encouraging smile. “Don’t pay any attention to those crazies.”
Shaymaa looked at her and asked, panting, “What do they want?”
“They are antiabortion groups. They know we operate in the early morning, so they come to make trouble.”
“Why don’t the police arrest them?”
“The law permits abortion, but it also permits peaceful demonstration. Don’t worry about it. They are a bunch of fascist fanatics, no more and no less. I think you have an appointment with Dr. Karen?”
“Yes.”
“Come with me.”
Dr. Karen was a slim young woman in her late twenties. She had long chestnut-colored hair coming down on her elegant white coat. She received Shaymaa very warmly; she shook her hand, embraced and kissed her, then smiled at her and whispered, like a mother coddling her little daughter, “How are you? Don’t worry. Everything will be all right.”
This sudden display of kindness was too much for Shaymaa, who started crying as Dr. Karen kept calming her down. She asked her to wash her face. Shaymaa went to the bathroom and came back, and sat before the doctor, who gave her some papers, saying, “This is some necessary paperwork. This is some information about you that we need you to fill out; this is a statement that you agree to the operation that we need you to sign. This is a cost list. Do you have a credit card?”
Shaymaa shook her head. The doctor asked in a matter-of-fact voice, “Can you pay cash?”
The paperwork took about half an hour. She spent the following half hour undergoing medical tests: a urine test, a blood pressure test, and a sonogram. In the end, Shaymaa took off her clothes with the help of the nurses, and put the blue hospital gown on her naked body.
When Dr. Karen held her hand, she noticed that she was shaking. “Don’t be afraid. It’s not a dangerous operation.”
“I’m not afraid of death.”
“What’re you afraid of then?”
Shaymaa fell silent then said in a shaking voice, “Of God’s punishment. What I’ve done is a big sin in our religion.”
“I don’t know much about Islam but I believe that God must be fair. Right?”
“Yes.”
“Is it fair for a woman to be deprived of the right to respond to her feelings with the one she loves? Is it fair for the woman, alone, to bear the responsibility of an unwanted pregnancy? Is it fair to bring into this world a baby that nobody wants? To doom it to a miserable life before it even begins?”
Shaymaa looked at her in silence. She could no longer speak. She had nothing to say. The moment was much bigger than anything that could be said about it. She was now in an abortion clinic because she’d become pregnant out of wedlock. Shaymaa Muhammadi was bearing a baby in sin and was going to have an abortion. She didn’t really have a way to describe all that. Was she anxious to find out what fate was hiding from her? If she was going to die during the operation, if these were the last moments in her life, she would accept the punishment as just. All she cared about was not to create a scandal for her family that would haunt them forever. The woman in charge at the clinic had reassured her that the operation was confidential. Even if she died, the official papers would not mention that she was having an abortion. Shaymaa stood in her hospital gown, looking blankly at Dr. Karen, who put her arms around her and said, “We’ll have time later on to talk about many things. We’ve become friends, right?”
Shaymaa nodded and walked with her across the short corridor leading to the operating room. They went through the double doors, and then Dr. Karen left her with a nurse who helped her get onto a gurney. A gray-haired white man appeared. He smiled and said, “Good morning. My name is Adam. I’m the anesthesiologist.”
He held her arm and asked her what her name was. Then he stung her lightly in the arm and soon she felt her body loosen up. Little by little her mind changed, as if it were a large screen to which transmission had stopped, so it remained dark for a while, then colored pictures fraught with strange and wild feelings came onto it. She saw everything: her father, mother, sisters, their house in Tanta, Tariq Haseeb, and the histology department. Persons and things appeared different from what they ordinarily looked like. She had a hard time making them out and felt unhappy seeing their distorted gray images. She opened her mouth more than once to object to the way they were made to look, but she discovered that she had no voice, as if her larynx had been removed. She was terrified and kept screaming but had no voice. She remained a prisoner of that strange, frightening condition for a while. Then she finally saw a thread of light looming in the distance. It was as if the dark had resulted from heavy black curtains that now began to be opened slowly. As the light increased, new shapes appeared, blended at first; then they soon separated and appeared more clearly, little by little. Finally, with difficulty, she was able to make out Dr. Karen’s face. She saw her smile and heard her say, “Congratulations, Shaymaa. Everything went fine. In a short while you’ll be home.”
She smiled as much as she could. Dr. Karen went on in a voice that was now quite clear, “In addition to the success of the operation, I have another surprise for you.”
Shaymaa looked at her with exhausted and unfocused eyes. Karen winked and laughed, saying, “Of course you can’t wait to know what the surprise is. Well, we have a visitor who cares about you and who has been begging us to see you.”
Shaymaa extended her arm to object, but Karen hurried toward the door. She opened it and made a gesture with her hand. Soon Tariq Haseeb appeared. He was unshaven and looked pale and exhausted, as if he hadn’t slept in a while. He moved forward a few steps until he stood next to the bed. He looked at Shaymaa, staring with his bulging eyes, and a wide smile appeared on his face.
Translator’s Acknowledgments
I WOULD LIKE TO THANK the following friends and colleagues for help with various aspects of the translation: Robert (Bob) Wiley and Kelly Zaug, and from the American University in Cairo Press, Neil Hewison and Nadia Naqib, and from HarperCollins Publishers, Jeanette Perez.
About the Author
Internationally bestselling author ALAA AL ASWANY was born in 1957. A dentist by profession, he is the author of
