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The Top
- University of Arkansas Press
- Chapter
- Additional Information
The Top Light filtered through the thin slats of the closed window blind, creating a pattern of long, narrow stairs on the opposite wall. Shoukry stared at it as he sat at the round linoleum-topped kitchen table waiting for his wife to bring him a cup of coffee and some toast. The pattern shifted with the direction of the light until it started to fade and his eyes lost its movement. Walking quickly toward him, his wife set down the demitasse of Arabic coffee and a plate with two pieces of toast sliding back and forth precariously. “Here,” she said, barely parting her lips. Before he could ask about butter, she had bustled away. He sipped the coffee and ate the toast as it was, occasionally glancing up at the wall to see if the pattern might return in a different form. “I have to go in early today,” she said, grabbing her pocketbook and sweater. “If you come home before me, there is hamburger in the refrigerator. You can put it in the oven.” “Amira, what about Amira?” he asked. “She has a meeting after school.” The desk in his office in Egypt had been very large. Even if he bent forward and stretched his arms to either side as far as he could, feeling the tendons on the inside of his elbows pull and strain, his fingertips would barely grip the edges. The desk chair was cushioned, and it twirled around. The men who came to see him sat on a straight-backed hard wooden chair. They 71 would lean forward, their hands vigorously explaining their request. He would relax, fit his body into the chair’s contoured shape and let it rock a little with his movements. Never would he move his body closer to the man in front of him. Even when shaking hands, he would stand upright behind his desk, so the other man had to bend forward to reach his hand. It was this precision of his movements, he believed, that had earned him the respect of his colleagues and the men who came to see him. That was why he was called Ustaz and Pasha. He was in charge of issuing permits for the construction of new apartment buildings or adding more floors to old ones. With the population growing so fast and so many enterprising young men eager to gain some of the profit, his office had a long list of appointments that stretched six months ahead. About once every month, he would refuse to give a permit because the new government building codes had not been followed. The rest of the time, he might overlook certain discrepancies if he were offered some compensation in return. He would debate with the man across from him that the codes were really too strict given the rising cost of building materials. In his mind, he justified his actions by convincing himself that he was adhering to a set of revised codes based on his own better judgment. He thoroughly enjoyed discussing the building projects with the builders and felt himself to be an expert, often giving advice on the drawings laid out for him. “And why not? Are we less than anyone?” “I said no. Our lives here are good and we will stay here.” “Why don’t you look around you? Everyone wants to leave this country and its misery.” “What misery? I’ve reached a high position in my work. And here we are living in an apartment that is beautiful and large. What more do you want?” 72 Early Arrival “I want what all people want. I want a house for myself with a garden and a fancy car. I want to go out to enjoy myself and to see the world. I want my freedom, not this society that suffocates our desires.” “The world is in your home in front of you, your husband and your daughter. We are your world.” “You’re just afraid. A coward.” “That’s enough. You’ve given me a headache.” “Look at my sister’s husband. He doesn’t even have a college degree like you. And they’ve only been in America for six months, and now they have a house and a car. Think. You, with your college degree and your experience, how far you can go in America! This is a country that gives opportunities that one can’t imagine.” “Enough. Enough. Just what do you want from me?” “At...