Ibrahim al-Far rose unexpectedly and began dancing. The others all started to clap in unison. Then they sang together: So take me in your pocket, Between your belt and sash.
Al-Sayyid Ahmad wondered whether Zubayda would allow the tryst to take place in her house. When the song and dance were concluded, they vied with each other in trading jests and insults in rapid succession. Ahmad Abd al-Jawad began observing Zanuba's face stealthily whenever he came out with a joke, to judge its impact on her. The merry turmoil intensified, and minutes flew by.
"It's time for me to go," said Ali Abd al-Rahim as he rose to get the rest of his clothes.
Muhammad Iffat shouted at him angrily, "I told you to bring her with you, so the evening wouldn't be cut short."
Raising her eyebrows, Zubayda asked, "Who is this woman you're guarding so carefully?"
Ibrahim al-Far said, "A new girlfriend. A whale of a woman. The madam of an establishment in the Wajh al-Birka entertainment district…."
Al-Sayyid Ahmad asked him with interest, "Who is she?"
Ali Abd al-Rahim answered laughingly as he drew his cloak tightly around him, "Your old friend Saniya al-Qulali."
Al-Sayyid Ahmad's blue eyes grew large and a dreamy look was visible in them. With a smile he said, "Remember me to her and convey my greetings to her."
As he twisted his mustache and prepared to depart, Ali Abd al-Rahim answered, "She asked about you and suggested I invite you to spend an evening at her house, after the time set aside for assignations. I told her, 'His eldest son, may the Prophet's name protect him, has reached an age at which it's considered a duty in their family to frequent Wajh al-Birka and other centers of depravity. Thus if his father came here, he would be in danger of bumping into his son.'" He grinned from ear to ear, said goodbye, and exited to the vestibule.
Muhammad Iffat and Ahmad Abd al-Jawad followed to see him out. They kept on chatting and laughing together until Mr. Ali left the houseboat. Then Muhammad Iffat touched his friend's arm and asked, "Zubayda or Jalila?"
Al-Sayyid Ahmad answered simply, "Neither one."
"Why? May God spare us evil."
He replied as though convinced, "A step at a time. I'll be c ontent to pass the remainder of this evening in drinking and listening to the lute."
Muhammad Iffat urged him to take another step but did not press him once al-Sayyid Ahmad excused himself. They returned to the disordered room and resumed their seats. Ibrahim al-Far became the bartender. Signs of intoxication were clearly apparent in their flaming eyes, flowing conversations, and animated gestures. Following Zubayda's lead, they sang together: "Why is the sea laughing?…"
It was remarked that Ahmad Abd al-Jawad's voice rose until it almost drowned out Zubayda's. Then Jalila narrated some snatches of her romantic adventures.
"Since my eyes fell on you," al-Sayyid Ahmad reflected, "I've had the feeling that tonight will not pass without an adventure. How pretty the young girl is. Young? Yes, since she's a quarter century younger than you."
Ibrahim al-Far lamented the passing of the copper trade's golden age, during the war. With a thick tongue he told them, 'Back then you would kiss my hand to get a pound of copper."
Al-Sayyid Ahmad commented, "When you need something from a dog, call him 'mister.'"
Zubayda complained about how drunk she was and rose to try to walk it off, going back and forth. They began to clap to keep time with her staggering steps. They called out in unison the words used to encourage children to walk: "A step at a time. Cross over the doorstep…. A step at a time. Cross over the doorstep". Wine paralyzes the organ that registers sorrow.
Jalila murmured, "That's enough for now". She rose and left the room. She went down the hall to the two cabins, which were opposite each other. She made for the cabin on the Nile side and entered it. Soon they could hear the creaking of her bed as it received her enormous body. What Jalila had done appealed to Zubayda. She followed her lead and headed for the other cabin. The creaking that her bed emitted was even louder.
Ibrahim al-Far said, "The bed has spoken."
From the first cabin a voice made its way to them, singing in imitation of the husky quality of the renowned singer Munira al-Mahdiya: "Darling, come."
Muhammad Iffat got up and answered in song as welclass="underline" "I'm coming."
Ibrahim al-Far looked questioningly at Ahmad Abd al-Jawad. Quoting a saying of the Prophet, al-Sayyid Ahmad told him, "Unless you're embarrassed, do whatever you want."
The man rose and replied, "There's no need for bashfulness on a houseboat."
The coast was clear. This was the moment for which he had been waiting so long. The young girl put the lute aside. She sat cross-legged with the end of her dress draped over her legs. They silently exchanged a glance. Then she stared off into space. The silence was so charged with electricity that it was unbearable. When she stood up suddenly, he asked, "Where are you going?"
Hurrying through the door, she replied, "The bathroom."
He stood up too and took a seat next to hers. Picking up the lute, he began to strum on it while he wondered whether there was a third cabin.
"Your heart shouldn't pound that way, as though the English soldier were herding you ahead of him in the dark like that night after you'd been with Maryam's mother. Do you remember? Don't dwell on that, for it's a painful memory. She's returning from the bathroom. How fresh she looks!"
"Do you play the lute?"
"Teach me," he answered with a smile.
"You should stick with the tambourine, for you're expert at that."
He sighed and said, "Those days have vanished. How delightful they were. You were just a child! Why don't you sit down."
"She's almost touching you," he noticed. "How sweet the beginning of the chase is."
"Take the lute and play something for me."
"We've had enough singing, performing, and laughing. Tonighclass="underline" I've understood more than ever before why they missed you so much."
He smiled in a pleased way and asked craftily, "But you haven't had enough to drink?"
She agreed and laughed. He sprang like a charger to the table to fetch a half-filled bottle and two glasses. As He sat down he said, "Let's drink together."
"The delightful glutton — her eyes shine with deviltry and magic. &sk her about the third room…. Ask yourself whether it's to be just for one night or an affair. Don't wonder about the consequences. Ahmad Abd al-Jawad, no matter how exalted his stature, opens his arms to the lute player Zanuba. She used to serve you platters of fruit…. But you have a right to be happy as a reward for your fresh beauty. Conceit has never been one of my failings."
He saw that her palm grasping the glass was near his knee. He reached his hand out to caress it. She silently drew it back to her lap without looking at him. He asked himself whether flirting was in order at this late hour, especially when the host was a man like himself and the guest a girl like her. But he did not abandon his amiable tenderness.
He asked her suggestively, "Is there a third bedroom on the houseboat?"
She gestured toward the vestibule. Ignoring his suggestion, she merely answered, "On the other side."
Smiling and twisting his mustache, he asked, "Wouldn't it be big enough for both of us?"
Politely but without flirtatiousness, she answered, "If you feel sleepy, you'll find it quite large enough for you."
As though astonished, he asked her, "What about you?"
In the same tone she said, "I'm comfortable just the way I am."
He inched closer to her, but she got up and placed her glass on the table. Then she went to the sofa opposite him. She sat there with a serious look of silent protest sketched on her face. The man was amazed at her attitude. His enthusiasm waned, and he felt that his prids was under attack. He looked at her with a forced smile and then asked, "Why are you angry?"