Canceled Memories: A Novel

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66 7 Huda was in her office preparing questions for the monthly exams when a soft knock interrupted her train of thought. When she opened the door, a pale, skinny young man dressed in faded shirt and jeans stood before her. He hesitated. “Is this Dr. Halim Nasser’s office?” “It used to be. He moved the day before yesterday.” “Could you please tell me where?” “It’s on the second floor, room number . . . ugh! I don’t think he is in today. Anyway, let’s go ask the secretary.” When it turned out that Halim was really absent that day, Huda told the young man, “Come back tomorrow. He’ll be in his office at ten.” He hesitated for a minute. “I can’t come tomorrow. I don’t know when I can come back.” “Who should I say asked for him?” He froze for a moment before saying, “Please tell him Qasim Ali came by . . . if he still remembers me.” “Sure,” Huda answered without thinking, and the young man left. A moment later she froze: Qasim Ali?! She ran after him, but he was gone. She asked some students and employees, but no one had seen him. She went back to her office, angry with herself. Hadn’t Halim come to see me that day to talk to her about a student—perhaps Qasim Ali? Or had there been another reason? Dina had gone to bed, and I was in my room preparing my lessons for the next day when the phone rang. C a n c e l e d M e m o r i e s       67 “Huda? You’re home then.” I recognized his voice right away, “Where else would I be, Halim? Of course I’m home.” “Okay. I’ll be right over.” I was both bothered and not by the unexpected visit. I had to prepare a lesson, so now I was going to have to get up early in the morning, but I was pleased that my two friends were coming over—especially these old friends from college. Nobody else visited me since Sharif had left. I imagined what men told their wives about me: “We don’t want you hanging out with the woman who left her husband.” They didn’t want me rubbing off on their wives, corrupting their subservience. As for the women, they feared for their husbands—the single, lonely woman was a danger. People no longer invited me for lunch or dinner at their homes. I left my books and papers, straightened up the living room, prepared the kettle, coffee, and sugar, and set some cups on a tray. As I finished, the doorbell rang. “Hi, Halim.” I looked behind him. He was alone. “Where’s Sumaya?” “She couldn’t make it, so I came alone.” He came in and shut the door behind him. I didn’t move, and my heart started beating quickly. He had never come over alone. Did Sumaya know he was at my place? Weren’t people finally convinced that I was innocent of what Sharif had accused me? I never saw Jawad after that day. I never had him over, or anyone else for that matter, after Sharif left us. Didn’t they know me better than to think I was like one of those women? Or did they just assume every lonely woman is easy prey sooner or later? “What’s the matter, Huda?” He’d taken his coat off and sat down on the couch where he usually did. He looked at me, his eyes full of innocent surprise. Had I misjudged him, or had he faked this surprise and innocence? I remained standing, as thoughts raced and clashed in my head. If I believed in his innocence, he might cross the line, and I would have to put an end to our friendship. What if I didn’t believe in his innocence and asked him to leave? Wouldn’t that end our friendship too? Whatever was to happen would happen. “I’m sorry, Halim. I can’t have you in my house alone,” I said and reached for the doorknob. 68      N a z i k S a b a Y a r e d “Come on, Huda. I’m like your brother! I came here to unburden my soul to you. I’m concerned about a student of mine. Qasim Ali has suddenly disappeared...