Chicago, Alaa Aswany [first e reader .TXT] 📗

exchanging jokes and Jeff seized the opportunity and kissed her. Ra’fat was watching them from the window of his office, and then suddenly he decided to ignore his daughter completely. To hell with her. From now on he won’t care; if she didn’t love him enough, he also would stop loving her. He would live out the rest of his days as if he never had any children. He moved away from the window and lay down on the sofa. He could hear the sound of their laughter in the garden. His wife, Michelle, was taking part in their merrymaking, as if celebrating. It was then that he felt a deep-seated hatred toward all of them. Moments later, he came to as he heard a light tap on the door. It opened and Sarah appeared. She looked calm and refreshed, her face carefree, with her hair gathered at the back of her head. She fixed him with an innocent look and said in a matter-of-fact voice as if she were going on a school field trip, “I came to say good-bye.”

“Where to?”

“I think you know.”

“Well, I thought perhaps you’d reconsider.”

“I’ve made up my mind. I’m going.”

He went over to her, hugged her tightly, and kissed her forehead and cheeks several times. Her body exuded that pure smell that filled his nostrils when he carried her as a child. He looked at her for a long while and whispered, “Take good care of yourself. If you need anything, get in touch with me.”

After Sarah left, he spent an ordinary Sunday with Michelle. They went to the movies then had dinner at an Italian restaurant by the lake. It surprised him that they didn’t talk about Sarah all day long, as if they had agreed to ignore the subject. It also surprised him that, as soon as they went back home, he felt an overwhelming desire for her. He had sex with her as he hadn’t for years. He fell upon her, his feeling unleashed passionately and hard, as if he were burying his sadness inside her or seeking her protection, or stabbing her in revenge for Sarah’s departure. When they were done, she succumbed to a calm sleep but he was lost in his dark thoughts. Suddenly the bedside light was turned on and he saw her still-sleepy face.

“Ra’fat, why aren’t you asleep?”

“I can’t, because of the coffee I had after dinner.”

She smiled compassionately and laid her hand on his head.

“No, Ra’fat. It’s not because of the coffee. I know exactly how you feel. I’m also sad that Sarah left, but what can we do? This is life; we must accept it.”

He remained silent. She went on, “I’ll miss Sarah a lot, but I tell myself that she is living in Chicago and not in a faraway city. In a sense, she’s living next door. We’ll visit and invite her, from time to time, to spend the weekend with us.”

This sadness is not sincere. She’s happy for what happened, thought Ra’fat. It was she who encouraged Sarah to leave and was now pretending to be sad.

Michelle got close to him, planted a kiss on his cheek, and embraced him. He felt empty and exhausted and had nothing to say. Suddenly he asked her, “Do you know where Sarah will live with Jeff?”

“At his house.”

“Of course at his house. Do you know where that house is? It’s in Oakland, the poorest and dirtiest neighborhood in Chicago.”

“Jeff explained to me. He cannot pay the rent in a better neighborhood, but when he sells his new painting, his situation will improve.”

“Did he convince you too of these delusions? Do you think anyone will pay a single dollar to buy this nonsense that he spatters on the canvases?”

“Ra’fat, I don’t understand why you hate him so much.”

“It’s I who don’t understand this apathy that’s come over you. This creep took your only daughter to the dirtiest neighborhood in Chicago and you’re still defending him?”

“I am not defending—”

“You are not only defending, you’re actually behind it.”

“What are you saying?”

“It was you who encouraged her to leave home.”

“Ra’fat!”

“Stop this silly charade.”

“Listen.”

“You listen. I am sick and tired of the role you’re playing. You’ve never loved me. You regret having married me. You’ve always believed you deserved a better husband. Every day you make me feel inferior to you in everything. You’ve done everything to prove to me that I was just a backward Egyptian whereas you were created from a superior race.”

“Stop this.”

“I am not going to stop. We need to face reality. You’ve hated me and used Sarah as your vengeance. You made me lose her.”

Michelle looked at him in alarm. He was standing in the middle of the room. It seemed as if he had lost his mind. He hit the bed with his foot and began to shout, “Speak. Why don’t you tell me? Haven’t you planned for this day? Congratulations, Michelle. You’ve succeeded. You’ve made me lose my only daughter.”

He went to the closet, opened it forcefully, took off his pajamas and threw them on the floor, and began putting on his street clothes. Michelle jumped from the bed and tried to restrain him, but he pushed her away. She tried again, standing to block the door with her body. He shouted at her loudly, “Get out of my way.”

“Where are you going?”

“It’s none of your business.”

She tried to say something, but he pulled her forcefully by the hand to push her away. She lost her balance and fell on the edge of the bed. He went out and slammed the door hard. After a little while she heard the sound of his car pulling away.

CHAPTER 11

How Shaymaa has changed!

She followed meticulously all the instructions in the recipes on the program Sitt al-Husn (Lady of Beauty) broadcast every Wednesday on the Egyptian satellite channel. She got rid of the pimples on her face by using a rub of salt and olive oil. Her