concerns me as much at it does you … the question of our grandson Ridwan.'
The two men exchanged a long look. Then Muhammad Iffat continued: 'In a few months the boy will be seven. I'm afraid his father w ill ask for custody, and Ridwan will grow up in Zanuba's home. This evil must be averted. I don't imagine you'd agree to it either. So convince Yasin to leave the boy with us, until God straightens things out.'
It was contrary to the nature of Ahmad Abd al-Jawad to agree voluntarily to allow his grandson to remain with the mother's family beyond the period established by law for her custody, but he also d id not wish to suggest that the boy become part of his own household, for fear of adding to Amina's burdens another one she could not be considered eager to assume, because of her age. So with sad resignation he answered, 'I admit it wouldn't be right for Ridwan to be reared in Zanuba's home.'
Sighing with relief, Muhammad Iffat said, 'His grandmother loves him with all her heart. Even if unavoidable circumstances in the future forced him to be transferred to his mother's home, he would be in good hands, for his mother's married to a man in his forties or older, deprived by God of the blessing of offspring.'
Ahmad Abd al-Jawad said hopefully, 'But I'd prefer him to stay with you.'
'Of course, of course. I was just speaking about remote possibilities, which I pray that God will never impose on us. Now all I have to say is to be gentle when you speak to Yasin so it'll be easier to convince him to leave Ridwan with me.'
Then al-Hamzawi's conciliatory voice said, 'Al-Sayyid Ahmad's. the wisest man I know. He realizes Yasin's a man who, like other men, is free to act as he pleases and to dispose of his possessions. Al-Sayyid Ahmad knows these things. He simply needs to advise his son. The rest is up to God.'
Ahmad Abd al-Jawad gave over the remainder of the day to sorrowful reflection. He told himself, 'In a word, Yasin's a loss as a son. There's nothing more miserable than having a son who's a disappointment. Unfortunately, the direction he's heading is only too clear. No particular insight's required to discern it. Yes, he'll go from bad to worse and need all the grace God grants him.'
Jamil al-Hamzawi asked him to postpone his talk with Yasin until the next day. He yielded to this request, more from despair than because he valued the advice.
He summoned Yasin to meet him the following afternoon. As was appropriate for an obedient son, Yasin hastened to comply with his father's request. The truth was that Yasin had not severed relations with his family. The old house was the only place he had not had the courage to visit, even though he felt homesick for it. Every time he met his father, Khadija, or Aisha he would ask them to convey his greetings to his stepmother. If he had not forgotten her anger with him or what he termed her obstinacy, he also refused to overlook the old days when she was the only mother he knew. He had not stopped visiting his sisters. Occasionally he met Kamal in Ahmad Abduh's coffeehouse. He would also invite his younger brother to his home, where Kamal encountered Maryam first and then Zanuba. Yasin visited his father at his store at least once a week. This call allowed him to observe another side of his father's personality, the one al-Sayyid Ahmad used to captivate people. A solid friendship and a deep affection flourished between the two men, encouraged both by the ties of blood and by Yasin's joy at discovering his father.
Even so, when Yasin examined his father's face that afternoon, its expression reminded him of the old look, which had so frequently terrified him. He did not ask what was bothering his father, for he was sure he would discover the secret sooner or later. No doubt he was encountering the tempest he had expected ever since acting so rashly.
Before he could speak, his father said, 'I'm sad to find myself so humiliated. Why should I have to learn my son's news from third parties?'
Yasin bowed his head but did not breathe a word. His father was outraged by this deceitful veneer of humility, shouting, 'Take off that mask. Don't play the hypocrite. Let me hear your voice. You know what I'm talking about.'
In a scarcely audible whisper Yasin said, 'I couldn't get up the courage to tell you.'
'This happens when someone tries to conceal an offense or a scandal.'
Yasin knew instinctively that he should not attempt any form of resistance. So he said with resignation, 'Yes….'
Aghast, al-Sayyid Ahmad asked, 'If that's really what you think, then why did you do it?'
Yasin resorted to silence once more. His father imagined this failure to reply indicated: 'I knew it was scandalous, but I gave in to love'. He was reminded of his own disgraceful situation with the same woman.
'How shameful!' al-Sayyid Ahmad told himself. 'You washed away your humiliation with an outburst of anger, but then you started pursuing her again…. And what a loss this ox is!'
'You embraced a scandal without any consideration of the consequences, which you let all the rest of us suffer.'
Yasin cried out ingenuously, 'All of you? God forbid.'
Furious again, al-Sayyid Ahmad shouted, 'Don't pretend to be stupid! Don't claim you're innocent. When you're trying to satisfy your lusts, you pay no attention to the damage you're doing to your father's reputation or that of your brother and sisters. You've forced a lute player on the family. She'll be one of us along with her children. I don't imagine I'm telling you anything new. But you ignore everything for the sake of lust. You've disgraced the family's honor. You yourself are collapsing stone by stone. In the end you'll find you're nothing but a ruin.'
Yasin lowered his eyes and was silent for so long that his guilt and submission were obvious.
'This scandal will only cost you a certain amount of theatrics, so far as I can see,' al-Sayyid Ahmad fumed to himself. 'That's all it means to you, but tomorrow I'll be blessed with a grandson who has Zanuba for a mother and Zubayda as his great-aunt… a unique relationship linking the well-known merchant al-Sayyid Ahmad to Zubayda the notorious singer. Perhaps we're atoning for sins we're not even conscious of.'
'I tremble when I think of your future. I told you that you're falling apart. Your collapse will become more and more evident. Tell me what you did with the store in al-Hamzawi?'
Yasin raised his melancholy eyes and hesitated momentarily. Then he said, 'I was in urgent need of money'. Looking down, he continued: 'Had the circumstances been different, I would have borrowed what I needed from you, sir, but it was an embarrassing situation….'
Al-Sayyid Ahmad replied furiously, 'What a hypocrite you are! Aren't you ashamed of yourself? I bet you didn't see anything odd or reprehensible in what you did. I know you and understand you. So don't try to deceive me. I just have one thing to say to you, even though I know in advance it's pointless: You're ruining yourself, and your fate will be grim.'
Yasin was silent once more and pretended to be distressed.
'The ox!' his father thought. 'She's an attractive devil, but what forced you to marry her? I imagined she asked me to marry her because of my age. But she trapped this bull, even though he's young'. He felt some relief and consolation at that. 'Her premeditated plan was to get married at any cost, but she preferred another man. And this fool fell for it.'
'Divorce her! Divorce her before she becomes a mother and we're disgraced for generations to come.'
After hesitating for some time, Yasin mumbled, 'It would be wrong for me to divorce her without any cause.'
'You son of a bitch!' he exclaimed to himself. 'You've presented me with an exquisite anecdote for tonight's party.'
'You'll divorce her sooner or later. Do it before she bears a child, who'll be a problem for you and the rest of us.'
Yasin sighed audibly, allowing that to serve as his response. His father began to examine him rather anxiously. Fahmy was dead. Kamal was an idiot or insane. Yasin was hopeless. 'The sad thing is that he's the dearest to me of them all. Leave the matter to God. O Lord! What would have happened if my foot had slipped and I'd married her?'
'How much did you get for the shop?'
'Two hundred pounds.'
'It was worth three hundred. It was an excellent location, ignoramus. Who bought it?'
'Ali Tulun… he sells sundries.'
'Great! Congratulations! Was the whole sum squandered on the new furnishings?'
