Palace of Desire

90

Hasan and Kamal left the mansion of the Shaddad family around ipm. Kamal was going to say goodbye to his friend in front of the gate, but Hasan asked, "Won't you walk a little with me?"

His invitation willingly accepted, Hasan, whose head barely reached his friend's shoulder, set off along Palaces Street with the lanky Kamal, who wondered what the purpose was, especially since the hour was more suitable for dining and resting than a stroll. Before he knew what was happening, Hasan had turned to ask him, "What were you talking about?"

Although the question only increased his curiosity, he answered, "Different subjects as usual… politics, culture, and so on."

It was a genuine surprise when Hasan said in his calm, level voice, "I mean you and A'ida."

Kamal was astonished. Seconds passed without his attempting to reply. Then gaining control of himself he asked, "How did you know? You weren't there?"

Without any change of expression, Hasan Salim said, "I arrived while you were talking. It seemed best to leave so I wouldn't interrupt your conversation."

Kamal wondered whether he would have done the same thing if he had found himself in Hasan's position. He felt even more perplexed, sensing that he was on the verge of an animated conversation with many ramifications. "I don't know why you felt you should go off," he said. "If I had noticed, I wouldn't have let you."

"There are standards of polite behavior. I admit I'm very sensitive in this regard."

"Aristocratic etiquette!" Kamal told himself. "How alien it seems!"

"Excuse me," Kamal said, "if I tell you frankly that you're being overly meticulous."

Hasan's delicate smile tarried on his lips for only a second. He seemed to be waiting for something. When the wait became too long he asked, "Yes? What were you talking about?"

How could refined manners sanction such an interrogation? Kamal briefly considered asking Hasan this but elected to use an approach more compatible with his respect for the young man. This respect was based more on Hasan's personality than on their difference in age. Thus he continued: "The matter's too simple to warrant all this, but I wonder how much I'm obliged to say."

Hasan was quick to respond apologetically, "I hope you won't think I'm intruding or poking my nose into your personal affairs. I have reasons that justify my asking this question. I'll tell you things I haven't had occasion to mention before. All the same, counting on our friendship, I believed you wouldn't be offended by my question. I hope you won't misinterpret it."

The tension was eased. Kamal was pleased to hear tender words of this kind from Hasan Salim, the person he had long considered a shining example of aristocracy, nobility, and grandeur. In addition, he was even more eager than Hasan to enjoy an elevated conversation about anything related to his beloved. If it had been Isma'il Latif asking the question, the issue would not have required so much hemming and hawing over what was or was not necessary and was or was not proper. Kamal would have told him everything, a:; they laughed. But Hasan Salim never dropped his reserve and did not confuse friendship with intimacy. So there was nothing wrong in letting him pay the price for his reserve.

"Thanks for your good opinion of me," Kamal replied. "You can be sure that if there were anything worth telling I would not keep it from you. We just talked for a short time about some ordinary matters. That's all there was to it. But you've aroused my curiosity. May I ask you, if only to expand my horizons, what reasons justify your inquiry? I won't insist, naturally. In fact, I'm prepared to withdraw my question if it's inappropriate."

With customary calm and moderation, Hasan Salim said, "I'll answer your question but ask you to wait a little. It seems you don't care to brief me on your talk with her. And this is no doubt your right. I don't consider it an offense against the duties of friendship. But I would like to direct your attention to the fact that many are misled by Aida's words and interpret them in a manner bearing no relationship to reality. For this reason, they cause themselves unnecessary problems."

"Go ahead and spit it out, Hasan," Kamal wished. "There are portents of foul weather in the air. A whirlwind's going to carry off the remnants of your stricken heart. You're the one who's been deceived, my friend. Don't you know that nothing but modesty keeps me from telling you everything? If it makes you feel any better, go ahead and strike me with your thunderbolts."

"I haven't understood a single thing you've said," Kamal protested.

Hasan raised his voice a little to explain: "The most gracious expressions flow easily and freely from her. A young man listening to her words assumes that she attaches some special significance to them or that they are prompted by some measure of affection. But they're nothing but pretty phrases she addresses to anyone she's conversing with, privately or in public. Thus many people have been duped…."

"The cat's out of the bag," Kamal reflected. "Your friend's been afflicted by the same malady that has broken you. But who is he to claim he knows the most secret mysteries? He really makes me mad!"

Smiling and pretending to be unperturbed, Kamal said, "You seem very confident of what you're saying."

"I know A'ida extremely well. We've been neighbors for a long time."

The name he was too awestruck to use in secret, let alone to mention to others, had been pronounced carelessly by this infatuated young man, as though it belonged to some member of the swarming masses. This daring of Hasan's lowered him several notches in Kamal's heart while raising the young man by as many in his imagination. The sentence "We've been neighbors for a long time" plunged into Kamal's heart like a dagger, for it excluded him from serious consideration as effectively as distance does a traveler.

In a polite tone but with ironic insinuation, Kamal asked Hasan, "Isn't it possible that you've been deceived like the rest?"

Hasan drew his head back haughtily and said with great certainty, "I'm not like the others!"

How Hasan's arrogance infuriated him…. How angry Kamal was at the good looks and self-confidence of this coddled son of the eminent superior court judge whose rulings in political cases were suspect…. A "ha" escaped from Hasan, like the tail end of a laugh, although there was nothing in his look to suggest amusement. It was his way of preparing for a change from a haughty voice to a more gracious tone.

"She'?; an exceptional girl," he said, "without a flaw, although occasionally her appearance, conversation, and amiable nature leave her open to suspicions."

Kamal was quick to respond enthusiastically, "In both appearance and reality she's beyond criticism."

Hasan bowed his head gratefully as though to say, "Well done". Then he remarked, "That's what anyone with sound judgment and insight must see. Yet there are matters that have troubled a few minds. To make myself clear I'll cite examples. People misconstrue the fact that she visits in the garden with friends of her brother Husayn, thus challenging our cultural traditions. Some question her practice of conversing with these young men and befriending them. Still others fancifully imagine that there must be a weighty secret behind her innocent custom of pleasantly trading jokes with them. Do you get my meaning?"

With the same enthusiasm as before Kamal said, "Naturally I understand what you mean, but I fear your suspicions are exaggerated. I mean I've never been suspicious of any of her actions. Her conversation and little jokes are obviously innocent. Moreover, she did not receive a totally Egyptian upbringing. So she shouldn't be expected to observe all our traditions and shouldn't be blamed for deviating from them. I suspect that's what the others think too."

Hasan shook his head as though wishing he believed Kamal's opinion of their friends. Kamal did not bother to comment on Hasan's silent observation. He was happy with his defense of his beloved and delighted by the opportunity to declare his belief in her chastity and innocence. It was true that his enthusiasm was insincere, but not because he harbored reservations he was hesitant to make public. He had long believed his beloved was beyond suspicion. Yet he lamented his happy dreams based on the assumption that there was a secret meaning behind her jests and delicate hints. Hasan was banishing those dreams, much as the lecently concluded conversation in the gazebo had. Although Kamal's wounded heart was struggling secretly to cling to them, if only by a slender thread, he went along with Hasan Salim publicly, accepting his friend's opinion in order to cover his own tracks, conceal his sense of defeat, and demolish his rival's claim to be the authority on the beloved's true nature.

Hasan continued: "It's not surprising that you should understand, for you're a bright young man. As you said, the fact is that A'ida's innocent, but excuse me if I tell you frankly about a trait that may seem peculiar to you. Perhaps it's her own fault to a great degree if she's misunderstood.1 refer to her penchant for being the 'dream girl' of all the young men she meets. Don't forget that it's innocent. I tell you I've never encountered a girl more protective of her honor than she is. But she's crazy about reading French novels, frequently refers to their heroines, and has her head filled with an imaginary world."

Kamal smiled to reassure him, wishing to suggest in this fashion that he was hearing nothing new. Then driven by a desire to provoke Hasan, he said, "I learned this some time ago when we had a conversation — she, Husayn, and I — on this very subject."

He was finally able to make Hasan abandon his aristocratic composure. Hasan's face showed his astonishment, as he asked with apparent alarm, "When was that? I don't remember being present! Did someone tell Ai'da she wanted to be everyone's 'dream girl'?"

With victorious relief, Kamal gazed at the changes affecting his friend. Afraid of carrying it too far, he said cautiously, "That wasn't mentioned in so many words but was implied during a conversation about her infatuation with French novels and her immersion in the world of the imagination."

Regaining his calm and equilibrium, Hasan was silent for a time, as though attempting to collect his thoughts, which Kamal had momentarily succeeded in scattering. He seemed hesitant. Eventually Kamal realized that Hasan wanted to know everything about his conversation with Ai'da and Husayn. When had it occurred? What had made them discuss those sensitive topics? Would he spell out exactly what had been said?

But Hasan's pride restrained him from asking. At last he said, "So you can vouch for the accuracy of my view. Unfortunately many people do not understand A'ida's conduct the way you do. They don't comprehend the important truth that she loves a person's love for her, not that person."

"If the fool knew what had actually happened," Kamal thought, "he wouldn't waste all this effort. Doesn't he know I don't even aspire to have her love my love? Look at my head and nose. Reassure yourself! "

In a voice not free of sarcasm Kamal said, " 'She loves a person's love for her, not that person' what a philosophy!"

"It's the truth, and I'm certain of it."

"But you can't know for certain that this is always the case."

"Yes, I can, even with my eyes closed."

Falling prey to his sorrow, Kamal asked with sham astonishment, 'Can you be sure that she does not love one person or another?"

Confidently and contentedly Hasan replied, "I can confirm with total certainty that she does not love any of the men who occasionally imagine she does."

"Only two types of people have a right to speak with such confidence," Kamal reflected, "the believer and the fool. And he's no fool. There's nothing new in what you're hearing. So why does it hurt? The truth is that I've felt enough pain today for a full year of love."

"But you can't prove she doesn't love anyone."

"I didn't say that."

Kamal looked at him as though consulting a diviner and then asked, "So you know she's in love?"

Nodding his head in agreement, Hasan said, "I invited you on this walk to tell you."

Kamal's heart sank in his chest — as though in attempting to flee from pain it had drowned in pain's waves. Until then he had suffered because it was impossible for her to love. Now his tormentor was affirming that she was in love, that the beloved loved, that her angelic heart was subject to the laws of passion, affection, desire, and longing — all directed at one individual. Of course, his intellect, but not his emotions, had occasionally allowed for that possibility, but in the way it accepted death — as an abstract thought, not a cold reality affecting his own body or that of a loved one. For this reason the news took him by surprise, as if the concept and its actual existence were being revealed to him at the same time.

"Reflect on these realities," he counseled himself. "Admit that there are pains in this world you never imagined, despite your expertise in pain."

Hasan continued: "I told you at the beginning that I have my reasons for this conversation with you. Otherwise I wouldn't have intruded into your personal affairs."

He would be consumed by the sacred fire to the last speck of ash.

"I'm sure that's true. I'm interested to hear what you have to say."

Hasan's feeble smile revealed that he was hesitant to utter the decisive words. So Kamal tried to be patient but finally, although his heart dimly perceived the distressing truth, he prodded his friend: "You said you know she's in love…."

Flinging off hishesitation, Hasan said, "Yes. Our relationship gives me a right to assert this."

"Aida's in love, O celestial realms. The strings of your heart contract to accompany a dirge. Does her heart harbor the same feelings for this happy young man that yours does for her? If this truly were possible, the best thing would be for the world to burst asunder. Your companion isn't lying, for handsome young men from distinguished families don't lie. The most you can hope for is that her love is of a different kind than yours. If this catastrophe is inevitable, it's some consolation that Hasan's the one. It's also comforting to find that sorrow and jealousy do not blot out the reality standing before you — this wealthy, enchanting, marvelous fellow."

As though pressing the trigger of a revolver he knew was empty, he remarked, "You seem extremely confident that she's in love this time with the person himself, not with his love for her."

Another "ha" escaped from Hasan to express his certainty. He glanced swiftly at Kamal to see if he was convinced. Then he said, "Our conversation — mine and hers — was definitely not a talk that could be understood in more than one manner."

"What kind of conversation was it?" Kamal wondered. "I'd trade my whole life for a single word of it. I've learned the truth and am quaffing the torment down to the dregs. Do you suppose he heard the ravishing voice tell him, love you'? Did she say it in French or in Arabic? The fires of hell burn with torment like this."

He said calmly, "I congratulate you. It seems to me that each of you is truly worthy of the other."

"Thanks."

"But I wonder what prompted you to reveal this precious secret."

Hasan raised his eyebrows as he said, "When I discovered you talking together, I was afraid you might be taken in, like many others, by some statement of hers. So I decided to tell you the truth quite candidly, because I hated for you of all people to be deceived."

"Thank you," murmured Kamal, moved by the lofty sentiments of the gifted young man whom Ai'da loved and who had hated to let Kamal be deceived and therefore had slain him with the truth. Was it not possible that jealousy had been among the motives inducing Hasan to tell Kamal his secret? But had he no eyes to see Kamal's head and nose?

Hasan picked up the conversation again: "She and her mother frequently visit our residence. Then we have opportunities to talk."

"Alone?" This question slipped out unconsciously, and he regretted it. Feeling uneasy, he blushed.

Hasan replied quite simply, "At times."

How he wished he could see her in this role, that of a woman in love. He had never imagined it in his wildest dreams. What did the glow of passion and affection look like in her dark eyes, which cast him patronizing glances? Although fatal to the heart, it would be a vision to light up the mind with a firebrand of sacred truth justifying an eternal curse on any skeptic.

"Your spirit flutters like a trapped bird wishing to fly free. The wodd is a crossroads of ruins. It would be pleasant to leave it. But even if you're certain their lips have met in a rose-red kiss, you can look forward to the pleasure of absolute freedom in the whirlpool of madness."

Driven by a suicidal desire he could no more resist than understand, he asked, "How can you agree then to let her mingle with Husayn's friends?"

Hasan hesitated a little before replying, "Perhaps I'm not totally comfortable with it, but I find no real reason to take offense. She's always in full view of her brother and all the others. Then there's her European upbringing. I concede that I've occasionally thought of mentioning my annoyance to her, but I'd hate to have her accuse me of jealousy. She'd love to make me jealous! Naturally you know about these feminine wiles. I'll admit I don't relish them."

"No wonder," mused Kamal, "that the demonstration of the earth's revolution on an axis and around the sun swept myths away and left people feeling dizzy."

"As though she's deliberately baiting you," he said.

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."