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Since Kamal, Husayn, and Isma'il had been successful in the baccalaureate examination that year — although admittedly the first two were seventeen and the third twenty-one they discussed the examination and related issues pertaining to their futures. Isma'il Latif raised the topic. When he spoke, he craned his head up as though to conceal his short stature and light build compared with those of his three companions. All the same, he was muscular and sturdy. The caustic, ironic look of his narrow eyes, his sharply pointed nose, his thick eyebrows, and his strong wide mouth were sufficient warning to anyone tempted to attack him.

Isma'il said, "We were one hundred percent successful this year. Nothing like this has ever happened before, at least not where I'm concerned. I ought to be in my final year at the University like Hasan, who began Fuad I School with me the same day. When my father saw my number listed in the newspaper among the students who passed, he said sarcastically, wonder whether God will let me live long enough to see you graduate from the University.'"

Husayn Shaddad commented, "You're not far enough behind to justify your father's despair."

Isma'il said ironically, "You're right. Two years in each grade is hardly remarkable". Then, addressing Hasan Salim, he continued: "And probably you're already planning what you'll do when you finish University."

Hasan Salim was in the final year of Law School. He realized that Isma'il Latif was inviting him to announce his goals for the future. But Husayn Shaddad answered Isma'il first: "There's no reason for him to worry about that. He'll surely land a position in the judiciary or the diplomatic corps."

Hasan Salim emerged from his haughty silence. His handsome face with its fine features had an argumentative look. He asked defiantly, "Why should I believe you?"

He prided himself on his industry and intelligence and he wanted everyone to acknowledge them. No one disputed that, but likewise no one was forgetting he was the son of Salim Bey Sabry, superior court judge. To have a father like that was a distinction far more significant than intelligence and industry.

Husayn Shaddad avoided any reference that would rile his friend aud said, "Your superior success is the guarantee you're seeking."

Isma'il Latif would not let him enjoy this praise. He said, "And there's your father. I reckon he's far more important than good grades."

Hasan met the attack with unexpected nonchalance. Either he had grown tired of Isma'il's teasing, since they had been together almost every day all summer long, or he had started to think his friend a chronic complainer whose comments should not be taken seriously. The friendship linking the young men did not rule out bickering and wrangles, which occasionally became intense but did not weaken their relationship.

Glaring at Isma'il mockingly, Hasan Salim asked, "What about you? What have your agents been able to come up with for you?"

Isma'il laughed out loud, revealing his sharp teeth, yellow from smoking, which he had been one of the first to embrace in secondary school. He answered, "An unsatisfactory result. Medicine and Engineering didn't accept me, because my overall average was too low. That left only Commerce and Agriculture. So I chose the former."

Kamal was upset that his friend had ignored the Teachers College, as though it was not worth considering. All the same, since he could have attended Law School and there was no dispute about its high status, his choice of the other instead seemed so noble that it helped console him for his lonely sorrow.

Husayn Shaddad laughed in a charming way that showed off his attractive mouth and eyes. He said, "Oh, if only you had chosen Agriculture! Imagine Isma'il out in the fields spending his life with farm laborers…."

Isma'il answered with conviction, "That's not for me, not even if the fields were in downtown Cairo, on Imad al-Din Street."

Then Kamal looked at Husayn Shaddad and asked, "And you?"

Husayn looked off into the distance thoughtfully before he replied, granting Kamal an opportunity to scrutinize him. How fascinated he was by the idea that Husayn was her brother that his friend kept her company in their home the way he had once lived together with Khadija and Aisha. It was hard for him to picture that. Husayn sat with her, conversed with her, spent time alone with her, and touched her.

"Touchesher? He has meals with her! I wonder how she eats? Does she make little noises with her lips? Does she eat regional specialties like mallow greens or beans in oil? That's difficult to imagine too. What's important is that he's her brother."

Kamal could touch the hand that touched hers. If only he might inhale the fragrant perfume of her breath at one remove from her brother….

Husayn Shaddad replied, "Law School on a provisional basis."

Was it not conceivable that Husayn would become friends with Fuad Jamil al-Hamzawi? Why not? Law School was no doubt a truly admirable institution, since Husayn was enrolling in it. Attempting to convince people of the value of his own idealism would be foolhardy now.

Isma'il Latif commented sarcastically, "I didn't know some students enroll in school 'on a provisional basis.' Please explain this to us."

Husayn Shaddad answered seriously, "All the schools are the same to me. None has anything that I find especially attractive. Of course I want to learn, but I don't want to work. Nowhere at the University will I get the knowledge I want free from professional ties. Since I haven't succeeded in discovering anyone in our house who agrees with me, I find myself obliged to meet them halfway. I asked them which school they would choose. My father commented. 'Is there anything besides Law?' So I said, 'Let it be Law.'"

Imitating his tone and gestures, Isma'il Latif exclaimed, "On a provisional basis!"

They all laughed. Then Husayn Shaddad continued: "Yes, on a provisional basis, you quarrelsome fellow. For it's possible, if things turn out the way I want, that I may cut short my studies in Egypt and go to France, even if I have to study law there. Then I could sip freely from the springs of culture. There I could think, see, and listen…."

Still imitating his friend's tone and gestures, as though to complete what had been left unsaid, Isma'il Latif added, "And taste, touch, and smell."

After they had laughed, Husayn Shaddad went on: "Rest assured that my intentions aren't what you suspect."

Kamal believed him wholeheartedly and felt no need for any substant ation, not only because he thought too highly of his friend to doubt him but also because he believed that the life Husayn was bent on enjoying in France would by its very nature transport the soul. Obvious as this point was, Isma'il and others like him, who believed only in things countable and visible, could hardly be expected to grasp it. Husayn had long excited Kamal's dreams. Here was another of those dreams, remarkable for its expansive beauty. This was a dream rife with food for the spirit and for the mind, for hearing and seeing.

"How often I've had this dream," Kamal thought, "both waking and sleeping. After all my aspirations and efforts, the dreaming process has led me to the Teachers College". Then he asked Husayn, "Do you really mean what you said about not wanting to work?"

With a dreamy look in his handsome black eyes, Husayn Shaddad answered, "I'm not going to be a speculator on the stock market like my father. I couldn't stand a life that consisted of uninterrupted work for the sake of making money. I will never be a civil servant. A career as a bureaucrat is slavery disguised as earning a living. I have more than enough to live on. I want to live as a tourist in the world. I'll read, see, hear, and think, moving from the mountains to the plains and back again."

After watching him throughout the discussion with a scornful look softened by his aristocratic reserve, Hasan Salim objected, "A civil service career need not be simply a way of earning a living. I, for example, won't need to work to earn a living, but it's important for me to work in a noble profession. A man must have a career. A dignified occupation is a goal worth achieving for its own sake."