Frowning and smiling at the same time, Ai'da said, “Don't believe him. He's more immersed in the world of the imagination than I am. But he's not satisfied until he accuses me of things that aren't true.”
“Aphrodite?” Kamal wondered. “What's Aphrodite compared with my beloved? By the truth of your perfection, I'm sad to have you imaane yourself in any form but your own.”
He commented sincerely, “You're not to blame. The heroes of al-Manfduti and Rider Haggard have made a big impression on ray imagination.”
Husayn laughed delightedly and cried out, “How fitting it would be for all of us to be united in a single book. Why should we stay here on the ground, since we're so drawn to the world of the imagination? It's up to you. Bring this dream to reality. I'm not a writer and don't want to be, but you would be able to bring us together, if you so desired, in one book.”
“A'ida in a book of which you would be the author…” Kamal marveled to himself. “Worship, mysticism, or insanity?”
“And me?” Budur's voice burst out suddenly in protest. The three others roared with laughter.
Husayn cautioned Kamal: “Don't forget to reserve space for Budur.”
Huggi ng the little girl affectionately, Kamal said, “You'll be on the first page.”
Ai'da looked off to the horizon and asked, “What will you write about us?”
He did not know what to say. He hid his confusion with a feeble laugh, but Husayn replied for him: “Like all the other authors, he'll write a violent love story ending with death or suicide. They kick your heart around, but it's all a game to them.”
“I hope only it's the hero who meets this end,” Ai'da said with a laugh.
“The hero is unable to imagine his beloved perishing,” Kamal thought. He asked, “Is it mandatory that it should end with death or suicide?”
“That's the normal ending for a passionate love story.”
“When one is fleeing from pain,” Kamal reflected, “or trying to hold on to happiness, death seems a valid goal.”
Then he said ironically, “A very distressing business!”
“Haven't you learned that? It seems you haven't been in love yet.”
“There comes a moment in the lives we lead,” Kamal told himself, “when weeping serves the purpose of the anesthetic in a surgical operation.”
Husayn continued: “To rne the important thing is that you save a place in your book for me, even if I'm out of the country.”
Kamal gave him a long look and asked, “Are you still seduced by the notion of traveling?”
A serious note crept into Husayn Shaddad's voice as he said, “Every moment! I want to live. I want to be everywhere, far and wide, high and low. Then let death come, after that.”
“What if it came before?” Kamal wondered. “Could that happen? What of the sorrow that's almost killing you? Have you forgotten Fahmy? A life isn't always judged by its length. Your life, Fahmy, was a brief moment, but it was complete. Otherwise, what's the use of virtue and immortality? But you're sad for another reason. It's hard for you to contemplate dispassionately separation from your friend who is so keen to travel. What will your world be like after he's left? What will become of you if his trip separates you from the mansion of your true love? How deceptive today's smiles are. She's at hand now. Her voice tickles your ear, and her perfume your nose. But can you stop the wheel of time? Will you spend the rest of your life circling round her mansion at a distance, like the fabled lunatic lovers of old?”
“If you want my opinion, you should postpone your travels until you've finished your studies.”
Ai'da said eagerly, “That's what Papa has told him repeatedly.”
“It's sound advice.”
Husayn asked sarcastically, “Is it necessary for me to memorize civil and Roman law in order to savor the beauty of the world?”
Still addressing Kamal, A'ida said, “Father hasheaped scorn on Husayn's dreams. He hopes to see his son in the judiciary or working in finance like him.”
“The judiciary, finance! I'm not going to join the judiciary. Even if I get my degree and seriously consider choosing a profession, my interest will be in the diplomatic corps. And as for money, do you want more? We're already unbearably rich.”
“How amazing that a man's wealth can be unbearable,” mused Kamal. “ Long ago you thought you would be like your father and own a safe similar to his. Wealth is no longer one of your dreams, but don't you wish you could liberate yourself from material concerns to embark on spiritual adventures? How wretched life is when it's devoted solely to earning a living.”
“No one in my family understands my hopes. They think I'm a spoiled child. My mother's brother once said sarcastically so I could hear, ‘Wouldn't you have expected the only boy in the family to turn out better than this?’ Why should they feel like this? It's because I don't worship wealth and prefer living to making money. You see? Our family believes that any effort not leading to an increase in wealth is a foolish waste of time, and you find them dreaming of titles, as though they were a lost paradise. Do you know why they love the Khedive Abbas II? Mama has often told me, ‘If only Our Effendi Abbas had stayed on the throne, your father would have been named a pasha long ago.’ Precious money is scorned and spent with abandon if a prince honors us with a visit”. Then, laughing, he added, “Don't forget to record these foibles if you ever get around to writing the book I proposed.”
He had scarcely finished speaking when Aida told Kamal, “I hope you won't be influenced by the prejudices of my disrespectful brother and slander our family in your book.”
Kamal replied in a worshipful tone, “God forbid that I should ever say anything against your family. Moreover, there's nothing disgraceful in what he alleged.”
Ai'da laughed triumphantly, and Husayn smiled with relief, although his eyebrows were raised in mock astonishment. Kamal felt that Husayn was not totally sincere in his attack on his family. He did not question Husayn's statement that he did not worship wealth and preferred living to making money. Yet Kamal imagined that Husayn's comments about the Khedive, titles, and entertaining princes had slipped out as boastful criticism, not just oboasts or criticism. Husayn appeared to be bragging about these things with hisheart but condemning them with his mind. Or perhapshe resented them but saw nothing wrong in mentioning them to a friend whom they would dazzle and fascinate, even if he deplored them too.
Smiling calmly, Husayn asked, “Which of us is to be the book's central character? Me, Ai'da, or Budur?”
Budur cried out, “Me!”
Hugging her, Kamal said, “Agreed”. Then he told Husayn, “This will remain a secret until the book is born.”
“What title will you give it?”
“Husayn Around the World!”
Except for Budur, they all roared with laughter at this parody of the title of a farce, The Barbarian Around the World, which was playing at the Majestic.
Inspired by that, Husayn asked him, “Have you found your way to the theater yet?”
“No, the cinema's enough for now.”
Husayn told Ai'da, “The author of our book is not allowed to stay out after nine pm”
A'ida replied captiously, “Still, he's better than people who are allowed to circle the planet.”
Then she turned toward Kamal and, with a tenderness capable of eliciting his agreement regardless of what she proposed, she said, “Is it really wrong for a father to want his son to grow up to be as vigorous and respected as he is? Is it wrong for us to pursue money, titles, and higher things?”
“Stay as you are,” thought Kamal, “and wealth, prestige, and lofty ideals will pursue you. Everyone will want to kiss the ground you walk on. How can I answer, when the response you desire entails my destruction? Alas for your heart, Kamal; it wishes for something you're forbidden.”
“There's nothing wrong with that”. Then, after a short pause, he added, “On condition that the person's temperament is congenial to it.”
“Wh
at temperament would not be congenial to that? The strange thing is that Husayn does not renounce this refined life out of an ambition for something superior to it. No, my good man, he dreams of living without any lifework, in idle unemployment. Isn't that amazing?”
Laughing sarcastically, Husayn asked, “Don't the princesses you adore live that way?”
“Because there's no life above theirs to aspire to. What are you compared with them, lazybones?”
Husayn turned toward Kamal and in a voice tinged with anger said, “The precept followed in our family is to work to increase our fortune and to become friends with influential people in hopes of obtaining the rank of bey. Once that is achieved, you need to redouble your efforts to expand your fortune and befriend the elite so you will be promoted to pasha. Finally you make ingratiating yourself with the princes your supreme goal in life. You have to content yourself with that, since joining the royal family is not an objective you attain by effort or ingenuity. Do you know how much the prince's last visit cost us? Tens of thousands of pounds were wasted on buying new furniture and rare curios from Paris.”
Ai'da protested: “That money was not spent to curry favor with the prince just because he's a prince, but because he's the Khedive's brother. The motive for flattering him was our loyal friendsh:p for him and his brother. It wasn't fawning ingratiation. And it's an honor no intelligent person could reject.”
But Husayn obstinately persisted: “At the same time, Papa keeps on consolidating his ties to politicians like Adli, Tharwat, and Rushdi, who cannot be accused of loyalty to the Khedive. Doesn't that show he accepts the prevailing wisdom that the end justifies i:he means?”
“Husayn!” Ai'da shouted her brother's name in a voice Kamal had never heard before. It was full of haughty, disdainful censure, as though she wanted to warn Husayn that such things should not be said, at least not in the presence of an outsider. Kamal's face blushed with embarrassment and pain. The happiness that had momentarily hovered over him at being included in the activities of this beloved family dissipated. Her head was erect, her lips were knit, and her eyes betrayed a frown, which she had not allowed to reach her forehead. The impression she gave was one of anger the anger of a highborn queen. Kamal had never seen her emotional be fore. He had not imagined that she had feelings. He gazed at her face with astonishment and relief but felt so uncomfortable he wished he could invent an excuse to avoid continuing this conversation. After a few secondshe recovered and began to observe the beautiful, regal anger on her queenly face. He admired her flaming pride, domineering scorn, and frowning superiority.
As though speaking for Kamal's edification, A'ida proclaimed, “Papa's friendship with the men you mentioned has a long history prior to the Khedive's deposition.”
Kamal wished sincerely to drive away this cloud. He playfully asked Husayn, “If that's the way you feel, why do you look down on Sa'd Zaghlul for having been a student at al-Azhar?”
Husayn laughed in his untroubled way and replied, “I hate fawning over the nobility, but that doesn't mean I respect the masses. I love beauty and despise ugliness. Sadly enough, beauty is rarely found among common people.”
A'ida interjected in an even voice, “What do you mean by 'fawning over the nobility'? it's contemptible behavior for someone who does not belong to this class. But I think we do. When we attempt to ingratiate ourselves with other members of our class, they reciprocate it.”
Kamal volunteered to answer, saying fervently, “That's the indisputable truth.”
Husayn rose at once and said, “We've rested long enough. Let's walk some more.”
They got up to resume their excursion, heading for the Sphinx. The sky was partly overcast. Groups of clouds spread out from the horizons to meet and veil the sun with a translucent curtain. The sun's light appeared gleaming white through this covering and fell to earth with a graceful purity.
As they walked along they met parties of students and mixed groups of European men and women. Perhaps wishing to placate A'ida indirectly, Husayn told her, “The European women are looking at your dress with great interest. Are you satisfied?”
She smiled with contented pride. Raising her head with charming conceit, she said in a voice that revealed her secure self-confidence, “Naturally!”
Husayn laughed and Kamal smiled. Then the former told the latter, “A'ida is considered an authority on Parisian taste throughout our whole district.”
Still smiling, Kamal said, “Naturally.”
A'ida rewarded him with a soft, tender laugh, like the cooing of a dove. It cleansed hisheart of the residue left behind by the bizarre aristocratic squabble.
“The wise man,” Kamal cautioned himself, “is the one who knows where his foot will fall before he moves it. Recognize how far below these angels you are. The beloved, who looks down at you from the clouds, feels superior even to her own relatives. What's strange about that? She should not have relatives or a family. Perhaps she selected them to be intermediaries between her and her devotees. Admire her composure and rage, her humility and arrogance, her forwardness and reserve, as well as her satisfaction and anger. They are all attributes of hers. So quench your heart's thirst with love. Look at her. The sand impedes her steps. She is not so light-footed here. She has lengthened her stride. Her torso sways like a bough intoxicated by a dying breeze. Yet she affords the eyes a new vision of graceful walking so beautiful that it equals in loveliness her normal manner of strolling clown the mosaic paths of the garden. If you turn back, you'll see her charming footprints in the sand. Rest assured that they constitute landmarks on the mysterious road, providing guidance toward the heights of love and the illuminations of happiness. During your previous visits to this desert you spent all your time playing and leaping about. You were oblivious to the perfumed scents of the hidden meaningshere, because your heart's bud had not yet blossomed. Today, its petals are moist with the dew of longing - those droplets of delight and pain. If you have been deprived of your peaceful ignorance, you have been granted a heavenly anxiety, which brings the heart to life and makes light sing.”
“I'm hungry,” Budur complained.
Husayn said, “It's time for us to turn back, don't you think? If we keep on this way, it will be so far that anyone who isn't hungry yet will be starved by the end.”
When they reached the automobile, Husayn got out the bag and the basket with the food. He placed them on the hood of the car and started to open the lid of his basket, but A'ida suggested that they should eat on one of the blocks of the pyramid. They went there and climbed up on one of the bottom stones. Putting the fDod in the center of the block, they sat at the edge with their feet hanging over. Kamal spread out a newspaper that was in his bag and placed on it what he had brought two chickens, potatoes, cheese, bananas, and oranges. Then he watched Husayn's hands remove the angelic picnic from their basket: elegant sandwiches,four glasses, and a thermos. Although the food Kamal had brought was more substantial, it appeared - to him at least to lack the elegant flourish of theirs. He was beset by apprehension and embarrassment. Husayn gazed appreciatively at the chickens and asked if Kamal had brought any silverware. Kamal extracted knives and forks from the bag and began to slice up the chickens. Then A'ida removed the stopper from the thermos and started filling the glasses with a golden liquid.
Kamal was so surprised that he could not keep from asking, “What's that?”
A'ida laughed but did not reply. Winking at his sister, Husayn said quickly, “Beer.”
“Beer!” Kamal exclaimed fearfully.
Pointing to the sandwiches, Husayn said defiantly, “And ham.”
“You're making fun of me! I don't believe this.”
“No, believe and eat. What a skeptic you are! We've brought the best food and the most delicious drink.”
Kamal's eyes proclaimed his astonishment and alarm. He was tongue-tied, for he did not know what to say. What troubled him most was the fact that this food and drink had been obtained from their home and thus w
ith the knowledge and consent of their parents.
“Haven't you ever had these before?”
“That's a question needing no reply.”
“Then you'll taste them for the first time, and the credit is ours.”
“Impossible.”
“Why?”
“Why!… Another question needing no reply.”
Husayn, A'ida, and Budur raised their glasses and drank some beer. The first two smiled at Kamal as though to say, “You see. It didn't do anything to us.”
Then Husayn said, “Religion, huh? A glass of beer doesn't make you drunk, and ham is delicious and good for you. I don't see the wisdom of letting religion intrude on questions of diet.”
Kamal'sheart felt bruised by these words, but in a tone as amiable as ever he said critically, “Husayn, don't blaspheme.”
For the first time since they started eating A'ida spoke: “Don't think ill of us. We only drink beer to whet our appetites. Perhaps Budur's participation will satisfy you of our good intentions. And ham's very tasty. Try it. Don't be a Hanbali fundamentalist. There are enormous opportunities for you to obey religion in more important ways than this.”
Although her words did not differ in any essential way from Husayn's, they brought peace and balm to his wounded heart. Her words also found in him a soul totally committed to doing nothing to upset them or hurt their feelings. He smiled with gentle forbearance and, picking up some of his own food, said, “Let me eat the food I'm accustomed to and do me the honor of sharing it.”
Husayn laughed. Gesturing toward his sister, he told Kamal, “We agreed at home to boycott your food if you boycotted ours, but it see ms we did not properly appreciate your situation. Therefore, in your honor, I'm going to withdraw from that agreement. Perhaps Ai'da will follow my example.”
Kamal looked hopefully in her direction, and she said with a smile, “If you promise not to think ill of us.”
The Cairo Trilogy Page 85