Whai: could console him for the loss of this view, which was imprinted in his breast and attached to his heart? It had become familiar and sympathetic, as a whole and in its individual parts the mansion, the garden, and the desert. The names A'ida and Husayn Shaddad had been etched in his memory in similar fashion. How could he be deprived of this sight or content himself with glimpsing it from afar, like any other passerby? He was so infatuated with the house that once he had jokingly accused himself of idolatry.
Husayn Shaddad and Isma'il Latif were sitting opposite each other at the table, on which was placed the customary water pitcher with three glasses. As usual in summer, each wore a shirt with an open collar and white pants. They looked up at him with their contrasting faces. Husayn's was handsome and radiant. Isma'il's had sharp features and penetrating eyes. Kamal approached them in his white suit, holding his fez as the tassel swung to and fro. They shook hands, and he sat down with his back to the house … a house that had previously turned its back on him.
Laughing naughtily, Isma'il immediately told Kamal, "It's up to us to find a new place to meet from now on."
Kamal smiled wanly. How happy Isma'il was with his sarcasm, which had never been racked by pain. He and Fuad al-Hamzawi were all Kamal had left. They were friends who would keep his heart company but never blend with it. He would rush to them to escape his loneliness. His only choice was to accept his destiny with good grace.
"We'll have to meet in the coffeehouses or streets, since Husayn's decided to leave us."
Husayn shook his head with the sorrow of a person who has won a coveted objective and is trying to humor friends by appearing sad about a separation that means little to him. He said, "I'll leave Egypt with regret in my heart over my separation from you. Friendship's a sacred emotion I cherish with all my heart. A friend's a partner who's a reflection of yourself. He echoes your sentiments and thoughts. It doesn't matter if we differ in many respects so long as our essential characteristics are the same. I'll never forget this friendship, and we'll keep writing each other until we meet again."
A pretty speech was the only consolation offered a wounded heart that was being forsaken… as if Kamal had not suffered enough at the hands of Husayn's sister. "Is this how you abandon me, leaving me without any real friends?" Kamal wondered. "Tomorrow the forsaken friend will be slain by a mocking thirst for spiritual companionship."
He asked dejectedly, "When will we meet again? I haven't forgotten your keen desire to be a perpetual tourist. Who will guarantee your departure won't be permanent?"
Isma'il agreed. "My heart tells me the sparrow won't fly back into the cage."
Husayn laughed briefly but in a way that revealed his delight. He answered, "I wasn't able to win my father's consent to travel until I promised to continue my legal studies. But I don't know how long I'll be able to keep that promise. There's no great affection between me and the law. Besides, I imagine I won't have much patience with systematic instruction. I only want things I love. My heart's torn between various different forms of knowledge. No one college deals with all of them, as I've told you time and again. I wish to attend lectures on philosophy of art as well as others on poetry and fiction. I want to tour the museums and recital halls, fall in love, and have a good time. What college or faculty offers all these opportunities? Then there's another fact you both know. It's that I'd rather hear than read. I want someone else to do the explaining while I listen. Then I'll dash off my senses at their most perceptive and my mind alert — to mountainsides, seashores, bars, cafes, and dance halls. You'll be receiving a series of reports from me on all these unique experiences."
Husayn seemed to be describing the paradise Kamal had ceased believing in. But Husayn's was a negative paradise, full of taking without any giving. Kamal had aspired to a more positive one. Once this rosy life embraced Husayn to her comely bosom, it was absurd to think he would ever long for his old home.
Isma'il expressed some of Kamal's concerns when he told Husayn, "You won't return. Farewell, Husayn! We have approximately the same dream. Leaving aside the philosophy of art, museums, poetry, mountain slopes, and so forth, we could be a single person. I remind you one final time that you'll never return to us."
Kamal cast Husayn a questioning glance, as if to see what he thought about Isma'il's words.
Their friend said, "No, I'll return frequently. Egypt will be on my extensive itinerary so I can see my family and friends". Then he told Kamal, "I'll be waiting for you to visit Europe with such anxious anticipation that I can almost feel it already."
Who could say? Perhaps Kamal's lie would turn out to be the truth. Alaybe he would traverse those distant realms. No matter what happened, his heart told him that Husayn would return one day and that this profound friendship would not end. His heart sincerely believed this, just as it had believed love could not be plucked from the heart, roots and all… alas.
He entreated his friend, "Travel and do whatever you want, but come back to Egypt to reside here. Then you can leave for trips when you feel like it."
Isma'il added his support to this idea: "If you're really a decent fellow, you'll accept this obvious solution, which reconciles your wishes with ours."
Bowing his head as if convinced, Husayn said, "My travels will eventually lead me to this solution, I believe."
As Kamal listened to Husayn, he gazed at his friend, especially at the black eyes that resembled Aida's and the gestures, which were both grand and gracious. Husayn's diaphanous spirit was almost a visible and tangible presence for Karnal. If this dear friend disappeared, what would remain of the blessing of friendship and the memory of love… that friendship through which Kamal had learned Platonic affection and relaxed happiness… and the love that had inspired in him feelings of heavenly joy and hellish torment?
Referring to each of them in turn, Husayn continued: "When I return to Egypt you'll be an accountant in the Ministry of Finance and you'll be a teacher. It's quite possible I'll find you're fathers. What an amazing idea!"
Isma'il asked laughingly, "Can you imagine us as government employees? Try to picture Kamal as a teacher!" Then he told Kamal, "You'll have to put on a lot of weight before you stand in front of your pupils. You'll find the next generation's a bunch of demons. Compared with them we were angels. Although a dedicated supporter of the Wafd Party, you'll find yourself forced by the government to punish students who strike in support of the Wafd."
Isma'il's observation forced Kamal away from the train of thought absorbing him. He found himself wondering how he could face pupils with his notorioushead and nose. He felt resentful and bitter, imagining on the basis of the behavior of odd-looking teachershe had known — that he would treat his pupils harshly in order to protect himself from their mischief. But he also wondered whether he would be able to be as strict with others as he was with himself.
He ventured, "I don't think I'll always be a teacher."
There was a dreamy look in Husayn's eyes as he said, "You'll go from teaching into journalism, I suspect. Isn't that so?"