Sugar Street

132

Wrapped up in his overcoat, Abd al-Muni'm returned home to Sugar Street, bracing himself against the bitter winter cold. Although it was only six, darkness had fallen. When he reached the entry to the staircase, the door of the first-floor apartment opened and out slipped the lithe figure that had been waiting for him. His heart pounded and his fiery eyes watched her advance as he climbed the stairs with light steps, taking care not to make any sound. He was torn between his desire, which tempted him to yield, and his will, which urged him to take control of a nervous system apparently bent on betraying and destroying him. He remembered, only then, that she had made a date with him for this evening and that he could have come home earlier or later, thus avoiding the encounter. He had forgotten all about it. How forgetful he was! There was no time for deliberation and reflection. He would have to wait until he was alone in his room, until a moment that would mark triumphant victory or miserable defeat.

Nothing could make him forget his endless struggle. Throwing himself into this trial, he mounted the stairs behind her without having reached any decision. At the landing, he imagined her figure had swelled so large that it filled space and time to bursting.

With some difficulty, he concealed his anxiety and hid his determination to resist temptation when he said, "Good evening."

The voice replied affectionately, "Good evening. Thank you for heeding my advice to wear your overcoat."

He was touched by her tenderness, and the wordshe was about to cast at her melted in his mouth. Trying to mask his confusion, he said, "I was afraid it might rain."

She raised her head as though to look at the sky and remarked, "It will rain sooner or later. You can't see a single star in the sky. I had trouble recognizing you when you turned into our street."

He collected his unruly faculties and observed as if to caution her, "It's cold and extremely humid in the staircase."

With a directness the girl had learned from him, she replied, "I don't feel the cold when I'm near you."

The heat welling up inside him made his face burn. His condition suggested that he was going to err again, his best intentions notwithstanding. He summoned all his willpower in an effort to master the tremor sweeping through his body.

"Why don't you speak?" she asked.

Sensing her hand gently squeeze his shoulder, he could not stop himself from putting his arms around her. He began with one long kiss and then showered her with more, until he heard her say breathlessly, "I can't bear to be apart from you!"

He kept on hugging her, as he warmed to her embrace. She whispered in his ear, "I wish I could stay like this forever."

Tightening his grip on her, he said in a trembling voice, "I'm sorry!"

In the darkness she drew her head back a little and asked, "Aboui: what, darling?"

He replied hesitantly, "The mistake we're making."

"By God, what mistake?"

He gently freed himself from her and removed his overcoat, which he folded and started to place on the railing. But at the last terrifying moment he changed his mind, draped it over his arm, and took a step backwards, breathing heavily. His willpower was able to halt his progressive surrender to lust, and that changed everything. When her hand sought to return to his neck, he grabbed hold of it. Then he waited until his breathing had returned to normal and said calmly, "This is a great error."

"What error? I don't understand."

"A young girl not yet fourteen," Abd al-Muni'm chided himself, "and you're toying with her to satisfy a merciless desire. This flirtation will lead to nothing. It's merely an amusement that will draw down God's wrath and anger on you."

"You must try to understand," he said. "Would we be able to tell everyone what we're doing?"

"Tell everyone?"

"Don't you see you would be forced to deny it? If we can't talk about it, then it must be a despicable error."

He felt her hand search for him again. He climbed the first step of the next flight of stairs, confident that he had passed safely out of the danger zone. "Admit that we're doing something wrong. We mustn't continue to make this mistake."

"I'm amazed to hear you talk like this."

"Don't be. My conscience can no longer tolerate this mistake. It torments me, making it hard for me to pray."

"She's silent," he thought. "I've hurt her, may God forgive me. How painful! But I won't give in. Praise God that desire didn't lead you to commit an even greater error."

"What's happened must teach us not to do anything like this in the future. You're young. You've made a mistake. Don't ever yield to temptation again."

In a sobbing voice she protested, "I haven't done anything wrong. Are you planning to desert me? What are your intentions?"

In full command of himself now, he answered, "Go back to your apartment. Don't do anything you would have to conceal. Don't ever meet anyone in the dark."

The shaky voice asked, "Are you deserting me? Have you forgotten what you said about our love?"

"Those were a fool's words. You were mistaken. Let this be a lesson for you. Beware of the dark, for it could be your ruin. You're young. How come you're so daring?"

Her sobs reverberated in the gloom, but that made no impression on his heart. He was intoxicated by the stern delight of victory.

"Heed my words. Don't be angry. Remember that if I were really a scoundrel I wouldn't have been satisfied with anything less than ruining you. Goodbye."

He bounded up the stairs. The torment was over. Remorse would no longer be able to sink its teeth into him. But he should remember what his mentor Shaykh Ali al-Manufi said: "You cannot conquer the devil by ignoring the laws of nature". Yes, he had to remember that. He quickly changed into his house shirt. Then as he left the room he told his brother, Ahmad, "I want to talk privately with Father in the study. Please give us a little time to be alone."

When Abd al-Muni'm asked his father to join him there, Khadija raised her head to inquire, "Good news?"

"I want to talk to Father first. Then it will be your turn."

Ibrahim Shawkat trailed after his son silently. The man had recently gotten a new set of dentures. His languid complacency had returned, after he had been forced to confront life in a toothless condition for six whole months. They sat down beside each other, and the father asked, "Good news, God willing?"

Without any hesitation or introduction, Abd al-Muni'm said, "Father, I want to marry."

The man stared at his son's face and then knit his brows jovially as though he had not understood. After shaking his head in a bafiled way, he remarked, "Marriage? There's a right time for everything. Why are you speaking about this now?"

"I want to get married now."

"Now? You're only eighteen. Won't you wait until you get your degree?

" 1 ca/it.

Then the door opened, and Khadija entered. "What's happening behind this door?" she asked. "Are there secrets you can tell your father but not me?"

Abd al-Muni'm frowned nervously. Ibrahim, who scarcely understood the meaning of his own words, answered, "Abd al-Muni'm wants to get married."

Khacija scrutinized her husband as though fearing he had gone insane. She cried out, "Get married! What do I hear? Have you decided to leave the University?"

In an angry, forceful voice, Abd al-Muni'm responded, "I said I want to marry, not that I'm dropping out of school. I'll continue my studies as a married man. That's all there is to it."

Looking back and forth from one to the other, Khadija asked, "Abd al-Muni'm, are you really serious?"

He shouted, "Absolutely!"

The woman struck her hands together and riposted, "The evil eye has struck you. What's happened to your brain, son?"

Abd al-Muni'm stood up angrily. He asked, "What brings you here? I wanted to speak privately with my father first, but you don't know what patience is. Listen! I want to get married. I have two more years before I finish my studies. Father, you can support me for these two years. If I weren't sure ofthat, I would not have made this request."

Khadija said, "God's grace! They've destroyed his mind."

"Who has?"

"God knows best who they are. I'll let Him take care of them. You shouldn't have any doubts as to their identity, and we'll soon learn."

The young man told his father, "Don't listen to her. Even now I have no idea what girl will be mine. Choose her yourselves. I want a suitable bride, any bride."

Flabbergasted, she asked him, "Do you mean there's not some special girl who is the cause of this whole calamity?"

"Absolutely not. Believe me. Choose for me yourself."

"Why are you in such a hurry then? I'll select someone for you. Give me a little time. Say a year or two?"

Raising his voice, he said, "I'm not joking. Leave me alone. He understands me better than you do."

His father asked him calmly, "Why the rush?"

Lowering his gaze, Abd al-Muni'm answered, "I can't wait any longer."

Khadija inquired, "How come thousands of other young men like you can?"

The boy told his father, "I'm not willing to do what they do."

Ibrahim thought a little. To put an end to this scene he said, "That's enough for now. We'll continue this discussion another time."

Khadija started to say something, but her husband stopped her and took her by the hand. The couple left the study to resume their places in the sitting room, where they went over the topic, considering it from every angle. After a lot of give-and-take, Ibrahim felt inclined to support his son's request. He took it upon himself to convince his wife. Once she had accepted the notion in principle, Ibrahim said, "We have Na'ima, my niece. We won't need to tire ourselves out searching for a bride."

Capitulating, Khadija said, "I'm the one who persuaded you to renounce your share of your late brother's estate for Aisha's sake. So I have no objection to the choice of Na'ima as a bride for my son. I'm very concerned about Aisha's happiness, as you know. But I'm afraid of her melancholy brooding and am very apprehensive about her eccentric behavior. Haven't you hinted to her repeatedly that we would like Na'ima to marry Abd al-Muni'm? All the same I think she was ready to accept Jamil al-Hamzawi's son when al-Hamzawi proposed it."

"That's ancient history. A year or more has passed since then, and praise God nothing has come of it. No matter how good a position he has, it would have done me no honor to have a young man like that marry my niece. As far as I'm concerned, a man's family origin is everything, and Na'ima is very dear to us."

Sighing, Khadija agreed, "Very, very dear. What do you suppose my father will say about this foolishness when he learns of it?"

Ibrahim replied, "I'm sure he'll welcome it. Everything about it seems like a dream, but I won't regret it. I'm positive that it would be an unforgivable error to ignore Abd al-Muni'm's request, so long as it's within our power to grant it."