The Beginning and the End Read Online Free PDF

sent to school later in years than other boys. Soon it had become evident that he revolted against school life. He ran away frequently from school; year after year he failedin his examinations; finally he left school when he was only in his junior year. His relations with his father, strained by rows and quarrels, finally degenerated into genuine enmity. Sometimes, his father would kick him out of the house, leaving him to roam the streets for days; he came back home after associating with delinquents and plunging deep into sin and addiction, though he was just in his teens. When his father despaired of reforming him, he sent him to work in a grocery. There he remained for a month, until, following a quarrel in which the grocery was almost wrecked, he was fired. He worked for an automobile manufacturer, and was fired again after another quarrel. He became indifferent to his father’s anger and his mother’s firmness; but he imposed himself upon them, accepting their indignation either lightly and playfully or quarrelsomely. He never left home, nor did he search seriously for a job. He seemed to have no consideration whatsoever for the future, persisting in his recklessness until he was suddenly confronted with his father’s death. He knew how serious the situation was, for he alone knew what his father’s salary was, and he made a calculation of his approximate pension. He quite understood what his mother meant when she asked, “What about you, Hassan?”
Well,
he thought,
you say that God never forgets His creatures, and I am one of these creatures. Let’s see how He remembers us! Why did He take away our father? Why should He manifest His wisdom at the expense of victims like us?
    Yet in his courteous, compassionate smile at his mother, there was a sense of responsibility. “I understand everything,” he said.
    “What’s the use of mere understanding?” Samira replied irritably.
    “Something has to be done.”
    “This is what we often hear from you.” She was vexed.
    “Everything is changed now.”
    “Isn’t there any hope that you will change, too?”
    “A man of my type will never get lost in this life,” he retorted. “I can manage and hack my way through. There are lots of opportunities, and I have countless weapons in my hands. Listen, Mother, all I ask of you is shelter and some morsels of bread.”
    That had always been his method! He started as though he were yielding, and ended by making fresh demands. A shelter and some morsels of bread! What else was there? She eyed him resentfully. “This is no time for joking,” she said.
    “But who’s joking?” he asked.
    “We need someone to feed us; how, then, can we afford your food? Why do you force me to be blunt with you?”
    “It’s only for a while, till things get better,” he said with a faint smile. “You won’t find me a burden. Or would you like to kick me out? I shall do my best to earn my living. But suppose it takes me several days to find a job, would it make you happy to see me die of hunger? Anyway, I’ll share your loaf until I find a job.”
    She sighed in despair. She was encountering a real problem and did not know what to do about it. The worst that she dreaded was that he would persist in a life of idleness, laziness, and wandering, especially once the effect of his father’s death upon his feelings diminished.
    “I hope you’ll earnestly and sincerely look for a job,” she said beseechingly.
    He said, quite sincerely, “I promise you. I swear it on my father’s grave.”
    His oath reawakened their sorrow and his mention of their father’s grave moved them deeply. Nefisa burst into tears and Hassanein’s heart sank, while Hussein eyed Hassan with a puzzled look of reproof. Their mother kept silent, feeling her deep wound. But even then she did not forget that she had not finished what she wanted to say. She kept turning her red and swollen eyes toward her children.
    “Nefisa is good at sewing,” she said. “Out