One day Uncle Kamil said, trying to humor him, "Why don't you let me make you a special dish of sweets, which, with God's grace, will restore your health."
But Salim Alwan became angry and exploded, "Keep away from me, you devil! Have you gone mad, you blind fool? It's animals like you whose insides stay healthy until the day of rest."
After this, Uncle Kamil had nothing more to do with him.
As for his wife, she was an easy target for his outbursts and hatred, and he still attributed his ill health to her jealousy. One time he rebuked her by shouting, "You've had your vicious revenge on my health. You've seen me crushed before your eyes. Now enjoy your peace, you viper."
His hostility toward her increased, and eventually he wondered if she had suspected his plans to marry Hamida. He knew there were many eyes watching for this sort of thing, and no shortage of ready tongues to tell the interested party. If she did suspect something, wasn't it possible that she had put a curse on him that ruined his health? His irrational state only convinced him that he was right. He planned a course of revenge on her. Thus he was rude to her and reviled and insulted her as often as possible. However, she met all his cruelty with polite and patient submissiveness. He yearned to reduce her long-suffering silence to tears. On one occasion he told her directly, "I'm tired of living with you, and there's no reason why I should hide the fact that I'm planning to get married. I'm going to try my luck once more."
She believed him, and her self-control was shattered. She fled to her children and told them of their father's decision. They were amazed and ashamed, and one day they visited him and suggested that he liquidate his business and devote his time to regaining his health. He was aware of what they feared and he rebuked them more sharply and bitterly than he had ever done before. "My life is my own to spend as I wish. I'll work as long as I please. Please spare me your selfish opinions."
Then he laughed and went on, his lackluster eyes staring into their faces, one after the other: "Did your mother tell you I plan to marry again? It's true. Your mother is trying to kill me, and so I'm leaving her for a new woman who will show me a little mercy. If your number should be increased by my new marriage, it won't matter, because my fortune is large enough to satisfy all your desires."
Then he warned them he would have nothing more to do with them and that each must rely on his own resources as long as their father lived.
"As you can see, I can scarcely taste even the bitter medicines, so why should others enjoy my wealth."
His older son asked, "How can you speak to us like this? We are your devoted sons."
"From now on you're your mother's sons!"
He kept to his threat. From that time on he gave nothing to his sons and deprived his house of the luxurious fare for which it was known. He did this so that everyone, especially his wife, would share in the restrictions imposed upon him. Alwan also constantly referred to his proposed marriage. He found this a most effective weapon for weakening his wife's patience. His sons all felt a genuine sadness for their father's condition; when they met to discuss the matter, the eldest one spoke first: "We must abide by his wishes until God works His inevitable will."
"If he seriously intends to get married," replied his lawyer son, "then most severe steps must be taken. We cannot leave him to be neglected by someone only interested in his money."
Hamida's disappearance had been a shattering blow to Salim Alwan. Although he had thought about her occasionally after his illness, she had not really been in the mainstream of his thoughts until she disappeared. This news, however, had roused his anxiety, and he had followed with great concern all efforts to trace her. When the gossip reached him about her having run off with an unknown man, he was extremely upset. That very day he was in such a temper that no one dared go near him. In the evening he came home with shredded nerves and a pounding headache that kept him awake until dawn. His heart burst with resentment and revenge toward the fickle girl. He pictured her dangling from a scaffold, her tongue hanging out and her eyes bulging. When he heard of Abbas' return from Tell el-Kebir, his frenzy subsided for some obscure reason and he invited the young man to see him.
He seated Abbas close to him and chatted amiably, asking about his living conditions and avoiding any mention of the girl. Abbas was pleased with the man's kindness and thanked him profusely. Trusting in Alwan's sympathy completely, Abbas told him everything, while the businessman gazed at him hollow-eyed.
Soon after Hamida's disappearance something happened which, although probably trivial, is still remembered in the annals of Midaq Alley.
Early one morning Salim Alwan was on his way to his office when he met Sheikh Darwish going in the opposite direction. In the old days, Alwan had been very fond of Sheikh Darwish and had often demonstrated this with gifts. After his illness, however, Alwan had completely ignored the old man. When they met near the office, Sheikh Darwish shouted out, as though to himself, "Hamida has disappeared."
This took Alwan by surprise, and he assumed Sheikh Darwish was addressing him. "What's that got to do with me?"
"And she didn't just disappear," Sheikh Darwish continued, "she ran away. And she didn't just run away; she ran away with a strange man. In English they call that an 'elopement' and it is spelled e-l-o-p…"
Before he could finish, Salim Alwan exploded, "It's a cursed day for me when I see your face in the morning, you idiot! Get out of my sight, a curse of God on you!"
Sheikh Darwish stood as though bolted to the ground, and then a look like that of a terrified child came into his eyes. He burst out weeping. Mr. Alwan continued on his way, leaving Sheikh Darwish standing alone. His voice now rose to a near-scream until it reached Kirsha, Uncle Kamil, and the old barber; they all rushed up to him, asking what was wrong. They led him off to the cafe and sat him down in his armchair, doing their best to calm him. Kirsha ordered a glass of water, and Uncle Kamil patted him on the shoulder, saying sympathetically, "Put your faith in God, Sheikh Darwish. O God, keep us from evil. For you to weep is an omen of some misfortune to come… O God, give us grace!"
However, Sheikh Darwish kept on weeping and howling, his breath gasping and his limbs trembling. Then he shut his lips rigidly, pulled at his necktie, and stamped the ground with his wooden clogs. The windows of the houses were opening now and heads stared down at the scene. Husniya, the bakeress, was the first to appear in front of the shop. Eventually the wailing reached Salim Alwan in his office. He wished the old man would stop his wailing. In vain he tried to turn his attention to something else, but it seemed to Alwan that the whole world was weeping and wailing. If only he had not shouted at the saintly old man! If only he hadn't crossed his path! He could have taken no notice of him and just passed politely on.
Alwan groaned in self-reproach. "A person as sick as you would be better off making peace with God, instead of angering one of His holy men." He abandoned his pride and made his way to Kirsha's cafe. Taking no notice of the surprised looks, he approached the weeping old man and placed his hand gently on his shoulder. "Forgive me, please, Sheikh Darwish."
30
Abbas was in Uncle Kamil's flat when there was a loud knock on the door. He opened it and found Hussain Kirsha standing there, dressed in a shirt and trousers, his small eyes glinting as usual. Hussain rushed at him in a frenzied greeting. "Why haven't you come to see me? This is your second day back in the alley! How are you?"
Abbas held out his hand and smiled. "How are you, Hussain? Please don't be annoyed with me, I'm very tired. I didn't forget you and I was not trying to avoid you. Let's go out and have a chat."