tranquil life. Even his critical attitude toward Khalil Shawkat was reduced to a scornful feeling free of any rancor.
When the guests were invited to the dinner tables, Fahmy and Yasin were separated for the first time. Khalil Shawkat conducted the latter to a special table where wine was in ample supply. Conscious of the possible consequences, Yasin was cautious at first. He announced that two glasses were enough for him. He resisted with courage (or was it cowardice?) the freely flowing wine, until he reached the first stage of intoxication. Then his memories of the pleasures of drunkenness were stirred, and his willpower weakened. He wanted to get more intoxicated without exceeding the limits of safety. He had a third glass and fled from the table, although he took the precaution of hiding a half-filled bottle in a secret place so he could retrieve it if there was a pressing need. He kept one eye on paradise, while the other was peering down at hell. The young men returned to their seats with vibrant new spirits that imparted to the atmosphere a delight freed from restrictions.
In the women’s quarters, intoxication had gained firm control over the performer Jalila. She started looking around at the faces of the women in the audience, asking, 'Which of you is the wife of al-Sayyid Ahmad Abd al- Jawad?'
Her question attracted their attention and aroused everyone’s interest. Amina was too shy to utter a word. She began to stare at the entertainer’s face with anxiety and disapproval. When the performer repeated the question, Widow Shawkat pointed to Amina and volunteered, 'There she is. Why do you ask?'
The performer examined her with piercing eyes. Then she let out a resounding laugh and said with satisfaction, 'A beauty, by the truth of God’s house. Al-Sayyid Ahmad’s taste is unbeatable'.
Amina was so embarrassed she was like a tongue-tied virgin. Embarrassment was not her only emotion. She asked herself with anxiety and alarm what the implications were of the entertainer’s question about al-Sayyid Ahmad Abd al-Jawad’s wife and of her praise for his taste. She had spoken in a tone that only a person who knew him well would adopt. Aisha and Khadija felt the same way. Khadija glanced back and forth from some of her friends to the performer, as though asking them what they thought of this tipsy woman. Jalila paid no attention to the panic her words had provoked. She turned her eyes to the bride and examined her as she had the mother previously. Then she wriggled her eyebrows and declared admiringly, 'As beautiful as the moon, by the Messenger of God! You're really your father’s daughter. Anyone seeing those eyes would immediately remember his'. She laughed boisterously before continuing: 'I see you are all wondering how this woman knows al-Sayyid Ahmad… I knew him before his wife herself did. He was a neighbor and childhood playmate. Our fathers were friends. Do you think a performer doesn't have a father? My father was head of a Qur'anic primary school and a blessed man. What do you think about that, you beauty?'
She directed this question to Amina, whose fear, natural indulgence, and good humor prompted her to answer, as she struggled with her embarrassed confusion, 'May God have mercy on him. We're all children of Eve and Adam'.
Narrowing her eyes, Jalila began to rock her head left and right. Her memories and expressions of piety seemed to have made a great impact on her, or perhaps her drunken head enjoyed this routine. She began speaking again: 'He was a man with a jealous sense of honor. But I grew up with a natural tendency to be playful, as though I had been suckled on coquetry in the cradle. When I laughed on the top floor of our house, the hearts of men in the street would be troubled. The moment he heard my voice, he would rain blows upon me and call me the worst names. But what point was there in trying to discipline a girl who was so gifted in the arts of love, music, and flirtation? His attempts were in vain. My father went to paradise and its delights while I was fated to adopt the epithets he hurled at me as my banner in life. That’s the way the world is… May our Lord nourish you with the good things in life and spare you the evil… May God never deprive us of men, whether through marriage or affairs'.
Laughter rang out from all sides of the room. It drowned the shocked exclamations of some women here and there. The reaction was perhaps primarily caused by the apparent contradiction between the final, licentious prayer and the expressions preceding it which at least outwardly seemed serious and regretful. The woman had cloaked her expressions with a serious and dignified veil, before finally revealing her joke. Even Amina, uneasy though she was, could not keep from smiling, although she bowed her head so no one would see. At a party like this, women were able to entertain the drunken jokes of the performers and respond to their humor, although the limits of decency were occasionally surpassed. They seemed to enjoy a break from their normal primness.
The intoxicated entertainer continued her discourse: 'My father, may God make paradise his final abode, had good intentions. For example, he brought me a fine man like himself one day and wanted to marry him to me'. She roared with laughter. 'What kind of marriage would that have been, my dear? What was left for a husband after what had already happened? I told myself, 'Jalila, you'll be disgraced. You've fallen into a tar pit.''
She paused for a time to whet their appetite or to enjoy the attention focused on her, which was even greater than when she was singing. Then she went on: 'But God was gracious. I was saved a few days before the anticipated disaster. I ran off with the late Hassuna al-Baghl, a drug dealer. He had a brother who played the lute for the entertainer Nayzak. He taught me how to play it. Since he liked my voice he also taught me how to sing. He coached me until I got into Nayzak’s troupe. When she died, I took her place. I've been singing for ages and have had a hundred lovers, plus…'
She frowned as she tried to remember how many more than a hundred there had been. Then she turned to ask her tambourine player, 'How many, Fino?'
The musician quickly responded, 'Plus five-like the five fingers of the Prophet’s granddaughter Fatima held up to ward off the evil of infidels'.
Laughter resounded once more. Some of the women most fascinated by the performer’s account attempted to silence the laughing ladies so she would resume speaking, but she rose suddenly and headed for the door. She paid no attention to the women asking her where she was going. Although they received no answer, no one pressed her, because she was notorious for her outbursts, which she made no effort whatsoever to resist.
Jalila descended the staircase to the door of the women’s quarters and stepped into the courtyard. When her sudden appearance attracted the attention of nearby eyes, she paused to allow everyone to see her. She wanted to enjoy the interest that the sight of her would arouse in them and use it to challenge Sabir, who had worked his audience to a peak of enthusiasm. Her wish was granted. The contagion of turning to look at her spread as quickly as a yawn from one man to the next. Her name was repeated by every tongue. Although Sabir was carried away by his own singing, he too noticed the sudden rift between him and his audience. He turned to see what was attracting everyone’s attention and his eyes came to rest on the chanteuse, who was gazing at him from afar with her head tilted back in a mixture of intoxication and pride. Sabir was compelled to stop singing and motioned to his musicians to cease playing. He raised his hands to his head to greet her. He knew about her outbursts and, unlike most people, also knew how kindhearted she was. Taking into consideration the dangers of antagonizing her, he displayed unreserved affection for her. His ruse succeeded, and the woman’s face shone with delight. She called out to him, 'Continue singing, Sabir. That’s what I've come to hear'.
The guests applauded and jubilantly returned to Sabir. Then Ibrahim Shawkat, the bridegroom’s elder brother, approached her and asked politely what she needed. His question reminded her of the real reason she had come. She asked him in a voice that carried to many of the men present and most importantly to Yasin and Fahmy, 'Why don't I see al-Sayyid Ahmad Abd al-Jawad? Where has the man hidden himself?'
Ibrahim Shawkat took her arm and smilingly escorted her to the reception room. Meanwhile Fahmy and Yasin exchanged an astonished and incredulous glance. Their eyes followed Ibrahim and the entertainer until they disappeared behind the door.
Al-Sayyid Ahmad was no less astonished than his sons to see her strutting toward him. He stared questioningly at her in alarm, while his companions exchanged smiling, knowing looks.
Jalila looked everyone over quickly and said, 'A fine evening to you, gentlemen'.
She focused her eyes on al-Sayyid Ahmad. She could not keep herself from laughing heartily. Then she asked sarcastically, 'Has my visit frightened you, al-Sayyid Ahmad?'
He gestured to caution her about the people outside. He replied seriously, 'Restrain yourself, Jalila. What has motivated you to visit me here under the eyes of all the people?'
Although her sarcastic smile never left her, she replied apologetically, 'I would have hated to miss congratulating you on the marriage of your daughter'.
Al-Sayyid Ahmad responded uneasily, 'Thank you, lady, but didn't you think about the suspicions your visit might arouse in the minds of those who saw you?'
Jalila clapped her hands together and said almost as a reprimand, 'Is this the best welcome you have for
