Book Three of the Cairo Trilogy 24 страница

Her eyes red from crying, Khadija was seated on the bed by her mother's feet. The despair that had never left her face since the government had laid hands on her sons was plainly visible. Zanuba, Aisha, and Umm Hanafi sat silently on the sofa. Aisha was smoking a cigarette quickly and anxiously. Meanwhile her eyes scouted the room with nervous agitation.

Kamal asked, "How is she?"

Aisha replied in a loud voice that suggested a worried protest, "She doesn't want to wake up!"

He chanced to turn toward Khadija, and they exchanged a long look of mournful understanding and shared sorrow. Sensing that he might lose control of himself, Kamal darted from the room to rejoin his companions.

They walked slowly down the street and traversed the Goldsmiths Bazaar without saying much of anything. On reaching al-Sanadiqiya, they ran into Shaykh Mutawalli Abd al-Samad, who was hobbling along unsteadily with the help of his cane. He was blind, and his arms trembled as he turned from side to side asking in a loud voice, "Which way to paradise?"

A passerby laughingly suggested, "First turn on your right."

Yasin asked Riyad Qaldas, "Would you believe that this man is almost ten years over a hundred?"

Smiling, Riyad answered, "He's hardly a man now, whatever his age."

Kamal looked fondly at the shaykh, who made him think of his father. He had once considered this man a landmark of the neighborhood like the ancient fountain building, the mosque of Qala'un, and the vault of Qirrniz Alley. The shaykh still encountered many who were sympathetic to him, but there were always boys to plague him by whistling at him or by following him and imitating his gestures.

The two brothers escorted Riyad to the streetcar stop and waited with him until he boarded. Then they returned to al-Ghuriya. Kamal suddenly stopped and told Yasin, "It's time for you to go to the coffeehouse."

Yasin replied sharply, "Certainly not! I'll stay with you."

Knowing his brother's temperament as well as anyone, Kamal said, "There's absolutely no need ofthat."

Yasin pushed Kamal along ahead of him, protesting, "She's my mother as much as yours."

All at once Kamal felt fearful for Yasin. It was true that he was brimming with life and as huge as a camel, but how much longer could he endure an existence so dominated by passion's impulses? Kamal'sheart filled with sorrow, but his thoughts suddenly flew to the detention camp of al-Tur.

"I believe in life and in people". That was what Ahmad had said. "I feel obliged to advocate their highest ideals as long as I believe them to be true, since shrinking from that would be a cowardly evasion of duty. I also see myself compelled to revolt against ideals I believe to be false, since recoiling from this rebellion would be a form of treason."

Kamal had long wondered what was true and what was false, but perhaps doubt was as much of an evasion of responsibility as mysticism or a passive belief in science.

"Could you be a model teacher, an exemplary husband, and a lifelong revolutionary?" he asked himself.

When they reached al-Sharqawi's store, Yasin stopped and explained, "Karima asked me to get some things she needs for the baby, if you don't mind."

They entered the small shop, and Yasin selected the items his daughter had requested: diapers, a bonnet, and a nightgown. Then Kamal remembered that the black necktie he had worn for a year following his father's death was threadbare and that he would be needing a new one when the mournful day arrived. He told the man, when Yasin was finished, "A black necktie, please."

Each one took his package, and they left the store. The setting of the sun was washing the world with a sepia tint as side by side they walked back to the house.

The End

Дата добавления: 2015-09-29