Second Phone Call
From a public phone booth in the capital, in the enormous Ministries Complex building:
“Hello, Faris?”
“You’re in Dayra!”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“Doesn’t matter.”
“You left me waiting a long time.”
“I wanted to give you time to think.”
“When’s this crisis going to be over so you can come back?”
“I’m not coming back.”
“Be reasonable. Don’t cause a scandal.”
“I’m not afraid of scandals.”
“What are you afraid of?”
“Coming back.”
“All of our problems can be solved.”
“You won’t divorce me?”
“I want to meet.”
“No.”
“Wherever you want.”
“No.”
“I won’t touch you. I won’t force you to do anything. We’ll just talk.”
“No.”
“I can’t discuss my marital problems while you’re talking to me from a flower shop.”
“I can’t. It’s not possible.”
“I’m not going to divorce you over the phone.”
“Does that mean you’ll divorce me in person?”
“If I’m convinced that divorce is the solution.”
“I don’t want to see you. I can’t.”
“Then call from a private number. We can’t talk about anything this way. I’m very worried. I can’t sleep or work or tell anyone what is happening. You owe me this at least.”
“Fine.”
“I’ll wait for you.”