Palace of Desire

88

Holding a small bag under his arm, Kamal stood in front of the Shaddad family mansion. He was wearing an elegant gray suit, and his black shoes were gleaming. With his fez perched securely on his large head, he looked tall and thin. Protruding from his shirt, his neck seemed nonchalant about supporting this large head and huge nose. The weather was pleasant, although occasionally a chilly breeze announced that December was on its way. The scattered, sparkling white clouds moved across the sky languidly, veiling the morning sun from time to time. Kamal stood there expectantly, his eyes directed toward the garage. Then the Fiat emerged, driven by Husayn Shaddad, who turned it around on Palaces Street and came to a halt beside Kamal. He stuck his head out the window and asked his friend, "Haven't they come yet?"

He blew the horn three times. Opening the door, he said, "Come sit next to me."

Kamal was content to put the bag inside. He muttered, "Be patient". Then Budur's voice reached him from the garden. Turning in that direction, he saw her advance at a gallop with A'ida trailing behind. Yes, his beloved was approaching, her exquisite figure clad in a stylish short gray dress. A blue silk smock hid the top part of her dress but revealed the girl's pure, bronze forearms. The black halo of her hair encircled the back of her neck and her cheeks and swung with a flowing motion as she walked. The strands of her bangs were plastered to her forehead. In the middle of the black oval there was a face of moonlike beauty, lovely in a way both chic and angelic. It seemed the serene ambassador of the kingdom of happy dreams.

Kamal felt held in place by an overpowering magnetic force. He was in a state between dreaming and waking, conscious only of a sense of gratitude and a pulsing ecstasy. With light prancing steps she approached, like a beautiful melody in bodily form, until she was near enough for him to inhale her Parisian perfume. When their eyes met, a cheerful smile that was temperedy by aristocratic reserve could be detected in her eyes and on her pursed lips. Kamal responded with an anxious grin and a bow of his head.

Husayn told her, "You and Budur sit in the back seat."

Kamal moved to open the rear door of the automobile and stood there at attention like one of the household helps. He was rewarded with a smile and a word of thanks in French. He waited for Budur and his beloved to climb in. Then he closed the door and slipped onto the front seat beside Husayn, who blew the horn once more as he looked toward the mansion. The doorman immediately arrived with a small basket, which he placed next to KamaFs bag in the space between the two young men. Laughingly tapping the basket and the bag, Husayn asked, "What good is an excursion without food?"

As the engine started it emitted a groan of protest. Then the car dashed off along al-Abbasiya Street. Husayn Shaddad was telling Kamal, "I know a lot about you, and today will permit me to add fresh information concerning your stomach. I suspect that despite your slenderness, you're a glutton. Do you think I'm mistaken?"

Smiling and more delighted than one would think humanly possible, Kamal answered, "Wait and see for yourself."

A single automobile was carrying all of them on a shared adventure almost impossible to imagine except in dreams. Kamal could hear his wishes whisper, "If only you were sitting in the back seat and she was in front, your eyes could have watched her all they wanted during the whole trip, free of supervision."

"Don't be greedy and ungrateful," he cautioned himself. "Bow down in praise and thanksgiving. Liberate your head from thought, free yourself from the stream of desires, and devote all your attention to experiencing the present moment. Isn't an hour worth a whole lifetime or even more?"

"I wasn't able to invite Hasan and Isma'il to join us on this excursion."

Kamal did not speak but gave his friend a questioning look. His heart was throbbing with joy and embarrassment at being singled out for this distinction.

Then Husayn continued apologetically: "The car, as you can see., isn't big enough for everyone."

In a faint voice Kamal replied, "That's clear."

Smiling, his friend observed, "When it's necessary to choose, you should pick the person who most resembles you. And there's no doubt that our interests in life are close. Isn't that so?"

Kamal's face reflected the happiness overflowing his heart, and he said, "Of course". Then, laughing, he added, "Except that I'm content with spiritual journeys, whereas it appears that you won't be satisfied until your spiritual trip takes you all around the physical world."

"Don't you long to see the world?"

Kamal thought a little before saying, "It seems to me that I have a natural love of staying put. I flinch at the thought of travel. I mean because of the commotion and upheaval, not because of the sights and the chance to explore. If it were feasible, I would like to have the world parade past while I stand here."

Husayn Shaddad laughed in an endearing way that came straight from his heart. He said, "Stay aloft in a balloon, if you can, and watch the world revolve beneath you."

Kamal savored Husayn's charming laugh for some time. The image of Hasan Salim came to mind, and he compared these two different versions of the aristocracy: one remarkable for charm and cheerfulness, the other characterized by reserve and arrogance. Regardless of these differences, both were distinguished.

Kamal observed, "Fortunately, mental journeys don't require any movement at all."

Husayn Shaddad raised his eyes with apparent skepticism but abandoned the topic. He said joyfully, "What's important for us now is to take a short trip together, united by our tastes, which are so similar."

Before Kamal knew what was happening, a sweet voice behind him said, "In short, Husayn's as fond of you as Budur is."

Perfumed with love and set to music by her angelic voice, this sentence penetrated Kamal's heart and sent him into an inebriated ecstasy. It was like a magical melody emerging suddenly in the middle of a song, rising above customary expectations in an un-imagined way to leave the listener perched between rationality and delirium.

"The beloved is recklessly playing with the vocabulary of love. She sprinkles you with it, little realizing that she is pouring flammable magnesium on a blazing heart". He recalled the sound of her words in order to re-create their resonant love within him. Affection is an ancient melody but seems marvelously fresh in each new rendition. "My God, I'm perishing from an excess of happiness," he thought.

Commenting on his sister's words, Husayn said, "Ai'da's able to translate my thoughts into her special feminine language."

The vehicle sped along to al-Sakakini, then down Queen Nazili Street, followed by Fuad I Street. From there it crossed over the Nile to Zamalek at a speed Kamal thought insane.

"The re are a few clouds in the sky, but we need even more if we're to have a comfortable day at the pyramids."

The miraculous voice was then heard, apparently addressing Budur: "Wait till we get to the pyramids. Then you can sit with him all you want."

Laughing, Husayn asked, "What does Budur want?"

"She desires, my dear sir, to sit with your friend."

" 'Your friend!' Why not say 'Kamal'? Why not grant that name a happiness beyond the aspirations of its owner?"

Husayn told him, "Yesterday Papa heard her ask me, 'Is Uncle Kamal coming with us to the pyramids?' So he wanted to know who Kamal was. When I told him, he asked her, 'Do you want to marry Uncle Kamal?' She told him quite plainly, 'Yes.'"

Kamal looked around, but the little girl had leaned back to hide her face against her sister's shoulder. Before turning his head away, Kamal fortified himself with a fleeting glance at the superb face of his beloved. He said, "If she's serious, she better not forget her promise."

When their automobile reached the Giza road, Husayn accelerated, and the roar of the engine increased so much that no one felt like talking. Kamal welcomed this opportunity to be alone with his thoughts and to enjoy his happiness. The day before, their family h ad discussed him, and the head of the household had suggested he should marry the little girl.

"Oh, what a warbling, flowery happiness! Memorize every word said. Replenish your soul with her Parisian perfume. Stock your ears with these calls of doves and gazelles. Perhaps you will be able to return to these experiences if you're troubled again by sleepless nights. The words of the beloved lack the wisdom of philosophers and the glittering insights of fine authors, and yet they shake you to the core and cause springs of happiness to well up in your heart. This is what makes happiness a mystery baffling the most brilliant minds. All you who breathlessly pursue happiness, I've come across it in a casual remark, a foreign phrase, in silence, and even in nothing at all. My Lord, how huge these giant trees are on both sides of the road! Their lofty branches form a canopy overhead, creating a lush green sky. There's the Nile flowing along with a brilliant coat of pearls supplied by the sun's decorative rays. When did I last see this road? On a trip to the pyramids when I was in the third year of secondary school. Each time I promise myself I'll return here alone. Behind you is sitting the person who has inspired you to see everything in a new way, even the traditional style of life in the ancient quarters of the city. Would you wish for anything beyond your present condition? Yes, for the automobile to continue racing along like this forever. … O Lord! Is this the aspect that always escaped you when you were wondering what you desired from love? The inspiration of the hour has revealed it to you, impossible though that seems. Rejoice in this preordained moment. There are the pyramids, looking small in the distance. Soon we'll stand at the foot of the largest one, like an ant at the base of a towering tree."

"We're going to visit the tomb of one of our original ancestors."

Kamal laughed. "To recite the opening prayer of the Qur'an in his memory in hieroglyphics," he joked.

Husayn remarked ironically, "A nation whose most notable manifestations are tombs and corpses!" Pointing to one of the pyramids, he continued: "Look at all that wasted effort."

Kamal replied enthusiastically, "Immortality!"

"Oh, as usual, you'll spare no effort to defend Egypt. Your patriotism's chronic. We differ in this. I might actually prefer to be in France instead of Egypt."

Hiding his pain behind a tender smile, Kamal answered, "There you'll find that the French are one of the most patriotic nations in the world."

"Yes, patriotism is an international disease. But I love France itself and I admire qualities of the French people unrelated to nationalism."

This kind of talk really saddened Kamal, but it did not cause resentment, since it came from Husayn Shaddad. He occasionally became vexed with Isma'il Latif on account of his arrogance. Hasan Salim angered Kamal at times with his haughtiness. But Husayn Shaddad always met with KamaFs approval, no matter what.

The automobile stopped near the foot of the great pyramid and at the end of a long line of empty vehicles. Many people could be seen here and there scattered in small groups. Some were riding donkeys or camels and others were climbing the pyramid. There were also the vendors and the donkey and camel drivers. The expanse of land seemed vast and limitless, but the pyramid shot up in the center like a legendary giant. On the far side, beyond the downward-sloping plateau, the city of Cairo was visible with the tops of its trees, a thread of water, and the roofs of its large buildings. Where were Palace Walk and Kamal's ancient house in all of that? Where was his mother, who would be putting out water for the chickens now, near the jasmine arbor?

"Let's leave everything in the car, so we'll be free to scout around."

They got out of the automobile and set off in single file: A'ida, Husayn., Budur, and finally Kamal, who was holding his young friend's hand. They walked around the great pyramid, admiring it from every direction. Then they went into the desert. The sand made it hard to walk and hindered their progress, but the refreshing breeze blew gently. The sun alternately hid and reappeared. Clusters of clouds spread along the horizons, sketching on the celestial canvas spontaneous pictures, which the hand of the wind altered at will.

Filling his lungs with the air, Husayn exclaimed, "Beautiful! Beautiful..."

A'ida said something unintelligible in French. Kamal with his limited knowledge of that language assumed that she was translating her brother's comment. Using foreign words was a common practice for her, one that softened his extreme identification with the national tongue, Arabic, and imposed itself on his taste as a characteristic of feminine beauty.

Looking at everything around him, Kamal was moved and said, "Truly beautiful, praise to God Almighty."

Laughing, Husayn commented, "You always find God or Sa'd Zaghlul in everything."

"I think we have no quarrel concerning the first of those two."

"But your insistence on mentioning Him gives you an especially religious flavor, as though you were a scholar of religion". Then, in a tone of surrender, he continued: "What's strange about that since you're from a religious district?"

Was there any sarcasm lurking behind this statement? Was it possible that Ai'da felt the same way? What did they really think of the ancient Islamic district at the heart of Cairo? How did residents of al-Abbasiya view Palace Walk and al-Nahhasin?

"Should you be embarrassed?" Kamal wondered. "Not so fast…. Husayn demonstrates scarcely any interest in religion and the beloved even less. Didn't she say once that she attends classes in Christianity at Mere de Dieu School, goes to mass, and sings their hymns? But she's a Muslim! A Muslim despite the fact that she knows nothing worth mentioning about Islam…. What do you think of this? I love her, I love her to the point of devotion. Despite the pricking of my conscience, I confess that I love her religion, while asking forgiveness from my Lord."

Husayn gestured toward the beauty and splendor surrounding them. Then he said, "This is what really attracts me. You're wildly patriotic, but compare the splendors of nature with demonstrations, Sa'd Zaghlul and Adli, and trucks packed with soldiers."

Smiling, Kamal replied, "Both nature and politics are splendid."

As though the association of ideas reminded him of an important event, Husayn said suddenly, "I almost forgot. Your leader has resigned". Kamal's only response was a sad smile.

Intending to provoke him, Husayn said, "He resigned after losing both the Sudan and the constitution. Isn't that so?"

With a calm attributable solely to the company in which he found himself, Kamal answered, "The assassination of Sir Lee Stack Pasha was a blow directed at Sa'd's government…."

"Let me repeat for you what Hasan Salim said: 'This attack is a manifestation of the hatred that some people, including the killers, harbor for the English. Sa'd Zaghlul is more responsible than anyone else for inciting this hatred.'"

Kamal suppressed the rage ignited within him by Hasan Salim's opinion. With the composure mandatory when he was in the presence of his beloved he said, "This is the English view. Haven't you read the telegrams printed in the newspaper, in al-Ahram? No wonder the Liberal Constitutionalists are repeating it. One of Sa'd's proudest achievements is that he aroused hostility against the English."

With a look of criticism or warning in her eyes and a fetching smile, Ai'da intervened to ask, "Are we here to picnic or to politick?"

Kamal gestured toward Husayn as he said apologetically, "There's the one responsible for bringing up this subject."

Laughing and combing his silky black hair with his slender lingers, Husayn said, "I thought I'd offer you my condolences for the resignation of your leader. That's all there is to it". Then he asked in a serious tone, "Didn't you take part in the momentous demonstrations that erupted in your district during the revolutionary iara?"

"I was too young!"

In a voice not free of gentle irony, Husayn observed, "In any case, the way you hid in that pastry shop during a demonstration must be considered participation in the revolution."

They all laughed. Even Budur imitated the others. Their quartet was composed of two horns, a violin, and a whistle. After a momem: of silence, as though coming to Kamal's defense, Ai'da said, "It's enough that he lost his brother."

Feeling pride pulsing through his heart because of their sympathy, Kamal said, "Yes, we lost the best of our family."

She asked with interest, "He was in Law School; isn't that so? How old would he be if he were alive today?"

"He'd be twenty-five…". Then he continued in a mournful voice: "He was a genius in every sense of the word."

Cracking his knuckles, Husayn said, "Was! This is what you reap from patriotism. How can you cling to it after that?"

Smiling, Kamal said, "The time will come when we're all referred to in the past tense. But what a difference there is between one form of death and another!"

Husayn cracked his knuckles once more without comment. Kamal's words seemed to mean nothing to him. What had made them discuss politics? It was not fun anymore. Partisan hostilities distracted people from the English. Down with all of it! A person who had caught a whiff of paradise should not trouble himself with terrestrial cares, not even momentarily.

"You're walking with Ai'da in the desert near the pyramids. Ponder this ravishing fact and shout it aloud until the pyramid buildershear you. The beloved and her suitor are strolling together over the sand. The lover's rapture is so intense that the breeze might almost carry him off, while the beloved amusesherself by counting pebbles. If love's malady were contagious, I would not mind the pain. The wind is agitating the fringes of her dress, raking the halo of her hair, and penetrating her lungs. How fortunate it is! Spirits of lovers who float over the pyramid, bless this procession. They admire the beloved and pity the lover. They repeat with the voice of time the phrase: 'Nothing save love is stronger than death.' You see her but a few feet from you. Yet in truth she's as far removed as the horizons, which you imagine touching the earth, even though they are part of the sky and soar high overhead. How my soul wishes I could feel her touch on this excursion, but it seems you'll journey through this earthly existence before you experience that. Why aren't you courageous enough to throw yourself on the sand and kiss her footprints? Take a handful of sand from them for use in an amulet to ward off the pains of love during thought-filled nights. But alas! Everything indicates that the only contact with the beloved will be through singing hymns of praise or via insanity. So sing your psalms or go insane."

He felt a small hand tug at his. He looked down at Budur, who held her arms up to him, asking to be carried. He leaned over and lifted her, but A'ida protested: "No. It seems fatigue's getting the best of us. Let's rest a little."

On a boulder at the top of the slope leading to the Sphinx they sat down in the same order they had observed while walking. Husayn stretched his legs out and planted hisheels firmly in the sand. Kamal sat with his legs crossed, holding Budur beside him. A'ida, seated to the left of her brother, took out her comb, which she ran through her hair. Then she smoothed her bangs with her fingers.

Husayn happened to notice Kamal's fez and asked his friend critically, "Why are you wearing a fez on this outing?"

Kamal removed it and placed it on his lap, saying, "I'm not used to going anywhere without it."

Husayn laughed and said, "You're a fine example of a conservative!"

Kamal wondered whether he was being praised or faulted and wished to force his friend to clarify the point, but A'ida leaned forward a little and turned toward Kamal to have a look at his head. He forgot what he was up to and anxiously concentrated all his attention on his own head. Now that it was bare, its huge size was obvious, and his short cropped hair, free of any attempt at styling, was exposed. Her beautiful eyes were gazing at him. What impression did he make on her?

The musical voice asked, "Why don't you let your hair grow out?"

It was a question he had never considered before. Fuad Jamil al-Hamzawi had his hair cut just like his and so did all their comrades in the ancient quarter. Yasin had not been seen with hair long enough to brush or a mustache until he had found employment. Could Kamal imagine encountering his father every morning at the breakfast table with long hair?

"Why should I?"

Husayn asked thoughtfully, "Wouldn't it look better?"

"That doesn't matter."

Laughing, Husayn commented, "It seems to me that you were made to be a teacher."

"Praise or blame?" Kamal wondered. "In any case, your head's to be congratulated for receiving thisheavenly attention."

"I was. created to be a student."

"Good answer…". Then, with a rising inflection of voice to show he was asking a question, Husayn continued: "You haven't told me the whole story of the Teachers College yet. What do you think of it after almost two months?"

"I hope it will be a serviceable introduction to the world I desire. I'm currently trying to learn the meaning of difficult words like 'literature,'

'philosophy,' and 'thought' from the English professors."

"This is the cultural discipline we want…."

Kamal answered apprehensively, "But it seems human culture is a stormy ocean. We need to know the limits. We must learn more clearly what we want. It's a problem…."

Husavn's interest was apparent in his handsome eyes. He said, "For me, there's no problem. I read French stories and plays, with some help from A'ida to understand the difficult passages. I also listen with her to selections from Western music, some of which she plays expertly on the piano. Recently I've been reading a book that summarizes Greek philosophy in an easy way. All I want is mental and physical forms of tourism, but you also wish to write. That forces you to learn boundaries and goals."

"The worst part is that I don't know exactly what I'm going to write about."

A'ida asked pleasantly, "Do you want to be an author?"

Swept by a tidal wave of happiness rarely experienced by human beings, Kamal answered, "Perhaps."

"Poetry or prose?" Then, leaning forward so she could observe him, she added, "Let me see if I can tell by looking at you."

"I've exhausted all the resources of poetry in my intimate exchanges with your dream vision," he reflected. "Poetry is your sacred tongue. I won't try to make a living from it. My tears have drained its wells during dark nights. How happy I am to have you look at me … and how wretched! I revive under your gaze like the earth, which burgeons with life when the sun shines down on it."

"A poet. Yes, you're a poet."

"Really? How do you know?"

She sat up straight, and a laugh like a whisper escaped from her. She replied, "Physiognomy is too instinctive a science to be explained."

"She's bluffing!" Husayn said, laughing.

She retorted, "Not at all. If you don't like the idea of being a poet then don't be one."

"Nature has made the female bee a queen," Kamal reflected. "The orchard is her palace. The flower's nectar is her drink. Honey is her product. And the reward earned by a person passing her throne is… a sting. But she denied Husayn's accusation."

She had another question for him: "Have you read any French stories?"

"Some by Michel Zevaco, in translation. You know I can't read French."

She said enthusiastically, "You won't be an author until you master French. Read Balzac, George Sand, Madame de Stael, and Pierre Loti. After that write your story."

Kamal said disapprovingly, "A story? That's a rather marginal art form. I aspire to do serious work."

Husayn said earnestly, "In Europe the story is considered a serious art form. Some writers there concentrate on it to the exclusion of all other types of writing. This is the way they've achieved the status of immortals. I'm not throwing praise around blindly. The French professor confirmed that."

Kamal shook his large head skeptically, and Husayn resumed speaking: "Be careful not to make Ai'da angry. She's a reader who delights in French stories. In fact, she's one of their heroines."

Kamal leaned over a little to observe her reaction to Husayn's comment, seizing this opportunity to fill his eyes with the gorgeous sight. Then he asked, "How did that happen?"

"She gets all caught up in the stories, and her head is crammed with an imaginary life. Once I saw her strutting in front of a mirror. When I asked her what she was doing, she said, 'Aphrodite used to walk like this along the beach at Alexandria.'"

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."

Hugging 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 his heart 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."

"What 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 his heart 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 with 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's heart 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."

Kamal answered delightedly, "Death to anyone who thinks ill of you."

They ate with great appetite, Husayn and Ai'da first. Then Kamal, encouraged by watching them, followed suit. He served Budur her food himself. She was content with one sandwich and a piece of chicken breast. Then she turned her attention to the fruit. Kamal could not resist the temptation to observe Husayn and Aida surreptitiously as they ate, in order to see how they handled their food. Oblivious to his surroundings, Husayn devoured his food as though he were alone. Even so, he did not lose his distinguished air and thus represented in Kamal's eyes the beloved aristocracy acting spontaneously. Ai'da revealed new dimensions of elegance, grace, and refinement whether in cutting the meat, in grasping the sandwiches by the tips of her fingers, or in the movements of her lips as she chewed. All this took place in an easy, relaxed manner, without any affectation or embarrassment. The truth was that Kamal bad been looking forward to this moment expectantly and inci edulously, as though skeptical that she ate food like other human beings. Although his knowledge of the type of food she was consuming troubled his religious sensibilities greatly, he found in its novel and unusual nature, compared with what people he knew ate, a parallel to the eater herself, and thishelped calm his questioning, perplexed imagination. Two contradictory feelings alternated within him. At first he was uneasy to see her undertake this activity in which both men and animals share. Then he felt somewhat relieved, since this activity brought the two of them closer together, if only a little. But he was still not free of questions. He was forced to wonder whether she also participated in other natural human functions. He could not deny that, but it was hard for him to accept. Therefore he refused to answer, although he experienced a sensation he had not known previously, one containing a silent protest against the laws of nature.

"I admire your feeling for religion and your moral idealism."

Kamal looked at his friend cautiously and suspiciously. So Husayn affirmed, "I'm speaking sincerely, not making a joke."

Kamal smiled shyly. Then he pointed at the remaining sandwiches and beer as he said, "Despite all this, your celebrations in the month of Ramadan are beyond description. Lights are lit, the Qur'an is recited in the reception hall, the call to prayer rings out in the gentlemen's parlor. Isn't that so?"

"My father celebrates the nights of Ramadan out of love, respect, and veneration for the traditions my grandfather observed. He and Mama are also scrupulous about fasting."

Ai'da said with a smile, "I am too."

With an earnestnesshe meant to be sarcastic Husayn said, "Ai'da fasts one day out of the whole month and sometimes gives up by afternoon."

A'ida retorted in revenge, "Instead of fasting, Husayn eats four meals a day during Ramadan: the three normal ones and then the meal before daybreak reserved for fasters."

Husayn laughed, and food would have fallen from his mouth if he had not reared his head back quickly. He said, "Isn't it strange that we know so little of our religion? What Papa and Mama know about it is hardly worth mentioning. Our nurse was Greek. A'ida knows more about Christianity and its rituals than she does about Islam. Compared with you we can be considered pagans". Then, addressing A'ida, he added, "Kamal reads the Qur'an and works about the life of the Prophet."

In a tone giving a hint of admiration she said, "Really? Bravo! But don't think any worse of me than is absolutely necessary, for I've memorized more than one Qur'an sura."

Kamal murmured dreamily, "Marvelous, extremely marvelous. Which one, for example?"

She stopped eating to try to remember. Then with a smile she replied, "I mean I used to know some chapters by heart. I'm not sure how much I've retained…". Then, raising her voice as though she had found what she was searching for, she continued: "Like the sura which speaks of God's unity and so forth."

Kamal smiled, since the sura she referred to, number one hundred twelve, had only four verses. He handed her a piece of chicken breast, which she took gratefully, although she confessed she was eating more than she normally would.

She said, "If people ate all their meals at picnics, no one would be slender anymore."

Kamal said hesitantly, "The women in my part of town don't want to be slim."

Husayn agreed with him and commented, "Mama herself feels that way, but A'ida considersherself a Parisian."

"God forgive my beloved her scorn," Kamal brooded. "Like the skeptical notions you read, she deeply troubles your believing soul. But will you be able to confront your beloved's scorn for Egypt and Islam with the same criticism and anger you employed against those skeptical ideas? Of course not! Your soul harbors nothing but the purest love for her. You love even her defects. Defects! She has no defects, even if she makes light of religion and does things it forbids. In someone else, those would be defects. What I fear most is that from now on no beautiful woman will be able to please me unless she takes her religion lightly and performs forbidden acts. Does that make you apprehensive? Ask God's forgiveness for yourself and for her. Say that it is all amazing, as amazing as the Sphinx. How much your love and the Sphinx resemble each other. Each of them is an eternal riddle."

A'ida emptied what was left from the thermos into the fourth glass. Then she asked Kamal seductively, "Won't you change your mind? It's just a refreshing drink…."

He smiled with apologetic thanks. Husayn grabbed the glass and raised it 1 o his mouth, saying, "Me instead of Kamal". With a moan he continued: "We've got to stop or we'll die of overeating."

When they concluded their meal, only half a chicken and three sandwiches remained. Kamal, who thought he would distribute the leftovers among the young boys prowling about, saw A'ida put her sandwiches back in the basket along with the glasses and thermos and felt obliged to return the rest of his food to the bag. He happened to recall Isma'il Latif's comments about the parsimonious spirit of the Shaddad family.

Husayn jumped to the ground and said, "We have a pleasant surprise for you. We've brought a phonograph and some records to help our digestion. You'll hear some European music selected by A'ida and also Egyptian pieces like 'Guess What,'

'After Dinner,' and 'Turn Aside Here.' What do you think of this surprise?"