The Queue (13 page)

Ines had solid evidence to back up everything that Ehab had reported. Over afternoon tea, she confided in the woman with the short hair that she’d been shaken to discover she was under surveillance herself. She told the woman about her conversation with Shalaby, in which every syllable and every word had been recorded. Um Mabrouk confirmed the incident. Ehab produced the papers he’d kept, which included the whole conversation and many others. They had been stamped by the Booth and officially approved by the official, and he offered to show them to anyone who wanted to see them. With this discovery, and similar evidence that began to follow it, people stopped using phones, both their own and Um Mabrouk’s, except on rare occasions, and a wide-reaching boycott campaign gathered momentum. When Um Mabrouk announced that she was joining the campaign, her son removed the battery from her phone and took it back home. She rather liked the boycott, and was a staunch supporter. She was excited to join Ehab and his friends, and told her customers the part of the story that she herself was involved in, embellishing it with just a few tantalizing details.

People gradually discovered that the surveillance feature had spread beyond the queue and into other districts. No one knew whether it affected everyone, or just the free phone lines, or only those people whose conversations had been sent to the basement. Despite the public outcry, Violet Telecom continued to give out free phones, and a few days later published an
advertisement in
The Truth
promising its customers a superior new service, with details to be announced in an upcoming offer. The company also warned citizens against believing false information spread by its less fortunate competitors, information that only aimed to tarnish its reputation and to deprive vast segments of the population—particularly the poor—from its free services. Meanwhile, rumors spread that some people whose conversations had been recorded had disappeared; they’d been summoned to the basement and never returned. These rumors left a visceral tension in their wake; people in the queue exchanged names of the disappeared and the dates they’d vanished, distributing flyers with their pictures and pleas to return them unharmed. Even though no one from the queue was missing, Ines was so overwhelmed by the situation that her support for the boycott began to wane, even though she’d been one of its first champions. She grew increasingly timid and withdrawn, and stopped drinking tea with Um Mabrouk.

But the woman with the short hair urged the boycott campaign onward, undaunted by the obstacles ahead. The vast majority of the queue joined her, those who were particularly keen to help rally others from farther afield, and she even considered extending an invitation to the outlying districts. Yet despite the campaign’s growth, nothing in the papers seemed to indicate that Violet Telecom had been affected in the least. Several papers published full-page advertisements featuring its name and bright violet logo. Then an article appeared in
The Truth
, so large it took up nearly half the front page, which said that Mr. Zaky Abd el-Aal Hamed, CEO, was delighted to announce that Violet Telecom now served more than thirty percent of the population. This meant that it was now the most widely used phone company in the country, and by a
significant margin; the next most popular company served no more than five percent.

Yet while no newspapers or magazines covered the Violet Telecom boycott, their pages were filled with enthusiasm for other boycotts—all led by something called the Fatwa and Rationalizations Committee. The first boycott was against a candy factory that owned a well-known chain of stores in several districts. The Committee had discovered that this factory was producing candy made of sugar swirls, in which—in a certain light—one could make out the word “God.” The Committee released a statement calling upon people to boycott the factory, since allowing the name of God to be eaten and digested was the ultimate denigration of religion’s place in society and thus warranted a country-wide campaign.

Shalaby joined this boycott, too, after he recognized the factory’s name from some candy he’d brought along with a few other snacks from a small shop in his hometown. Pleading for God’s forgiveness and protection, he immediately destroyed the candy and burned the wrapper, as people around him cried out in praise of God’s greatness and commended his victory over the factory owner. The man in the
galabeya
had joined the boycott before him, and the two of them were joined by Um Mabrouk (who asked Abbas to write “Hope Factory Products Not Sold Here” on a cardboard sign, which she then put between two stones in front of the cookies), and the three of them were joined by Mrs. Alfat, who had finally appeared at the front of the queue.

Yehya insisted on crossing the vast distance to Mrs. Alfat himself. When he heard the news, Nagy tried to go in his place,
but Yehya wouldn’t let him, that he would meet with her himself, and he set off as soon as they knew it was definitely her. Ehab described her as a short woman in her fifties, of medium build, and with broad shoulders. She was wearing a thin veil, only one layer of fabric, and no makeup except a thick line of kohl around her eyes. He also said that she was wearing wide-legged trousers, a long gray jacket that came down to her knees, and, unlike most other women, sneakers.

Yehya had no trouble recognizing her. He found her standing at the front of the queue already, not taking part in any of the conversations around her but clearly listening attentively to all that was said. She seemed on edge, uneasy with the general atmosphere. Yehya stood there for a few minutes watching her from afar, and to him she seemed stern, despite how calm and beautiful she looked. What would compel someone like her to leave such a prominent position? What had prompted her to abandon her workplace and home to stand in the queue just like him? So many thoughts and possible explanations rushed through his mind, but none of them made sense. He tried to guess how she might respond to his surprise visit, but soon tired of his useless speculations and felt silly waiting there so aimlessly, so he drew a deep breath, let it echo in his injured side, and headed toward her.

“Good afternoon.”

“Hello … can I help you?”

“My name is Yehya Gad el-Rab Saeed. I was a patient at the hospital you worked at.”

“Ah, pleasure to meet you. Is there something I can do for you?”

“Well, Dr. Tarek wanted to get ahold of the X-ray he performed on me at the hospital, but you were on vacation, so—”

“An X-ray of what, exactly?” she asked, cutting him off.

“An X-ray of my pelvis.”

“And when was this?”

“June eighteenth.”

Yehya would have preferred not to have to mention anything that might put her on guard, and instead to have left it up to her memory.

“The day of the Disgraceful Events,” she said sharply. “Sir, I didn’t receive any paperwork or X-rays that day—not yours, nor of anyone else who was injured, nothing. Even the people who died were then transferred to Zephyr Hospital. I’m quite certain you know that.”

Yehya was surprised by her cutting response, which didn’t leave him much room to respond.

“But Dr. Tarek took an X-ray of me, ma’am, I saw it myself, and just the other day he told me you had it.”

“That’s simply not true. I would advise you to meet with him again.”

He thanked her and left. He didn’t have the energy to argue or make her repeat herself, or even question her response; it was as if he’d known what she would say from the start. The door Tarek had opened for him had just been slammed in his face.

Amani, Yehya, and Nagy were forced to put off their meeting for several days, as the events unfolding around them didn’t leave time for much else. Nagy had been busy going over the conversations he’d had lately, reviewing what he had said and how involved he had been in them, so that he wouldn’t be caught off-guard if something happened. Finally, they all
made time to have lunch at a restaurant across from the coffee shop.

Amani sat beside a large glass window, gazing down from the second floor onto the narrow street below, which seemed to have been cleaned of all shrapnel and debris recently. The restaurant hadn’t changed much since the last time she was here: the same scent of cheap detergent, the dark-green chairs, the small tiles that never reclaimed their true whiteness, the clay pots with edges eroding from how often the plants were watered; even the number of customers seemed the same. Amani had chosen her usual table. Twice she waved away the waiter, waiting for Nagy and Yehya, who were running late, and passed the time by watching people walking briskly below, imagining the two of them meandering along as usual.

It took a long time for Yehya to walk up the stairs, gripping the handrails for support and leaning his weight on Nagy’s shoulder. He never imagined that he would struggle up a flight of stairs like this, especially while still young. The pain peaked on the last step, and he stood paralyzed for a moment. Then finally he let go of Nagy and the railing and dropped his hands to his sides. He smiled, struggling to breathe normally, and headed to where he knew Amani would be sitting. He stood behind her chair and placed his hands on her shoulders, burying his lips in her hair for a long kiss. The waiter, having run out of patience, was back at their table for the third time as soon as they took their seats. Amani was about to tell him off, but Nagy, who had noticed the telltale way she was pursing her lips, that ominous sign that meant she was ready for a fight, intervened. He quickly ordered some eggplant,
fuul
beans, and fried eggs, while Yehya sat holding Amani’s hand and catching his breath.

Their conversation was dominated by recent developments; Yehya and Nagy had collected a bounty of intriguing news from around the queue, and took turns telling the stories. The woman with the short hair had earned even more animosity from the man in the
galabeya;
he disapproved of her stances on many issues, and it riled him so much that he wanted to banish her from the whole district. Ines had matter-of-factly declared that she wasn’t convinced by the Violet Telecom boycott without offering a reason, though she was often seen crying now that the rumors of the disappeared had grown more grave.

The man in the
galabeya
had begun to appear beside her at all hours, and people saw him talking to her at length, sometimes even shouting. Sometimes she cried harder when he was around, and other times her tears abated, but no one heard exactly what he said.

Amani had no news from the office, just that Um Mabrouk was often absent. Nagy explained that even though she was doing good business in the queue, he imagined she would return to honor her responsibilities at the office—particularly given the current situation. She had recently gotten rid of her phone, and her revenue had dropped sharply.

They rapidly exchanged news, falling silent for just a moment here or there and then picking up the conversation again, while the waiter punished them for their delay in ordering by delaying their food in turn.

Yehya had avoided revealing what had happened between him and Mrs. Alfat, but there was no way to avoid it when the other two asked him straight out if he was hiding something. Amani didn’t believe the head nurse, and called her a snake, while Nagy accused Tarek of lying. Yehya didn’t side with either of them, but flat-out refused the suggestion that they go
back and face Tarek in the hospital again. If Alfat or Tarek had any intention of giving him the X-ray, they would’ve done so, but they both denied they had it, and Yehya had no way to prove it had ever even existed. Confronting them about its disappearance might just make things worse. The levity with which they had begun the afternoon dissipated, and each of them turned to the plates of food that had arrived, isolated in their individual thoughts.

After slowly finishing her food, Amani solemnly announced that she’d go to Zephyr Hospital early the next morning. Yehya tried to dissuade her, but she pointedly ended the discussion. She had delayed it long enough, she said, and she didn’t need anyone to discourage her now. She was even more worried now that Yehya had confirmed that the X-ray was lost, and that was enough to convince her that she had to go. She could barely keep herself in her chair; she rocked back and forth and fidgeted in her seat, wrung her hands, and fiddled with her hair. If the hospital staff hadn’t already left for the day, she would have gone over there right then.

Silence settled over them as Yehya sank deeper into his turbulent thoughts. He knew there was no other way forward, but he’d been to Zephyr Hospital once in his life and it had been enough; he knew how dangerous it would be for Amani to go on her own, particularly at a time like this. Things had become increasingly restrictive, and her visit might draw more attention to him, resulting in his X-ray vanishing from that hospital as well. His options flickered and faded in front of him, he was losing one after another. He rested his elbows on the table and sank his forehead into his palms. The mention of Zephyr Hospital reminded him of the doctor in military uniform who’d asked about him at the office a while back.
Amani didn’t have any more information than she’d written in her letter; the man had arrived mysteriously and was gone within minutes. He hadn’t left a business card or phone number, nothing but the name of the place where he worked, which was now engraved in her mind.

Nagy tried to break the silence casually and mentioned that Ehab had offered to go with Amani—actually, he’d insisted on it. Like Yehya, he was cautious around Amani’s harsh temper that was quick to flare up, and he expected her to be annoyed by Ehab’s insistence, afraid he might jeopardize the whole plan. But although she remained tense, she didn’t get angry. She was less concerned with Ehab and more afraid of anything that might ruin this opportunity. She had become Yehya’s only hope when all other ways forward were blocked. She knew that their success depended on her making her visit to the hospital seem routine and innocent, just an ordinary request. She had to act in a way that would make asking the hospital official for an X-ray seem entirely unimportant, not alarming at all, the kind of request that plenty of people had made before her without any complication.