Sugar Street

137

Leaning on his stick, Ahmad Abd al-Jawad left his house with slow steps. Things had changed. Since the liquidation of his store, he left home but once a day, for he tried to spare himself the stress that climbing the stairs put on his heart. Although it was only September, he had chosen wool garments. His thin frame could no longer bear the brisk weather his plump and powerful body had once enjoyed. The stick, which had been his companion since he was a young man, when it had been a symbol of virility and of elegance, now helped support him as he plodded along slowly. Even this level of exertion was a trial for his heart. All the same he had not lost his dapper good looks. He still dressed quite splendidly, used a fragrant cologne, and took full advantage of the charm and dignity of old age.

When he drew near the store, his eyes glanced toward it involuntarily. The sign that had borne his name and his father's for years and years had been removed, and the appearance and use of the establishment had changed. It had become a fez shop, where new ones were sold and old ones blocked. The copper forms and the heating apparatus were up in front. He imagined he saw a placard, invisible to everyone else, informing him that his time had passed… his time for serious endeavors, hard work, and pleasure. Retreating into retirement, he had turned his back on hope, finding himself face to face with old age, ill health, and the need to idle his time away. He had always been full of love for the world and its pleasures. Often he still was, but now his spirits sank. He had considered faith itself one of the joys of life and a reason for embracing the world. He had never not even now pursued the kind of ascetic piety that turns its back on the world and concerns itself solely with the afterlife. The store was no longer his, but how could he erase its memory from his mind, when it had been the hub of his activities, the focus of his attention, the meeting place for his friends and lovers, and the source of his renown and prestige?

"You may console yourself by saying, 'We've found husbands for the girls and reared the boys. We've lived to see our grandchildren. We have enough money to keep us till we die. We've experienced life's delights for years.' Has it really been years? 'Now the time has come for us to show our gratitude, and it is our obligation to thank God always and forever.' But oh how nostalgic I feel…. May God forgive time — time, which by the mere fact of its uninterrupted existence betrays man in the worst possible way. If stones could speak, I would ask this site to inform me about the past, to tell me if this body could really crush mountains once. Did this sick heart beat regularly then? Did this mouth do anything but laugh? Was pain an unknown emotion? Was this the image of me treasured by every heart? … Again, I ask God to forgive time."

When his deliberate pace finally brought him to the mosque of al-Husayn, he removed his shoes and entered, reciting the opening prayer of the Qur'an. He made his way to the pulpit area, where he found Muhammad Iffat and Ibrahim al-Far waiting for him. They all performed the sunset prayer together and then left the mosque, heading for al-Tambakshiya to visit Ali Abd al-Rahim. Each of them had retired due to ill health, but they were in better shape than Ali Abd al-Rahim, who was bedridden.

Sighing, al-Sayyid Ahmad said, "I imagine that soon the sole way I'll be able to get to the mosque is by riding."

"You're not the only one!"

Then al-Sayyid Ahmad added anxiously, "I'm dreadfully afraid I'll be confined to bed like Mr. Ali. I pray that God will favor me with death before my strength gives out."

"May our Lord spare you and the rest of us every misfortune."

As if frightened by the thought, he commented, "Ghunaym Hamidu lay paralyzed in bed for about a year. Sadiq al-Mawardi suffered the same kind of torment for months. May God grant us a speedy end when the time comes."

Muhammad Iffat laughed and said, "If you let gloomy thoughts get the better of you, you'll be nothing but a woman. Declare that there is only one God, brother."

When they reached the home of Ali Abd al-Rahim, they went to his room. Before they could say anything, he blurted out unhappily, "You're late, may God forgive you."

The vexation of the bedridden man was visible in his eyes. The only time he ever smiled was when they were with him. He complained, "All day long my only occupation is listening to the radio. What would I do if it had not yet been introduced to Egypt? I enjoy everything that's broadcast, even lectures I can barely understand. All the same we're not so old that we should be suffering like this. Our grandfathers married new wives at this age."

Ahmad Abd al-Jawad's sense of humor got the better of him, and he observed, "That's an idea! What do you think about us taking another wife? Perhaps that would bring back our youth and cure what ails us."

Ali Abd al-Rahim smiled but refrained from laughing for fear he would break into a fit of coughing that would strain his heart. "I'm with you!" he said. "Select a bride for me. But tell her frankly that the bridegroom can't move and that it's all up to her."

As though suddenly remembering something, al-Far told him, "Ahmad Abd al-Jawad will see a great-grandchild before you do. May our Lord prolong his life."

"Congratulations in advance, son of Abd al-Jawad."

Al-Sayyid Ahmad frowned as he replied, "Na'ima is pregnant, but I have some misgivings. I still remember what was said about her heart when she was born. I've tried without success to forget that for a long time."

"What an ungrateful soul you are! Since when do you put your faith in the prophecies of physicians?"

Laughing, al-Sayyid Ahmad answered, "Since I'm kept awake till dawn whenever I eat anything they've forbidden me."

Ali Abd al-Rahim asked, "What about our Lord's compassion?"

"Praise to God, Lord of the universe". Then he added, "I'm not oblivious to God's mercy, but fear spawns fear. Ali, the fact is that I'm more worried about Aisha than Na'ima. All my anxieties in life converge on Aisha, that miserable darling. When I leave her, she'll be alone in the world."

Ibrahim al-Far commented, "Our Lord is always present. He is the ultimate guardian for everyone."

They were silent for a time. Finally Ali Abd al-Rahim's voice curtailed the silence: "It will be my turn after yours to see a greatgrandchild."

Al-Sayyid Ahmad laughed and said, "May God forgive girls for making parents and grandparents old before their time."

Muhammad Iffat cried out, 'Old man, admit you're old and stop being so obstinate."

"You mustn't raise your voice for fear my heart will hear you and act up. It's like a spoiled child."

Shaking his head sorrowfully, Ibrahim al-Far said, "What a year we've had…. It's been rough. It hasn't left any of us in good shape — as if ill health had booked an appointment with us."

"In the words of Abd al-Wahhab's song, 'Let's live together and die together.'"

The} all laughed. Ali Abd al-Rahim changed his tone and asked seriously, "Is it right? I mean what al-Nuqrashi did?"

Ahmad Abd al-Jawad frowned as he answered, "I hoped so much that things would return to normal…. I ask the forgiveness of God Almighty."

"A fraternal bond developed through a lifetime of shared struggle went up in smoke."

"Nowadays all good deeds go up in smoke."

Ahmad Abd al-Jawad continued: "Nothing has made me so sad as al-Nuqrashi's departure from the Wafd. He should not have carried the dispute that far."

"What fate do you suppose awaits him?"

"The inevitable one, for where are rebels like al-Basil and al-Shamsi today? This valiant leader has sealed his own fate and taken Ahmad Mahir down with him."

Then Muhammad Iffat said nervously, "Spare us this story. I'm about ready to renounce politics."

Al-Far had an idea and asked with a smile, "If we were forced — God forbid it to take to our beds, like Mr. Ali, how would we meet and converse with each other?"

Muhammad Iffat murmured, "God's will be done — not yours!"

Ahmad Abd al-Jawad laughed and replied, "If the worst happens, then we'll talk to each other by radio, the way Papa Soot talks to the children when he does his show."

They laughed together. Muhammad Iffat took out his watch to consult it. Ali Abd al-Rahim became alarmed and said, "You'll stay with me until the doctor comes, so you can hear what he has to say — may he and his days be cursed."