Hasan replied confidently, "If I ever need to, I can always make her defer to me."
This sentence and the tone in which it was uttered enraged Kamal to the point of insanity. He wished he could think of some pretext to attack Hasan and to roll him in the dust. Kamal would be strong enough to do it. He looked down on Hasan from above, and their difference in height seemed even greater than it actually was. If she could love someone that short, why could she not love someone a little younger than she was? He felt he had forfeited the world. Hasan invited him to dine with his family, but Kamal excused himself with thanks. Then they shook hands and parted.
He returned home feeling listless, dejected, and despondent. He wanted to be alone to brood over the events of the day, pondering them until their implications became clear. Life seemed clad in mourning weeds. But had he not known from the first that this was a hopeless love? What extra nuances had these events supplied? In any case, his consolation was that while other people talked of love, he loved with all his heart. No one else would be capable of the kind of love that illuminated his heart. This was where his distinction and superiority lay. He would not relinquish his dream of long standing to win his beloved in paradise where there were no artificial distinctions. He would not have a large head or a huge nose there.
"In heaven A'ida will be mine, by virtue of celestial law."
91
He seemed not to exist anymore. She ignored him so totally that it could only have been by design. He first realized this a week after he had spoken with Hasan Salim on Palaces Street, when he met his friends Friday morning at the gazebo in the gardens of the Shaddad mansion. They were all conversing when Ai'da arrived as usual, accompanied by Budur. She stayed for a while, chatting with this one and joking with that one, without paying any attention to Kamal. Initially he assumed his turn would come. But when he grew tired of waiting and noticed she did not want to look him in the eye or at least was avoiding his glance, he abandoned his passive stance and commented on something she had said in order to force her to address him. But she kept on talking and ignored him. Although no one else appeared to have noticed his abortive maneuver, because they were engrossed in what the beloved was saying, that did not soften the blow he had received without knowing what could have provoked it. Since he was predisposed to deny what had happened to him, he hid his suspicions. He began to watch for opportunities to try his luck again, though he was extremely apprehensive. When Budur attempted to escape from A'ida's grasp and waved her free hand at Kamal, he went to take the little girl in his arms. But Ai'da dragged Budur closer to her, protesting, "It's time for us to go". Then she said goodbye and retraced her steps.
Oh, what was the meaning of this? Ai'da was annoyed with him and had come for the sole purpose of displaying her anger. But what was she blaming him for? What sin had he committed? What lapse, great or small, was he responsible for? Sneering at logic, anxiety shattered the certainties of his world.
At the time, he was able to gain firm control of himself so that his worn es would not be exposed. He knew how to keep his head and plaved his normal role to perfection, concealing from his friends' eyes the impact of this crushing blow.
After the gathering broke up, he told himself it was best to face the truth, no matter how bitter. He would have to admit that A'ida had deprived him, for one day at least, of the benefits of her friendship. There was a tiny recording device in his loving heart, and no whisper, thought, or glance of the loved one escaped it. This mechanism even detected her intentions and could anticipate events still remote. Let the cause be whatever it was or let there be no cause — as though this was a disease defying medical treatment in either case he felt like a leaf ripped from the twig by a violent wind and cast into an oozing heap of refuse.
He found his thoughts hovering around Hasan Salim, who had ended their conversation with the words: "If I ever need to, I can always make her defer to me". But she had come today as usual. Kamal had suffered from her snub, not her absence. Moreover, he and Hasan had parted on good terms. There would have been no reason for Hasan to ask her to ignore Kamal. And she was not a person to take orders from any man, no matter who. Besides, Kamal had done nothing wrong. Lord of the heavens, what was the secret behind this censure? At their meeting in the gazebo Ai'da had spoken harshly and mercilessly and had mocked Kamal's head, nose, and dignity. But these remarks had not lacked an affectionate, jesting quality, and the session had ended with something like an apology. Although it had dashed any hope he had nourished for his love, still his love had always been hopeless. When they met today, he had been ignored, ostracized, and condemned to silence and death. It would have been better for the loved one to treat her devotee harshly or cruelly than for her to pass by him as though he did not exist. How wretched! A new entry had been added to the dictionary of painshe carried in his breast. Here was a new levy imposed by love and how oppressive its levies were! In this manner he paid for the light that both illuminated and scorched him.
He was enraged. It was very hard to obtain nothing but this haughty cold-shoulder treatment in return for his enormous love. He was painfully aware that the only expression his anger could find was love and loyalty and that the one way to counteract the blow was prayerful supplication. If his soul had stood accused by anyone else, even by Husayn Shaddad, Kamal would not have hesitated to sever ties, but since the plaintiff was the beloved, all the slivers of anger sped back to his chest. His hostility was poured out on a single target, Kamal. A desire for revenge drove him to inflict punishment on the defendant, Kamal. He sentenced himself to a life of renunciation. A pervasive, sad, obstinate feeling directed him to avoid her forever. He had enjoyed her friendship. Indeed he had considered it a blessing beyond his wildest dreams, even though the force of his love overwhelmed heavens and earth. More than all that, he had enjoyed his despair at ever being loved by her and had forced his unruly cravings to be satisfied with a sweet smile or a kind word, even if these came in parting. But to be ignored by her saddened, baffled, and disoriented him, leaving him alienated from the entire world. In this manner he was afforded an opportunity to feel what a dead man might if still conscious.
His thoughts churned away mercilessly during his waking hours that whole week he was separated from the Shaddad mansion. He kept brooding about his failure, which he agonized over repeatedly — in the morning at home having breakfast with his father, walking along the street with senses that only appeared to be function] ng, at the Teachers College listening absentmindedly to a lecture, reading in the evening with scant attention, or humbly begging entry to sleep's ideal realm. Early in the morning when he opened his eyes, these thoughts were ready to fight for control of him, as tliough they had been lying in ambush at the threshold of consciousness or had awakened him out of an insatiable urge to devour him. Yes, how hideous the soul is when it turns on its master.
On Friday he went to the palace of love and torment, arriving slightly ahead of the appointed hour. Why had he been looking forward so impatiently to this day? What did he hope to gain from it? Did he wish to find some indication, even if only a feeble pulse, that would let him think life had not yet departed from hope's body? Did he dream of a miracle that would unexpectedly cause his beloved to be friendly again for no conceivable reason, exactly as she had grown angry? Or was he trying to stoke the fires of hell so that he might taste cold as hes all the sooner?
He proceeded to the garden along the path strewn with memories. Then he saw Aida seated on a chair, holding Budur on the edge of the table in front of her. There was no one else in the gazebo. He stopped walking and thought of going back outside before she noticed him. But he rejected this idea defiantly and scornfully. He advanced on the gazebo, driven by a strong desire to face his punishment and to strip the veil from the puzzle that had slain his security and peace of mind. This lovely, gracious creature, this ethereal spirit disguised as a woman did she realize what her harshness had done to him? Would her conscience rest comfortably once he co
mplained about his suffering? Her tyrannical hold over him resembled the sun's over the earth, which was destined to orbit in a prescribed path. If it drew too close to the sun they would fuse together, but if the earth retreated too far, it would be annihilated once and for all.
She could bestow one smile on him, and he would salve all his pains with it. He approached her, deliberately treading heavily so she would hear. She turned her head around inquisitively, but then her face seemed to go blank. He stopped a little more than a meter from where she was sitting, bowed his head humbly, and with a smile said, "Good morning."
She nodded her head slightly but did not speak. Then she looked straight in front of her.
There was no longer any doubt that hope was a rigid corpse. He imagined she would shout, "Take your head and nose away so they don't obscure the light of the sun". Budur waved to him. He glanced down at her beautiful and radiant face and went toward her to mask his defeat with her innocent affection. She grabbed hold of his arms, and he learned over to kiss her cheek warmly and gratefully.
Then the voice that in the past had opened the portals of celestial music for him said roughly, "Please don't kissher. A kiss is not a hygienic greeting."
A disconcerted laugh escaped from him, he knew not how or why. He became quite pale. At first dumbfounded and in a stupor, he finally responded incredulously, "It's not the first kiss, so far as I remember."
She shrugged her shoulders as if to say, "That changes nothing."
"Oh!" Was he to begin a new week of torture without getting to utter a word in self-defense?
"Allow me to ask what secret is behind this bizarre change? I've been wondering all week long and have been unable to find an answer."
She did not seem to have heard him and consequently did not bother to reply.
With his voice betraying his anxiety and pain, he continued: "What really makes me sad is that I'm innocent. I've done nothing to deserve this punishment."
She still seemed determined to remain silent, but he was afraid Husayn would arrive before she was coaxed into speaking. In a voice combining complaint with entreaty he quickly said, 'Doesn t an old friend like me deserve at least to be informed of his offense?"
She raised her head, cast him a sideways look as gloomy as storm clouds, and said angrily, "Don't pretend you're innocent!"
"O Lord of the heavens, can sins be committed unconsciously?" he asked himself as he mechanically patted Budur's hands, with which she was attempting to draw him close to her, for she understood nothing of what was going on.
"Alas., my suspicions are correct," he said jerkily. "This is what my heart told me, but I couldn't believe it. You think I've done something wrong. Isn't that so? But of what offense are you accusing, me? By your life, tell me. Don't wait for me to confess, for the simple reason that I've committed no crime against you. No matter how much I search the recesses of my soul, life, and past I can find no intention, word, or deed meant to harm you. I'm amazed chat you don't realize how self-evident this is."
She replied scornfully, "I'm not the kind of girl who's taken in by theatrics. Ask yourself what you said about me."
With alarm he asked, "What have I said about you? To whom did I say it? I swear to you …"
She cut him off in exasperation: "I'm not the least bit interested in your oaths. Save them for yourself. The oaths of slanderers are not to be trusted. The important thing is for you to remember what you said about me."
He tossed his overcoat on a chair as though preparing to throw himself i nto the debate and stepped away from Budur to free himself from her innocent attempts to monopolize his attention. Then he said so heatedly that his words had the ring of truth, "I've never said anything about you I would be embarrassed to repeat now in your hearing. I have never said anything bad about you in my whole life. I wouldn't be able to, if you only realized…. If one of our friends has told you something about me that's angered you, then he's a despicable liar who doesn't deserve your trust. I'm ready to confront him in your presence so that you can see for yourself whether he's telling the truth or, more precisely, lying. You have no defects, so how couJd I mention any? You've really been unfair to me."
She commented sarcastically, "Thanks for this praise, which I don't deserve. I don't think I'm that flawless… if for no other reason than that I haven't received a totally Egyptian upbringing."
This last phrase skewered his mind, for he remembered saying it in his conversation with Hasan Salim when defending his beloved from the doubts Hasan had raised. Had Hasan repeated it in a manner that had stirred her doubts about Kamal's good intentions? The noble Hasan Salim… would he do such a thing? How Kamal's head was spinning….
His eyes eloquently expressing his shock and sorrow, he said, "What do you mean? I admit I said that, but ask Hasan Salim to tell you he's got to tell you that I said those words when I was praising your virtues."
She glared at him coldly and asked, "My virtues? And is my wish to be everyone's 'dream girl' a virtue?"
Kamal cried out with panic and rage, "He said that about you, not I. Won't you stay and let me challenge him in front of you?"
She bitterly and ironically pursued her interrogation: "And is my flirting with you another of my virtues?"
Feeling desperately unable to defend himself from this flood of accusations, he said, "You flirt with me? Where? When?"
"In this gazebo! Have you forgotten? Do you deny you left him with that impression?"
He was hurt by the sarcasm with which she asked, "Have you forgotten?" He perceived at once that Hasan Salim how stupid it all was had nourished suspicions about their tete-a-tete and had shared his doubts with his sweetheart or had ascribed them to Kamal in order to investigate them by this dirty trick of which he was the victim.
He said sadly and indignantly, "I deny it. I deny it with all my force and sincerity. I only regret trusting Hasan."
She said haughtily, as though she considered this last sentence a dig at her, "He always deserves that."
Kamal was beside himself. He imagined the Sphinx had raised its awesome stone paw, unmoved for thousands of years, to bring it down on him, crushing him and burying him beneath it forever.
In a trembling voice he said, "If it's Hasan who told you these lies, then he's a common liar. He's the one slandering me. It's not me slandering you."
A stern expression was visible in her eyes. She asked sharply, "Do you deny that in his presence you criticized my association with Husayn's friends?"
Was this the way an aristocratic patrician distorted a person's words? Deeply moved, he said, "Absolutely! That never happened. God knows I didn't. But he claimed something quite stupendous. He said… he said you love him. He said that if he wanted to, he could prevent you from associating with us. I never meant…"
She interrupted him scornfully and rose, proudly holding herself erect as the halo of her black hair fluttered around her uplifted face. "You're raving! It doesn't matter to me what people say. I'm above all this. In my opinion my only error is in bestowing my friendship indiscriminately."
As she spoke she put Budur down on the ground and took her hand. Then, turning her back on Kamal, Ai'da left the gazebo.
He called after her entreatingly, "Wait a moment please, so …"
But she was already far away, and his voice was louder than it should have been. He imagined that the whole garden had heard him. The trees, the gazebo, and the chairs all seemed to be staring at him scornfully. He closed his mouth and rested his hand on the edge of the table. He leaned over as though his tall torso was bowed by the force of defeat.
He was not alone long. Husayn Shaddad soon appeared with his usual cheerful expression and greeted Kamal in his normal, sweet, innocent fashion. They sat down on neighboring chairs. Isma'il Latif came a little later. Finally Hasan Salim arrived. He made his way to diem with unhurried steps and an arrogant bearing.
Kamal wondered anxiously whether Hasan had observed them from a distance as he had that previous
time. When and how would Hasan learn what had been said in their stormy final conversation? Kamal's rage and jealousy swelled within him like a ruptured appendix. He promised not to allow any adversary to gloat over him. He would not expose himself to anyone's mockery or fei gned affection. He would not let them see any evidence of the turmoil within him. He threw himself into the current of the conversation, laughing at Isma'il Latif's observations, commenting at length on the formation of the new Ittihad or Union Party, on the deserters who had left Sa'd Zaghlul and the Wafd Party, and on the role of Nashat Pasha in all of that. In brief, he played his part to perfection until the meeting concluded peacefully.
When Kamal, Isma'il, and Hasan left the Shaddad mansion at noon, it seemed that Kamal could not restrain himself any longer. He told Hasan, "I'd like to speak to you."
Hasan replied calmly, "Go ahead."
Kamal looked apologetically at Isma'il and said, "Alone."
Isma'il was ready to leave them, but Hasan gestured for him to stay, saying, "I keep nothing from Isma'il."
This tactic infuriated Kamal, for he glimpsed behind it a dubious ploy, which was cause for concern. All the same he said nonchalantly, "So let him hear us. I don't have anything to hide from him either."
He waited until their steps had carried them some distance from the Shaddad mansion. Then he said, "Before you came today, I happened to meet with A'ida in the gazebo alone. We had a bizarre conversation from which I gathered that you had communicated to her part of the conversation you'll recall we had on Palaces Street. But my comments had been so distorted and mutilated that she assumed I had attacked her unfairly and unjustly."
Hasan repeated the words "distorted and mutilated," his lips deformed by anger. Then, casting Kamal a glance to remind him that he was addressing Hasan Salim, not just anyone, Hasan said coldly, "It would be good for you to choose your words carefully."
Kamal replied passionately, "That's just what I did. The truth is that her comments left no room for doubt that you wished to cause trouble between us."
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