Sugar Street

129

Amal was in his study wearing a loose-fitting house shirt when Umm Hanafi came to tell him, "Mr. Fuad al-Hamzawi is with my master". He rose and hurried downstairs.

So Fuad had returned to Cairo after a year's absence. The distinguished public prosecutor from Qena district was home again. The friendship and affection that filled Kamal's heart were marred by an uncomfortable feeling. His relationship with Fuad was still marked by a struggle between loving affection and jealous aversion. No matter how hard he tried to elevate himself intellectually, his instincts always forced him back down to the petty mundane level. As He descended the stair she sensed that this visit would awaken happy memories but also rub the scabs off wounds that had almost healed. When he passed through the sitting room, where the coffee hour consisting of his mother, Aisha, and Na'ima — was in session, he heard his mother whisper, "He'll ask for Na'ima's hand."

Sensing his presence, she turned to tell him, "Your friend's inside. He's so charming…. He wanted to kiss my hand, but I wouldn't let him."

Kamal found his father sitting cross-legged on the sofa and Fuad in a chair opposite. The old friends shook hands, and Kamal said, "Praise God for your safe return. Welcome, welcome! Are you on vacation?"

Smiling, al-Sayyid Ahmad answered, "No, he's been transferred to Cairo. He's finally been moved back here after a lengthy absence in Upper Egypt."

Sitting down on the sofa, Kamal said, "Congratulations! Now we hope to see you more often."

Fuad answered, "Naturally. As of the first of next month we'll be living in al-Abbasiya. We've leased an apartment near the Wayliya police station."

Fuad's appearance had not changed much, but he looked healthier. He had filled out, his complexion was rosier, and his eyes still had the familiar sparkle of intelligence.

Al-Sayyid Ahmad asked the young man, "How is your father? I haven't seen him for a week."

"Hishealth isn't as good as we'd wish. He's still sad about leaving the shop. But hopefully the person he found to take his place is doing a good job."

Al-Sayyid Ahmad laughed and said, "The shop now requires my constant attention. Your father, may God grant him a complete recovery and good health, took care of everything."

Fuacl sat up and placed one leg over the other. This gesture attracted Kamal's attention and distressed him, for he considered it disrespectful to his father, even though al-Sayyid Ahmad gave no sign of having noticed. Was this how things were developing? Yes, Fuad was a prominent member of the judicial service, but had he forgotten who it was who sat facing him? Lord, as if that was not enough, he took out a cigarette case and offered it to al-Sayyid Ahmad, who graciously declined. Fuad's judicial career had really made him forget himself, but it was sad that his forgetfulness should extend to the person who had financed his career. Fuad's grateful memories seemed to have vanished in thin air as quickly as the smoke from his fancy cigarette. His gestures appeared quite natural and unaffected, for he was an executive who had grown accustomed to taking charge.

Al-Sayyid Ahmad told Kamal, "Congratulate him on his promotion too."

SmiLng, Kamal said, "Congratulations! That's great. I hope I'll soon be able to offer you my best wishes for being named a judge."

Fuad answered, "That's the next step, God willing."

Once a judge he might allow himself to piss in front of the man who sat before him now. The grade-school teacher would remain just that. Kamal would have to content himself with his busliy mustache and the tons of culture weighing down his head.

Looking at Fuad with great interest, al-Sayyid Ahmad inquired, "How is the political situation?"

Fuad answered with satisfaction, "The miracle has happened! A treaty has been signed in London. I could not believe my ears when I heard the radio announce Egypt's independence and the termination of the four restrictions Britain had placed on our independence in the last treaty. Who would have anticipated this?"

"Then you're happy with the treaty?"

Nodding his head as though personally responsible for the decision, Fuad replied, "On the whole, yes. Some oppose it for legitimate reasons and others do so in bad faith. When we consider the circumstances in which we find ourselves and remember that despite the bitterness of the Sidqy era our people endured it without rebelling against him, we must consider the treaty a positive step. It abolishes the 'reserved points' Hmiting Egyptian independence, prepares the way for an end to the capitulations granting special privileges to foreigners, limits the future presence of foreign troops, and restricts them to a certain region. Without any doubt, it's a great step forward."

Al-Sayyid Ahmad was more enthusiastic and less knowledgeable about the treaty than Fuad. He would have liked the young man to agree more decisively with him, and when that did not happen, he insisted, "In any case, we must remember that the Wafd have restored the constitution to the nation and brought us independence, even if this has taken some time."

Kamal reflected that Fuad had always been lukewarm about politics. Perhapshe still was. But he did seem to favor the Wafd.

"For a long time I was politically engaged in a most emotional way," Kamal reflected. "But now I don't believe in anything. Not even politics is exempt from my insatiable doubt. Yet no matter what my intellect does, my heart pounds with nationalist fervor."

Fuad laughingly remarked, "In periods of unrest, the judicial system quails, and the police take precedence. Thus times of unrest are also times of police power. If the Wafd returns to rule, the judicial system will regain its rightful place and activities of the police will be limited. The natural state of affairs is for the law to have the final say."

Al-Sayyid Ahmad commented, "Can we forget the Sidqy era? Soldiers used truncheons to assemble citizens on election days. Many of our distinguished friends were ruined and went bankrupt as a result of their loyalty to the Wafd. And then we see this 'devil' become a member of the negotiating team, posing as a nationalist liberal."

Fuad replied, "Circumstances required a united front, one that would have been incomplete had it not included this 'devil' and his supporters. It's the end result that counts."

Fuad lingered there for some time, sipping coffee, while Kamal examined his friend, noticing the elegant white silk suit, which had a red rose decorating its lapel, and the forceful personality that he had acquired to match his position. Deep inside, Kamal felt that, in spite of everything, he would be happy to have this young man ask for Na'ima's hand, but Fuad did not touch on this subject. He seeined ready to depart and soon told al-Sayyid Ahmad, "It must be time for you to leave for the store. I'll stay and chat with Kamal, but I'll visit you before going to Alexandria. I've decided to spend the rest of August and part of September at the beach". Then he rose, said goodbye to his host with a handshake, and left the room, preceded by Kamal.

They climbed the stairs to the top floor and settled themselves in the study. Fuad smiled as he looked around at the books on the shelves. He asked, "May I borrow a book from you?"

Hiding his lack of enthusiasm, Kamal answered, "I'd be delighted. What do you normally read during your free time?"

"I have the poetry collections of Shawqi, Hafiz Ibrahim, and Mutran as well as some books by al-Jahiz and al-JVla'arri. I'm especially fond of al-Mawardi's Culture for This World and the Next, not to mention works of contemporary authors. This, along with a few books by Dickens and Conan Doyle … but my commitment to the law consumes most of my time."

Fuad rose to walk around and inspect the books, reading their titles. Completing his circle, he snorted, "A purely philosophical library! There's nothing to interest me here. I read al-Fikr magazine and have followed your essays in it over the years. But I don't claim to have read all of them or to remember anything from them. A philosophical discussion isheavy reading, and a public prosecutor is burdened with work. Why don't you write on popular topics?"

Kamal had heard his works belittled so often that he had almost grown accustomed to it and felt little distress about it. For him, doubt devoured everything, including any sorrow over such criticism. What was fame? What was popularity? Kamal was actually pleased to hear that Fuad found the articles useless for diversion in his spare time.

Kamal asked, "What do you mean by 'popular topics'?"

"Literature, for example."

"I've read many charming works since we were together, but I'm not a novelist or a poet."

Fuad laughed and said, "Then stay in philosophy, all by yourself. Aren't you a philosopher?"

"Aren't you a philosopher?" This expression had been etched into his mind ever since A'ida's lips had tossed it at him on Palaces Street. He shuddered from the terrifying impact it still made on his heart but concealed his emotional turmoil by laughing loudly. He remembered the days when Fuad had been devoted to him, following him around like a shadow. Now Kamal was looking at an important man, who deserved his affection and loyalty.

"What have you done with your life?" he asked himself.

Fuad was examining his friend's mustache. Suddenly he laughed and said, "If only…" When Kamal's eyes inquired what this meant, Fuad continued: "We're both almost thirty, and neither of us has married. Our generation is rife with bachelors. It's a crisis generation. Are you still resolutely opposed to marriage?"

"I haven't budged."

"I don't know why, but I believe that you will never marry."

"You've always been very perceptive."

Smiling warmly as though to apologize in advance for what he was going to say, Fuad commented, "You're an egotistical man. You insist on maintaining total control over your life. Brother, the Prophet married, and that did not prevent him from having a sublime spiritual life". Then, laughing, he emended his statement: "Excuse me for using the Prophet as an example. I almost forgot that you … But not so fast. You're no longer the same old atheist. Now you even doubt atheism. This represents a gain for belief."

Kamal replied calmly, "Let's skip the philosophizing. You don't enjoy it. Tell me why you haven't married yet, since this is what you think of the single life."

He immediately sensed that he should not have brought up this topic, for fear his friend would consider it a hint to ask for Na'ima's hand. But Fuad gave no sign of having understood his words in this manner. Instead, he laughed aloud although without abandoning his dignified demeanor and answered, "You know, I've only recently started to enjoy the seamy side of life.

Unlike you, I wasn't corrupted early in life. I haven't had enough fun yet."

"Will you marry when you have?"

As if to brush aside the temptation to prevaricate, Fuad waved his hand backwards through the air and confessed, "Since I've waited this long, I need to be patient a little longer, until I become a judge, for example. Then I'll be able to marry the daughter of a cabinet minister if I want."

"You son of Jamil al-Hamzawi!" Kamal exclaimed to himself. "The bridegroom of a cabinet official's daughter… her mother-in-law would be from the working-class district of al-Mubayyada. Even though he justified the presence of evil in the world, I defy Leibniz to justify this."

Kamal said, "You consider marriage a…"

Before he could complete this statement, Fuad laughingly interrupted: "At least that's better than not considering it at all."

"But happiness…"

"Don't philosophize! Happiness is a subjective art. You may find bliss with the daughter of a cabinet minister and nothing but misery with a girl from your own background. Marriage is a treaty like the one al-Nahhas signed yesterday. It involves haggling, realistic appraisals, shrewdness, perspicacity, gains and losses. In our country this is the only door to advancement. Last week a man not yet forty was appointed a senior judge for the appeals court, while I could devote a lifetime of diligent and tireless service to the judicial system without ever attaining such an exalted position."

What was the primary-school teacher to say? He would spend his entire life at the sixth level of the civil service, even if philosophy did fill his head to overflowing.

"Your position should save you from having to resort to such stratagems."

"If it weren't for strategic alliances of this kind, no prime minister would ever be able to assemble a cabinet."

Kamal laughed lifelessly and observed, "You're in need of some philosophy. You would benefit from a spoonful of Spinoza."

"Sip as much of it as you want, but spare us. Tell me where a man can have a good time and find something to drink. In Qena I had to take my pleasures cautiously, on the sly. A position like mine forces a man to be discreet and private. The constant struggle between us and the police means that we must be extra careful. A public prosecutor has a tedious and sensitive job."

"We're returning to talk that threatens to make me explode with bitterness," Kamal noted to himself. "Compared to yours, my life seems disciplined and refined, but it's also the greatest possible test in life for my skeptical philosophy."

"My circumstances," Fuad continued, "bring me together with many important people, and they invite me to their mansions. I feel obliged to refuse their invitations in order to avoid any possible conflict of interest in the performance of my duties. But their mentality is such that they don't understand this. All the leading citizens of the region accuse me of being a snob, although I am entirely innocent of the charge."

Although saying "Yes" agreeably to his friend, Kamal thought, "You're a conceited snob who is solicitous about his position."

"For similar reasons I lost favor with the police force. Dissatisfied with their crooked procedures, I attempted to entrap them. I had the law on my side, while they had the brutality of the Middle Ages on theirs. Everyone hates me, but I'm right."

"You're right," Kamal reflected. "That's what I've always known about you. You're shrewd and honest. But you don't and can't love anyone. You don't cling to what's right simply because it is right but out of conceit, pride, and a feeling of inferiority. This is what men are like. I run into people like you even in lowly callings. A man who is both pleasant and forceful is a myth. But what value does love have? Or idealism? Or anything?"

They talked for a long time. When preparing to leave, Fuad leaned toward Kamal and whispered, "I'm new in Cairo. You naturally know of an establishment — or probably several… one that's very private, naturally…."

Smiling, Kamal replied, "A teacher, like a public prosecutor, must always take care to be discreet."

"Excellent. We'll get together soon. I'm busy arranging the new apartment now, but we'll have to spend some evenings together."

"Agreed."

They left the room together, and Kamal accompanied his friend all the way to the street. Passing by the first floor on his return, he met his mother, who stood waiting for him at the door. She inquired anxiously, "Didn't he say anything to you?"

He understood what she meant, and that tormented him terribly. But he pretended not to understand and asked in turn, "About what?"

"Na'ima?"

He answered resentfully, "Absolutely not."

"Amazing!"

They exchanged a long look. Then Amina continued: "But al-Hamzawi spoke to your father about it."

Concealing his fury as best he could, Kamal said, "Perhapshe spoke without having consulted his son."

Amina retorted angrily, "What a silly idea. Doesn't he know how lucky he would be to get her? Your father should have reminded him who he is."

"Fuad's not to blame. Perhaps his father, with all the best intentions, spoke rashly, without thinking it over."

"But he must have told his son. Did Fuad refuse… that boy who was transformed into a distinguished civil servant by our money?"

"There's no need to talk about that."

"Son, this is unimaginable. Doesn't he know that accepting him into our family does us no honor?"

"Then don't be upset if it doesn't happen."

"I'm not upset about it. But I'm angered by the insult."

"There has been no insult. It's just a misunderstanding."

He returned to his room, sad and embarrassed, telling himself, "Na'ima's a beautiful rose. Yet, since I'm a man whose only remaining merit is love of truth, I must ask whether she is really a good match for a public prosecutor. Although he comes from a modest background, he will be able to find a spouse who is better educated, from a more distinguished family, wealthier, and prettier too. His good-natured father was too hasty. But he's not to blame. Still, Fuad's remarks to me were impudent. He certainly is impertinent. He's bright, honest, competent, insolent, and conceited, although it's not his fault. It's the result of the factors dividing, men from each other. They infect us with all these maladies."