Naguib Mahfouz - Khan Al-Khalili

“Do you see how she’s stopped coming?” he said.

Ahmad realized full well to whom he was referring and feigned indifference. “Don’t think about such things,” he replied. “You’re fighting for your health, so don’t deliberately weaken your own resistance.”

“The worst thing in life,” Rushdi went on as though he had not even heard what his brother had said, “is for a friend to shun you for no good reason, or for the only reason to be that bad health has kept him away.”

“Don’t bother about it and don’t give in to such dark thoughts!”

“I won’t be bothering about it any more,” Rushdi muttered sadly, “but such perfidy is evil!”

Ahmad shuddered to himself as he recalled that he himself had used exactly the same phrase earlier on. “Just remember,” he said, concealing his own emotions, “our hearts are with you. We still love you and will never treat you badly.”

Rushdi smiled. “I can’t remember when I learned these lines of poetry:

Why is it I see people shunning me

,

Only stealing glances in my direction?

People never pay attention to the sufferer;

They are only interested in the healthy.”

Ahmad frowned. “Are you trying to kill me with grief?” he asked.

“Good heavens, no!” Rushdi replied. “I love you even more than the idea of getting better!”

Ahmad went back to his own room. “Dear God,” he asked sadly, “how can she have cut him off when he is her victim?”

What had actually happened is that Kamal Khalil had been concerned about the exact nature of Rushdi’s illness. He soon shared his doubts with his wife. In order to put an end to any lingering doubts, he went to visit a friend of his in Bank Misr and inquired about Rushdi’s illness. The man told him the truth, which made Kamal Khalil very sad because he sincerely liked Rushdi and regarded him as the best possible husband for his daughter. The news hit Sitt Tawhida with all the force of a lightning bolt, and all her hopes for Nawal’s happiness vanished into thin air. Husband and wife sat down together.

“What do you think?” he asked with a frown.

His wife preferred to say nothing rather than reveal the painful truth.

“I don’t think Rushdi is going to recover from this terrible disease,” he said.

“God be kind to him!” she replied, clearly upset.

“And even if he does survive, he certainly won’t be fit for married life.”

“So what do you think?”

“I think that we have to protect my daughter’s health. She’s still young. Going into his room the way she has now done several times is exposing her to severe risks. She has to be told the truth so she won’t continue to live on fantasies or be exposed to contagion from a disease that few people ever recover from.”

“The whole thing is in God’s hands,” she replied, her tone one of sorrow and resignation.

They called Nawal in. She arrived, completely unaware of what they were about to tell her. She was looking downcast, a sign of how miserable she was feeling. Her father asked her to sit down on a chair opposite him.

“Nawal,” he said in a grave tone, “I called you here to tell you a very important secret. I’ve always known you to be an intelligent girl, and I expect you always to behave properly. You have to know that our neighbor, Rushdi, is much, much sicker than people are saying.…”

The girl’s face went very pale. Her father’s serious tone had gone straight to her heart, and she was suddenly terrified.

“What illness is it, Daddy?” she asked.

“I’m sorry to have to tell you that Rushdi is stricken with tuberculosis. As you know, it’s a dreadful disease. God’s mercy is wide; however, everyone has an obligation to take care of themselves and not to do anything rash, whatever the reason may be. Let’s all pray that our friend recovers and remember the words of God Almighty in the Qur’an: ‘ Do not cast yourself into perdition by your own hands .’ ”

Tuberculosis! God in heaven! What was her father telling her? Had her beloved Rushdi now turned into something she had to shun? Had this dreaded disease really lodged itself in his warm heart? Were all their hopes dashed and their dreams shattered? She looked back and forth between her two parents, utterly bereft. Her mother realized the agonies her daughter was going through, but had to keep the knowledge to herself in the presence of her husband.

“God knows well how sad and sorry we all are,” her mother said, “and He alone can heal our wounds. But your father’s right, Nawal. You’re still very young, and that means that you’re an easy target for this disease. So let’s do what is right for both you and us, and pray to God that Rushdi may recover. God hears and answers.…”

Nawal’s father observed her expression from beneath his bushy eyebrows, trying to read what he could see and what she was hiding. “Now you surely understand, Nawal,” he said, “why we had to call you in to talk about this. I’m sure you respect my views on the matter. I’m your father, and I’m more concerned about you than you yourself are. That’s why I’m telling you that from today you cannot visit our dear sick neighbor any more. There’s no reason to feel guilty about that; no intelligent, fair person can possibly hold it against you. Whatever the case may be, I don’t care what other people say or whether or not they choose to blame me for something, as long as it makes sense to me. So what do you have to say?”

Nawal did not have the courage to say what was really going through her mind. The respect she had for her father was such that she could not argue with his point of view. She said nothing, and he had to prod her into saying something.

“I’ll do as you say, Daddy,” she replied softly.

That was all he wanted to hear. He was afraid that if they kept on talking she might reveal her true feelings, so with a sense of relief he stood up. “That’s exactly what I expected of you,” he said and then left the room.

No sooner had he gone than Nawal looked straight at her mother.

“How can this be, Mother?” she asked.

“It’s unavoidable, Nawal,” her mother replied sadly.

“How can I not visit him?” she sobbed. “How can I stay away? When someone is afraid for herself, is that a good enough reason to desert friends in their time of trial? What’s the point of having friendship or decency in this world of ours?”

She could not go on, but burst into tears. Her mother almost did the same, but she realized that, if she weakened now, she was putting her daughter at risk.

“There’s no point in anyone catching a fatal disease for the sake of a friend who won’t be any use to you if you get sick yourself. Your father wants to make sure that you stay young and healthy, and in that he’s absolutely right.”

“Okay, Mother. I’m willing to let myself be deluded by such horrible talk, but it’ll never do me any good. This illness is not the only evil thing in this world. Faithlessness is much worse. What will Rushdi think of me? Not only that, but how am I going to defend myself in front of him and everyone else?”

“You’ll tell them that your father strictly forbade you to visit him. Your father can deal with the problems, and you have to do what he says. No one can argue with a father’s right to control his daughter’s behavior.”

“You’re so unkind, Mother! I feel as if I’m going to die of grief!”

“It would be a thousand times better for people to curse me than for me to condemn my own child to perdition.”

Hot tears were still running down Nawal’s face, and her voice broke. “He’s going to hate me,” she said in a different tone. “He’ll despise me. Then, if he gets better.…”