The announcement was delivered to the newspaper headquarters where Ehab worked, and he immediately called Nagy to tell him. Yehya headed straight for Um Mabrouk in shock, and dialed Tarek’s number again and again. If the message were true, as everyone said, it meant he couldn’t have an X-ray performed anywhere anymore, not even if he called in favors or tried to get one done under the table. When Tarek finally picked up, he didn’t reveal anything on the phone, but he seemed more interested in Yehya than usual. He asked in detail about Yehya’s movements, whether the pain was any less intense, if it was a stabbing pain or a throbbing pain. He asked how often Yehya urinated and what color it was, and he also asked about Amani. But Tarek’s attention was useless to Yehya, who inferred just one thing: the head nurse still hadn’t returned. She must have the X-rays, and Tarek was hiding the reason why she had left.
Um Mabrouk offered to waive the fee for his call and turned down Yehya’s money out of sympathy for his injury. “The world is against you, you want me against you, too? Ya ibni, things are bad enough as it is.” He left her, feeling like his head was about to explode. His memories rushed back to him and then faded away, leaving him in a tangle of conflicting emotions. He was filled with despair and a desire to hide away, but at the same time was infused with a yearning to survive, to start life anew and experience again every moment of sadness and joy and absurdity. He wasn’t in the mood to argue with Um Mabrouk, but he also knew she didn’t pay for the calls she made. Um Mabrouk had won a phone line and endless credit from Violet Telecom, just like so many others had.
Yehya had been on edge as he listened to Tarek’s voice on the other end of the line. As soon as he ended the call he excused himself and left the queue, not heading anywhere in particular. He wandered around, taking in the whole scene from a distance. He knew he needed to see Tarek in private.
He returned a few hours later, cheerfully raising his fingers in a V when he saw Nagy. With a few niceties and a little flirting, he’d won Sabah over and learned that the head nurse had taken a long leave without pay. She’d turned in her notice, gathered her things, and gone to take care of some personal matters, staunchly refusing to discuss this sudden decision with anyone in the hospital. She’d been extremely secretive, concealing her decision until the day she left, and no one had been able to find out what had come over her, despite numerous attempts by her close friends and colleagues. Sabah also told him that she’d uncovered part of the secret herself. She’d learned that the hospital was considering hiring a new head nurse while the director thoroughly investigated the situation, which was this: a week ago, or perhaps more, the head nurse had joined the queue for the Gate.
MRS. ALFAT
Things soon returned to normal in the queue, and daily life picked up where it had left off. It was a charge led by Um Mabrouk, who got rid of her old cheap cups and bought nicer glass ones in celebration of the Riffraff’s departure. She wiped her palms and the backs of her hands on her dress, and handed the man in the galabeya a cup of anise tea with two tea bags instead of just one, adding, “Lord grant you good health.” He muttered a few words as he took the first sip, oblivious to her smile, but she persisted. “Don’t you have a prayer, or something to say for heath and better days ahead, ya Hag?” she asked. He didn’t indicate whether he had heard her, or if he had, whether he would respond, and didn’t lift his gaze from the cup. Her smile faltered and she backed off, embarrassed, saying, “Ah, maybe you didn’t hear me … don’t worry, take your time.” He finished the last drop of anise tea, quickly glanced at her from the corner of his eye, and wiped his beard, staring at the simple setup around her. He took out his prayer beads and advised her, while thumbing one golden bead after another, to come to the lessons he gave at the front of the queue. Many of the righteous attended these weekly lessons, and some even came from beyond the queue. “Early next week,” he said. “It would do you good to come, by the will of God Almighty.”
Yehya began his search for the head nurse, but the queue was so vast that he couldn’t easily scan the crowds for her. He managed to search a small area, but it was just a drop in a bucket, while the queue was fathoms deep. He reasoned that he shouldn’t limit his search to the end of the queue; he didn’t think she would feel bound to the order of arrival and stay at the end. Besides, he knew that people often and easily switched places — he himself had skipped ahead of so many, and some people who arrived just a few weeks ago were now at the front, each thanks to his or her own methods or bargaining abilities. So he and Nagy agreed to divide the queue between them, setting forth from the same point and walking in opposite directions.
He had to stop and ask about her out loud every few feet; there was no other way to go about it. The only picture they had of her was the one in Nagy’s mind — the last time he’d been to the hospital, Sabah had led him to the nurses’ office and proudly pointed to a large frame filled with photographs of the doctors, nurses, and other hospital staff. She’d stepped close to the frame, stuck her finger on the neck of a middle-aged woman, and pointed her out: “Mrs. Alfat, the head nurse, and me standing next to her.” The people in the queue weren’t surprised by Yehya’s question; they were used to people asking for one another, and to hearing helpful strangers pointing them in the right direction. Sometimes photographs were distributed, of adults and children alike, lost amid the crowds of the queue. It happened at mealtimes especially, when news and rumors dwindled, the general sense of apprehension faded, and everyone’s attention turned to the person sharing food with them. Yehya met two nurses in his search, a technician and an eye doctor with her younger sister, but neither of them was Mrs. Alfat, and not a single person claimed to know her. Um Mabrouk volunteered to ask her customers, and instructed them to ask others in turn, explaining, “The head nurse is a real big shot, a distant relative of Yehya’s.”
Yehya and Nagy met back at their starting point having had no success. They were exhausted and convinced it would be impossible to keep searching without a thread to grasp at. At this rate, it would take nearly two months. They sat down to brainstorm a way to save time; they’d lost so much already. Nagy suggested that they ask for Ehab’s help, but Yehya rejected the idea outright. He wanted to keep the matter within the tightest circle possible. But then he remembered that this irksome journalist, who had offered them his friendship from the start, by pestering him relentlessly, had already learned a great deal about him. It was information that Nagy had disclosed with the best of intentions, but it meant that his situation was no longer a secret. Ehab already knew everything. And despite Yehya’s reservations, he couldn’t deny that Ehab and his fellow journalists had proven methods, when it came to investigating, that might help lead them to their goaclass="underline" the whereabouts of the head nurse.