by Zeina Halim
Shereen caught a glimpse of her face in the mirror. She touched her swelled eye and the pain brought her out of her daze. She looked at her watch. 5:46pm. She had to hurry. She grabbed her black leather purse and put on her big bubble sun glasses.
She left an envelope on the bed and ran out to her car. She had so much stuff in the back seat of her Buick Le Sabre that she could barely see out of the rear window. She started her car and pulled out of her spot. Shereen disliked living on Broadway Street. It was very busy and cars came shooting out of the Broadway tunnel so fast that she always had to wait for several minutes to pull out of her driveway. She tapped her fingers on the steering wheel as she watched the endless line of cars go by. She looked at her watch again. 5:50pm. Her heart started to beat faster and she felt her palms sweating against the leather steering wheel. With every car that came into view she held her breath a little to make sure that the next one wouldn't be the familiar gold Pontiac GTO. She thought she saw the gold GTO a few cars away and immediately cut off the approaching car that was three cars ahead of it. The car behind her slammed on its breaks and its horn, but Shereen paid no attention to this. Her stare was fixed on the gold GTO in her rear view mirror. When the GTO passed the driveway that she had just exited, she felt a lump in her throat. She wasn't sure whether it was him, but if it was he must have seen her and was now following her. She made a left at the next street and waited to see if the car would reappear. But when she saw it again in her rear view mirror it turned right. She let out a long breath and released her strangling grip on the wheel.
She got on the 101 freeway heading south and reset her odometer to calculate the miles. She was driving to her parents house in San Jose-about an hour and a half from San Francisco. But this was not going to be a short visit. She was planning on staying for a long time. She would stay at their house until she could find a job and have enough money to pay rent for her own apartment. But she was not going to return to San Francisco. She was leaving her home and her husband, Hesham, for good.
She turned on the radio to try to calm down. The dial was set to her favorite station of upbeat 50's and 60's songs. This was just what she needed. She sang aloud to "Rock Around the Clock". The next song that came on was "At Last." This was the theme song from her wedding with Hesham. At first she sang along with Etta James, "At last my love has come around. My lonely days are over . . ." She remembered what a catch everyone thought Hesham was. A very tall 6'1" for an Egyptian man. He made good money and had a wonderful sense of humor. But more important than this was how special he made Shereen feel. He was so in love with her that he couldn't stand to be away from her for very long. When they were first dating, she found this particularly charming as he would surprise her by showing up unexpectedly and beg her to forego other plans to spend time with him. He was also very devoted to his Islamic faith and Shereen liked this because the Muslim religion emphasized the importance of family very strongly. Hesham was also a very sharp dresser and extremely handsome with olive skin like coffee with milk in it. Short black curly hair, a beautiful build. Thin but muscular, just Shereen's type. And his hands, Shereen loved his hands. They were large, masculine hands, with just a little bit of roughness. She didn't like those men with hands that felt like a woman's. Hands that when they held her, she always felt safe and protected. But now these strong hands were the very same ones that turned her eye blue and tender. It was an accident, but still. Accidents like that don't happen unless the environment for it is created. That kind of behavior and loss of control was unacceptable to Shereen. But did he really lose control at all, or was it a conscious decision that he made to act that way to try to intimidate her and keep her in line?
People talked at the wedding-at the one in Egypt. They had two receptions. One in Egypt where almost all of Hesham's family still lived and a good number of Shereen's extended family, and one in San Francisco where Shereen's immediate family and many of the couples' friends lived. People in Egypt said how lucky Shereen was to get such a good looking and intelligent man with her age. Twenty-six was bordering on old-maid status in comparison with most Egyptian girls who marry between eighteen and twenty-one. But she had her beauty going for her. A fair-skinned, blond haired Egyptian Muslim girl was a rarity and prized highly. She also had a beautiful face, was well-proportioned, and came from a good family. Still, she was lucky. Lucky to be getting married at all, and outright blessed to get a catch like Hesham.
She and Hesham both always liked the song "At Last" but Shereen felt as though it pointed to her age. She never mentioned this but tried to argue for a different song with Hesham. But in the end, he was adamant and won.
Shereen was thrilled when she found someone in America that was from Egypt. She just couldn't relate to American men. He was the perfect charming gentleman for the few months that they dated. He proposed to her on their fifth date and she accepted three months later. She was never able to meet his family until the wedding in Egypt. Meeting them raised slight concern in her mind as she began to see differences in their way of doing things. But she put her worries out of her mind, thinking Hesham had become different from them because of the years he had lived in America. And even if he did do things differently from her, she was sure they would find a way to compromise. They'd made it this far, hadn't they?
Although they both came from Egypt, Shereen was unaware of the different worlds within Egypt. She came from the upper crust society that had a strong European influence within it. Whereas Hesham came from the lower classes which often looked to Islamic law for justification of their patriarchal dominance. But Shereen was very unfamiliar with this other world. Of course she saw the lower classes in the streets of Cairo but she didn't know what went on inside of their homes. Even if she did know, it wouldn't have made a difference because Hesham was smart enough not to reveal his lower class roots. In America, being far from his home, it was easy for him to give the impression that he too was from upper crust society. He never had to lie, he was just vague. And Shereen was a trusting audience for his show. She was so blinded and enthralled by the fact that she had found a wonderful Egyptian man in America that she paid little attention to other aspects which she considered to be small details. His father conveniently was in the farming business, a business which involved all different classes from the lowest fellah to the wealthiest big landowner. Shereen never realized that her family and their customs were in a very small minority as far as Egyptian Muslim families go. The idea that a woman could have equal power in a household as the man was one that circulated mainly in the upper classes. The patriarchal rule was something that was widely accepted in the other less educated classes. So it was equally surprising for Shereen and Hesham when he imposed it and she resisted it after the wedding.
~~~~~~
At around 7:30, Shereen pulled into the driveway next to her parents' white Cadillac. She sat in her car for a few minutes just trying to breath-breath slowly so that she could be calm and figure out what she was going to say to her parents. She had talked to her mother many times before about the difficulties her and Hesham were having so it shouldn't be a huge surprise. She had explained to her mother how they came from two totally different schools of thought. How reasoning with him was a hopeless endeavor. How they saw things so completely differently that there was no way to meet in the middle and compromise. It was like they spoke different languages sometimes. But her mother always replied with "Make it work, Shereen." She would explain how all the basic qualities that a woman needed in a husband were there: "He is financially strong, a good business man, a good provider, responsible, reliable, he loves you. These are the basics that you need. The rest are details. You can make it work. It just takes time and effort. No marriage works easily." She had always made Shereen feel like if it wasn't working, it just meant that she wasn't being resourceful enough. She wasn't putting enough effort into making it work. But this time, Shereen felt like she had a valid claim, and the proof of it, too. He was becoming more and more of a controlling maniac. Her mother couldn't possibly turn her away or blame her for Hesham's violent temper, she imagined.
She walked up to the door and rang the doorbell. She waited for a about a minute, but no one came to the door. They must be home unless they went for a walk because their car is here, Shereen noted. Then she heard some people laughing, so she rang again. Still no one answered. Finally Shereen determined that the laughter was coming from the back yard, so she walked around to the side of the house and banged on the door of the wooden gate. In a few seconds, she heard her mother walking towards the gate still laughing. She opened the door and with some surprise said, "Shereen, what are you doing here?"
Shereen, with tears welling up in her eyes, made no response. She removed her sun glasses to reveal her swollen eye and collapsed into her mother's arms blubbering, "Oh, mom. I left Hesham."
Shereen moved to walk into the back yard, but her mother gently pressed her hand against Shereen's shoulder, "Wait," she hesitated, "We don't want to make a scene. We have guests. Why don't you go around to the front door and I'll let you in."
Shereen didn't move but stared at her mom in disappointment until she hurried her out the gate.
She met her mom at the front door where she took her into her bedroom and they sat down on the bed.
"O.K., Shereen I only have a few minutes, so quickly tell me what happened."
"Who's here Mom?"
"Your Aunt Aziza and Uncle Fareed."
"They're your guests. They're the reason you didn't want me to make a "scene." They're family, Mom. What's wrong with you?"
"Well, you know, I just though it might be difficult for you-"
"You mean difficult for you."
"I need to get back in a minute so are you going to tell me what happened?"
"Well we had a big fight and I was so mad that I resorted to my usual blasting of "You Don't Own Me" on the record player to vent my anger. Then I heard him screaming, "This is the last time!" and running into the living room. I heard the needle scrape the record and I ran into the room just as he was throwing the record and it hit me in the eye-"
"Oh, darling, so it was just a mistake. You drove all the way up here because of that?"
"No, not just because of that. He then took the record player and threw it out the window-"
"Oh, goodness."
"But I haven't even told you yet what the fight was about. That's the big thing."
"Well, I need to go attend to my guests, now, we'll have to discuss this later."
"But mom-"
"Well, what do you expect when you show up unannounced."
"Fine," Shereen huffed as she got up to follow her mother out.
"Where do you think your going?"
"To say hi to Aunt Aziza and Uncle Fareed."
"Oh really."
"Yes, really."
"And what are we going to say about that eye?"
"Excuse me?"
"Well, we can't tell them what really happened. Let's see-O.K., you were playing frisbee with Hesham when one of your friends walked by and called your name, distracting you just as he threw it and it hit you in the eye."
"Mom why does everything have to be a secret with you? I'm close with Aunt Aziza. What if I want to talk to her about what's going on?"
"Well that's simply not an option. So you either stay in here until they leave or you go along with my story."
Shereen acquiesced and allowed her mother to tell her ridiculous story. Not only did it keep the truth secret, but it also served as laughable amusement. Even her own father laughed as they poked fun at Shereen's clumsiness.
Later that evening Shereen sat down with her mother and told her about the fight she had had with Hesham. "He has a business trip this weekend and so I said that I was going to come and visit you since he would be away. He responded that I could not go. Of course I was appalled that he thought he had the right to tell me what to do and where to go, especially when I was just going to visit my parents. So I said exactly that. Who did he think he was that he could order me around? He said that he was my husband and by Muslim law I had to obey him. I asked him what his reason was and he said that he would need me to drive him to and from the airport and make sure there's a nice meal cooked upon his return and that there were just too many things that I needed to do around the house. Do you see how unreasonable he is?"
"Why don't you look at it in a positive way? He loves you so much that he wants you to be there when he leaves and when he comes home."
"That's not it at all, Mom. I've tried to explain this to you before. He's a control freak. He doesn't want me to have any sort of life outside of him, even if it's with my own family. He may have given reasons for his orders this time but most of the time he just says because I am your husband and you have to listen to me."
"So this is what sparked this huge fight? You wanting to come and visit me and him saying no?"
"Yes, but the fight wasn't just about this instance. It started with that but then it blew up into bigger issues about how he's always trying to control me and him saying that I'm not acting the way a wife is supposed to. He always says that I need to get 'a new attitude,' that I can't just stay the same as I was before because now I'm married."
"Well that is true, dear, a marriage takes compromise and work and you have to consider the other person and make changes accordingly."
"I know, Mom. But you're not hearing me. He's not talking about minor changes, he wants me to be his slave-a different person. And he's not talking about compromise from both ends, just obedience from me."
"Shereen, your upset. I understand how you feel but I really think that if you two put your heads together that you can find a way to get past this. Every marriage has its problems. If your father and I decided to end our marriage the first time we had a big fight-"
"But this isn't the first time, Mom."
"I know, but the point is still the same. Your father and I have had plenty of big fights just like every other couple, but that doesn't mean you end the marriage. How can you say that you think it won't work after only being married for two years? You're just figuring things out. And even ten years from now you'll still have big fights because new issues will come up as the years go by. The relationship is just going through growing pains and that will happen throughout the marriage. But you can't just give up every time you hit a tough spot. Make it work, Shereen. I know you can do it."
"I don't know, Mom. We just come from two different worlds. Whenever he loses his temper and becomes aggressive like this last time and starts throwing things, I tell him that I don't know where he gets off acting like that and that his kind of behavior was unacceptable in our household and that Dad never acted that way. But you know what he says? He says, "Abuki khewel." Can you believe the gall?
"You better not let your father here that."
"Of course not. But now do you see that our definition of masculine civility is what he calls being a pussy. Mom, don't you see. He's a fellah." Shereen's mother frowned at the use of the term. It was the word used to describe the lower classes in Egypt and the accompanying manners and lifestyle. She had tried to ignore the signs that suggested Hesham's status but now her daughter was throwing it in her face. "I can't change that about him. I didn't know that that was his upbringing until it was too late. We were already married and in love. I thought it wouldn't matter, especially that we live in America and he was making good money, here. But I didn't know what that background brings with it."
"Well there's lots of things that one doesn't know about one's partner at the time of marriage. Do you think I knew that your father would have six affairs?"
"No, but that's why you should have left him."
Shereen's mother glared at her sternly and warned, "Shereen."
"O.K. I'm sorry."
"Well I think we've talked enough tonight. Why don't you just relax this evening, sleep on it, and see how you feel in the morning."
"All right."
Shereen decided to watch some TV to get her mind off of things and just as she was flipping through the channels to find something to watch, her father called her from the other room saying that Hesham was on the phone. She spoke to him briefly. It was the usual after-fight conversation. He apologized, said that he loved her, promised he'd make it up to her and begged her to come home. She said she wasn't in the mood for this and ended the conversation.
~~~~~~
On the third day, Hesham showed up at Shereen's parents' house. He tried to get her to come home, but she still refused. He pleaded to at least take her out to dinner and she agreed. They went to a very expensive restaurant and Hesham, for once, did not skimp. He ordered expensive wine and several courses. As for Shereen, she had to admit that she actually did enjoy herself. They didn't really talk about their problems because they had already discussed every issue into the ground. He charmed her like he did in the early days of their relationship and she smiled at his flattery and laughed at his jokes. He offered his hand across the table for her to hold and she took it. When the bill came, he glanced at it and held it in his hand and asked, "So are you going to come home?"
"Hmmm, I don't know yet," she teased.
He teased back, "Because if you're not, we're splitting this. I'm not throwing down two bills for nothing."
"Well, I never," she scoffed in feigned defiance and then laughed. "I guess if it's going to cost me that much then I'll have to come home."
They drove home that evening and when Shereen arrived she found a new record player waiting for her, but not a new record, she noted mentally. He asked if she would dance with him and she said yes. He put on "At Last" and they began dancing. But then the record started skipping. Shereen remarked, "It must be a scratch on the record. I'll have to get a new one."
Copyright © 2002 by Zeina Halim