The woman smiled, but anxiety had robbed her smile of its spirit. She realized that her resourceful son was reminding her of a duty only she could perform. She did not object to doing it, since there was no alternative, but she accepted the task reluctantly, as she did many others. She asked God that it would end well. She remarked tenderly and affectionately, "Who should bring it up but me?… May our Lord be with us".
"I'm sorry… If I could, I'd do it myself".
"I'll talk to him, and it will be successful, God willing. Maryam’s a pretty girl, polite and from a fine family".
She was silent for a moment. Then, as though it had only just occurred to her, she asked, to clarify something, "But isn't she your age or even older?"
The youth replied uneasily, "That doesn't matter to me at all!"
Smiling, she replied, "With God’s blessing; may our Lord be with us". Then, as she stood up, she added, "I leave you now in the Master’s care. Until tomorrow". She leaned toward him and kissed him, then she left the room, closing the door behind her. She was astonished to find Kamal sitting on a sofa, bent over a notebook. She shouted at him, "What are you doing here?"
Smiling in embarrassment, he rose and replied, "I remembered that I'd left my English notebook. So I came to get it. Then I thought I'd review the words one more time".
Once again she went with him to the bedroom. She did not leave him until he was stretched out under the cover, but he did not fall asleep. The lively thoughts racing through his mind defeated sleep. As soon as he heard his mother’s footsteps going upstairs to the top floor, he leapt out of bed. Then he opened the door and ran to his sisters' room. He shoved the door open and went in without shutting it, so the lamp in the hall could illumine some of the darkness blanketing the room. He rushed to the bed and whispered, "Khadija!"
Astonished, the young woman sat up in bed. He jumped up beside her, so excited he was breathless. As though not satisfied with entrusting the secret that had kept him from falling asleep to only one listener, he put his hand on Aisha and shook her. The girl had already noticed his arrival. She threw back the cover and raised her head, half out of curiosity and half in protest. She asked, "What brings you now?"
He paid no attention to her tone of protest, because he was certain that a single word hinting at his secret would be enough to turn them head over heels. His heart jumped with delight and joy at this thought. Then he whispered, as though he was afraid someone else would hear him, "I've got an amazing secret".
Khadija asked him, "What secret?… Tell us what you've got and show us how clever you are".
He could not conceal it any longer. He replied, "My brother Fahmy wants to get engaged to Maryam".
At that, Aisha sat up in bed too, with a quick, mechanical motion, as though the revelation was cold water splashed on her face and teeth. The three shadows moved close together in a mound resembling a pyramid in the faint light penetrating the room, which was reflected on the floor near the open door as a trapezoidal panel. Its edges fluctuated with the oscillations of the lamp’s wick, which had been exposed to a draft when the door was left open. The breeze reached the hall in gentle whispers, flowing surreptitiously from the small openings of the girls' window.
Khadija asked with great interest, "How do you know that?"
"I got out of bed to fetch my English notebook. When I reached the door of the study I heard my brother’s voice. So I stayed there on the sofa". Then he repeated what he had overheard. They listened to him, spellbound, until he finished. At that point Aisha asked, as though she needed further convincing, "Do you believe this, Khadija?"
In a voice that sounded as though she was speaking by telephone from a distant city, her sister replied, "Do you imagine he’s invented a long, complicated story like this?"
"You're right". Aisha laughed to relieve her tension and continued: "There’s a big difference between the death of the boy in the street and this story".
Paying no attention to Kamal’s objection to the insinuation directed at him, Khadija asked, "How do you suppose this came about?"
Aisha laughed and observed, "Didn't I tell you once I doubted it was the hyacinth beans that enticed Fahmy to the roof every day?"
"It’s another kind of fragrant vine that’s wound itself around his leg".
Aisha sang softly: "You're not to be blamed, my eyes, for loving him".
Khadija chided her: "Hush… this isn't the time for singing… Maryam’s in her twenties and Fahmy’s eighteen. How can Mother agree to that?"
"Mother?… Mother’s a gentle dove and wouldn't know how to say no. But wait a minute; it’s only fair to say that Maryam’s beautiful and a fine girl… Moreover, our house is the only one in the neighborhood that hasn't had a wedding yet…"
Both Khadija and Aisha loved Maryam, but love had never been able to hide a loved one’s defects from Khadija’s eyes, regardless of the circumstances, and when provoked she would not limit herself to criticizing defects. Since the marriage saga stirred her latent fears and jealousy, she turned on her friend without any qualms. Her heart refused to accept her as a wife for her brother. She proceeded to say, "Are you crazy?… Maryam’s pretty, but she’s not nearly good enough for Fahmy. You donkey, Fahmy’s getting an advanced degree. He'll be a judge someday. Can you imagine Maryam as the wife of a high-ranking judge? She’s like us in most respects. Indeed, in more than one respect she’s not as good as we are, and neither of us is ever going to marry a judge".
Aisha asked herself, "Who says a judge is better than an officer?" Then she said to her sister argumentatively, "Why not?"
Without paying attention to her sister’s protest, Khadija continued: "Fahmy will be able to marry a girl a hundred times more beautiful than Maryam and at the same time one who’s educated, rich, and the daughter of a bey[11] or even a pasha. So why should he be in a hurry to get engaged to Maryam? She’s nothing but an illiterate with a sharp tongue. You don't know her as well as I do".
Aisha perceived that in Khadija’s eyes Maryam had been transformed into a bundle of faults and defects. All the same, she could not keep from smiling secretly in the dark at the description of Maryam as sharp-tongued, since the epithet was much more suitable for Khadija. She abandoned her protest and said submissively, "Let’s leave the matter to God…"
Khadija replied with conviction, "The matter is in God’s hands in heaven and in Daddy’s here on earth. We'll find out what he thinks about it tomorrow". Then she told Kamal, "It’s time for you to go quietly to your bed".
Kamal returned to his room, telling himself, "That only leaves Yasin, and I'll tell him tomorrow".
20
Khadija and Aisha were sitting beside the closed door of their parents' room on the top floor. They were facing each other with their legs crossed beneath them, warily trying not to breathe too loud as they strained with great interest to hear what was being said inside. It was shortly before the afternoon prayer, and their father had risen from his siesta and performed his ablutions. As usual, he was sitting drinking his coffee while he waited for the call to prayer. He would pray and then return to the store. The sisters expected their mother to broach the subject Kamal had told them about, since there would be no more suitable time for this purpose. Their father’s loud voice carried to them from inside, discussing ordinary household matters. They listened apprehensively and attentively, exchanging questioning glances, until finally they heard their mother say in an exceptionally polite and submissive way, "Sir, if you will allow me, I'll tell you something Fahmy requested me to bring to your attention".