The Queue (20 page)

The document contained more information than it had when Tarek had first begun to examine Yehya’s file. It included a detailed description of his movements, a chart of his acquaintances and friends, and maps of places he frequented. The introduction alone was practically an entire report in itself, which covered his whole life history, from his birth to when he first attended school and up to his work at the company. Tarek examined the document fervently, realizing that he was remarkably similar to Yehya in many regards. An only child born to a middle-class family, with a father who worked in the public sector and a mother who stayed at home; they had both gone to private elementary school, then transferred to public school because of rising tuition fees, and uneventfully graduated from high school with good grades.

Yehya had occasionally played in a small sports club during those days, though without remarkable success except in volleyball, where the coach had named him a star player, but he quit the team when he entered university. The document stated that Yehya hadn’t been involved in any political activity during his studies in the commerce department. But Tarek didn’t understand how that could be true, since it also said that Yehya had often been seen in the company of several unruly and rebellious students. Yehya joined a theater group at university, just as Tarek had done during his own studies. Yehya published several attempts at poetry in university journals, which is how he met his girlfriend, Amani Sayed Ibra
him, who was covered extensively in the following paragraph. He graduated with decent grades, completed his service in the Deterrence Force, and then worked as a sales representative for a reputable company in District 4. The company sold cleaning products, and Yehya lived by himself in a small apartment near his family in District 9. He’d never gone to the Gate or the Booth for a permit or certificate before, and there was no Certificate of True Citizenship in his Personnel File. At the end of the paragraph was a note that made Tarek pause every time:

Did the lack of a Certificate imply that Yehya had never engaged in any oppositional activities, and therefore hadn’t been required to obtain one? Or, was it the reverse—did it mean that Yehya really was a dissident, and thus was denied the Certificate when he needed it? No matter how many times he’d reread the file, Tarek still didn’t know what to make of this line. Perhaps, he thought now, the Certificate-granting department had somehow overlooked Yehya’s activities or his file, despite its apparent omnipotence. After all, things like that sometimes happened at the hospital.

The chart of friends and acquaintances was followed by two large paragraphs and a third shorter one. The first was about Amani Sayed Ibrahim. Thirty-seven years old, she was unmarried and lived in District 6 by herself. Her father had
died several years earlier, and her brothers lived in the outlying districts. She graduated from law school with honors and appeared to have met Yehya during her time at university. They had grown closer during those years, and worked at the same company after graduation; she took a position in the telephone sales department and had never put her law degree to use. Tarek learned from the report that she was in constant contact with Yehya, she accompanied him nearly everywhere except to the Gate. He also read that she was a prime factor in his stubbornness about the bullet; she supported his decision to stand in the queue and prevented him from undergoing surgery. She had never submitted an application for a permit or certificate from the Gate, either.

The second paragraph concerned an individual named Nagy Saad. It said that he was the patient’s closest friend; they’d been in the same class in school. He’d graduated with a philosophy degree, second in his class, and was a former university lecturer, though currently unemployed. Tarek figured that this was the man who’d come to the hospital with Yehya and Amani but didn’t join them in his office. The paragraph mentioned that he had been detained by the Deterrence Force during his second year at university, due to acts in violation of the university social order, in which he had helped to write instigative pamphlets and distribute them to other students.

His appointment as a lecturer in the philosophy department was approved so that he could remain under the security forces’ supervision, and he persisted with his actions in violation of the educational process, before resigning as a result of his inappropriate and aberrant ideas. The students
complained about them, and he was frequently advised to keep himself in line. When the dean of the university told him he needed to supply a Certificate of True Citizenship, he’d arrived with a resignation letter instead and thrown it in the man’s face. The dean had later submitted a complaint to the Booth accusing Nagy of contempt for him and for the Gate. Nagy was detained a second time, in the home of the patient, Yehya Gad el-Rab Saeed, for possession of offensive papers that he was on his way to distribute. This time he confessed to the crime. He claimed that Yehya was unaware of his intentions, that he’d only coincidentally stopped by Yehya’s house, and was released shortly afterward. But his request for a Certificate of True Citizenship was refused by the Gate when he applied for a job at a news agency. Tarek learned that Nagy rarely left Yehya’s side; unemployed and unable to find another job, he seemed to spend nearly all his time with him.

The third paragraph was about Ehab, but it didn’t contain much information. The reader was referred to another file, a much older one in the basement under the name “Ehab Ahmed Salem,” and the reference number was clearly specified. The only significant detail in the paragraph was that Ehab had recently sent his paperwork to the Booth, in application for a job advertised by the communications department.

The next paragraph included a detailed description of Yehya’s movements from the moment he fled Zephyr Hospital to the day he had arrived at the queue. It seemed he’d been given special attention; the observer missed nothing, even details that seemed inconsequential. It stated that he went to Amani’s house the day he turned thirty-nine, and one of the
paragraphs included a brief note, also mentioned in the introduction, about the letter she had sent him in the queue via Um Mabrouk. Yehya’s brief encounter with an eye doctor was mentioned in passing, too. She had advised him to go to the Booth to get a Certificate of True Citizenship, which was necessary in order to obtain a permit. They walked there together, because she needed the official’s approval on an eye exam that her sister had undergone before the Gate would accept it.

Tarek found these last few lines confusing, and he asked a colleague about protocol for eye examinations. He was told that vision tests needed to be approved by the Booth, and that five percent of the results were determined by the official. He usually added the full five percent to the patient’s score, unless he happened to be annoyed that day. Yehya’s meetings with Mrs. Alfat, the head nurse, were observed and recorded in detail, especially their second meeting. It said that Yehya had asked her about her work at the hospital, and whether each nurse had her own specialization. He appeared to be satisfied by her answers, and then he asked her straight out if she would help him remove the bullet, and offered her a considerable sum of money if she would do the surgery herself. He said he would pay her as soon as it was finished, as long as she gave him the bullet. The following sentence said that he showed her a booklet of legal statements exempting her from criminal and medical liability, leaving all responsibility with him if he came to any harm. After Yehya’s offer there was a blank space on the page, and Tarek guessed it was reserved for Mrs. Alfat’s response. Nothing in the paragraph indicated whether she had accepted or rejected his offer.

He thought about it all, suddenly surprised, as if he were discovering it for the first time. He’d opened the file dozens of times, and had never let it out of his sight for long, but he still didn’t have the slightest idea who was recording this information. The strangest part was that until now, Tarek had never truly wondered exactly who was updating the file, or how. He’d spent months among the pages, and every day there was an addition. Whoever it was, they updated it so meticulously, monitoring everything day after day, with dates and sometimes even times. Perhaps deep within himself, he was content watching Yehya from afar, somehow grateful for it all, afraid that if he dug too deep the writing would cease.

In addition to everything else in Document No. 6, Yehya’s medical condition was also documented, and reading it, Tarek realized that Yehya’s health was slowly deteriorating. There was no chance that his condition would stabilize, as he’d hoped it might. Yehya was urinating less frequently, only passing a few drops of liquid each time, which were pinkish and purulent. He often purchased large quantities of heavy-duty painkillers from nearby pharmacies, and his ability to walk and sit had clearly declined. Tarek nearly dropped the file in alarm when he read Yehya’s latest symptoms. He stood up and called Amani, desperately hoping that they weren’t true and that she would say something to assuage his guilt. But Amani didn’t pick up. Maybe she was ignoring him because he’d abandoned them, or it was possible that something had happened to her. He felt as if his own mental state was declining, too; he turned the details over in his mind in their full absurdity, unable to disentangle them from his
own emotions. If only he’d just done the surgery before he’d found out that he needed a permit. Even if they had investigated him and summoned him to the Gate, he might have looked like an ignorant fool, swearing he hadn’t known about the law, but he wouldn’t have been forced to lie. Yet now he did know: he couldn’t pretend otherwise, and couldn’t bring himself to lie.