Hamida herself had never before had such an emotional experience. For this one brief period in her life, she brimmed with emotion and affection, feeling that her life was forever bound to his.
That night Abbas visited Hamida's mother to say farewell. Then he went to the cafe, accompanied by his friend Hussain Kirsha, to have their last coffee together before departure. Hussain was happy and triumphant with the success of his suggestion, and he said to Abbas, his voice somewhat challenging, "Say goodbye from now on to this wretched alley life. Now start to enjoy a real life."
Abbas smiled silently. He had not told his friend of his agony at leaving both the alley and the girl whom he loved so dearly. He sat between his two friends and tried to suppress his sadness, saying goodbye to well-wishers and enjoying their kind words.
Radwan Hussainy too had blessed him and said a long prayer for him. He also advised him, "Save what you can from your wages after buying the necessities. Don't be extravagant and keep away from wine and pork. Never forget that you come from the alley, and it's here you will return."
Dr. Booshy said to him, laughing, "If God wills, you will return here a rich man, and when you do, we'll have to extract those rotten teeth of yours and give you a nice set of gold ones appropriate to your new position."
Abbas smiled his gratitude to the "doctor." It was he who had acted as ambassador to Hamida's mother, and it was he who had bought his shop fittings at a price that provided the money for his journey. Uncle Kamil sat silently listening, his heart heavy with his friend's impending departure. He dreaded the loneliness which would set in the next day, when the friend whom he loved, and with whom he had shared so many long years of his life, would be gone. Every time anyone shook his friend's hand or said how sorry he was that he was leaving, Uncle Kamil's eyes filled with tears, so that everyone around him laughed.
Sheikh Darwish recited the holy "Throne Verse" from the Qur'an in blessing and commented, "You have now become a volunteer in the British Army, and if you prove yourself a hero, then it's not unlikely that the King of England will carve you out a little kingdom and appoint you ruler in his place. The title for this in English is 'Viceroy' and it is spelled v-i-c-e-r-o-y."
Early next morning Abbas left his house carrying his clothes tied in a bundle. The air was cold and moist and the only people in the alley yet awake were the bakeress and Sanker, the cafe waiter. Abbas lifted his head toward the sacred window and saw it was closed tight. He stared at it with such a fierce longing that the dew on its shutters almost seemed to evaporate.
He continued slowly, lost in thought, until he reached the door of his shop. Abbas stood looking at it sadly as his gaze rested on a notice in large letters: "For Rent." His chest tightened and his eyes flooded with tears.
He increased his pace, as though fleeing from his emotions. And when he reached the end of the quarter, he felt as though his heart wanted to pound its way out of his body and return to the alley.
14
It was Hussain Kirsha who persuaded Abbas to serve with the British Army, and so the young man had gone to Tell el-Kebir, leaving no trace of himself in the alley. Why, even his shop had been taken over by an old barber. Hussain now found himself completely unsettled and full of hostility for the alley and its inhabitants. For a long time he had expressed his disgust for the alley and tried to plan a new life for himself. However, he had never clearly conceived a course of action and consequently had never made a firm resolution to achieve his dreams. Now that the barber was gone, he found himself filled with a desperate determination to do something. It seemed insupportable to him that Abbas should have escaped from the filthy alley and that he should have remained.
Finally he decided to alter his life no matter what it cost him. One day, with his usual crude bluntness, he said to his mother, "Listen to me. I have made a firm decision. I can't stand this life anymore and I see no reason why I should!"
His mother was used to his rudeness and his customary curses about the alley and its inhabitants. She considered him (as she did his father) to be utterly stupid, and never took his silly ravings seriously. So she made no reply and merely muttered to herself, "O God, please spare me this dreadful life!"
Hussain, however, his small eyes flashing and his near-black face becoming slightly paler in his anger, continued: "I can't bear this life anymore and after today I am not going to!"
She was not a woman noted for patience. As she shouted at him, her voice clearly betrayed what Hussain had inherited from her. "What's wrong with you? What's wrong with you, you son of a villain?"
The young man answered disdainfully, "I must get away from this alley."
"Have you gone mad, you son of a lunatic?" she shouted, staring at him in fury.
Hussain folded his arms nonchalantly and replied, "No, I have my senses back after a long period of lunacy. Now listen to what I say and believe me, I am not talking just for the sake of it. I mean every word. I have tied my clothes into a bundle and there's nothing left but to say goodbye. It's a filthy house, the alley stinks, and the people here are all cattle!"
She gazed at him searchingly, trying to read his eyes. His evident determination made her frantic and she screamed, "What are you saying?"
"It's a filthy house, the alley stinks, and the people here are cattle," he repeated, as though talking to himself.
She bowed sarcastically and said, "Welcome to you, honored sir! Welcome to the son of Kirsha Pasha!"
"Kirsha Coal Tar! Kirsha, the laughingstock! Ugh. Ugh. Don't you realize everyone has smelled out the scandal now? Everywhere I go people joke and sneer at me. They say, 'His sister ran away with someone and now his father is going to run away with someone else!'"
He stamped his foot on the floor so hard that the window glass rattled violently. He screamed in a rage, "What's forcing me to put up with this life? I'm going off to get my clothes and I'm never coming back."
His mother struck her breast with her hand and commented, "You really have gone out of your mind. The hashish addict has passed his madness on to you! I will go and call him to bring you back to your senses."
Hussain shouted contemptuously, "Go on, then, call him! Call my father; call our Lord Hussain himself! I am going… going…"
Sensing his obstinate determination, his mother went to his bedroom and saw a bundle of clothes, just as he had said. Now she was convinced and, full of despair, decided to call her husband, no matter what the consequences. Hussain, her son, was the only comfort she had left in life and she never expected that he would desert her. She had hoped he would always remain at home, even after he married, whenever that might be. Unable to overcome her despondency, she set off in search of Kirsha, shouting and lamenting her bad luck. "Why should anyone envy us? In spite of our great misfortunes! In spite of our disgraces! In spite of our misery!"
After a little while Kirsha appeared, grinding his teeth with anger. "What do you want, a new scandal?" he roared at her. "Have you seen me serving tea to another new customer?"
Thrashing her hands in the air, she answered, "It's about your son's disgraceful conduct! Catch him before he goes and leaves us. He is fed up with us!"
Kirsha brought the palms of his hands together violently and, shaking his head in anger and disgust, roared, "You want me to leave my work just for that? You want me to climb a hundred stairs just for that? Oh, you miserable pair, why on earth should the government punish anyone who kills off people like you?"