suggested by this term. He had shrunk back in retreat. From that day on, Mr. Muhammad Ridwan had aroused his pity and a curiosity mixed with fear.
He passed by the next room and saw Maryam’s mother standing in front of the mirror. There was a doughlike substance in her hand which she was stretching over her cheek and neck. She pulled it off in rapid, successive motions. Then she felt where it had been with her fingers to assure herself that the hair had been pulled out and her skin was smooth. Although she was over forty, she was as extraordinarily beautiful as her daughter. She loved to laugh and joke. Whenever she saw him she would greet him merrily, kiss him, and ask him, as though her patience was exhausted, 'When are you going to grow up so I can marry you?' He would be overcome by embarrassment and confusion, but he enjoyed her jesting and would have liked even more.
He was curious about this procedure she carried out in front of the mirror from time to time. He had asked his mother about it once, but she had scolded him, reprimanding him for asking about something that did not concern him. That was the most extreme form of discipline she employed. Maryam’s mother had been more indulgent and gracious. Once when she noticed he was watching her with astonishment, she had him stand on a chair in front of her. She stuck on his fingers what he at first thought was dough. She held her face out to him and said laughingly, 'Go to work and show me how clever you are'.
He had begun to imitate what she had been doing and established his cleverness to her satisfaction and his delight. He had not been content with the pleasure of doing it but had asked her, 'Why do you do this?'
She had laughed loudly and suggested, 'Why don't you wait ten more years to find out for yourself? But there’s no need to wait. Isn't smooth skin better than rough skin? That’s all there is to it'.
He went by her door softly so she would not know he was there. His message was too important for him to meet anyone except Maryam. She was in the last room, sitting on her bed, her legs crossed beneath her, eating melon seeds. There was a saucer in front of her filled with shells. When she saw him she exclaimed in astonishment, 'Kamal!' She was about to ask him why he had come at such an hour, but she did not, for fear that that would frighten or annoy him. 'You honor our house,' she continued. 'Come sit beside me'.
He shook hands with her. Then he unfastened the buttons of his high boots. He removed them and jumped onto the bed. He was wearing a striped shirt that went to his ankles and a blue skullcap decorated with red lines. Maryam laughed tenderly and put some seeds in his hand. She told him, 'Crack these open, sparrow, and move your pearl-like teeth… Do you remember the day you bit my wrist when I was tickling you… like this…?' She stretched her hand toward his armpit, but he moved in the opposite direction and crossed his arms over his chest to protect himself.
A nervous laugh escaped him, as though her fingers actually were tickling him. He yelled at her, 'Have mercy, Miss Maryam'.
She let him alone but expressed her amazement at his fear: 'Why does your body shrink from being tickled? Look: I don't mind it at all'. She began to tickle herself nonchalantly while giving him a scornful look.
He could not refrain from challenging her: 'Let me tickle you and then we'll see'.
She raised her hands over her head. His fingers attacked under her arms and proceeded to tickle her as gently and quickly as possible. He fixed his eyes on her beautiful black ones so he could catch the first sign of any weakening on her part. Finally he was forced to give up, sighing with despair and embarrassment.
She greeted his defeat with a gently sarcastic laugh and said, 'So you see, you weak little man… Don't claim you're a man anymore'. Then she continued as though she had suddenly remembered something important: 'What a calamity! You forgot to kiss me… Haven't I repeatedly told you that the greeting when we meet is a kiss?' She moved her face toward him. He put out his lips and kissed her cheek. Then he saw that scraps of melon seeds had escaped from the corner of his mouth and stuck to her cheek. He brushed them away with embarrassment. Maryam grasped his chin with her right hand and kissed his lips time and again. Then she asked him with amazement, 'How were you able to get away from them at this time of the day? Maybe your mother’s looking for you right now in every room of the house'.
'Oh…' He had been having such fun talking and playing that he had almost forgotten the message he had come to deliver. Her question reminded him of his mission. He looked at her with a different eye, an eye that wished to delve deep inside her to learn the secret power that was rocking his fine, sober brother. When he realized that he was the bearer of unhappy news, his inquisitive look disintegrated. He said despondently, 'Fahmy sent me'.
A new, serious look came into her eyes. She searched his face attentively for a clue to his mission. He felt that the atmosphere had changed, as though he had gone from one class to another. Then he heard her ask in a soft voice, 'Why?'
He answered her with a frankness that indicated he did not understand the seriousness of the news he brought, even though he felt it instinctively: 'He told me, 'Give her my greetings and tell her that Fahmy asked his father’s permission to become engaged to her. He did not consent for the engagement to be announced while Fahmy was still a student. He asked him to wait till he completed his studies.''
She was staring at his face with intense interest. When he fell silent, she lowered her eyes without uttering a word. Their tete-a-tete degenerated into a despondent silence which his young heart found hard to bear. He longed to scare it away no matter what. Kamal continued: 'He assures you that the refusal came in spite of him and that he'll hurry to finish his studies so that what he desires may come to pass'.
When he found that his words did not help free her from the clutches of silence, his wish to restore her former happiness and good humor increased. He asked her enticingly, 'Should I tell you what Fahmy and Mother said when they talked about you?'
She responded in a neutral tone, halfway between interest and disinterest, 'So what did they have to say?'
He felt good about this partial victory and recounted to her what he had overheard from beginning to end. It seemed to him that she sighed. Then she commented crossly, 'Your father’s a harsh, frightening man. Everyone knows he’s that way'.
Without thinking he agreed: 'Yes… Daddy’s like that'.
Fearfully and cautiously he raised his head to look at her, but he found her lost in thought. Remembering his brother’s instructions, he asked, 'What shall I tell him?'
She laughed through her nose and shook her shoulders. She started to speak but paused to think for a moment. Then she replied with a naughty gleam in her eyes: 'Tell him that she won't know what to do if a suitor asks to marry her during this long period of waiting'.
Kamal was more concerned about memorizing the new message than he was about understanding it. He sensed at once that his mission had ended. He put the remainder of the melon seeds in his shirt pocket. Then he shook hands with her, slipped to the floor, and departed.
22
Whenever Aisha looked at herself in the mirror, she was immensely pleased with what she saw. Who else from her illustrious family, indeed from the whole neighborhood, was adorned by golden tresses and blue eyes like hers? Yasin flirted openly with her, and Fahmy, when he spoke to her about one thing or another, did not neglect to give her admiring glances. Even little Kamal did not want to drink from the water jug unless her mouth had moistened the lip. Her mother spoiled her and said she was as beautiful as the moon, although she did not conceal her anxiety that Aisha was too thin and delicate. For this reason she had encouraged Umm Hanafi to concoct a remedy to fatten her up. Aisha herself was perhaps more conscious of her extraordinary beauty than any of the others. Her intense solicitude for every detail of her appearance made this clear.
Khadija did not let her sister’s excessive concern for her beauty pass without comment, rebuke, and criticism. It was not that Khadija would have been pleased if Aisha had neglected herself. She took after her mother more than any of the others when it came to cleanliness and neatness. But it annoyed her to observe her sister greet the day by combing her hair and fixing her attire before doing the household chores, as though Aisha could not bear for her beauty to be left untended for even one hour out of her whole life.
It was not simply interest in her own beauty that caused Aisha to want to fix herself up first thing in the morning. When the men went off to work, she wanted to be ready to repair to the parlor and open the shutters of the window overlooking Palace Walk just the least bit. Then she would stand searching the street, while she waited
