was I capable of living by the philosophy of power or revolution. Hence, whenever I was presented with something that was unbearable — and life in its entirety was unbearable as far as I was concerned — my sickly imagination would go and make a mountain out of a molehill. I faced difficulties with what appeared on the surface to be patient endurance. In reality, however, I would retreat within myself in a deadly state of misery and anxiety. Consequently, no place I went was without an enemy, whether real or imagined. The students and teachers had been my old enemies, and my fellow employees had become my new ones.
* * *
But she was my solace and delight! Life was a barren desert expanse, and she alone was the lush, green oasis in which the soul could find refuge. I swear to God, the only good thing about my job was the fact that its path led me to her doorstep. Every morning I would await her appearance the way one awaits the rising of the sun, and when I saw her approach with the sprightliness of a gazelle and the stateliness of a peacock, I’d retreat to the distant end of the tram stop in a near panic, asking God to calm my throbbing heart. Then I’d steal a glance at her while avoiding any direct eye contact between us, since that would have been an event of such moment that only the fittest would have been able to endure it. When the tram arrived, we would both board, though she had no idea what delight I took in its transporting us together. Then I’d get off as it took her to her unknown destination, attended by my prayers for the Lord to grant her happiness and protection. Thereafter her image would remain suspended in my mind’s eye, spreading over me a blanket of warmth and intimacy in the loneliness of my new prison. But how long would I be able to go on in this state? Anguish had assailed my heart, and waiting had become a torment.
My agony was made all the worse by the fact that I’d begun seeing her in the afternoons as well as in the mornings, since I’d leave home in the late afternoon the way many other employees liked to do without objection from my mother, who could no longer protest against my doing so. I would rush to my old tram stop across from her house, then stand there with longing in my eyes, waiting to see whether my “sunshine” would emerge over the horizon. Sometimes I’d see the mother, the father, the brother, or the sister, and other times I would see her in a simple but elegant house dress that would send tremors through me.
I could no longer see any hope for my life in anything but the prospect of an intimate companion. So I fell completely in love with her. I was possessed by a genuine, fervent desire for the happiness which, as far as I could see, would only be realized if I could lose myself in her, and she in me. Even so, I wasn’t unaware of the obstacles. (Indeed, had it ever been my wont to do anything but make too much of the obstacles in my path?) I hadn’t forgotten, for example, that I was still in the beginning of my career and that my salary was only seven and a half pounds a month. Then, to my dismay, I noticed that there were two other men who stood with us at the tram stop in the morning and who had a habit of regarding the girl’s face with marked attention. One of them, whom I would sometimes see coming out of the same building in which the girl lived, was around forty years old and had a dignified, serious look about him. He also had the air of a distinguished employee. As for the other, he was around thirty years old, rather obese, but well-dressed and prestigious looking, and his gestures and way of looking at others gave him an air of smugness and self-satisfaction. I was surprised to find them looking at her in this way. There was no reason for surprise, of course, but I had supposed — and what a laughable supposition it was! — that I was the first person ever to have discovered this treasure. Indignant and annoyed, I found the worm of jealousy writhing in the depths of my heart. She never looked to the right or to the left. Yet I wondered: Is she really as ignorant of them as she is of me? Especially of the neighbor who lived in her building? My heart shrank in alarm and despair, and I glared at her angrily as though she were responsible for people’s interest in her.
Meanwhile, my life followed its familiar rhythm, divided between a loathsome job and a peculiar, uncertain love.
At that time our household would have been considered a happy one, since the hearts of those who dwelled there had no reason to fear. After all, its aging patriarch had ceased his fretting, and my mother was content with the lot that had been apportioned to me and to her.
One day, though, my grandfather said to me derisively, “Have some shame, man, and buy yourself your own bed! Do you plan to go on sleeping in your mother’s arms forever?”
And in fact, I did buy myself a bed. However, I set it up in the same room — the room in which I’d come into the world — and which went on accommodating the two of us together.
19
It was a historic morning in my life when her glance fell upon me and our eyes met as she came toward the tram stop. My limbs trembled, and as I struggled with my shyness I wondered: Doesn’t she remember the young man she saw on the day when she answered my spirit’s invitation? I was intoxicated by an excitement that even the arrival of my two challengers couldn’t dampen. The tram carried us all as far as the ministry stop. I got off and rushed to the sidewalk, then glanced back at the ladies’ car. She was sitting in the last row and facing my direction, and our eyes met once again. I lowered my gaze shyly, but my heart was in bliss. As I walked briskly along, I mumbled to myself: I’ve been exposed!
That afternoon as I sat in my room not far from my mother, I recalled the happiness I’d known earlier in the day. Stealing a strange glance at her, I thought to myself: Ah, if she only knew my thoughts! Hadn’t past experience taught me that this sort of happiness on my part was among the things she viewed as unforgivable sin? This was a fact I’d never lost sight of. Even so, it seemed at that moment to be strange and unfamiliar, as though I were discovering it for the first time. I looked over at her regal, lovely face in protest and indignation, saying to myself furiously: It would probably be easier for her to hear that some harm had come to me than to discover that I’m in love! I may have been exaggerating, but her past comportment had robbed me of the ability to look at the bright, pleasant side of life without a heavy dose of fear and shame where she was concerned. So, weary of having to conceal my happiness in her presence, I left the house with a sigh of relief, then hurried as usual to the old tram stop. Looking ahead of me, I caught sight of the two sisters behind the windowpane, and I approached with a feeling of elation. With uncertain steps, I slipped into the crowd of people standing at the tram stop, wishing with all my heart that I didn’t have to leave until night had drawn its curtains. The weather was extremely cold, and it pleased me to be enduring the harshness of the elements in return for one glance from her eyes. I was certain that my height and my black coat would be sufficient to remind her who I was. Lifting my gaze fearfully, I saw her looking my way, although, given the distance that separated us, I wasn’t able to determine exactly what she was looking at. Nevertheless, a rush of delight flowed through my limbs. Although I wished it could be otherwise, the tram arrived, and bashfulness left me no choice but to get on.