Palace Walk

15

That evening al-Sayyid Ahmad closed his store and set off surrounded by respectful glances and diffusing a pleasant fragrance. He proceeded to the Goldsmiths Bazaar and from there to al-Ghuriya till he reached al-Sayyid Ali’s coffee shop. As he passed it, he looked at the singer’s house and the adjoining buildings. He observed that the string of shops on both sides of it were still open and that the flow of pedestrian traffic was at its height. He continued on to a friend’s house, where he passed an hour. Then he excused himself and returned to al-Ghuriya, which was engulfed in darkness and almost deserted.

Confident and relaxed, he approached the house. He knocked on the door and waited, looking carefully at everything around him. The only light came from the window of al-Sayyid Ali’s coffee shop and from a kerosene lamp on a handcart at the corner of New Street. The door opened and the form of a young servant girl could be seen. Without any hesitation, in order to inspire in the girl trust and confidence, he asked her in a forceful voice, "Is Madam Zubayda at home?"

The girl looked up at him and asked with the reserve her job required, "Who are you, sir?"

He responded determinedly, "A person who wishes to reach an agreement with her for an evening’s entertainment".

The girl was gone for some minutes before returning to invite him in. She stepped aside to allow him to enter. He followed her up the narrow steps of the staircase to a hallway. She opened the door facing him, and he passed through it into a darkened room. He stood there near the entrance, listening to her footsteps as she ran to fetch a lamp. He watched her place it on a table. She moved a chair to the center of the room to stand on while she lit the large lamp hanging from the ceiling. Then she put the chair back where it belonged. She took the small lamp and left the room, saying politely, "Please have a seat, sir".

He went over to a sofa at the front of the room and sat there confidently and calmly, demonstrating that he was accustomed to situations like this and certain the results would be to his liking. He removed his fez and placed it on a cushion at the center of the sofa. He stretched his legs out and made himself comfortable. He saw a room of medium size with sofas and chairs arranged around the sides. The floor was covered with a Persian carpet. In front of each of the three large sofas stood a serving table inlaid with mother-of-pearl. The windows and door were hung with curtains that prevented the aroma of incense he enjoyed from escaping. He amused himself by watching a moth flutter nervously and eagerly around the lamp. While he waited, the servant brought him coffee. It was some time before he heard the rhythmic thump of slippers striking the floor.

He became fully alert and stared at the opening of the door, which was immediately filled by the prodigious body, its pronounced curves sensuously draped in a blue dress. The moment the woman’s eyes fell on him she stopped in astonishment and shouted, "In the name of God, the Compassionate, the Merciful!.. You!"

His eyes ran over her body as quickly and greedily as a mouse on a sack of rice looking for a place to get in. He said admiringly, "In the name of God. God’s will be done".

After her pause, she continued to advance, smiling. She said with pretended fear, "Your eye! God protect me from it".

Al-Sayyid Ahmad rose to take her outstretched hand. Sniffing the fragrant incense with his enormous nose, he asked, "Are you afraid of an envious eye even when protected by this incense?"

She freed her hand from his and stepped back to sit on one of the side couches. She replied, "My incense is a boon and a blessing. It’s a mixture of various kinds, some Arab and some Indian that I blend myself. It’s capable of ridding the body of a thousand and one jinn".

He sat down again and said, waving his hands in despair, "But not my body. My body has a jinni of a different sort. Incense doesn't do any good with him. The matter is more severe and dangerous".

The woman struck her chest like a heaving water skin and shouted, "But I perform at weddings, not exorcisms".

He said hopefully, "We'll see if you have a remedy for what ails me".

They were silent for a time. The sultana started to look at him somewhat reflectively, as though trying to discern the secret of his visit and whether he really had come to ask her to perform at a party, as he had told the servant. Her curiosity got the better of her and she asked, "A wedding or a circumcision?"

Smiling he replied, "Whichever you wish".

"Do you have an us circumcised boy or a bridegroom?"

"I've got everything".

She gave him a warning look as if to say, "How tiresome you are!" Then she muttered sarcastically, "We'll be happy to serve you, whatever it happens to be".

Al-Sayyid Ahmad raised his hands to the top of his head in a gesture of thanks. He said with a gravity that belied his intentions, "God bless you! All the same, I'm still determined to leave the choice to you".

She sighed with a rage that was half humorous and replied, "I prefer weddings, of course".

"But I'm a married man. I don't need any more wedding processions".

She yelled at him, "What a joker you are… Then let it be a circumcision".

"So be it".

She asked cautiously, "Your son?"

Twisting his mustache, he answered simply, "Me".

The sultana let out a flowing laugh. She decided to stop thinking about the question of an evening performance. She guessed what kind of performance it would be. She shouted at him, "What a crafty man you are. If my arm were long enough I'd break your back".

He rose and approached, saying, "I won't deprive you of anything you want". He sat down beside her. She started to hit him but hesitated and then stopped. He asked her anxiously, "Why don't you honor me with a beating?"

She shook her head and replied scornfully, "I'm afraid I would have to repeat my ritual ablutions".

He asked longingly, "May I hope we can pray together?" He privately asked God’s forgiveness as soon as he had made this joke. Although there were no limits to his impudence when he was intoxicated by his sense of humor, his heart was always troubled and uneasy until he secretly and sincerely asked God’s forgiveness for the humorous excesses of his tongue.

The woman asked with ironic coquetry, "Do you mean, reverend sir, the kind of prayer the muezzin says is better than sleep?"

"No, prayer which is a form of sleep".

She could not keep herself from saying with a laugh, "What a man you are! On the outside you are dignified and pious, but inside you're licentious and debauched. Now I really believe what I was told about you".

Al-Sayyid Ahmad sat up with interest and asked, "What were you told?… May God spare us the evil of what people say".

"They told me you're a womanizer and a heavy drinker".

He sighed audibly in relief and commented, "I thought it would be criticism of some fault, thank God".

"Didn't I tell you you're a crafty sinner?"

"Here’s the evidence, then, that I've won your acceptance, God willing".

The woman raised her head haughtily and replied, "Keep your distance… I'm not like the women you've had. Zubayda is known, if I do say so myself, for her self-respect and good taste".

The man raised his hands to his chest and looked at her in a way both challenging and gentle. He remarked calmly, "It’s when a man is tested that he’s honored or despised".

"How come you're so cocky when, according to you, you haven't even been circumcised yet?"

Al-Sayyid Ahmad laughed loudly for a long time. Then he said, "You don't believe me, you circumciser. Well, if you're in doubt…"

She punched him in the shoulder before he could finish his sentence. He stopped talking, and then they burst out laughing together. He was happy she laughed along with him. He surmised that, given both the veiled and open remarks that had passed between them, her laughter constituted an announcement of her consent. The flirtatious smile, visible in her eyes with their shadow of kohl, served to confirm this idea in his mind. He thought he would greet this flirtation in kind, but she cautioned him, "Don't make me think even worse of you".

Her statement reminded him of her reference to things she had heard. He asked her with interest, "Who’s been talking to you about me?"

She replied tersely, giving him an accusing look, "Jalila".

This name took him by surprise. It was like a critic interrupting their tête-à-tête. He smiled in a way that showed he was uncomfortable. Jalila was the famous performer he had loved for such a long time, until they separated after the fire had died in their romance. They continued to like each other but had gone their separate ways. Relying on his experience with women, he thought he had better say, as though he really meant it, "God curse her face and voice!" Then, trying to avoid this topic, he continued: "Let’s skip all this and talk seriously".

She asked sarcastically, "Doesn't Jalila deserve a gentler and more gracious comment? Or are you always like this when you talk about a woman you've dumped?"

Al-Sayyid Ahmad felt a little uneasy, but he was awash with the sexual conceit aroused in him when a new lover discussed one of his former girlfriends. He enjoyed the sweet intoxication of triumph for some time. Then he remarked with his customary suavity, "In the presence of beauty like yours, I'm unable to put it aside for memories that are buried and forgotten".

Although the sultana retained her ironic look, she responded to the praise by raising her eyebrows and concealing a faint smile that had stolen across her lips. All the same, she addressed him scornfully: "A merchant is generous with his sweet talk until he gets what he wants".

"We merchants deserve to go to paradise because people are so unfair to us".

She shrugged her shoulders with disdain and then asked him with unconcealed interest, "When were you seeing each other?"

He waved his arm as if to say, "What a long time ago!" Then he muttered, "Ages and ages ago".

She laughed mockingly and said in a tone of revenge, "In the days of your youth, which have passed".

He looked at her reproachfully and said, "I wish I could suck the venom from your tongue".

She continued with what she was saying in the same tone: "She took you in when your flesh was firm and left you nothing but bones".

He gestured with his forefinger to caution her, saying, "I'm one of those hardy men who get married in their sixties".

"Motivated by passion or senility?"

He roared with laughter and said, "Lady, fear God. Let’s have a serious talk".

"Serious?… You mean about the evening’s entertainment you came to arrange?"

"I seek entertainment for a whole lifetime".

"A whole lifetime or just half?"

"May our Lord grant us what is good for us…"

"May our Lord grant us what is pleasant".

He secretly requested God’s forgiveness in advance before he asked, "Shall we recite the opening prayer of the Qur'an?"

She jumped up suddenly, ignoring his invitation, and cried out in alarm, "My Lord… it’s later than I thought. I have an important engagement tonight".

Al-Sayyid Ahmad rose too. He stretched out his hand to take hers. He spread open her palm tinted with henna and looked at it with desire and fascination. He kept on holding it even after she tried repeatedly to withdraw it. Finally she pinched his finger and raised her hand to his mustache. She shouted menacingly to him, "Let go of me or you'll leave my house with only half a mustache".

He saw that her forearm was near his mouth. He abandoned the dispute and slowly brought his lips to her arm until they sank into its soft flesh. A delicious fragrance of carnations wafted from her. He sighed and murmured, "Till tomorrow?"

She escaped from his hand without any resistance this time. She gave him a lengthy look. Then she smiled and recited softly:

She repeated these lines several times as she saw him out. Al-Sayyid Ahmad left the room singing the opening of this song in a low voice both dignified and sedate. He seemed to be examining the words for their hidden meaning.