Palace Walk

59

Amina found no relief from her anxiety all day long. The possibility that the soldiers would stop one of her men going or coming never left her head. Fahmy was the first to return. On seeing him, she felt slightly less anxious, but when she noticed he was frowning she asked, "What’s the matter, son?"

He complained, "I hate these soldiers".

The woman told him apprehensively, "Don't let them see it. If you love me, don't do it".

Even without her entreaty he would not have. He was not bold enough to challenge them with even a look as he walked along at their mercy. He kept his eyes from turning to gaze at any of them. On his way home he had asked himself sarcastically what they would do with him if they knew he was returning from a demonstration during which a violent confrontation had taken place and that early in the morning he had distributed tens of handbills inciting people to resist the soldiers.

He sat down to pass in review the events of the day. He recalled a few of them as they had actually happened but most as he wished they had been. It was his notion to work during the day and dream in the evening. In both cases, he was motivated by the most sublime and most hideous emotions: patriotism and a desire to kill and devastate. His dreams would intoxicate him for some time and then he would rouse himself, sad that they were impossible to carry out and depressed because they seemed silly. The fabric of these dreams was woven from the battles he would lead like Joan of Arc. Having seized the enemy’s weapons, he would attack, achieving the defeat of the English, and then deliver his immortal speech in Cairo’s Opera Square. The English would be forced to announce the independence of Egypt. Sa'd would return triumphant from exile. Fahmy would meet the leader, who would address the nation. Maryam would be present at the historic inauguration. Yes, his dreams were always crowned by the image of Maryam, even though, like the moon hidden behind storm clouds, she had been tucked away all this time in a remote corner of his heart that was beset by distractions.

Before he knew what was happening, his mother, tightening the kerchief around her head, told him uneasily, "Zaynab’s angry and has left for her father’s home".

Oh… he had almost forgotten what had happened to his brother and family that morning. His speculations when he learned that the maid, Nur, had disappeared were now confirmed. He avoided his mother’s eyes in embarrassment. He did not want her to discern what was passing through his mind, especially since he was sure she knew the truth of the matter. He thought it likely that she realized he knew about it too or at least suspected he did. He did not know what to say, since in his conversations with her he was not accustomed to pretending things he did not feel. He hated nothing so much as having wiles replace candor in their relationship. He limited himself to muttering, "May our Lord remedy the situation".

Amina said nothing more, as though the disappearance of Zaynab was a trivial event to be dismissed with a declarative statement and a pious wish.

Fahmy had to hide a smile, which almost betrayed that he knew more than he was saying. He realized that his mother was suffering too. She was uneasy because she had no natural talent for acting. She was not good at lying. Even if she was forced to prevaricate at times, her temperament, which was too straightforward to allow the veils of deception to cling, would give her away.

Their confusion did not last long, for in a few minutes they saw Yasin heading toward them. From the way he looked up at them, they imagined he did not realize what problems lay in store for him in the house, although even they did not know the extent of the trouble. Fahmy was not surprised, for he knew that Yasin paid little attention to problems other people found oppressive.

Yasin was overwhelmed by the breathtaking sensation of having emerged triumphant from an adventure that had caused him to forget most of his problems, if only temporarily. He had been on his way to the house when a soldier, apparently popping up from nowhere, had blocked his way. Yasin had trembled all over, expecting unprecedented evil or at least a distressing insult that would be observed by the shop owners and passers by. He had not hesitated to defend himself, addressing the soldier gently and ingratiatingly, as though asking permission to pass: "Please, sir".

The soldier had asked for a match and smiled. Yes, he had smiled. Yasin had been so astonished to see him smile that he had encountered difficulty understanding what he wanted until the soldier repeated his request. He had never imagined that an English soldier would smile that way. Even if English soldiers smiled like other human beings, he would not have thought one would smile at him so politely. He had been transported by delight and remained frozen for a few moments, neither offering an answer nor making a motion. Then with all the energy he could muster, he had tackled this simple assignment for the mighty, smiling soldier. Since he did not smoke and did not carry any matches, he had gone at once to al-Hajj Darwish, who sold beans, and purchased a box of matches. Then he had rushed back to the soldier, holding it out to him. The soldier had taken it and said, in English, "Thank you".

Yasin had not yet recovered from the impact of that magical smile. Now here was "thank you". It was like a glass of beer a person drinks to refresh himself when he has had enough whiskey. It filled Yasin with gratitude and pride. His pudgy face blushed and beamed as though the words "thank you" were a high decoration with which he had been publicly invested. It practically guaranteed that he would be able to go and come as he pleased in perfect safety. As soon as the soldier gave the first sign of moving away, Yasin told him in a friendly manner that came straight from his heart, "Good luck, sir".

Yasin proceeded to the house almost reeling with joy. What good luck he had had… An Englishman-not an Australian or an Indian-had smiled at him and thanked him… An Englishman-in other words, the kind of man he imagined to embody all the perfections of the human race. Yasin probably detested the English as all Egyptians did, but deep inside he respected and venerated them so much that he frequently imagined they were made from a different stuff than the rest of mankind. This man had smiled at him and thanked him… Yasin had answered him correctly, imitating English pronunciation so far as his mouth would allow. He had succeeded splendidly and had merited the man’s thanks.

How could he believe the brutal acts attributed to them? Why had they exiled Sa'd Zaghlul if they were so gracious? His enthusiasm faded the moment his eyes fell on Mrs. Amina and Fahmy. From their expressions he could grasp that something was wrong. His worries, from which he had been temporarily severed, wound round him like a rope. He realized that he was confronted once more by the problem from which he had fled early that morning. Pointing upstairs, he asked, "Why isn't she sitting with you? Is she still angry?"

Amina exchanged a glance with Fahmy. Then she muttered nervously, "She’s gone to her father".

He raised his eyebrows in astonishment or alarm. Then he asked her, "Why did you let her go?"

Amina replied with a sigh, "She slipped out without anyone noticing".

He felt he ought to say something to defend his honor in front of his brother and stepmother. He declared scornfully, "Whatever she wants".

Fahmy decided to resist his urge to keep silent. He wanted his brother to think he knew nothing about his secret and also wished to dispel any suspicion that he had heard it from his mother. He asked simply, "What caused this misfortune?"

Yasin gave him a searching look. He waved his large hand and grimaced as if to say, "Nothing’s caused any misfortune". Then he observed, "Girls today no longer have the ability to get along with people". Looking at Mrs. Amina, he asked, "Where are the ladies of yesteryear?"

Amina bowed her head, apparently from embarrassment but actually to hide a smile that got the better of her when her mind tried to reconcile the image of Yasin now-contemplative, hortatory, and victimized-with the Yasin of the previous evening when he had been caught on the roof. All the same, Yasin’s discomfort was far greater than the circumstances allowed him to admit. Despite the oppressive disappointment he had sustained in his married life, he had never thought for a moment of terminating it. He found in marriage a secure haven and refuge, not to mention the promise of imminent fatherhood, which he welcomed enthusiastically. He had always hoped to have his marriage waiting for him when he returned from his various sorties like an explorer returning to his homeland at the end of the year. He was not oblivious to the new conflict between him and his father as well as Mr. Iffat that would result from his wife’s departure. All of this would be further clouded by the scandal. Its odor would be diffused until it stopped up everyone’s nostrils… The bitch! He had been fully determined to bring her around gradually to confessing that her error was more serious than his. Indeed, he may even have been so convinced that he felt it would certainly happen. He had sworn to make her apologize and to discipline her, but she had departed. She had turned his plans upside down and left him in an extremely awkward crisis. The bitch!

He was wrenched from his stream of thoughts by a scream that rent the silence enveloping the house. He turned toward Fahmy and his stepmother. He found they were trying hard to listen, looking concerned and anxious. The screaming continued, and they easily ascertained that it came from a woman. Their eyes showed that they were wondering what direction it came from and what the cause was. Was it announcing a death or a fight or calling for help? Amina began to ask God’s protection against all evils.

Then Fahmy said, "It’s near… perhaps on our street". He rose suddenly, furrowing his brow, and asked, "Could it be that the English have attacked a woman who walked past them?"

He rushed to the balcony with the others trailing behind. The screaming stopped, leaving no indication of the direction from which it had come. The three of them looked through the peephole in the latticework to search the street. Their eyes came to rest on a woman who attracted attention by the strange way she was standing in the center of the street and by the circle of passers by and storekeepers gathered around her. They recognized her immediately and cried out together, "Umm Hanafi!"..

Amina had sent the servant to get Kamal from school. She asked, "Why don't I see Kamal with her? What’s making her stand there like a statue?"

"Kamal… My Lord… where’s Kamal?"

Relying on her intuition, the mother said, "She’s the one who screamed. I recognize her voice now… Where’s Kamal? Save me…"

Neither Fahmy nor Yasin uttered a word. They were busy searching the roadway in general and the English camp in particular for Kamal. They saw people looking toward the soldiers, most notably Umm Hanafi. They were certain that it was Umm Hanafi who had screamed and thus gathered the people around her. They felt instinctively that she was calling for help because some danger was threatening Kamal. Their fears centered on the English. But what was the danger? Where was Kamal? What had happened to the boy?

The mother kept appealing for help. They did not know how to comfort her and probably needed some reassuring themselves… Where was Kamal? Some of the soldiers were sitting down, others stood or walked along minding their own business. Each was preoccupied with his own activities, as though nothing had happened, as though there was no crowd of people gathered in the street.

Suddenly Yasin punched Fahmy’s shoulder and yelled, "Don't you see those soldiers standing in a circle under the cistern building on our street? Kamal’s standing in the middle… Look".

The mother could not keep herself from screaming, "The soldiers have Kamal… There he is, O my Lord… Lord… save me".

Four giant soldiers had linked arms to form a circle. Fahmy’s eyes had searched in that direction more than once without discovering Kamal. This time he noticed the boy in the center of the circle, visible through an opening between the legs of a soldier who was standing with his back to them. The family imagined the soldiers were going to kick him back and forth like a ball until they did him in.

Fahmy’s fear for his brother made him forget his own safety. He turned around and said excitedly, "I'm going to him, no matter what".

Yasin’s hand grabbed his shoulder. Yasin told Fahmy decisively, "Stop". Then with a calm, cheerful voice he told the mother, "Don't be afraid. If they had wanted to harm him, they would not have hesitated… Look. He seems to be involved in a long conversation. And what about this red thing in his hand? I wager it’s a piece of chocolate… Calm yourself. They're just having some fun with him". He sighed and continued: "He’s frightened us for no reason at all".

Yasin regained his composure. He still remembered his happy adventure with the soldier. He did not think it too unlikely that some of the man’s fellow soldiers were as gracious and gentle as he was. Then he thought he would shore up and corroborate what he had said for the sake of the mother’s agonized heart. He pointed to Umm Hanafi, who had not moved, and observed, "Don't you see that Umm Hanafi kept screaming until she realized there was no need for it? The people around her are beginning to move away. They seem reassured".

The mother murmured in a shaky voice, "My heart won't be reassured until he comes to me".

They focused their attention on the boy or what they could see of him from time to time. The soldiers unlinked their arms and relaxed their legs as though they were confident that Kamal would not run away. Now Kamal could be seen in his entirety. He was smiling, and they could tell from the movement of his lips and from the gestures of his hands, which he used to get a point across, that he was talking. The fact that he and the soldiers seemed to understand each other indicated that they could use the Cairo dialect of Arabic to some extent. But what was he telling them and what were they saying to him? None of them could guess that, but they calmed down. Even the mother in her anxious astonishment was finally able to watch silently, without any wail or call for help, the strange scene unfolding before her eyes.

Yasin laughed and said, "It’s clear we were far too pessimistic when we assumed that the occupation of our district by these soldiers would create endless problems for us".

Although Fahmy appeared to be grateful that the soldiers were treating Kamal correctly, he did not appreciate Yasin’s remark. Without turning his eyes away from the boy, he commented, "The way they treat men and women may differ from their treatment of children. Don't get too optimistic".

Yasin almost burst out with an account of his happy adventure, but he stopped himself in time for fear of enraging his brother. To be polite and ingratiating he said, "May our Lord free us safely from them".

Amina asked impatiently, "Isn't it time for them to let him go, with our thanks?"

It appeared that the circle of men around Kamal were expecting something else to happen. One of the four had gone off to a nearby tent to fetch a wooden chair, which he placed in front of Kamal. The boy immediately jumped on the chair. He stood there erect, with his arms hanging down straight at his sides, as though reviewing a formation of soldiers from an elite guard. His fez had slipped down over the back of his head, probably without his noticing it, to reveal his large, protruding forehead. What was he doing? Why was he standing like that? They did not have long to wonder, for his clear voice soon rang out with this song:

He sang it all the way through in his pleasing voice while the soldiers watched, their mouths open and smiling. They clapped their hands in appreciation at the end of each phrase. One of them was touched when he understood part of the meaning of the song and began to shout, "I'm going home… I'm going home".

Kamal was encouraged by the enthusiastic response of his audience. He sang his very best, taking special care with his vibrato and projection. He finished the song to applause and praise, in which his family at the peephole participated, after singing along with him in their hearts, filled with joy and apprehension. Yes, the family participated in praising him after sharing vicariously in the singing, which they had followed anxiously, praying that he would excel and not make any mistakes. They might almost have been singing through him. It was as though their honor, both individually and as a family, was riding on his success.

Amina forgot her fears in the midst of these other feelings. Even Fahmy thought of nothing but the song and his hopes for its success. When the song was concluded successfully they all sighed deeply and wished Kamal would hurry home before anything happened to spoil the impact.

It seemed clear that the party was about to break up, for Kamal jumped down from the chair. He shook hands with each of the soldiers and raised his hand in salute. Then he shot off toward the house. The family rushed from the balcony to the sitting room to be ready to greet him. He arrived flushed and out of breath, with perspiration on his brow, his eyes and features contented, his limbs moving jerkily and aimlessly from his joyful feeling of victory. His young heart was filled to overflowing with happiness, which he could not help but proclaim in every possible way, calling the others to share in it. It was like a swelling deluge the riverbanks cannot retain that floods the fields and valleys. One look would have been enough to show him the impact of his adventure on their faces, but he was blinded by his joy and shouted, "I've got news you won't believe. You couldn't imagine it…"

Yasin laughed loudly and sarcastically, "What news, my darling?"

This phrase lifted the veil from his eyes, like a light suddenly glowing in the darkness, so he could see the eloquent expressions of their faces. His knowledge that they had witnessed his adventure compensated for missing the opportunity to astonish them with his amazing account. He burst into laughter, slapping his knees with his hands. Then, struggling with his giggles, he asked, "Did you really see me?"

At that the voice of Umm Hanafi was heard complaining, "It would have been better if they had seen how I suffered… What’s all this joy about after I was almost undone?… One more incident like that and it'll be time for God to have mercy on me". She had not removed her black wrap and looked like a sack of coal full to bursting. Her face appeared pale and sickly. There was a strange look of resignation in her eyes.

Amina asked her, "What happened?… Why did you scream? God was kind to us and we didn't see anything alarming".

Umm Hanafi leaned her back against the door and commenced: "I'll never forget what happened, lady. We were on our way home when a devil of a soldier jumped in front of us and motioned to Mr. Kamal to go with him. Frightened, he ran toward Qirmiz Alley, but another soldier cut him off there. He turned into Palace Walk. He was screaming and my heart plunged from fear. I started to call for help at the top of my lungs. My eyes did not leave him for a minute while he ran from one soldier to another until they surrounded him. I was so afraid I almost died, and I couldn't see straight. I could not see much of anything. Before I knew it, people had gathered around me, but I kept on screaming until Uncle Hasanayn, the barber, told me, 'May God spare him from being harmed by those bastards. Proclaim the oneness of God. They're being nice to him.' Oh, lady, our master al-Husayn was with us and protected us from evil…"

Kamal objected, "I never screamed".

Umm Hanafi beat her hand against her breast and said, "Your screaming was so loud it hurt my ears and drove me crazy".

In a low voice, as though apologizing, he said, "I thought they were going to kill me, but one of them began to whistle and patted my shoulder. Then he gave me a piece of chocolate". Kamal patted his pocket before continuing: "I stopped feeling afraid".

Amina’s happiness left her. Perhaps it had been a hasty, spurious joy. The fact she should not lose sight of was that Kamal had been terrified for some minutes. She would need to pray to God for a long time to spare Kamal any evil effects. She did not think of fright merely as a transitory sensation. Certainly not… It was an abnormal state with a mysterious, invisible halo around it. The jinn sought refuge there like bats in darkness. A frightened person, particularly someone young, would be harmed. There would be bad consequences. In her opinion, fear required special care and precautions, whether recitation of verses from the Qur'an, incense, or amulets. She remarked sadly, "They frightened you! May God destroy them…"

Yasin, reading her thoughts, joked, "Chocolate is a useful charm against fright". Then he addressed Kamal: "Did you talk to them in Arabic?"

Kamal embraced the question, because once more it opened for him the doors to imagination and adventure, rescuing him from the vexations of reality. With his face beaming again, he replied, "They spoke to me in a strange kind of Arabic… I wish you had heard it yourself". He went on to imitate the way they talked until everyone was laughing. Even his mother smiled.

Yasin, who envied his brother, asked him, "What did they say to you?"

"Lots of things!.. 'What’s your name?' 'Where’s your house?' 'Do you like the English?'"

Fahmy asked sarcastically, "How did you reply to that wonderful question?"

Kamal looked at him and hesitated, but Yasin answered for him: "Of course he said he loves them… What would you have wanted him to say?"

Kamal spoke up again to add fervently, "But I also told them to bring back Sa'd Pasha".

Fahmy could not restrain himself from laughing out loud. He asked Kamal, "Really!.. What did they say to that?"

Feeling better now that his brother had laughed, Kamal replied, "One of them tweaked my ear and said in English, 'Sa'd Pasha, no.'"

Yasin had another question: "What else did they say?"

Kamal replied innocently, "They asked me if there weren't any girls in our house?"

For the first time since Kamal had arrived they looked at each other grimly. Fahmy asked him with concern, "What did you tell them?"

"I told them my sisters Aisha and Khadija got married, but they didn't understand what I was saying. So I said there’s no one at home except 'Nina.' They asked what that meant and I told them 'Mama.'"

Fahmy gave Yasin a look that said, "Do you see how appropriate my suspicions were?" Then he remarked sarcastically, "They didn't give him the chocolate simply for the love of God".

Yasin smiled feebly and muttered, "There’s nothing to be worried about". He was not willing to allow this subject to cloud their reunion. So he asked Kamal, "Why did they invite you to sing?"

Kamal laughed. He said, "During the conversation one of them began to sing in a low voice. Then I asked them if they wanted to hear me".

Yasin laughed loudly. He remarked, "What a daring boy you are… Weren't you afraid when you were surrounded by their legs?"

"Not at all," Kamal boasted. Then he said with feeling, "How handsome they are! I've never seen anyone more handsome before. Blue eyes… golden hair… gleaming white skin. They look like Aisha!"

He suddenly ran off to the study, where he raised his head to see the picture of Sa'd Zaghlul on the wall next to those of the Khedive Abbas II, Mustafa Kamil, and Muhammad Farid. When he returned he said, "They're a lot better-looking than Sa'd Pasha".

Fahmy shook his head sadly and remarked, "What a traitor you are… They bought you with a piece of chocolate. You're not so young you can be excused for saying that. Pupils in your school are dying as martyrs every day. May God grant you failure".

Umm Hanafi had brought in the brazier, coffeepot, cups, and the container with the coffee. Amina began to prepare the coffee for the time-honored session. Everything had returned to normal except that Yasin had begun to think once more of his angry wife. Kamal went off by himself and took the chocolate out of his pocket. He began to remove its gleaming red wrapper. Fahmy’s attempt to make him feel bad seemed to have been in vain, for in his heart there was nothing but contentment and love.