She moved her foot and caused her slipper to scuff the roof as though she were about to depart. Without quitting her post she said, "Since the discussion has reached the heart, I must leave."
In his ardor, his voice grew louder until he caught himself and lowered it: "No! You must come. Come to me. Now and forever". Then he added sneakily, "To my heart. It and all it possesses are yours."
In a tone of mocking admonishment she advised him, "Don't abuse yourself this way. God forbid that I should deprive you of your heart and its possessions."
"How well do you understand what I'm saying?" he wondered. "When I speak to you, I'm addressing the bitch I love. You're no fool. The memory of Julian makes that clear. Come here, girl. You take after your old lady. I'm afraid I'll light up the darkness with the intense fire flaming inside my body."
"I'll gladly give you my heart and all its possessions," he proclaimed. "Its only happiness is for you to accept it and possess it, if you will belong to it alone."
She answered laughingly, "You crafty fellow, don't you see you want to take rather than give?"
"Where did you learn to talk like that?" he puzzled. "Not even Zanuba, when I was seeing her, could compare. What a cursed place the world would be without you."
"I want you to be mine," he said. "And for me to be yours. What's unfair about that?"
Silence reigned as a look was exchanged by two shadows. Then she said, "Perhaps they're asking now what's keeping you.
Artfully attempting to win her sympathy, he replied, "There's no one in the world who cares about me."
At that, her tone changed and she asked seriously, "How's your son?… Is he still with his grandfather?"
"What's behind this question?" he wondered.
"Yes,' he answered.
"How old is he now?"
"Five…."
"What's become of his mother?"
"I think she's either married or about to be."
"What a pity! Why didn't you take her back, if only for Ridwan's sake?"
"Bitch!" he thought. "Explain what you're getting at."
"Would you really have wanted that?" he asked.
She laughed gently and replied, "How lucky the man is who brings two people together in a moral way."
"Or immoral?" he wondered.
"I don't look back," he stated.
There ensued a strange silence that seemed thoughtful. Then in a voice that was both tender and admonitory she said, "You better not try to catch me on the roof again."
He answered daringly, "Whatever you command. The roof isn't a safe place. Did you know I have a house in Palace of Desire Alley?"
She called out incredulously, "Your own house! Welcome to the man of property."
He was silent for a time, as though wishing to be cautious. Then he said, "Guess what's on my mind."
"That's no concern of mine."
"Silence, darkness, seclusion…" he thought, "what a dreadful effect the gloom has on my nerves…."
"I was thinking," he declared, "of the two adjoining walls of our roofs. What does their image make you think of?"
"Nothing."
"The sight of two lovers clinging together."
"I don't like to hear talk like that."
"The fact that they're next to each other also reminds me that nothing separates them."
"Ha!" This exclamation escaped like an enticing threat.
Laughingly he continued: "It's as though they were telling me, 'Cross over.'"
She retreated two steps until her back touched a sheet hung out to dry. Then she whispered with genuine reproach, "I won't allow this!"
"This!.. What's 'this'?"
"This kind of talk."
"What of the deed itself?"
"I'm going to leave angry."
"Don't do that. I swear by your precious life …"
"Do you mean what you're saying?" he asked himself. "Am I a greater fool than I suspect or are you more clever than I imagine? Why did you mention Ridwan and his mother? … Should you allude to marriage? How intensely do you want her? Madly…."
Maryam said suddenly, "Oh… what's keeping me here?" She turned around and bent her head down to duck under the wash.
He called after her anxiously, "Are you leaving without saying goodbye?"
She lifted her head high to look back over the laundry and remarked, "Enter 'houses by their doors.' That's my farewell message for you". (Qur'an, 2:189.) She quickly made her way to the stairway door and disappeared through it.
Yasin returned to the sitting room. He excused his long absence to Amina by referring to the heat indoors and then went to his room to don his suit. Kamal watched his older brother with thoughtful amazement, but when he looked back at his mother he found her calm and reassured. She had finished drinking her coffee and was reading the grounds. Kamal wondered how she would react if she knew what had taken place on the roof.
Kamal himself was still perturbed by the scene of the couple conversing privately, which he had accidentally witnessed on following his brother to see what was delaying him. Yasin had done tha t. Did the memory of Fahmy mean so little to him? He could net imagine that. Yasin had loved Fahmy sincerely and had grieved for him deeply. It was impossible to doubt his sincerity. Moreover, incidents like this were commonplace. Kamal did not know why people always linked Fahmy and Maryam. His late brother had learned of the girl's affair with Julian before it was finished. A long time had passed after that. Fahmy had apparently forgotten her and gone on to loftier and more significant matters. That was all she deserved, for she had never been good enough for him. What Kamal really needed to think about was whether love could be forgotten. He believed it could not, but how did he know Fahmy had loved Maryam in the way Kamal understood and felt the term. Perhaps it had merely been a powerful desire like that currently overwhelming Yasin or even like that outgrown desire Kamal had once felt for Maryam. It had toyed with him when he reached puberty, playing havoc with his dreams. Yes, that had happened. It had afflicted him in two ways: through the equally powerful torments of desire and remorse. Only Maryam's marriage and subsequent disappearance from their lives had rescued hira.
Kamal was concerned to know if Yasin was suffering and to what dejaree remorse was pricking his conscience. No matter what he thought of Yasin's animal spirits and indifference to higher ideals, Kamal could not imagine it had been easy for him. Despite his tolerant view of the whole matter, Kamal felt the annoyance and anxiety of a young man who would not have compromised his ideals for anything in the world.
After putting on his street clothes and grooming himself, Yasin returned from the bedroom. He said goodbye and departed. Before long they heard someone knocking on the door of the sitting room. Certain of the newcomer's identity, Kamal invited him to enter. A young man of his own age appeared. Short and good-looking, he was dressed in a jacket and a floor-length shirt. He went over to Amina and kissed her hand. Then he shook hands with Kamal and sat down beside him. Although he made a point of being polite, his familiar behavior indicated that he was virtually a member of the household. Amina began speaking to him, addressing him quite simply as Fuad and asking about the health of his mother and of his father, Jamil al-Hamzawi. He answered with delighted gratitude for her gracious welcome. Kamal left his friend with Amina to go put on his jacket in his room. When he returned, the two set off together.
77
They walked along, side by side, toward Qirmiz Alley, avoiding al-Nahhasin Street to keep from passing the store and their fathers. There was enough contrast between tall, skinny Kamal and short Fuad to attract attention.
Fuad asked in a calm voice, "Where are you going tonight?"
Kamal answered excitedly, "Ahmad Abduh's coffee shop."
It was customary for Kamal to pick their destination and for Fuad to acquiesce, even though Fuad was known for his clear, steady mind and Kamal for caprices that seemed ludicrous to his companion. For example, he had repeatedly asked Fuad to accompany him to the Muqattam Hills overlooking the city, to the Cairo Citadel, or to the Tentmakers Bazaar so that they might as he put it feast their eyes on the treasures of the past and wonders of the present. The relationship between the two friends was influenced by the difference in class between their families and by the fact that Kamal's father owned the shop where Fuad's father worked. This distinction was accentuated as Fuad grew accustomed to running errands for Kamal's family. In return, he benefited from Amina's generosity, for she did not begrudge him the finest food she had — he often showed up at mealtimes — and the most serviceable clothes Kamal no longer needed. From the beginning, their friendship had been marked by Kamal's dominance and Fuad's subservience. Although amity had supplanted these other feelings, their psychological impact had never been totally extirpated.