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"Al-Sayyid Ahmad, please excuse me if I tell you frankly that you're spending money recklessly these days."
Jamil al-Hamzawi said that in a tone blending subservient politeness with friendly informality. Although fifty-seven, he was strong and in good health. His hair was speckled with gray, but time had not decreased his energy in any respect. He still spent the whole day in constant motion, looking after the store and its customers, just as he had since he started working there, back when die business was first established. Over the years he had gained secure rights and the respect due him for his industry and honesty. Ahmad Abd al-Jawad considered him a friend. The affection he had shown his employee recently by helping enroll Fuad in Law School had only increased al-Hamzawi's loyalty and inclination to speak up frankly when necessary to avoid some harm or realize some gain.
Referring perhaps to their brisk sales in the frantic market, Ahmad replied in a reassuring tone, "Business is great, praise God."
Smiling, Jamil al-Hamzawi answered, "My our Lord multiply and sanction it. But I repeat what I've said of you, that if you had embraced the mores of the merchant along with his profession, you would be a wealthy man today."
Ahmad grinned with satisfaction and shrugged his shoulders. He earned a lot and spent a lot. How could he regret the pleasures he gained from life? He had never lost track of the need to keep his income and expenditures in balance and always kept a reserve on hand. Aisha and Khadija were both married. Kamal was beginning the final stage of his schooling. Why should he not enjoy some of the good things life had to offer? But al-Hamzawi was not overstating the case when he accused his boss of squandering money, for in fact he had been anything but economical and judicious of late. His expenses took many forms. Gifts devoured a substantial sum. The houseboat was squeezing him dry. His mistress was demanding sacrifices of him. In short, Zanuba was pushing him to spend money extravagantly, and he was allowing himself to be manipulated, putting up little resistance. He had not been like that in the past. Of course he had spent lavishly, but no woman had ever been able to sway him from a steady course or to force him to spend recklessly. Back then he had been confident of his powers. He had not cared much whether he responded to all his mistress's requests. If she was coy with him, he would pretend to lose interest in her, for he was proudly aware of his youthful virility. Nowadays, desire for his lover had subjected his will to hers and made the expenses appear trivial to him. He seemed to have no object in life beyond retaining her affection and winning her heart. But how vainglorious her affection was! What a refractory heart she had! The truth of his situation was not hidden from him, and he felt saddened and hurt by it. He remembered his salad days with longing and sorrow, although he did not acknowledge that they had departed. Yet he did not lift a finger to make any serious attempt to resist. That was beyond his power.
Al-Sayyid Ahmad told Jamil al-Hamzawi with apparent irony, "Perhaps you're wrong to consider me a merchant". Then with resignation he added, "Only God is well-to-do."
Some people came in, and al-Hamzawi was busy looking after them. No sooner was al-Sayyid Ahmad left to his own reflections than he noticed a person who, after filling the doorway to capacity, was strutting toward him. This was a surprise. He recalled at once that he had not laid eyes on this figure for four years or more. Moved solely by politeness, he rose to greet her, saying, "Welcome to our honored neighbor."
Maryam's mother held out a hand covered with a corner of her wrap as she said, "Thank you, al-Sayyid Ahmad."
He invited her to sit down, and she took the chair she had used on a day that was now part of history. He sat back down wondering about this new development. He had not seen her since she came to call on him at the store a year after Fahmy's death, when she had attempted to get him to resume his visits to her house. He had been amazed at her daring then. Not having recovered from his grief, he had treated her gruffly and bade her farewell coldly. Why was she corning back today? He looked her over and found her unchanged. She was plump and elegant, wearing a fragrant perfume. Her eyes sparkled over the top of her veil. But her finery could not conceal the advance of time and the lines under her eyes. She reminded him of Jalila and Zubayda. How heroically these women risked their lives in the battle for life and youth…. Amina had only too quickly fallen prey to her sorrows and allowed her bloom to fade.
Bahija brought her chair close to the desk and said in a low voice, "Excuse me, al-Sayyid, sir, for this visit. Necessity has its own laws."
Looking dignified and grave, al-Sayyid Ahmad immediately replied, "Welcome to you. Your visit is an honor and a favor for us."
Smiling, she answered in a tone that revealed her gratitude, "Thank you. Praise to God I've found you in good spirits and good health."
He in turn thanked her and prayed that she would be well and strong. Then she was silent for a few moments before saying with concern, "I've come for an important reason. I was told he had consulted you in due time and received your consent. I refer to Yasin Effendi's request to marry my daughter Maryam. Was I correctly informed? This is what I've come to discover."
Ahma d Abd al-Jawad lowered his eyes to keep her from reading in them his resentment at her words. He was not deceived by her pretense at concern for his consent. Let her try her wiles on some other man unfamiliar with what lay hidden behind them. He for one knew beyond the shadow of a doubt that it was all the same to her whether he gave his consent or withheld it. Did she not realize why he had not accompanied Yasin on his visit to her? Even so, she had come to force him to proclaim his approval and for some other reason, which would shortly be revealed.
He looked up at her with calm eyes and said, "Yasin told me of his plan and I wished him success. Maryam has always been like a daughter to us."
"May God grant me the blessing of your being favored with a long life. This marriage tie will be a prestigious honor for us."
"I thatik you for your compliment."
She said fervently, "I'm pleased to tell you frankly that I postponed announcement of my consent until I could be certain of yours."
"Bitch!" he exclaimed to himself. "She probably announced her approval even before seeing Yasin."
"Mrs. Umm Maryam, I can only repeat my thanks."
"For that reason, the first thing I told Yasin Effendi was: 'Let me be sure your father agrees before anything else, for every other consideration is negligible compared to his wrath.'"
"My God, my God!" She had no sooner stolen the mule than she was busy throwing ropes around his master.
"Coming from you, such a noble statement is hardly unusual."
With triumphant enthusiasm she continued her verbal offensive: "Al-Sayyid, sir, you're a man after our own heart, the best anyone would boast of in our whole quarter."
The guile of women and their coquetry how fed up he was with both. Could she possibly imagine that he was wallowing in the dust to pursue the affections of a lute player once scorned by drunkards?
He replied modestly, "God forgive me."
In a sad tone, her voice rising enough so that he was afraid those at the far end of the store would hear her, she said, "I was very sad to learn he had left his father's home."
Al-Sayyid Ahmad shook his head to caution her not to speak too loudly. Before she could say anything more, he commented with a frown, "The fact is, his conduct angered me. I was amazed he had done such a stupid thing. He should have asked my advice first, but he carried his belongings to Palace of Desire Alley. Only then did he come to apologize to me! A juvenile prank, Mrs. Umm Maryam…. I lectured him, ignoring his alleged disagreement with Amina. That was a silly reason for him to give in an attempt to justify even more foolish behavior."