The girl gently grabbed my right side and attempted to roll me onto my left, thereby to liberate part of the blanket underneath me. When she did this, however, she found that I had gripped the blanket, so that it moved along side of me. Without any verbal response, she lowered me back onto my back and loosened my grasp. She was strong, and I was weak from my inactivity and malnutrition, so this was a simple task for her. So instead I caught each of her wrists in my hands and held onto them as tight as I could, knowing that it would be slightly more difficult for her to loose her own arms.
Where before Nidath might have assumed my non-compliance was merely coincidental, now I had shown clear, intentional resistance. She had taken an action, and I had done what I could to prevent that action. Her eyes grew in surprise, as she had thought me a totally passive creature, incapable of any authority over what happened to me. Indeed, this is how I had behaved over the last several days, but at precisely the right time, when prompted in precisely the right way, I had taken action. I took a moment to marvel at what I had done, but for no longer, as the woman before began to press her case.
“Come, Fe’n.” She sounded impatient. “It is time for your hygiene, just as my father had always done. I shall wash you now so that you must not remain in filth.” She pulled her arms free and began to tug at the blanket.
I had no intention of allowing this to happen. It had been awful enough that Etiar had taken to this distasteful task. Now here was a beautiful young woman—a stranger at that!—who wanted to peel back the blanket until my naked flesh, there to be faced with the filth that my body had exiled. I knew in an instant, although I had little been trained, that it was wrong for so lovely a creature to treat with such horrid a substance, and for so female a person to look upon so naked a man. I would not permit her. I would find all the strength in my entire body to stop it.
But no sooner had I resolved this than she, in one quick motion, tugged the blanket from underneath me and rolled me off of it. As fast as my eye had blinked, the soiled blanket was in her hands and I was laying with my face to the bed and my buttocks to the sky.
I knew at this moment that I had lost. There was no way to make it right, for any method of retrieving my cover would require exposing myself further. Indeed, I could not even resist her now, as this would require seeing her face to know where to fight her with my hands, and I could not bear to look upon her now. Instead, I remained there on the bed, burying my face into the pillow as I attempted to think about the violence men now faced in the streets, trying to exist as far from my pallid, idle and now-violated body as I possibly could.
I succeeded in removing myself from my body, such that I do not recall her rotating my body and wiping down my front side. All I know is that she did it, for when she produced a clean blanket in which to wrap me up, I discovered that I was clean entirely. After she covered me once again, I blinked long and slowly, as if to erase the entire incident from reality. This effort was, of course, unsuccessful, and when I faced the beautiful Nidath once again, shame filled my chest at knowing what had just happened.
I am sure that Nidath had sensed the tension that had just been born between us, and rather than let it root itself deeply, she quickly pressed on with her next item of business. “Fe’n, I have a question for you,” she began. Then she paused, as if waiting for me to urge her forward. I did no such thing, so she continued on her own. “Which is your favorite season?”
The time had come for simple things, but I refused outright to consider the question. No, no more simple things. Nidath could not produce any simple things for me, because my mind was too occupied with complicated feelings, like guilt, shame, fear and despair. Today I could not find any simple things, no matter how much I needed them.
It was at that time that I realized, for this first time, I could not recall all of Etiar’s simple things by will. There was the house on Tekurr Road, the sinedratha on the University Chapel, the trees on the hills surrounding Kapabaj, the grey woolen cap and the spinach of course, but beyond this point my mind went blank. No matter how I tried, I could recall nothing but these five things, despite knowing that there were at least a dozen in total. Once I thought of the spinach leaves, I would invariably begin thinking of Etiar and how much I longed for him to return, how much more comfort I had felt with him.
Nidath sat with me for a moment, looking at me for my answer. Then, as if suddenly remembering instruction from her father, she turned her head abruptly to the west, where the wall on my right awaited her gaze. Then she continued to wait for another two minutes or so before standing up. “Thank you, Fe’n,” she whispered. “Be well, and I shall see you tomorrow.” She mercifully forgot to pat my leg just above the right knee, as Etiar had always done. I let out a deep sigh as she left the room, feeling relief that it was over for the day, and wondering how I could avoid this horrible new occurrence in the future.
The lady had done exactly as she had been instructed, and although she had demonstrated slightly less patience than her father, she had still behaved admirably, and I had little reason to be angry with her. She had cared for me and asked nothing in return, and indeed, I had given her absolutely nothing. I felt pity for Nidath, as she did not deserve my chore, and she would meet very little happiness for it. Yet the thought of her filled me with dread, as I knew that she would return daily, and inadvertently instill the selfsame guilt and shame in my heart. That night, images of violence were a welcome addition to my thoughts, as they left little room for review of what had happened that day. That night, for the first time since I had parted with P’att, I heard a few rebels in the street shout into the city. I believe that I faintly heard a “yahram alu” penetrate my window, but as always, I cannot be sure what is true and what I have created within the deep realms of my brain.
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