doubt and hope. He did not fight his feeling of being liberated to the farthest horizons by his happiness. He was conscious of nothing but dancing melodies. Although she did not glance up at him, her demeanor, the blush on her cheeks, and her avoidance of looking at him all betrayed how intensely conscious she was of his presence, or the impact he had made on her feelings. Composed and still, she appeared to be very reserved, as though she was not the same girl who spread joy and delight throughout his house when she visited his sister and her voice carried through the house accompanied by her sonorous laughter. He would crouch behind the door of his room with a book in his hand, ready to pretend he was memorizing his lesson if anyone knocked on the door. He would intercept the melodious sounds of her words and laughter by concentrating on separating them from the other voices that blended with hers. His mind was like a magnet attracting to itself only the bits of steel from a mixture of various materials. He might catch a glimpse of her as he crossed the sitting room. Their eyes might meet in a glance which, though fleeting, would be enough to intoxicate him and stun him as though he had received a message with it so momentous it made his head spin. He nourished his eyes and spirit with glimpses of her face. Even though the looks were furtive and fleeting, they took control of his spirit and senses. They were strong and penetrating. A single one conveyed more than a lengthy gaze or a deep investigation. They were like a burst of lightning glowing for a brief moment, its flash illuminating vast expanses and dazzling the eyes. His heart was drunk with a mysterious and intoxicating joy, even though it was never free of a sorrow which trailed it, like the troublesome Khamsin winds from the sandy desert trailing the advent of spring. He could not stop thinking about the four years it would take to complete his education. During that time, countless hands might stretch out to pluck this ripe fruit. If the atmosphere of the house had not been so suffocating, with his father’s iron grip tight around his neck, he would have been able to seek a more direct route to reassure his heart. He was afraid to breathe a word about his hopes and expose them to the harsh rebuke of his father, which would scatter them and send them flying off.
He asked himself what she was thinking as he looked out over his brother’s head. Was it really nothing more than taking in the laundry? Had she not yet felt what motivated him to stand here evening after evening? What was her heart’s response to these daring steps of his? He imagined himself hopping over the wall that separated the roofs to join her where she stood in the dusk. He imagined her reaction in different ways. She would be waiting for him by appointment or would be surprised at his advance and start to flee. Then he thought about what would come next-the confession, complaint, and censure. In either case, hugging and kissing might follow, but these were mere speculations and flights of the imagination. Fahmy was well grounded in religion and manners and knew how unrealistic and absurd they were.
It was a silent scene, but the silence was electric and could almost speak without a tongue. Even Kamal had an anxious look in his small eyes, as though asking about the meaning of this strange seriousness that excited his curiosity pointlessly. Then, his patience exhausted, he raised his voice to say, 'I've memorized the words. Aren't you going to listen to me?'
Fahmy was roused by his voice and took the notebook from him. He proceeded to ask him the meanings of the words while Kamal answered, until Fahmy’s eyes fell on a beloved one. He discovered an extraordinary link between it and his present situation. He raised his voice intentionally when he asked what it meant: 'Heart?'
The boy answered him and spelled the word, while Fahmy tried to discern her reaction. He raised his voice once more and asked, 'Love?'
Kamal was a little disconcerted. Then he said in a voice that showed he was objecting, 'This word isn't in the notebook'.
Smiling, Fahmy said, 'But I've mentioned it to you repeatedly. You ought to know it by heart'.
The boy frowned, as though by contracting the arch of his eyebrows he could fish out the fugitive word. His brother, though, did not wait for the results of this attempt. He continued his examination in the same loud voice, saying, 'Marriage…'
He thought he noticed the semblance of a smile on her lips at that. His heart beat rapidly and feverishly. He was filled with a sense of victory, because he had at last been able to transmit to her a charge of the electricity blazing in his heart. He wondered why it was this word which elicited a reaction from her. Was it because she disapproved of what preceded, or was it the first she heard?
Before he knew it, he heard Kamal protesting, after being unable to remember the answer, 'These words are very hard'.
His heart affirmed his brother’s innocent statement. He reflected on his situation in light of it. His joy at once subsided, or almost. He wanted to speak, but he saw she had bent over the basket. She picked it up and approached the wall adjoining the roof of his house. She placed the basket on top of the wall and began to press the laundry down with the palms of her hands. She was close to him, separated by little more than a meter. Had she wanted to, she could have chosen another place on the wall, but she had deliberately confronted him. She had acted so aggressively that she seemed daring to a degree that frightened and perplexed him. His heartbeats were fast and feverish once more. He felt life was disclosing to him a new variety of treasure he had never experienced before. It was charming, delightful, vital, and enjoyable. She did not stand close to him long, for at once she lifted the basket and turned to go to the door leading down from the roof. She darted away from him and disappeared from sight. He stared at the door for some time, oblivious to his brother, who repeated his complaint about the difficulty of the word.
Fahmy felt a desire to be alone to enjoy this new experience of love. He looked out into space and pretended to be astonished, as though he had just noticed for the first time the darkness marching across the horizon. He muttered, 'It’s time for us to go in…'
11
Kamal was memorizing his lessons in the sitting room. He had left Fahmy alone in the study in order to be closer to his mother and sisters, who were enjoying a continuation of the coffee party limited to women. Their talk, however trifling, provided them with incomparable delight, and as usual they sat so close to each other they seemed a single body with three heads.
Kamal sat cross-legged on the sofa facing them. He had his book open in his lap. He would read for a while and then close his eyes to try to learn some by heart. At intervals he would amuse himself by looking at them and listening to their conversation. Fahmy only grudgingly agreed to let him study his lessons away from his supervision, but the boy’s excellent performance in school provided him with an excuse to choose any place he wanted for studying. In fact, his diligence was his only virtue worth praising and, had it not been for his naughtiness, it would have won encouragement even from his father.
Despite his diligence and superior performance, he got bored at times and felt so disgusted with work and discipline that he envied his mother and sisters their ignorance and the rest and peace they enjoyed. Privately he even wished the destiny of men in this world was like that of women, but these were fleeting moments. He never forgot the advantages he possessed, which inspired him frequently to lord it over them and brag, even for no reason at all. It was not unusual for him to ask them, his voice resounding with challenge, 'Who knows the capital of the Cape?' or 'How do you say 'boy' in French?'
He would encounter a polite silence from Aisha. Khadija would acknowledge her ignorance, but retort, 'Only a person with a head like yours can handle such riddles'.
Her mother would comment with innocent self-confidence: 'If you'd teach me these things the way you do religious studies, I'd know them as well as you'. In spite of her gentleness and humility, she was intensely proud of her general knowledge, which had come down to her from antiquity through successive generations. She did not feel in need of further education or suspect there was any new knowledge worth adding to the religious, historical, and medical information she already possessed. Her faith her learning was doubled by the fact that she had gotten it straight from her father, or by growing up in his house, and that her father was a shaykh and one of the religious scholars God favored over all creation, because they knew the Qur'an by heart. It was inconceivable that any knowledge could equal his, although, in the interest of keeping the peace, she did not mention this to the others.
She frequently disapproved of things the boys were told in school. She was upset either because of the explanations provided or because young minds were allowed to learn such things. Fortunately, she did not detect a difference worth mentioning between what the boy was told in school about religion and her own knowledge of it.
