quest and trust in God. Don't reject my hand. I haven't made this
offer to anyone before you."
The gentleman cloaked his feelings with a smile and said, "This is
an enormous honor, as I told you a moment ago.... If you would
just be patient with me for a short time while | pull myself" together
and straighten things out, you will find that my opinion corresponds
to your wishes, God willing."
She said, in the tone of a person wishing to terminate a conversa
PALACE WALK 239
tion, "I won't waste any more of your time than I have. The longer
this give-and-take is drawn out, the more | think you're not really
accepting my request. A woman like me wants you to say yes at once
and not beat around the bush when she asks for something. I'll only
add one word to what I've said: Khalil is as much your child as mine
and the same holds true for Aisha."
She rose and al-Sayyid Abroad sood up to say goodbye to her.
He was expecting only a word of farewell, hut she insisted on reitero
ating ever3hing she had said. She seemed to fear he might miss some
nuance and so repeated it all in detail. Before he knew what was
happening, or she did either, she was harking back to corroborate
some of her ideas and substantiate others. One idea led to another
and she rambled on without interference until she had repeated most
of what she had earlier said about the engagement. Nor did she care
to conclude her remarks before paying her respects to the suhiec of
the banished mother with a word or two or three. Then once more
she was overpowered by the association of ideas and carried on until
the man had trouble controlling his nerves. He almost laughed when
she finally told him, "I won't waste any more of your time than l
already have."
He escorted her to the door, apprehensive at each step that she
might stop walking and take another shot at conversation. When he
could at last sit down again, he was breathing heavily. He was distressed
and dejected. He had a sensitive heart, more sensitive than
most people would have suspected. In fact, it was too sensitive. How
could anyone believe that who had only seen him grinning, bellowing,
or laughing sarcastically?... Sorrow was going to scorch his
flesh and blood in a way that could spoil his whole life, making it
seem ugly to him. How happy it would make him to spare no expense
to delight both his daughters, the one in whose beautiful face
he could detect a resemblance to his mother's and the other girl who
had only received a faint glimmer of good looks. Each of them was
a vital part of him.
The husband whom the widow of the late Mr. Shawkat was offering
was a catch in every sense of the word. He was a young man of
twenty-five with a monthly income of not less than thirty pounds. It
was true that, like many members of the elite, he had no occupation
and little education, the latter not extending beyond knowledge of
reading and writing. All the same, he had many of his father's good
qualities. He was pleasant, generous, and polite.
What should he do? He had to make up his mind. He did not
23°
Naguib Mahfou.
usually hesitate or ask for advice. It was not acceptable, even for a
brief moment, for him to appear indecisive to his family, as though
he did not know what he thought. Could he not consult with his
closest friends? He was not ashamed to do that when something serious
came up. In fact, their evenings usually began with a discussion
of worries and problems before wine transported them to a world
where worries and problems were unknown. He realized that he was
very opinionated and would not deviate from what he believed. He
was the kind of person who requests advice to shore up his opinion,
not to undermine it. Even so, that would provide consolation and
relief.
When the man was exasperated with thinking he cried out, "Who
would believe that the unbearable state I'm in results from a blessing
God has bestowed upon me?"
Amina had no occupation during her exile other than sitting beside
her mother and discussing at length anything that came to mind.
They had talks about the distant and not so distant past and the
present, ranging from precious memories to the current drama. Had
it not been for the painful separation and the specter of divorce, she
would have been content with her new life. It was like a restful holiday
after the burden of her duties or a voyage to a world of memories.
When days passed with nothing happening to frighten her and
when she heard about the mediation by Umm Maryam and Widow
Shawkat, she felt less apprehensive and more relaxed. Moreover, the
evening visits of the boys continued without interruption and
breathed new hope into her breast. She got to spend almost as much
time with them in the new house as in the old one. In both instances,
she was separated from them until they were free to come to the
evening reunion. Even so, she longed for them like an emigrant in a
distant land parted by fate from her loved ones. She yearned for them,
feeling deprived because she could not breathe the same air, share
their memories, and supervise their workaday and leisure activities.
Every inch a person's body travels on the road of separation seems
like miles to the heart.
When the old lady found her silent or sensed that her daughter's
thoughts were wandering, she would tell her, "Patience, Amina. I
feel sorry for you. A mother away from her children is a stranger.
She's a stranger even if she's staying in the house where she was
born."
Yes, she was a stranger. The house might just as well not have
been the only home she had known as a child. Her mother was no
longer that mother she could not bear to leave for even a moment.
So long as the house was her place of exile where she waited
regretfully for a word of pardon from heaven, it could not be her
home.
After a long interval her pardon did arrive. The boys brought it
one evening. When they came, their eyes flashed like lightning. Her
Naguib Mahfou:g
heart pounded so hard it shook her whole chest. She was apprehensive
about giving this sign a grander interpretation than it deserved,
but Kamal ran toward her and put his arms around her neck. Then,
beside himself with joy, he yelled to her, "Put on your wrap and
come with us."
Yasin roared with laughter and said, "It's all over." t
Then he and Fahmy together said, "Father summoned us and told
us, 'Go get your mother.'"
She lowered her eyes to hide her overwhelming joy. She could not
conceal the emotions rocking her sou]. Her face seemed an extremely
accurate mirror, registering everything that was inside her, no matter
how small. She wanted so much to receive the happy news with a
composure befitting her maternal role, but she was transported by
joy. The features of her face laughingly expressed her childish delight.
At the same time she felt ashamed, although she did not know
why. She remained motionless for so long that Kamal's patience was
exhausted. He pulled her by the hand, putting his entire weight into
it until she yielded and rose. She stood for a little while in a strange
confusion. Before she realized what she was doing she turned and
asked, "Should I go, Mother?"
This question sounded peculiar and slipped out with an inflection
of confusion and embarrassment. Fahmy and Yasin smiled. Only Ka
real was astonished and almost alarmed. He affirmed to her once
more the news of the pardon they brought.
The grandmother had sensed everything her daughter was feeling
and surmised what was going on inside her. Her heart was touched.
Taking care not to appear surprised by the question, not even registering
so much as a faint smile, she replied seriously, "Go to your
house, and may the peace of God go with you."
Amina went to put on her wrap and bundle up her clothes, with
Kamal following at her heels. The grandmother asked the young men
in a critical tone softened by a tender smile, "Wouldn't it have been
more appropriate for your father to come himself?."
Fahmy answered apologetically, "Grandmother, you know very
well what my father's like."
Yasin laughed and observed, "Let's thank God for what's happened."
The grandmother muttered something they could not understand.
Then she sighed and said, as though replying to her own muttering,
"In any case, al-Sayyid Ahmad's not a man like the others."
They left the house with their grandmother's prayers and blessings
PALACE WALK 233
ringing in their ears. For the first time in their lives they walked along
the street together. They found it an extraordinary event. Fahmy and
Yasin exchanged smiling glances. Kamal remembered the day he had
gone along, as he was now, holding his mother's hand tight and
leading her from alley to alley. Then there had ensued the pains and
fears that were even worse than a nightmare. He marveled about it
for some time but soon was able to overlook the sorrows of the past
in favor of the joy of the present. He found himself wanting to jest.
He laughingly suggested to his mother, "Come on, let's sneak off to
our master al-Husayn."
Yasin laughed and commented allusively, "May God be pleased
with him. He's a martyr and loves martyrs."
They could see the protruding wooden balcony of their house and
two shapes moving behind the spindles of its latticework. The mother's
heart fluttered with affection and longing at the sight of her
daughters. Just inside the door she found Umm Hanafi waiting to
welcome her and smother her mistress's hands with kisses. In the
courtyard she met Khadija and Aisha, who clung to her like little
girls.
They climbed the stairs in a tumultuous parade with exhilarating
and frenzied happiness. They came to a halt in her room. Each one
tried to help her remove her wrap, that symbol of the loathsome
separation, as they roared with laughter. When she sat down among
them she was breathless from the impact of her emotions. Kamal
wanted to tell her how happy he was. The best way he found to put
it was: "Today's dearer to me even than the procession with the holy
shrine on the camel when the pilgrims leave for Mecca."
For the first time in a long while all the regulars were present at
the coffee hour. They resumed their evening chat in an atmosphere
of delight. Its splendor was doubled by the days of separation and
dejection preceding it, just as the pleasure of a warm day is greater
if it follows a frigid week. The joy of the reunion notwithstanding,
the mother did not forget to ask the girls about the household affairs,
progressing from the oven room all the way up to the hyacinth beans
and jasmine. She also asked a lot about their father. She was delighted
to learn that he had not allowed anyone to assist him with removing
or putting on his clothes. Whatever rest she might have afforded him
by her absence, a change had crept into the system of his life, which
had without doubt imposed a burden on him that would disappear
now that she was back. Her return, and that alone, would guarantee
him the kind of life he was accustomed to and comfortable with.
Naguib Mafou
One thing that did not occur to Amina was that some of the hearts
happy at her return discovered in this return itself a reason for brooding
about their sorrow and pain. Yet this is what happened. These
hearts, distracted from their sorrows by their mother's, began to think I
again about their own worries now they were reassured about their
mother's well-being. In the same way, when we have acute but temporary
intestinal pain we forget our chronic eye inflammation, but
once the intestinal distress is relieved, the pain in the eyes returns.
Fahmy was telling himself, "It appears that every sorrow has an
end. My mother's affliction is over. But it seems my sorrow will never
end." Aisha resumed her own reflections, to which no one else was
privy. Her dreams and memories visited her, although compared with
her brother she was considerably calmer and readier to forget.
Amina could not read their thoughts, and nothing disturbed her
serenity. When she retired to her room that night it was clear she
would not be able to sleep, her mind was so overflowing with happiness.
She only dozed off a few times before she got out of bed at
midnight. She went to the balcony as usual to gaze through the latticework
screens at the wakeful street until the carriage bringing her
husband home swayed into sight.
Her heart beat violently, and she blushed with shame and confusion.
She might well have been meeting her husband for the first
time. Had she not reflected about this moment for a long time.., the
awaited moment of reunion and how she would approach him? How
would he treat her after this long separation? What could she say to
him, or him to her? If only she could pretend to be asleep. But she
had no talent at all for acting and could not bear for him to find her
lying down when he came in. Yes, she would not be able to neglect
her duty to go to the stairway with a lamp to light the way for him.
Over and above all these considerations, after winning the right to
return and overcoming his anger at her, she felt good. She forgave
everything that had happened and assumed full responsibility for the
offense, to the point of thinking that, although her husband had not
taken the trouble to go to her mother's house to reach a settlement
with her, he deserved to be treated in a conciliatory fashion.
She took the lamp and went to the staircase. She held her arm out
over the railing and stood there with a throbbing heart, listening to
the sound of his approaching footsteps, until he made his way up to
her. She greeted him with her head bowed, so she did not see his
face when they met. She did not know if any change had taken place
in his appearance since she last saw him. She heard him say in a
PALACE WALK ' 2.,"
normal voice that bore no trace of the painful recent past, "Good
evening."
She mumbled, "Good evening, sir."
He went to his room. She trailed after him holding up the lamp.
He began to remove his clothes silently. She went to assist him. She
set to work, privately heaving sighs of relief. She remembered the illfated
morning of the separation when he had risen to don his clothes
and told her harshly, "I'll put my clothes on myself." The memory,
though, lacked any of the feelings of pain and sorrow that had overwhelmed
her at the time. As she carried out this service for him,
which he had not allowed anyone else to perform, she felt she was
reclaiming the dearest thing she possessed in all the world.
He took his place on the sofa and she sat cross-legged on the pallet
at his feet, without either of them uttering a word. She expected him
to put the painful past to rest with some word of advice or admonition.
She had prepared herself for that in a thousand different ways.
All he did was ask her, "How's your mother?"
Sighing with relief, she answered, "Fine, sir. She sends you her
greetings and prayers."
Another period of silence passed before he remarked with apparent
disinterest, "The widow of the late Mr. Shawkat disclosed to me her
wish to choose Aisha as Khalil's wife."
Amina looked up at him in an astonishment that eloquently revealed
the impact of the surprise on her. He shrugged his shoulders
as though it was nothing. Fearing she might express an opinion that
happened to agree with his decision, which he bad kept secret from
everyone, and would then suspect he had taken her advice, he quickly
added, "I've thought about the matter for a long time and have decided
to accept. I don't want to interfere with my daughter's fortune
any more than I have already. The matter is in God's hands, both
now and later."
Aisha received the good news with the joy of a girl who since early
childhood had cherished the dream of getting married. She could
scarcely believe her ears when she was told about it. Had her father
actually agreed? Had marriage become an imminent reality and not a
dream or a cruel joke? No more than three months had passed since
the disappointment she had suffered. Although the impact on her of
that experience had been harsh and intense, with the passing days it
"had become lighter and weaker, turning into a pale memory, which
when aroused would excite only a gentle sorrow of no particular
significance.
Everything in the house yielded blindly to a higher will with a
limitless authority almost like that of religion. Within these walls
even love itself had to creep into their hearts timidly, hesitantly, and
diffidently. It did not eni0y its normal influence or dominance. The
only dominant force here was that higher will. Therefore, when her
father had said no, his verdict had become lodged in the depths of
her soul. The girl had firmly believed that everything was really over,
since there was no way to escape or to ask for a review. She had no
hope that anything would help. It was as though this "no" were one
of the processes of nature, like the alternation of night and day. No
obiection to it would be of any significance, since only obedience was
allowed. This belief of hers, whether conscious or not, worked to
erminate everything, and terminated it was.
Aisha wondered privately whether her current good fortune did
not embrace an incomprehensible contradiction. Less than three
months after one reiection, permission had been granted for her to
marry. Thus she would not be part of the destiny of the young man
for whom her heart had yearned. She kept this thought to herself,
and no one learned about it, not even her mother. To announce her
happiness with a suitor, even one of whom she had only the vaguest
concept, would be a wanton affront to modesty. It would have been
inconceivable for her to express a desire for some specific man. In
spite all this and despite the fact that she knew nothing about the
new bridegroom except what her mother had mentioned in a general
PALACE WALK 257
discussion of" his family, Aisha was happy beyond words with the
good news. Her eager emotions had found a pole toward which to
gravitate. Her love seemed to be more a disposition than an attachment
to any particular man. Even if one man was disqualified and
another took his place, she was satisfied and everything was fine. She
might prefer one man over another but not enough to destroy her
taste for life or to push her into rebellion and revolt.
Now that she was in good spirits and her heart fluttered with delight,
she felt, as she usually did in such circumstances, pure affection
and sympathy for her sister. She wished that Khadija had married
first. By way of apology" and encouragement she told her, "I wish
you'd been the first to marry... but it's fate and destiny. It will all
come soon."
Khadija did not enjoy affectionate words of comfort when defeated.
She received Aisha's statement with unconcealed annoyance. Their
mother had already apologized to her delicately: "We all wanted your
turn to come first. We acted on this assumption more than once, but
perhaps it is our stubbornness about something beyond our control
that has thwarted your luck until now. Let's allow things to proceed
as God wills. Something good comes out of every delay."
Khadija found that Yasin and Fahmy were also full of affection for
her, whether they expressed it in words or revealed it by being nice
to her, at least for the moment, instead of resorting to the stinging
humor customary between them, especially between her and Yasin.
The only thing matching Khadija's sorrow at her bad luck was her
nervousness about the affection smothering her, but not because of
an innate aversion to sympathy. She was like a patient with influenza
whose health would be harmed by exposure to the fresh air that
would normally invigorate him when well. She discounted this affec-tion as a triqing substitute for lost hope and may well have been
suspicious of their motives for showering it on her. Was her mother
not always the intermediary between the matchmakers and her father?
How could Khadija know whether her mother's mediation had
been confined to carrying out the duties of the mistress of the house
and had not been influenced by a covert desire for Aisha to get married?
Was it not Fahmy who brought the message from the officer at
the Gamaliya police station? Could he not have acted deftly behind
the scenes to change the officer's mind?
Was it not true that Yasin... but why should she blame Yasin
when a brother even more closely related to her than Yasin had let
her down? What kind of affection was this? No, one should ask what
Naguib Mahfou
kind of hypocrisy and what kind of a lie. Therefore she was impatient
with all the sympathy. It reminded her of their ill treatment, not their
beneficence. She was filled with resentment and anger but concealed
that deep inside her so as not to appear displeased by her sister's
happiness. She did not care to expose herself, as her suspicious nature
made her think she might, to the abuse of anyone wishing to revile
her. In any case, there was no alternative to suppression of her emotions,
because in this family that was an ingrained custom and a moral
imperative established by threat of paternal terror. Between her
hatred and resentment on one side and concealment and pretended
delight on the other, her life was a continual torment and an uninterrupted
effort.
What about her father? What had made him alter his former opinion?
How could she seem so unimportant to him now, after he had
cherished her? Had he lost patience waiting for her to get married
and decided to sacrifice her, leaving her to her fate? She could not
get over her amazement at the way they were abandoning her as
though she did not exist. In her rebellious mood, she forgot how they
had stood up for her previously. Now all she remembered was their
betrayal.
Her anger for everyone in general was nothing compared with the
feelings of jealousy and resentment against Aisha that she had packed
into her breast. She hated her happiness. Most of all she hated Aisha's
attempt to hide her happiness. She hated her beauty, which to Khadija's
eyes appeared to be an instrument of torture and oppression. In
much the same way, a man stalking prey finds the glistening full
moon oppressive. She hated life too. It held nothing for her but despair.
The progression of days only added to tier sorrows as the
presents of the bridegroom were brought to the house along with
little tokens of his affection. While the house was filled with an atmosphere
of unadulterated delight and happiness, she found herself
in a forlorn isolation that was as fertile a breeding ground for sorrows
as a stagnant pond is for insects.
Then al-Sayyid Ahmad began to outfit the bride. Talk about the
trousseau dominated the family's evening reunions. The bride was
shown various styles of furniture and clothing. She would praise one
and shun another, comparing one color with a second with such
concern that everyone forgot the elder sister and her need for consolation
and flattery. Khadija was.even forced, since she was pretending
to be delighted about everything, to join energetically and
enthusiastically in their interminable discussions. This complex emo
PALACE WALK
tional situation might have appeared to a stranger to portend only
evil, but there was a sudden change when attention was directed to
making the wedding gown. Then all eyes were fixed on Khadija with
great interest and hope. She had dreaded this task as an inescapable
duty she hated to accept but was unable to.decline, for fear of revealing
her concealed emotions. But her resentment faded away and
modesty brought her rebellion under control once their attention was
focused on her.
Her mother urged her to do a good job for her sister. Aisha's
eyes were filled with embarrassment and entreaty when she gazed
at Khadija. Fahmy told Aisha in her hearing, "You won't be a real
bride until Khadija makes your wedding gown."
Yasin agreed: "You're right... that's a fact."
Khadija's latent good nature came to the surface like a green plant
emerging from a seed hidden beneath the mud once sweet water has
been provided. She did not suspect the motives of this interest in
her the way she had previously. She knew this was genuine and
directed at her unquestionable skill. It constituted a general admission
of her importance and significance. Although happiness was not hers
to enjoy, it would not be fully realized until she contributed to it.
She set about this new project with a heart totally cleansed of her
hostile emotions. Although members of this family, like most other
people, were subject to feelings of anger, they never were so afflicted
that their hearts were hostile in a consistent or deep-rooted fashion.
Some of them had a capacity for anger like that of alcohol for combustion,
but their anger would be quickly extinguished. Then their
souls would be tranquil and their hearts full of forgiveness. Similarly
in Cairo, during the winter, the sky can be gloomy with clouds and
it even drizzles, but in an hour or less the clouds will have scattered
to reveal a pure blue sky and a laughing sun.
Khadija had not forgotten her sorrows, but her generosity had
purified them of malice and resentment. With each passing day she
was less inclined to find fault with Aisha or some family member
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