Then the old lady said, as though drawing a conclusion from the premises she had previously laid out, 'Hasn't God preserved and protected you?'
Although the comment was meant to console her, it made her remember her present condition. She awoke from the dream of her happy past to return to her current melancholy. A person who has forgotten his sorrows can be forced to confront them once more when someone with the best intentions favors him with a word of comfort. Amina sat idly and grimly beside her mother. The only time she had felt like this had been during her recent confinement in bed. She disliked it and was uncomfortable. Her continuing conversation with her mother only occupied half her attention. The other half was given over to restless anxiety.
At noon, when Sadiqa brought in a tray with lunch, the old lady told her, mainly to distract her daughter, 'A new watchman has come to discover your thefts'.
Just then Amina was not interested in whether the maid stole or acted honestly. The servant did not respond to her mistress, out of respect for the guest and because she had grown so accustomed to both the bitter and sweet sides of her mistress that she would have missed one without the other.
As the day wore on, Amina thought even more desperately about her household. Al-Sayyid Ahmad would be returning home for his lunch and siesta. Then after he went back to his store the boys would be arriving, one after the other. Her imagination derived extraordinary power from her pain and homesickness. She could see the house and its inhabitants as though they were present. She saw al-Sayyid Ahmad removing his cloak and caftan without any assistance from her. She was afraid he might have gotten used to that during her long stay in bed. She attempted to read the thoughts and intentions hidden behind his forehead. Did he sense the void she had created by leaving? How did he react when he found no trace of her in the house? Hadn't he made some reference to her for one reason or another? Here were the boys returning home, rushing to the sitting room after waiting impatiently for the coffee hour. They found her place empty. They were asking about her. They were answered by their sisters' gloomy and tearful looks. How would Fahmy take the news? Would Kamal understand the significance of her absence? This question made her heart throb painfully. Were they deliberating for a long time? What were they waiting for? Perhaps they were already on their way, racing toward her… They must be on their way. Or had he ordered them not to visit her? They must be in al-Khurunfush already… A few minutes would tell.
'Were you talking to me, Amina?'
This question from the old lady interrupted Amina’s train of thought. With a mixture of astonishment and embarrassment she came to her senses. She inferred that some words from her internal dialogue had inadvertently slipped out and been picked up by her mother’s sharp ear. She found herself obliged to answer, 'I was asking, Mother, if the boys won't come visit me'.
'I think they've arrived'. The elderly woman was listening intently and leaning her head forward.
Amina listened silently. She heard the door knocker telegraphing quick, consecutive beats like a voice urgently calling out for help. She recognized Kamal’s touch in these nervous raps. She knew who it was just as well as when she heard him knock on the door of the oven room at home. She quickly dashed to the head of the stairs and called to Sadiqa to open the door. She looked down over the railing. She saw the boy leaping up the steps with Fahmy and Yasin following him. Kamal clung to her and prevented the others from embracing her for a while.
When they entered their grandmother’s room they were all talking at the same time, heedless of the others' comments because their souls were so agitated and their minds so confused. Then they saw their grandmother, standing with her arms spread out and her face beaming in a smile of welcome filled with love, and they stopped talking so they could kiss her, one after the other.
The room was relatively quiet except for the soft noise of their kisses. At last Yasin cried out in a sad voice of protest, 'We no longer have a home. We will never have a home until you return to us'.
Like a fugitive seeking asylum, Kamal climbed into his mother’s lap. For the first time he stated his decision that he had kept secret at home and on the way: 'I'm staying here with Mother… I'm not going back with you'.
Fahmy had been gazing at her silently for a long time the way he did when he wanted to tell her something with a look. This silent glance was the best expression for her of what both their hearts were feeling. He was her darling and his love for her was exceeded only by hers for him. When he talked to her, he rarely spoke openly of his feelings, but his thoughts, words, and deeds all revealed them. He had seen a look of pain and embarrassment in her eyes that upset him terribly. He said sadly and painfully, 'We're the ones who suggested you should go out. We encouraged you to do it. But here you're the only one getting punished'.
His mother smiled in confusion and said, 'I'm not a child, Fahmy. I shouldn't have done it…'
Yasin was touched by this exchange. His distress increased because he was so upset at being the proponent of the ill-omened suggestion. He hesitated for a long time between repeating his apology for the suggestion within earshot of their grandmother, who would criticize him or harbor a grudge against him, and keeping silent, even though he wanted to get some relief by expressing his anguish. He overcame his hesitation and chose to repeat Fahmy’s comment in different words. He said, 'Yes, we're the guilty ones, and you're the one who got accused'. Then with special emphasis, as though reacting to his father’s stubbornness and rigidity, he continued: 'But you will return. The clouds overshadowing all of us shall be dispersed'.
Kamal took hold of his mother’s chin and turned her face toward him. He showered her with a stream of questions about the meaning of her departure from the house, how long she would stay at his grandmother’s house, what would happen if she returned with them, and so on. None of her answers was able to calm his mind. Not even his determination to stay with his mother was able to reassure him, for he was the first one to doubt that he would be able to carry through on it.
After each of them had finished expressing his feelings, the course of the conversation changed. They began to discuss the situation in a new way, for as Fahmy said, 'There’s no point talking about what has happened. We need to think about what will happen'.
Yasin replied, 'A man like our father is not willing to let an incident like Mother’s excursion pass unnoticed. He will inevitably express his anger in a way that’s hard to forget. But he will never exceed the limits of what he has already done'.
This opinion seemed plausible and everyone was relieved by it. Fahmy expressed both his satisfaction and his hopes when he said, 'The proof you're right is that he hasn't done anything else. Someone like him doesn't postpone something once he’s resolved to do it'.
They talked a lot about their father’s heart. They agreed that he had a good heart, even though he was severe and easily enraged. They thought it highly unlikely that he would do something to injure his reputation or harm anyone.
At that point the grandmother said, just to tease them, since she knew what an impossible request it was, 'If you were men, you would search for some way to touch your father’s heart and make him stop being so stubborn'.
Yasin and Fahmy exchanged sarcastic glances about this pretense of manliness that would melt at the first mention of their father. The mother for her part was afraid that the discussion between the two young men and the grandmother would lead to some reference to the automobile accident. She motioned to them, pointing to her shoulder and then her mother, to tell them she had kept it a secret from her. As though springing to the defense of the virility of the two youths, she told her mother, 'I don't want either of them to expose himself to the man’s anger. Leave him alone until he’s ready to forgive'.
Then Kamal asked, 'When is he going to forgive you?'
The mother gestured upward with her index finger and murmured, 'Forgiveness comes from God'.
As usual in a situation like this, the conversation went full circle. Everything that had been said before was repeated in the same words or different ones. Rosy thoughts continued to predominate. The conversation went on, without bringing up anything new, until night fell and the time came to leave. Their hearts were overwhelmed by the pervasive gloom of departure, and they were too busy thinking about it to have anything to say. A silence reigned, like that before a storm, broken only by words intended to soften its impact or to make it seem it was not yet time to say goodbye. Out of compassion for the other side, no one was willing to take responsibility for saying goodbye.
At this time the old lady guessed what was troubling the people around her. She blinked her sightless eyes and ran her fingers through her prayer beads quickly and devoutly. Minutes passed which, despite their brevity, were unbearably oppressive, like the moments when a dreamer expects, in his nightmare, to fall from a great height. Then she heard Yasin’s voice say, 'I think it’s time for us to go. We'll return soon to fetch you, God willing'.
