a carriage. As though he could not keep his joy a secret and wished to announce it to everyone or attract attention to himself sitting in the carriage between his mother and sister, he suddenly stood up and cried out, 'Amm Hasanayn, look!' when the vehicle approached the barbershop. The man looked at him. Discovering that Kamal was not alone, he quickly lowered his eyes and smiled. The mother was terribly embarrassed and upset. She grabbed Kamal by the edge of his jacket, so he would not repeat his performance as they passed the other shops, and scolded him for the crazy thing he had done.
The house on Sugar Street appeared to be ancient, a relic. It looked quite different without its decorative wedding lights. The very age and mass of the building and the expensive furnishings all suggested power and prestige. The Shawkats were an old family, although not much was left of their former glory, except their name, especially since the family fortune had been divided up over the years by inheritance. The fact that they shunned modern education had not helped either. The bride had taken up residence on the second floor. Because of her age, Widow Shawkat had difficulty climbing the stairs and moved down to the first floor with her elder son, Ibrahim. The third floor remained vacant. They did not try to use it and refused to rent it out.
When the family entered Aisha’s apartment, Kamal wanted to rush off on his own, the way he would at home, in order to scout around until he found his sister all by himself. He looked forward to the pleasure of the surprise and pictured it to himself as he climbed up the stairs, but his mother would not let him escape from her grip, no matter how hard he tried. Before he knew what was happening, the servant had led them to the parlor and left them there alone. Kamal felt they were being treated like strangers or company. He was dejected and depressed and began to repeat with alarm, 'Where’s Aisha?… Why are we waiting here?'
The only answer he received was 'hush' and a warning that he would not be allowed to visit again if he raised his voice. His pain quickly left him once Aisha came running in, her face beaming with a smile of such brilliance it outshone her magnificent clothes and dazzling finery. Kamal ran to her and put his arms around her neck. He clung to her all the time she was exchanging greetings with her mother and sister.
Aisha appeared to be ecstatic about herself, her new life, and her family’s visit. She told them about the visits from her father, Yasin, and Fahmy and how her desire to see the rest of the family had conquered her fear of her father. She had been daring enough to ask permission for them to call on her.
She said, 'I don't know how my tongue obeyed me and let me speak. Perhaps it was his new image that encouraged me. He seemed to be charming, mild-mannered, and smiling. Yes, by God, he was smiling. Even so, I hesitated for a long time. I was afraid he would suddenly revert back to form and scold me. Finally I put my faith in God and spoke'.
Her mother asked her how he had replied. Aisha answered, 'He said, in as few words as possible, 'God willing.' Then he continued quickly in a serious tone that sounded like a warning: 'But don't think this is a game. There’s a limit to everything.' My heart pounded and I proceeded to invoke blessings on him for a long time to try to humor and placate him'.
Then she skipped back a little to describe how she had felt when she was told, 'The head of your family is in the parlor'.
She said, 'I raced to the bathroom and washed my face to get off every trace of powder. Mr. Khalil asked me why I was doing that, but I told him, 'Believe me, I can't even meet him in this summer dress, because my arms show.' I didn't go till I wrapped myself in my cashmere shawl'.
Then she said, 'When Mother…' She laughed. 'I mean my new mother. When she heard about it, because Mr. Khalil told her what happened, she said, 'I know al-Sayyid Ahmad extremely well. He’s like that and worse.' Then she turned to me and said, 'Shushu, you should realize that you're no longer part of the Abd al-Jawad family. Now you're one of the Shawkats. So pay no attention to anyone else.''
Aisha’s splendid appearance and her conversation awakened their love and admiration. Kamal gazed at her as he had the night of the wedding and asked contentiously, 'Why didn't you look like this when you were at our house?'
She laughed and immediately answered him, 'Back then, I wasn't a Shawkat'.
Even Khadija looked at her affectionately. The girl’s marriage had eliminated all the reasons for the name- calling that used to break out between them when they were cooped up together. Moreover, only a small trace was left of the resentment Khadija had felt when permission was granted for the younger sister to marry first, since she blamed her misfortune on luck, not her sister. Her heart held nothing but love and longing for her. She missed her frequently, particularly when she needed a companion to confide in.
Then Aisha talked about her new home with the enclosed balcony overlooking Mutawalli Gate, the minarets that shot up into the sky nearby, and the steady flow of traffic. Everything around her reminded her of the old house and the streets and buildings surrounding it. There was no difference except for the names and some secondary features. 'And, come to think of it, you don't have anything comparable to the huge gate where you live'.
Then, with a trace of disappointment, she admitted, 'Although Mr. Khalil told me the procession of pilgrims setting off for Mecca does not pass by our balcony…'
She continued: 'Directly under the balcony there’s a spot where three men sit all day long until night comes: a crippled beggar, a vendor of red leather shoes, and a fortune-teller who makes his predictions by reading patterns in sand. They are my new neighbors. The geomancer is the most successful. Don't ask me about the droves of women and men who squat in front of him to find out what their fortune will be… How I wish my balcony were a little lower so I could hear what he tells them. The most entertaining sight of all is the Suares omnibus coming from al-Darb al-Ahmar when it meets a wagon of stones on its way from al-Ghuriya. The entrance of the gate is too narrow for both of them, and each of the drivers gets it into his head to challenge the other and force him to retreat and make way. At first the language is relatively polite, but then it becomes sharp and rude. Their throats bellow out curses and insults. Meanwhile the donkey carts and the handcarts arrive on the scene till the road is choked with them and no one has any idea how to get things back to normal. I stand there at the peephole trying not to laugh as I watch the faces and the sights'.
The courtyard of Aisha’s new home was quite similar to theirs, with an oven room and a pantry. Her mother- in-law ruled the courtyard with the help of the maid Suwaydan. 'I don't have any work to do. If I even mention the kitchen, a tray of food is brought to me'.
At that, Khadija could not keep from laughing. She commented, 'You've finally got what you always wanted'.
Kamal did not find much of interest in this discussion, but its general tone left him with the impression that Aisha was settling here permanently. He was alarmed and asked her, 'Aren't you coming back to us?'
The room was filled by a voice answering, 'She won't return to you, Mr. Kamal'. It was Khalil Shawkat, who entered the room laughing. He strutted in, his medium-sized body arrayed in a white silk house shirt. He had a full, oval face with white skin. His eyes bulged out slightly, and his lips were full. His large head was topped by a narrow brow and thick black hair parted at the crown. The color and styling of his hair resembled that of al-Sayyid Ahmad. There was a good-humored, languid look in his eyes, possibly the result of his life of rest, relaxation, and fun. He bent over his mother-in-law’s hand to kiss it, but she quickly withdrew it in embarrassment and discomfort, stammering her thanks. He greeted Khadija and Kamal and sat down-as Kamal put it later-as though he were one of them. The boy seized the opportunity presented by the bridegroom’s conversation with the others to scrutinize his face for a long time. It was a stranger’s face that had suddenly appeared in their lives, where it occupied a prominent position that entitled the man to be one of their closest relatives-in fact, Aisha’s husband. Whenever Kamal thought of this new relationship, he remembered the loss of Aisha, just as surely as the thought of white brings to mind the color black. He looked at Khalil’s face for a long time and repeated to himself Khalil’s confident words: 'She won't return to you, Mr. Kamal'. Kamal disapproved of Khalil. He found him repulsive and resented him. These sentiments had almost gained control of Kamal when the man rose suddenly, returning shortly with a silver tray with different kinds of sweets. He gave Kamal a fine selection of the very best varieties. Khalil smiled pleasantly at Kamal, even though two of his teeth overlapped each other.
Then Widow Shawkat appeared, leaning on the arm of a man they assumed to be Khalil’s older brother, since he looked so much like him. Their assumption was confirmed when the widow introduced him: 'My son Ibrahim… don't you know him yet?' She noticed how upset Amina and Khadija were when greeting him and said with a smile, 'We've been like a single family for a long time, but some of us are only now seeing each other for the first time… never mind!'
Amina understood that the woman was encouraging her and trying to make it easy for her. She smiled but felt anxious. She wondered whether her husband would consent to have her meet this man when she was not
