In The Bedroom

Daniel turned his attention back to the technical problem, even though he couldn't shake the feeling that his newest customer needed a completely different kind of help more urgently. Some personal assistance.

But that was none of his business. So he continued to crouch next to the router on the carpet, checking the connections and running several tests without getting any closer to the cause of the malfunction.

“Hmm? There's power. The software is up to date, the configuration is correct... but the signal isn't getting through,” he said to himself, watching the flashing indicator lights. “The line outside is fine, my colleagues have already checked that – but something is blocking the signal before it gets here. Next, I'll have to check the junction box.”

He tugged somewhat helplessly at the cables that disappeared behind the baseboard. Samira's forehead wrinkled slightly; she probably didn't even understand half of what he was trying to explain.

“Where... is what?” she asked uncertainly.

“The junction box. It's usually where the phone connection is,” he described, looking up at her. “In the wall, maybe in a corner or behind a cabinet. It looks like a power outlet with cables coming out of it, but it's not for electricity, it's for the phone, computer, and so on.”

Searching the room with his eyes, he noticed out of the corner of his eye how her posture changed—she tensed up and withdrew inward. Her mouth opened and closed several times without any intelligible words coming out.

“Excuse me? I didn't understand you,” Daniel pressed.

“In the bedroom?” she squeaked, her voice low and squeaky, as if the word were dangerous to her.

“I can well imagine that it's there. It's not unusual for these old apartments to have the connection installed there,” he said casually, without further addressing her obvious discomfort. Hoping to reassure her, he added, “It only takes a minute to check.”

She hesitated. He grew impatient.

“There's nothing more I can do here,” he interjected, “of course I can come back later when your husband is home. But I can't guarantee that we'll be able to arrange an appointment at short notice.”

Her husband's voice still rang in her ears, firm and stern: “Get that fixed, Samira. I need it when I get back.”

She became restless, torn between her duty to obey her husband and her ingrained modesty, which forbade her from being alone in a room with a man she didn't know. Especially not in her marital bedroom. In the end, her fear of the consequences if her husband returned and was dissatisfied to find that the problem had not been fixed won out. This would be worse than the merely uncomfortable feeling of going into a private room with a stranger. She nodded reluctantly.

“This way,” she said, barely audible. She led Daniel down a short hallway. The bedroom door was closed. Her hand paused for a moment over the handle before she pressed it down.

The room felt different from the rest of the apartment—somehow softer. More feminine. Cream-colored curtains. A low double bed with a neatly folded bedspread. A small nightstand with a Quran and a glass for water. The air smelled sweeter, cleaner. Daniel stepped in cautiously, feeling as if he had discovered a forbidden, enchanted world. He looked around thoughtfully.

“Ah, here it is,” he said, spotting the small beige outlet cover near the floor. He crouched down again and opened it with a screwdriver.

She was silent, but he could hear her breathing, which sounded a little faster and more agitated than before. It wasn't necessarily fear—more a feeling of unease because someone she didn't know was in this room, which should have been reserved for her and her husband.

“A corroded contact,” he muttered. "I'd actually have to replace the whole box. These old models aren't used anymore. But the new ones have a different cross-section. I'd have to pry open a section of the wall. It's going to be a big job.“

She held her breath. Although he didn't turn to look at her, he could still sense how deeply this news had shaken her.

”Is there nothing that can be done?“ Her voice sounded worried and shaky. Daniel thought for a moment.

”I don't know. Spare parts are no longer available. I'd have to check at the company to see if we happen to have something like that left. Until then... Wait a minute. I'll try something."

He sat down cross-legged, took apart the junction box, and worked on the contacts with fine sandpaper. Then he put it back together and reconnected the cables. When he was done, he stood up and dusted his hands off on his pants.

“That should do it,” he said, visibly pleased with himself. “Let's check the router again.”

“Yes,” she said quickly, glad to be back on the safer ground of the living room. Their eyes met briefly, and for the first time she looked at him openly. She said nothing. Then she blushed and quickly looked away.