'May God have mercy on all those who have departed this life.'
Silence reigned until the impact of the reference to the dead had dissipated. As though remembering something important, the man said, 'Zaynab's gotten engaged!'
Amina's eyes grew wide. She raised her head and asked, 'Really?'
'Yes, Muhammad Iffat told me tonight.'
'Who is it?'
'A civil servant named Muhammad Hasan, who ishead of the records office in the Ministry of Education.'
She commented despondently, 'It sounds as though he's advanced in years.'
'Not at all,' he objected. 'He's in his thirties, thirty-five, thirty-six, forty at the most'. He continued sarcastically, 'She tried her luck with young men and failed. I mean young men with no backbone. Let her try her luck with mature men.'
Amina said sorrowfully, 'Yasin would have been better for her, if only because of their son.'
Al-Sayyid Ahmad shared her opinion, which he had defended for a long time with Muhammad Iffat. In order to conceal his failure, he did not mention that he agreed and said with annoyance, 'Her father no longer trusts Yasin, and in truth he's not trustworthy. That's why I didn't insist on it. I was unwilling to exploit our friendship and make her father accept something that would end badly.'
Amina mumbled sympathetically, 'A youthful mistake can be forgiven.'
Her husband felt he could acknowledge some portion of his unsuccessful effort and remarked, 'I didn't neglect Yasin's rights but met with no encouragement. Muhammad Iffat told me, 'My first reason for refusing is my concern that our friendship might be exposed to discord.' He also said, would not be able to refuse a request from you, but our friendship is dearer to me than your request.' So I stopped talking about it.'
Muhammad Iffat had actually said that, but only to fend off al-Sayyid Ahmad's insistent urging. Because of his friend's high standing with him and in society, al-Sayyid Ahmad had been very keen to restore his bond with Muhammad Iffat, which was severed when their children were divorced. Although he could not hope to find a better wife for Yasin than Zaynab, he was forced to accept the calamity of divorce and remarriage, especially after his frien «i had told him bluntly at least part of what he knew of Yasin's private life. Muhammad Iffat had even remarked, 'Don't tell me we're the same as Yasin. We differ in several respects, and the fact is that I have higher standards for my daughter Zaynab's husband than for her mother's.'
Arnim inquired, 'Does Yasin know what's happened?'
'He'll learn tomorrow or the next day. Do you think he'll mind? He's the last person to be concerned about honor in marriage.'
Arnim shook her head sadly and asked, 'What about Ridwan?'
Al-Sayyid Ahmad replied with a frown, 'He'll stay with his grandfather or go with his mother, if he can't bear to be separated from hei. May God embarrass those who have caused the boy this embarrassment.'
'My Lord, the poor child — his mother one place and his father another…. Can Zaynab really bear to be parted from him?'
Her busband replied with apparent disdain, 'Necessity has its own laws'. Then he asked, 'When will he be old enough to come to his father? Do you remember?'
Arnim thought for a bit and said, 'He's a little younger than Na'irna, Aisha's daughter, and a little older than Khadija's son Abd al-Mun'im. So he must be five, and his father can claim custody in two years. Isn't that right, sir?'
Yawning, al-Sayyid Ahmad replied, 'We'll see when the time comes'. Then he went on: 'He's been married before. I mean her new husband.'
'Doeshe have children?'
'No. His first wife didn't bear any.'
'Perhaps that helped endear him to Mr. Muhammad Iffat.'
The man retorted angrily, 'Don't forget his rank!'
Amina protested, 'If it was merely a question of social status no one could match your son, if only for your sake.'
He felt indignant and secretly cursed Muhammad Iffat, despite his love i or the man. But then he reiterated the point that consoled him: 'Don't forget that had it not been for his desire to safeguard our friendship, he would not have hesitated to honor my request.'
Amina echoed this sentiment: 'Of course, naturally, sir. It's a lifelong friendship and not something to be trifled with or taken lightly.'
He began yawning once more and muttered, 'Take the lamp.'
She rose to carry out his order. He closed his eyes for a moment before rising in a single bound, as though to overcome his inertia. He headed for his bed to stretch out. Now he felt fine. How good it was to lie down when exhausted. Yes, his head pulsed and throbbed, but he almost always had some kind of headache. Let him praise God in any case. Being totally at ease was a thing of the past.
'When we are by ourselves,' he reflected, 'we become conscious of something missing that will never return. It looms up out of the past in a pale memory, like the faint light from the little window in the door.'
In any case he should praise God. He would enjoy his life, which others envied. The best thing was to reach a decision about whether to accept his friends' invitation or not. Or should he leave tomorrow's problem till the morrow?
Yasin was a problem not only for tomorrow but for yesterday and today…. He was no longer a child, since he was twenty-eight. It would not be difficult to find him another wife, but 'God does not change people until they change themselves' (Qur'an, 13:11). When would God's guidance shine forth and encompass the earth so that its light dazzled the eye? Then he would cry out from the depths of his soul: 'Praise the Lord'. But what had Muhammad Iffat said? That Yasin prowled and patrolled the Ezbekiya entertainment district from top to bottom…. Ezbekiya had been another kind of place when he had prowled and patrolled it himself. He was shaken by longing at times to return to its watering holes and revive some memories. Praise God that he had learned Yasin's secret before setting out. Otherwise Satan would have laughed at his embarrassment from the bottom of his mocking heart.
'Clear the way for the next generation,' he told himself. 'They've grown up. The Australians kept you away from there once. Now it's this Australian mule of a son who does.'
73
The early-morning silence was broken by the repeated thumps of dough being kneaded in the oven room and by the crowing of a rooster. Umm Hanafi's corpulent body was bent over the bread bowl. Her face looked full by the light of a lamp atop the oven. Age had not affected her hair or her plumpness, but her appearance had take a on an air of gloom and her features seemed coarser. On a kitchen chair to her right sat Amina, who was spreading bran on the breadboards. They continued the work in silence until Umm Hanafi finished kneading the dough, took her hand from the bowl, and wiped her sweaty brow with her forearm. Then the servant waved her fist, which was covered with dough and looked like a white boxing glove, as she observed, 'It'll be a hard day for you, ma'am, but a delightful one. May God grant us many happy days.'
Without raising her head from her work, Amina murmured, 'We've got to make sure the food's delicious.'
Umm Hanafi smiled, gestured toward her mistress with her chin, and said, 'Your skill will take care of that'. She planted her hands in the bowl once more to resume punching the dough.
'I wish we had contented ourselves with distributing stew to the needy around al-Husayn Mosque.'
Umm Hanafi gently scolded her mistress: 'No one present will be an outsider.'
Amina muttered somewhat nervously, 'But there'll be a banquet and a lot of commotion. Fuad, Jamil al- Hamzawi's son, has also earn ed the baccalaureate — without anyone seeing or hearing anything about it.'
But Umm Hanafi kept up her scolding: 'It's just an opportunity for us to get together with our loved ones.'
How could joy be free from reproach or forebodings? In former times she had reckoned up the years,
