Palace Walk

35

Al-Sayyid Ahmad was having his afternoon coffee in his room when Khadija entered and said in a voice that was so deferential it was barely audible, "Our neighbor Umm Maryam wishes to see you, sir".

Her father asked in amazement, "The wife of Mr. Muhammad Ridwan? What does she want?"

"I don't know, Papa".

Attempting to curb his amazement, he ordered her to show the woman in. Although it did not happen often, this would not be the first time one of the respectable ladies from the neighborhood came to call on him, either for some matter relating to his business or because he was trying to reconcile her and a husband who was one of his friends. All the same, he thought it unlikely that this lady was coming to see him for one of these reasons. While he was wondering about this, he happened to think of Maryam and his discussion with his spouse concerning a possible engagement; but how could there be any connection between that secret, which would not have gone beyond the limits of his family circle, and this visit? Then he thought of Mr. Muhammad Ridwan and the possibility that the visit had some link to him. Yet he had never been anything more than a neighbor. Their relationship had never been elevated to the rank of friendship. In former times they had visited each other only when it was necessary. Once the other man became paralyzed, he had called on him a few times, but after that he had knocked on his door only during the religious festivals.

In any case, Maryam’s mother, Umm Maryam, was no stranger to him. He remembered she had been in his store once to buy some items. On that occasion she had introduced herself to him to assure herself favorable treatment. He had been as generous with her as he thought appropriate for a good neighbor. Another time he had met her at the door of his house when his departure coincided with her arrival. Although accompanied by her daughter, she had astonished him then with her daring, for she had greeted him openly, saying, "Good afternoon, your honor, sir".

His dealings with his friends had taught him that some of them were lenient where he was strict. He was extreme in his insistence on retaining traditional standards for his family. These other men saw nothing wrong with their wives going out to visit or shop. They were not disturbed by an innocent greeting like Umm Maryam's. Despite his ultraconservative, Hanbali bias in religion, he was not one to attack his friends over what they found appropriate for them and their women. Indeed, he saw nothing wrong with the fact that some of the more distinguished ones took their wives and daughters along when they went in a carriage for outings in the countryside or to frequent wholesome places of entertainment. All he would do was repeat the saying "You've got your religion and I've got mine". In other words, he was not inclined to impose his views blindly on other people. Although he could distinguish what really was good from what was bad, he was not willing to embrace every "good" thing. In that respect he was influenced by his sternly traditional nature, so much so that he considered his wife’s visit to the shrine of al-Husayn a crime deserving the gravest punishment he had meted out during his second marriage. For these reasons, he had felt an astonishment mixed with panic when Umm Maryam had greeted him, but he had not thought any the worse of her.

He heard someone clearing her throat outside his door. He perceived that the visitor was warning him she was about to enter. When she did come in, she was swathed in her wrap and her face was concealed behind a black veil. Large black eyes enhanced by kohl could be seen on either side of the golden cylinder connecting her veil to her scarf. She brought her ample and corpulent body with its swaying hips close to him. He rose to greet her. Putting out his hand, he said, "Welcome. You honor our house and family".

She held her hand out to him after wrapping it in a corner of her cloth, so she would not nullify his state of ritual cleanliness. She replied, "Sir, your honor, may our Lord hold you in high esteem".

He invited her to have a seat. Then he sat down and asked her for the sake of politeness, "How is al-Sayyid Muhammad?"

As though the question had reminded her of her sorrows, she sighed audibly and responded, "Praise to God who is the only one we praise for adversity. May our Lord be gracious to all of us".

Al-Sayyid Ahmad shook his head as though he were grieved and murmured, "May our Lord take him by the hand and grant him patience and good health".

The exchange of pleasantries was followed by a short silence while the lady began to prepare for the serious conversation that had brought her. She resembled a musician preparing to sing after the instrumental prelude has ended. Al-Sayyid Ahmad lowered his eyes decorously while retaining a smile on his lips to announce his welcome for the expected conversation. She said, "Al-Sayyid Ahmad, you're such a chivalrous person that you're proverbial throughout the whole district. A person who comes to you and appeals to your chivalry is not disappointed".

Although he was wondering to himself, "What’s behind all this," he murmured modestly, "I ask God’s forgiveness".

"The fact is that I came just now to visit my sister Umm Fahmy[13]. How appalled I was to learn that she’s not here in her house and that you're angry with her".

The woman fell silent to gauge the effect of her words and to hear what he might think of them. For his part, al-Sayyid Ahmad took refuge in silence, as though he could not think of anything to say. Although he felt uncomfortable that this topic had been raised, the smile of welcome remained plastered on his lips.

"Is there a lady finer than Umm Fahmy? She is a wise and modest lady, a neighbor for twenty years or more. During that time we have never heard anything but the nicest things about her. What could she possibly have done that would merit the anger of a just man like you?"

Al-Sayyid Ahmad persisted in his silence and ignored her question. Some ideas occurred to him that increased his discomfort. Had the woman merely come to the house by accident or had she been invited to carry out some schemer’s plan?… Khadija? Aisha? Amina herself? The children would never tire of defending their mother. Could he forget how Kamal had dared to scream in his face and ask him to bring back his mother? That incident had led to a beating so fiery that smoke had poured from the boy’s ears.

"What a fine lady she is. She doesn't deserve such punishment… And what a noble gentleman you are. Violence does not become you. It’s the work of cursed Satan, may God humiliate him, but your excellence will prevail to spoil his scheme".

At that point, he felt he could no longer remain silent, not even out of politeness to his guest. He muttered with deliberate brevity, "May our Lord remedy the situation".

Encouraged by her success in getting him to talk, Umm Maryam said zealously, "How it hurts me for our fine neighbor to leave her home after a long life of seclusion and honor".

"The streams will return to their banks, but there is a right time for everything".

"You are like a brother to me. Indeed, you're dearer than a brother. I won't add a single word".

A new element had entered the affair and did not escape his attentive mind. He registered it the way an observatory might record a distant earthquake, regardless of how faint it seemed. He imagined that when she said, "You are like a brother to me," her voice had been tender and sweet. When she said, "Indeed, you're dearer than a brother," her voice had revealed a warm affection that lent a pleasant fragrance to the embarrassed atmosphere. He was amazed and wondered about it. Perplexed, he could no longer bear to keep his eyes lowered. He raised them hesitantly. He stole a look at her face. Contrary to his expectations, he found her looking at him with her large black eyes. He was flustered and lowered his again quickly. He was partly surprised and partly embarrassed. To cover up his emotions, he continued the conversation: "Thank you for considering me your brother…"

He wondered whether she had been looking at him that way throughout their conversation or whether he had merely raised his eyes at a moment when she happened to glance at him. What could be said about her not lowering her eyes when their eyes met? He immediately scoffed at these ideas, telling himself that his infatuation with women and experience with them made him especially prone to think ill of them. No doubt the truth was as far removed as possible from what he imagined. She might be one of those women whose nature gushes with affection, so that people who do not know them think they are flirting when they are not. In order to confirm his opinion, since confirmation was needed, he looked up again. How appalled he was to see her still looking at him. He was a little more courageous this time and fixed his eyes on her for a moment. She kept gazing at him submissively but boldly. In total confusion he lowered his eyes. At that time he heard her soft voice say, "After this request I'll see whether I'm truly favored by you".

Favored? If the word had not been spoken in this atmosphere filled with emotion and charged with doubt and confusion, it would have passed without leaving any trace. But now…? With considerable embarrassment he looked at her again. He discerned some hints in her eyes that tantalized his suspicions. Had his feeling been right? Was this possible at the very moment she was interceding for his wife? For a man as experienced with women as he was, that would be no surprise… a playful wife with a paralyzed husband. His consciousness was permeated by surges of delight that filled him with warmth and pride. When had this sentiment begun? Was it an old one that had simply been waiting for an opportunity? Had she not visited him at the store once without doing anything to excite his suspicions? Even so, the store was not a place where a woman like her would feel comfortable revealing a secret passion, as the performer Zubayda had, with no prior preparation for the announcement. Was it a sentiment born of the moment that had arisen along with the golden opportunity when she found herself alone with him? If that was true, then she was merely another Zubayda disguised in a lady’s clothing.

Although he knew a lot about passionate women, it was not surprising that he had overlooked her. He was zealous to respect the honor of his neighbors in the most exemplary way. If she was flirting with him, how should he respond? Should he say, "You're more in favor with me than you can imagine"? It would be a pretty phrase, but she might see it as a welcoming response to her invitation. He certainly did not want that. He was completely opposed to it and not merely because he was still enthralled with Zubayda. He would not agree to a situation deviating from his principles, which called for total respect for the reputations of honorable people in general and of friends and neighbors in particular. In spite all his amorous and sensual excesses, there was not a single blot on his page to embarrass him with a friend, neighbor, or virtuous person. It had always been his custom to fear God as much when he was amusing himself as when he was being serious. He had only allowed himself things he considered licit or within the bounds of minor offenses. This did not imply that he had been endowed with supernatural willpower shielding him from passion. What he did was revel in every passion allowed him and turn his eyes away from respectable women. Throughout his entire life he had never deliberately looked at the face of a woman from his district. He was known to have rejected a promising affair out of concern for the feelings of an acquaintance. A messenger had come one day to invite him to meet the sister of that man, a middle-aged widow, on a night he would name. Al-Sayyid Ahmad had received the invitation silently and shown the messenger out with his customary politeness. Then he had avoided the street where her house was for years afterward.

Umm Maryam was possibly the first person to test his principles face to face. Although he found her attractive, he refused to answer the temptations of passion. The voice of wisdom and sobriety won out, protecting his much-discussed reputation from a world of reproaches. His good reputation seemed to mean more to him than seizing a proffered pleasure. He consoled himself with the opportunities that arose from time to time for romances with no unpleasant consequences.

This will to respect his obligations and act honorably with friends remained with him even in the realms of amusement and desire. He had never been accused of making a pass at the mistress of a companion or of looking lustfully at the sweetheart of a friend. He chose friendship over passion. He would say, "The affection of a friend endures. A girlfriend’s passion is fleeting". For this reason, he was content to select his lovers from unattached women or to wait until a woman had ended her previous relationship. Then he would seize his opportunity. At times he would even ask permission from her former companion before beginning to court her. Thus he was able to conduct his amorous adventures with a delight free of regret and a serenity unblemished by ill will. In other words, he had successfully balanced the animal within him that was voracious for pleasure with the man in him that looked up to higher principles. He had succeeded in harmoniously joining these two sides of his personality in a compatible whole. Neither side dominated the other, and each was able to pursue its own special interests easily and comfortably. Just as he had reconciled the opposing forces of sensuality and ethics, he was also able to merge piety and debauchery successfully into a unity free of any hint of either sin or repression.

Yet his good faith was not inspired merely by loyalty to a code of ethics. It was based most of all on his innate desire to continue to be loved and enjoy a fine reputation. The success of his amorous forays made it easier for him to avoid love marred by betrayal or depravity. Moreover, he had never known a true form of love that could have pushed him into succumbing either to emotion, without regard to principles, or to a fierce emotional and moral crisis, in which he could not keep from being burned.

Umm Maryam represented nothing more to him than a delicious kind of food, which, if it threatened his digestion, he could easily turn down in favor of some of the other tasty but wholesome dishes that covered the table. Therefore, he answered her tenderly, "Your mediation is accepted, God willing. You will hear something that will please you shortly".

The woman said as she rose, "May our Lord be generous to you, sir, your honor".

She stretched out her soft hand. He took it, but lowered his eyes. He imagined that she squeezed his hand a little when they were saying goodbye. He began to wonder whether this was the way she usually shook hands or if she had deliberately squeezed it. He tried to remember what her handshake had been like when she arrived, but he could not. He spent most of the time before he returned to the store thinking about the woman, what she had said, her tenderness, and her handshake.