Naguib Mahfouz - The Mirage

The only thing I could think of to say was another, “Good morning!”

“Good morning!” she replied, her smile broader this time.

Lord! Had my vocabulary gone bankrupt? And I fell back into the same torment once again. I felt as though a couple of iron hands were squeezing my neck and that I couldn’t bear this miserable situation a single moment longer. Hopelessness and timidity had such a hold on me that I cried out to her for help, saying, “I’m sorry. I don’t know what to say. This is the first time I’ve talked to a girl!”

She let a short laugh escape in spite of herself and, as though my very shyness had emboldened her, she said playfully, “Actually, it’s the second.”

Ah! She was referring to my pursuit of her three days earlier. I remembered it in astonishment, as though I weren’t really her courageous hero. Be that as it may, her playfulness emboldened me and alleviated my awkwardness and shyness. It also enabled me to say, “Please don’t think badly of me. I swear to God, if my tongue weren’t tied, I’d have a whole world of things to say.”

She laughed, looking up and aiming her glance more fully at me.

Then she said, “Do you realize we haven’t introduced ourselves yet?”

Here was a question I could answer. If only the conversation could have been questions on her part, and answers on mine.

Feeling relieved, I said, “Kamil Ru’ba Laz, employee at the Ministry of War.”

I wished I could tell her about my monthly income and my anticipated fortune.

As for her, she said, “Rabab Gabr, teacher at the Abbasiya Kindergarten.”

I loved the name just as I’d loved the person to whom it belonged.

“Rabab!” I said, as though I wanted to hear the way it sounded one more time.

Feeling heartened and more familiar with her now, I said simply, “Imagine! I’ve been stealing glances at your face for two years now, and I still didn’t even know your name!”

“Two years!” she exclaimed as a look of astonishment came over her pretty face.

Pleased by the fact that she was so surprised, I said enthusiastically, “Yes, it’s been nearly two years. Hadn’t you noticed?”

I listened intently so as to drink in the voice that I’d longed to hear for so long.

“I only noticed a few months ago!” she said with a laugh. “How patient you are!”

There was a barb in her words, of that I was certain. It was as if she were saying, “What kept you quiet for so long that you nearly missed your chance?” Taking advantage of the opportunity to declare what I wished I could have declared long before, I said, “I was prevented from saying anything by difficult circumstances. I couldn’t propose to you when I wasn’t qualified to do so. Then the circumstances changed and my situation improved. It wasn’t long after that that I approached you on the tram, though I was so crazy, I acted in a way that was out of character for me. The fact is that once I was able to come forward, I only waited a matter of days, even though I.…” I nearly said, “even though I’d loved you for two years,” but the words wouldn’t come out.… “Even though what you know to be the case had been so for two years.”

She looked straight ahead with a faint smile on her face, saying, “And what is it that I know to be the case?”

I fell silent for a few moments as I gathered my strength. Then I said, “You know that I.…”

My lips formed the words, “I love you” without uttering them aloud. However, she saw and understood without a doubt. As my heart nearly beat out of my chest, I lowered my gaze bashfully and went into a passing stupor that absented me from everything around me as though I’d momentarily exited the universe. I looked over at her furtively and found her blushing, with a pensive, serious look on her face. This was a sacred moment. Indeed, time labors under the burden of the weighty moments that have been witnessed by humanity in the course of its history. However, this kind of moment remains among the most glorious of all that time has known. Nor is its weightiness diminished by the fact that it takes place thousands of times every day all over the world. It’s the only thing that’s repeated time and time again without ever becoming wearisome. After all, how could it — love — become wearisome when it contains the very secret of existence? I couldn’t take her into my arms — not because of the orange-laden caravan of camels that happened to be passing by, but rather because I wasn’t allowed to touch her at all. We walked some distance without saying a word, my timidity preventing me from elaborating on this particular point. Rethinking the matter from its other angles, I said with a smile, “What happened with Muhammad Gawdat?”

Staring at me incredulously, she asked, “How did you know about him?”

She listened with rapt attention as I told her the story of the meeting that had taken place between the two of us.

Then she said, “He’s a virtuous, respectable man and a high-ranking employee, and my father welcomed him. As for my mother, she wasn’t terribly enthusiastic about his proposal since he’s so much older than I am. Besides, he’s been married before and he has a fifteen-year-old daughter. I told my mother about our meeting on the street three days ago, and she stipulated that they need to know everything about you before she says what she thinks.”

My heart fluttered with a combination of trepidation and joy.

Though there was no need to inquire, I asked her, “And does she know about this meeting of ours?”

She smiled without making any reply. I remembered my job uneasily and with embarrassment. However, it didn’t even occur to me to lie or change the facts.

I said, “As I’ve told you, I’m an employee at the Ministry of War. However, I have a monthly income of sixteen pounds from family endowments. In addition, I own more than a thousand pounds. I have nothing to be ashamed of in my past, and if they should inquire about me, you’ll see that I’ve told nothing but the truth.”

She smiled and said earnestly, “Of that there’s absolutely no doubt.”

I gazed over at her with profound gratitude. At that moment I thought back on the longing and misery I’d endured on her account, and I was flooded with a joy that defies words. At the same time I wondered fearfully: Will I come up to her mother’s standards? Won’t she despise my lowly position, or not find me worthy of this lovable teacher? My heart shrank in terror, and I thought of telling her what was troubling me, but timidity got the better of me.

Then a new thought occurred to me and I asked her without hesitation, “Will you continue in your job if things turn out the way I hope?”

“Why not?” she replied. “I adore my work, and lots of my colleagues.…”

Realizing what she’d been about to say, my heart fluttered joyously and I cast her a timid look filled with hopefulness and affection.

“That’s good,” I said approvingly.

Silence reigned briefly, and the sound of our footsteps on the sunlight-strewn boulevard seemed to grow louder. I glanced over at the Nile and saw its dark surface rippling beneath the scattered pearls of light. I began peering nervously and warily into the faces of the few passersby. The sun had tempered the chill in the air, causing a joyous energy to flow through our beings. I could feel life’s goodness in a way I’d never felt it before, and I was filled with such gratitude I wished I could kneel down and kiss the earth in thanksgiving. However, I hadn’t forgotten the serious matters that were preoccupying me, or what appeared to me to be serious matters.

So I asked her, “Tell me now what I’m supposed to do.”

“What do you mean?” she asked in bewilderment.