Naguib Mahfouz - The Beginning and the End

Who would ever have dreamed of this? Death is not an end but the beginning of further misery that awaits me at home. When shall I free myself from such thoughts?

What chimney is this? Perhaps a factory chimney. We’re approaching Abu al-Ila Bridge. The chimney sends forth black, thick smoke. Were my thoughts or my breath to fume, I would send forth much filthier smoke. “I don’t want any harm to come to you because of me.” Right you are. You must perish alone. When will we come to the end of the road?

The taxi crossed the bridge. Strong gusts of cold, humid air, full of the fragrance of the Nile, gushed inside the taxi. Like a man scorched in a blazing fire, the young man welcomed the breeze, but it sent a shudder down Nefisa’s spine, arousing a mysterious fear in her heart, until she finally gave way to her former state of resignation, immobility, and despair. The taxi doubled its speed. As it reached the neighborhood of the Imbaba Bridge, it gradually slowed down. As the driver turned inquiringly to Hassanein, he ordered him in a low voice to stop, paid the fare, and got out. She left by the opposite door, and the taxi departed.

Now brother and sister were alone, close to the entrance of the bridge. Lamps on either side of the bridge pierced the darkness with a strong light, and distant lamps twinkled faintly along the banks of the Nile, engulfed as it was north and south in the gloom, the rows of trees on either side of the river appearing like gigantic apparitions. The place was almost deserted, with only an occasional passerby. The branches moaned against the cold wind; the trees whispered when the breeze fell. Shocked into immobility, they stood quietly. He glanced secretly at her, and saw that her head was lowered and her back a little hunched, but the sight of her stirred no feelings of pity in his hardened, merciless heart. Suddenly exasperated by his own inaction, he spoke to her roughly. “Are you ready?”

“Yes,” she answered in a strangely curious voice.

Her simple answer cut deep into his soul. He could stand still no longer and moved off with a heavy step. Before he had gone an arm’s length from her, he heard her beg him, “Don’t remember the harm I’ve done.”

Taking wide strides like a fugitive, he replied in a gruff voice, “May God have mercy on all of us.”

He left her alone in front of the bridge and walked toward the pavement extending to the right along the bank of the Nile. He quickened his pace. He felt an urge to escape, but an all-encompassing power held him back. His resistance collapsed near the huge trunk of a willow tree about thirty meters off the beginning of the pavement. Overcome with fatigue, he hid behind it. Like a monster sinking its teeth into the flesh of its prey, the bridge appeared to him as a solid mass, sparkling in the light of its lamps, obstinate and determined to link both sides of the Nile. At the entrance of the bridge facing him, he watched her move with unusual heaviness and rigidity, her head cast down as if she were walking in her sleep. Observing her clearly under the bright lights, his eyes were fixed on the illuminated side of her face, as she continued step by step to the middle of the bridge, where she halted. She raised her head and cast her eyes about her. Turning to the rail, she looked down at the swift, tumultuous water underneath. Breathless, he continued to watch her. At this moment, two men appeared at the farther end of the bridge. Busily conversing, they crossed the bridge quickly. The tram from Imbaba, shattering the silence with its noise, turned toward the bridge. The young man briefly recovered his breath, but soon became worried and depressed. Surely others must hear the violent beating of his heart. Several moments elapsed. He thought of himself as a detached observer of a scene in no way related to himself, but only after his sense of awe had displaced his anger and exasperation. In a turmoil of conflicting thoughts, he felt perplexed, like a man faced with an abstruse, mysterious problem who finds he cannot solve it or has no time to think about it. Now he was baffled and lost. Meanwhile, the two men crossed the bridge, the tram preceding them. The girl still stared at the water. Looking around, he saw no trace of a human being. All his senses crystallized in a fixed, terrified moment of expectation. He saw her turn her head to the right, then to the left. Suddenly she swiftly climbed the rail. Watching her movements, his heart quaked and his eyes protruded. Impossible! Not this …he thought. She had thrown herself into the water. Rather, she did nothing to stop herself from falling. Her protracted scream sounded like a groan, conjuring up the image of death for anyone unlucky enough to hear it. His own cry of terror was submerged in her last, piercing scream. As he watched her drown, he felt he could find the solution to the abstruse problem which perplexed him, a solution different from the one she had chosen. There might have been another solution, he thought. His cry sounded like an attempt to redress his mistake, but the cry vanished. As he heard her body tumble into the water, he gave another cry.

He leapt to the sloping bank, his eyes staring at the spot under the bridge where her body had disappeared. Uncertain what to do, or what he wanted, he remained transfixed, staring. In a few moments, he thought that perhaps her body would float up to the surface of the water, but then he realized that the rushing current under the bridge must have carried her away. Perhaps her body was being tossed under the bridge; perhaps it was sinking in the river beyond the bridge. Although the thought occurred to him to take off his clothes and jump into the water in an attempt to save her life, he remained motionless. More immobile than before, he thought how bitterly ironic it was. Had his reason ceased to control his mind? He was taken aback by a voice behind him.

“Did you hear a scream?” someone shouted wildly.

Turning around, he saw a policeman, obviously concerned.

“Yes,” he answered in surprise. “Perhaps someone is drowning.”

In the darkness, the policeman gazed at the surface of the river, then walked quickly toward the bridge. His presence brought Hassanein back to an awareness of where he was, and he withdrew to his place behind the tree. But he was unable for long to control himself, and rushed toward the bridge, crossed it, and reached the rail overlooking the other side of the river. He glanced down at the swift current. Others were aware of the accident. A swift boat was moving from the left bank to the middle of the river. He heard screams and cries for help from the farther bank. Beyond the bridge the surface of the river was illuminated by the reflected images of the lamps. His eyes searching the surface, he failed to see anything.

Carried by the current, the boat left the illuminated area, headed into the darkness. Could the boat win this race against death? he wondered. Either he couldn’t recognize his true feelings or perhaps his concentration on the boat was an attempt to escape from his thoughts. The boat stopped, and amid the noisy voices of the occupants, someone jumped into the water. This was the decisive moment. His heart quaked and his mouth was dry. In the darkness that enveloped the boat, he tried in vain to distinguish any object or make out a word in the tumult of different voices. His eyes were as tired as a blind man’s; he could no longer see anything. He became aware that a crowd of people had gathered around him.

“The boat is returning,” he heard one of them say. “Maybe they’ve rescued whoever it was.

A shudder passed down his spine. Did she survive or perish? Should I stay or get out of here? The desire to torture himself to the utmost proved irresistible; he walked toward the bank which the boat was heading for. Then, too frightened to trust to walking, he began to run as fast as he could to the place on the bank where a crowd gathered. He reached it just as the boat landed, and with shaking legs approached the crowd. His limbs trembling in spite of himself, he joined it stealthily, casting dazed glances at the boat in its thin veil of darkness. Not far away, the officer of the police station, together with some policemen, stood facing the bank. Now the shapes of men appeared carrying the drowned body, as they moved from the boat to the bank.