“Isn’t that some kind of fraud? To buy the suit, wear it for your wedding, then return it to the store?”
“Apparel companies in America are colossal and their budgets are in the millions; they would not be affected by the price of a suit. Besides, we are not in a Muslim country. I’ve consulted several trusted religious scholars and they assured me that according to the canon law, America is considered an abode of infidels and not an abode of Islam. There is also a well-known principle in jurisprudence that says ‘necessity makes the forbidden permissible.’ Therefore, my need of the price of the suit permits me to return it to the store according to the shari‘a.”
Marwa thought his line of thinking preposterous and almost asked him, Who told you that Islam commands us to steal from non-Muslims? But she also tried to find an excuse for him. She said to herself, I have to remember that he’s not as rich as my father and he does need the price of the suit. That incident passed and she would have forgotten it had not a series of unfortunate events taken place.
Danana began to complain that the scholarship stipend was too low to cover their living expenses. He repeated his complaint several times, but Marwa ignored it (perhaps in response to a mysterious internal warning). But it didn’t take Danana long to move from innuendo to a more explicit question. He asked her directly, “Can I borrow from your father a sum of money every month and pay him back when we return to Egypt?”
She looked at him in silence and he continued, laughing insolently, “I can write him an IOU, if he wants me to, so he can be reassured about his money.”
Marwa felt shocked and she began to see more clearly what her husband was really like. In spite of that, she called her father and asked him for financial help. Why? Perhaps she was hanging on to a last, flimsy thread to save herself from disappointment. She tried to convince herself that he was going through hard times because he was studying in a foreign country, that it was natural for him to be in financial straits, and that asking her father for help should not be held against him. She was surprised that her father accepted the request calmly, as if he had expected it, and began to send her a thousand dollars on the first of every month, which Danana then took from her without any compunction, even expressing impatience if it was late. Money in itself was not what worried Marwa. She was willing to contribute to the household expenses even more than that because it had been instilled in her while growing up that the model of a good wife was one who stood by her husband to the best of her ability and resources. By sheer coincidence, however, she found in Danana’s pocket a bank transfer indicating that he was paid a large sum of money in addition to the amount of the stipend. At that point she could not control herself. She asked him as anger gathered on her face like clouds on an overcast day, “Why did you hide from me your extra salary? And why do you make us ask my father for help when we don’t need it?”
Danana was taken aback for a little while, and then he regained his brazenness. “I didn’t tell you about the extra salary because no occasion had arisen. Besides, as a wife you are not entitled, by religion, to know your husband’s salary. I can provide proof of that from jurisprudence. As for the small sum that your father helps us with, I think it is quite natural because God has given him a lot of money whereas we are beginning our own life and we must save. Saving is a great virtue to which we are enjoined by the noblest of creation, the chosen one, prayers and peace be upon him.”
Marwa was naturally not convinced this time. His miserliness revealed itself as clearly as the sun on a hot cloudless day. She began to notice how his face grew ashen if he had to pay anything whatsoever, and he displayed utmost care, to the point of panic, when he counted his money and put it very slowly in his wallet, which he then interred in his inside pocket, as if it were its final resting place. Little by little she was beset by disquieting apprehensions; she was very far from her family, separated from them by the Atlantic Ocean and several thousand miles. She was lonely and a complete stranger in Chicago. No one knew her and no one cared about her. Her poor English made it impossible for her to communicate with people on the street. In this place away from home, she had no one but Danana. Could she really rely on him? What would happen if she were to fall ill or be injured in an accident? This person that she had married would not take care of her at all but would throw her into the street if she were going to cost him ten dollars. That was the truth. He was a selfish miser who thought only of himself. Perhaps now, better than at any other time, she understood why he had chosen to marry her. He had already begun to nibble at her wealth and undoubtedly had plans, after her father’s death, to seize her inheritance; perhaps even now he was calculating precisely how much that would be.
The problem, however, was not confined to his miserliness and selfishness. There was another loathsome feeling that was weighing heavily on her and getting worse every day, a very private and embarrassing matter that Marwa could not confide even to those closest to her. She even blamed herself for merely thinking about it, and yet it was painful to her and caused her great discomfort. To put it bluntly, she hated the way her husband had intercourse with her. He would come at her in a strange manner, attacking her without any preliminaries. She would be sitting, watching television in the bedroom or coming out of the bathroom, when he would pounce on her, falling on her suddenly with his erection just as adolescents do with housemaids. His crude ways caused her panic and anxiety in addition to feelings of humiliation. It also led to painful lacerations in her body. One night she hinted to him what she was suffering, avoiding looking at his face for sheer shame. But he laughed sarcastically and said, somewhat boastfully, “Try and get used to that, because my nature is strong and violent. That’s how all men are in our family. My maternal uncle in the village got married and had children after the age of eighty.”
She felt frustrated because he didn’t understand her and she couldn’t make this any clearer to him. She wished she could ask him to read the eloquent Qur’anic expression enjoining Muslim husbands to approach their wives gently and gradually so he would understand what she wanted to say but was too shy to say it. She was surprised later to find that he was using an ointment with a pungent smell and she rejected him, pushing him away from her and jumping out of bed, now doubly angry at him. She began to avoid being with him, using all kinds of pretexts, until he attacked her one night. She repelled him hard and jumped away. He shouted angrily, panting with desire and from the effort, “Fear God, Marwa. I’m warning you; God’s punishment will be severe. What you are doing is forbidden in the canon law with the consensus of religious scholars. The Messenger of God, peace and prayer be upon him, has been quoted correctly saying that the woman who refuses her husband in bed shall spend the night cursed by the angels.”
He was stretched out on the bed in front of her as she stood in her nightclothes. She got very angry and fixed him with a hateful and contemptuous glance. She almost replied that Islam would never force a woman to be intimate with a man as disgusting as he was; that the Prophet, peace be upon him, ordered a woman to be divorced from her husband just because she wasn’t pleased with him. Marwa became so incensed that, for the first time, she thought of divorce. Let him divorce her and let her go back to Egypt. A divorce is a much more merciful fate than being violated every night in this disgusting manner. “Divorce me, now.” She became so obsessed with the sentence that she saw it written in her mind. But for one reason or another (she tried to figure that out later but was never able to), as soon as she was about to reply, as soon as she opened her lips to utter the fateful sentence, mysterious and contradictory feelings came over her, forcing her to be silent. Then she found herself approaching him slowly, as if hypnotized, and began to take off her clothes, coldly and neutrally, one piece at a time, until she stood in front of him totally naked. When he attacked her she did not resist.
That night a new phase started between them. She started to yield her body to him with the utmost coldness; she would close her eyes and patiently suffer h
is heavy breaths and the disgusting stickiness of his body. The moments passed, heavy and painful, during which she fought off nausea until he was done and lay down on his back, panting and proud, as if he had won a military battle. She would then rush to the bathroom to throw up and cry from defeat, impotence, and pain. Afterward she felt aches all over her body, as if she had been given a sound beating. Her face changed after every such encounter, turning gloomy, flushed, and swollen.
Despite Marwa’s defeat in the sex battle, she persisted in rejecting the idea of having children. He kept after her insistently to have a child in America. He tried to convince her by every means he could muster; he would say to her, “You silly girl.”
“Please don’t speak to me like that.”
She would turn her face and he would get close to her, feigning affection, whispering in a hissing voice, “Listen to me, my love. If we have a child now, he would be a citizen and we will automatically get citizenship later on. People pay tens of thousands of dollars for an American passport and you are turning your back on this bounty?”
“Don’t you get tired of saying that? I don’t want to have a baby now and I cannot have one just to obtain an American passport.”
THAT NIGHT MARWA WAS RELAXING on the sofa in the living room, watching a soap opera on the Egyptian satellite channel, when she heard the doorbell ringing. Because she was not expecting anyone, she got up reluctantly, somewhat worried, remembering all the warnings she had often heard about opening the door to strangers in Chicago. She looked through the peephole and saw Safwat Shakir standing there, smiling. It didn’t take him long to say loudly, “Is Dr. Danana home?”
“No, he is not.”
“Sorry, madam. I came from Washington especially to meet him. My telephone, unfortunately, is not working. Can I come in and wait for him?”
She didn’t answer, so he went on persistently, “I want him for an important matter that cannot wait.”
She knew Safwat Shakir; she had seen him more than once at consulate receptions and had never trusted him. He always seemed to her to be arrogant and suspicious. But she knew that her husband respected him. She had no choice, so she opened the door and let him in. He was well dressed as usual and wore an expensive cologne. He shook her hand and sat in the nearest chair in the entryway. She sat in front of him, leaving the apartment door open. She telephoned Danana and told him and he assured her he would come right away. She had to show her guest some hospitality, so she made him a cup of tea and diplomatically but firmly stopped his repeated attempts to start a conversation with her. As soon as Danana arrived, she withdrew to her room. Danana did not pay any mind to her but gave his distinguished guest his undivided attention. He rushed to welcome him, panting (perhaps exaggerating to some extent to prove that he had run all the way there). He said with a flattering smile, “Welcome, sir. You’ve lit up Chicago.”
“I’m sorry I came without an appointment.”
“Your Excellency, please, you honor us any time you please.”
“Please apologize to the lady for the inconvenience.”
“On the contrary, sir. Marwa is happy you are here because she knows how much respect I have for you.”
Safwat sat back in his chair and said, “What I came here for is extremely important.”
“May it all be to the good, God willing.”
“First I have some questions.”
“At your service, sir.”
“Do you have any Egyptian Copts in the department?”
“There are no Copts in the histology department. They are in internal medicine, surgery, and physiology. The Medical Center at the University of Illinois in Chicago has only seven Copts, all of whom I know.”
Safwat took out of his jacket pocket a folded piece of paper that he slowly opened and handed over to Danana, who took it, read it with interest, then looked angry and said, “Obscene lies!”
“This is one of numerous broadsides that have been distributed last week. Keep it and read it when you have the time. The Copts in Exile are getting more and more active to a worrying degree. They attack Egypt and our revered president with insolence. Unfortunately the American administration listens to them.”
“They’re all traitors, agents on Israel’s payroll.”
Safwat Shakir bowed his head for a moment then spoke in a serious tone. “Israel has ties with only one organization. The rest of the Coptic organizations work on their own and raise their own money. They attack the regime to win gains for the Copts in Egypt.”
“That’s impossible, sir. Egypt does not give in to blackmail. Besides, seeking support from abroad is treason.”
Danana recited this quickly, as if it were a lesson he had memorized. Safwat nodded then asked in a serious tone of voice, “What do you know about Karam Doss?”
“He is a heart surgeon, a millionaire who lives in a posh mansion in Oak Park and is one of the leaders of Copts in Exile.”
“Write me a detailed report about him.”
“At your service.”
“I want comprehensive data and a situation assessment.”
“By all means.”
“As for that boy, Nagi Abd al-Samad, State Security has sent me a complete copy of his dossier. Watch out, he’s a troublemaker.”
Danana laughed loudly in a derisive tone and said, “That Nagi boy is up to no good. I know him from Egypt and I have prepared for him a program that you’d like, sir.”
Silence fell for a few moments, then Safwat sighed and said, “Now to the more important subject.”
Danana lit a cigarette and looked through his glasses in utmost attention to Safwat, who continued in a soft voice, “The president, God willing, is coming on a visit to America in two months. It’s a very important visit and comes under extremely sensitive circumstances and requires good preparation from us. Time is short, and any mistake on our part would result in a catastrophe.”
“Did Your Excellency find out his itinerary?”
“The itinerary is never revealed until the last moment and it is usually changed suddenly for security reasons. But I have found out, in my own way, that the president will visit Washington and New York and come to Chicago. Of course he will meet with his sons and daughters, the Egyptian students here.”
“Meeting with our revered president is a national festive occasion for all Egyptian students here.”
“You’re intelligent, Danana, and you understand that any visit by the revered president could change our lives. After the visit I could leave here to become a minister or be pensioned off.”
“To the ministry, sir, God willing. But please don’t forget me.”
Safwat Shakir laughed and he seemed to be in a good mood. He got up to leave but Danana insisted that he stay for dinner. Almost begging him, he said, “Safwat Bey, please, don’t deprive me of this honor, have dinner with us.”
“I have an important appointment at the consulate.”
“Please, sir, have a quick bite then go in God’s peace, to your appointment.”
Danana rushed inside, and in about a quarter of an hour Marwa emerged carrying the plates. Safwat received her with a smile and a scrutinizing look.
“Once again, I apologize for disturbing you, madam.”
Marwa muttered a few words, as if denying that she had been disturbed, but her face did not reflect that sentiment, which made Danana stare at her more than once to warn her. When he gave up on her face turning toward him, he started on another interlude welcoming Safwat. Marwa turned around to leave and Safwat asked her boldly, “Aren’t you going to eat with us?”
“I had dinner a short while ago. Please go ahead, Your Excellency, and enjoy in good health,” Marwa answered right away, as if expecting the question. Danana sat at the table opposite Safwat, who opened his briefcase and took out a miniature bottle of scotch. “Would you get me some ice?”
In a few moments Danana brought ice cubes and a large empty glass. Safwat said apologetically as he poured the whiskey, “I acquire
d this habit living in the West for many years: to have a drink with my meals.”
“You, sir, exert a superhuman effort in your work and you are entitled to some recreation.”
Safwat answered him with a dignified smile as he sipped his drink. He ate heartily then got up to leave. Danana saw him off to the door, and they had a short, serious conversation about what should be done in the following days. Danana stood bidding his master good-bye with his eyes until he disappeared inside the elevator. Danana sighed and closed the door behind him. And, just as a main character’s face changes from good to evil in science fiction movies, Danana’s features changed gradually as he crossed the corridor. When he reached the bedroom, his face expressed extreme wrath. He opened the door forcefully and found his wife lying down on the bed. He shouted in a thunderous voice, “Your behavior with the man was in extreme poor taste.”
“It’s he who doesn’t know how to behave properly. How can he come into your house when you are not there?” Marwa responded calmly.
“He wanted me for an important matter.”
“He could’ve left a message.”
“It’s much more important than that.”
“I don’t trust him.”
“Do you know who Safwat Shakir is?”
“It doesn’t matter who he is.”
“Safwat Shakir is the intelligence officer in the Egyptian embassy and the most important official there, more important than the ambassador himself. One report from him can raise me sky-high or ruin my future.”
Marwa looked at him for a long time, as if seeing him for the first time. “No matter what his post is, he has no right to enter your house when you are not there. Besides, I refuse to turn my house into a tavern.”
“I won’t allow you to ruin my future. I warn you. If he comes here again and you behave improperly toward him, it will be the end between us.”
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