Kamal looked down rather sadly, stirred by old memories of a debate about the relative merits of the Law School and the Teachers College. He still nourished many of his former hopes, but life kept dealing him cruel blows every day. A government attorney, for example, would need no introduction, but the author of articles in al-Fikr magazine might be in even greater need of one than his obscure articles. Ahmad Ibrahim Shawkat left him no time for anxious musings. Looking at him with small protruding eyes, the boy said, 'I'll let Uncle Kamal answer for me.'
Ibrahim Shawkat smiled to hide his embarrassment, and with little enthusiasm Kamal said, 'Study what you feel is most appropriate for your talents.'
Ahmad turned his slender head to look victoriously from his brother to his father, but Kamal added, 'Still you ought to realize that Law School opens up a wider range of good career opportunities for you than Arts. If you choose the Arts Faculty, your future will lie in teaching, which is a difficult profession with little prestige.'
'I'm planning a career in journalism.'
'Journalism!' shouted Ibrahim Shawkat. 'He doesn't know what he's saying.'
Ahmad complained to Kamal, 'In our family, they see no distinction between guiding thought and guiding a cart.'
Smiling, Ridwan observed, 'The great intellectual leaders in our country have been Law School graduates.'
Ahmad replied proudly, 'I'm thinking of quite a different type of intellectual leadership.'
Scowling, Abd al-Muni'm Shawkat said, 'Unfortunately I know what you have in mind. It's frightening and destructive.'
Looking at the others as if to ask for their support, Ibrahim Shawkat told Ahmad, 'Look before you leap. You're only in the fourth year. Your inheritance won't be more than a hundred pounds a year. Some of my friends complain bitterly that their universityeducated children are unfit for any kind of work or else employed as clerks at minuscule salaries. Once you've thought about all this carefully you're free to choose for yourself.'
Yasin intervened to suggest, 'Let'shear Khadija's opinion. She was Ahmad's first instructor. Who is better qualified to select between the selfish instruction in one's own rights provided by Law and the altruistic and humane influence of Arts?'
They all smiled, including Amina, who was busy with her coffeepot. Even Aisha smiled. Encouraged by her sister's good humor, Khadija retorted, 'Let me tell you a cute story. Late yesterday afternoon you know it gets dark early in winter I was returning to Sugar Street from al-Darb al-Ahmar when I sensed that a man was following me. Then under the vault of the old city gate he passed me and asked, 'Where are you going, beautiful?' I turned and replied, Tm on my way home, Mr. Yasin.''
The sitting room exploded with laughter. Zanuba directed a telling look at Yasin, one that blended criticism with despair. Motioning for them to be still, he asked, 'You don't think I'm that blind, do you?'
Ibrahim Shawkat cautioned, 'Watch your tongue!'
Although only eight, Karima grasped her father's hand and laughed as if she had understood the point of her aunt's story.
Zanuba's commentary on the situation was: 'It's the worst things that make a person laugh.'
Giving Khadija a furious look, Yasin said, 'You've gotten me into hot water, girl….'
Khadija replied, 'If anyone present is in need of the humane influences of Arts, it's you, not my crazy son Ahmad.'
Zanuba agreed, but Ridwan defended his father, claiming he had been falsely accused. Ahmad kept his eyes fixed on Kamal, as though resting his hopes on his uncle.
Abd al-Muni'm glanced stealthily at Nai'ma, who looked like a white rose leaning against her mother. Her pale delicate face blushed whenever she sensed his small eyes looking at her.
Finally Ibrahim Shawkat spoke, changing the course of the conversation: 'Ahmad, think how Law School has allowed al-Hamzawi's son to become an important government attorney'. Kamal felt that this comment contained criticism directed against him.
Breaking her silence for the first time, Aisha said, 'He would like to get engaged to Na'ima.'
After the pause that greeted this news, Amina added, 'His father mentioned it to her grandfather yesterday.'
Yasin asked seriously, 'Has Father agreed?'
'It's still early for such questions.'
Glancing at Aisha, Ibrahim Shawkat inquired cautiously, 'What does Mrs. Aisha think of this?'
Without looking at anyone, Aisha answered, 'I don't know.'
Studying her sister closely, Khadija remarked, 'But it's all up to you.'
Kamal wanted to put in a good word for his friend and said, 'Fuad's really an excellent fellow.'
Ibrahim Shawkat asked circumspectly, 'Aren't his folks rather common?'
In his forceful voice, Abd al-Muni'm Shawkat replied, 'Yes. One of his maternal uncles is a donkey driver and another's a baker. He has a paternal uncle who is an attorney's secretary'. Then he added as a reluctant concession, 'But none of this detracts from the man's worth. A person should be judged for what he is, not for his family.'
Kamal realized that his nephew wanted to assert two truths no matter how contradictory: first the baseness of Fuad's origins and second the fact that a humble background does not diminish a person's value. He understood that Abd al-Muni'm was both attacking Fuad and repenting for this unfair attack, because of his strong religious convictions. Surprisingly, the assertion of these rival claims relieved Kamal, sparing him the embarrassment of expressing them himself. Like his nephew, he did not believe in the class system. Yet he was as inclined as Abd al-Muni'm to criticize Fuad and to belittle his friend's position, which he knew was far grander than his own.
Amina was clearly uncomfortable with this attack. She said, 'His father's a fine man. He has served us honestly and sincerely his whole life.'
Khadija found the courage to reply, 'But if this marriage takes place, Na'ima may find herself mixing with people who are beneath her. Family origin is everything.'
Her opinion was championed by the last person anyone would have expected when Zanuba said, 'You're right! Family origin is everything.'
Yasin was upset. He looked swiftly at Khadija, wondering how she would react to his wife's endorsement. What would she think of it? Would it remind her of the troupe and its female entertainers? He cursed Zanuba secretly for her empty braggadocio. Feeling obliged to say something to make up for his wife's remark, he observed, 'Remember, you're talking about a government attorney….'
Emboldened by Aisha's silence, Khadija said, 'It's my father who made him one. Our wealth has made him what he is.'
With sarcasm sparkling in protruding eyes that were reminiscent of his late Uncle Khalil's, Ahmad Shawkat retorted, 'We're more indebted to his father than he is to us.'
Pointing a finger at him, Khadija said critically, 'You're always subjecting us to these incomprehensible remarks.'
Sounding as if he hoped to terminate this discussion, Yasin commented, 'Don't wear yourselves out. Papa will have the final say.'
Amina distributed the cups of coffee, and the eyes of the young men gravitated to Na'ima, who sat beside her mother. Ridwan told himself, 'She's a sweet and lovely girl. I wish it were possible for us to be friends and companions. Ifwe could walk together in the street, people would have trouble saying which of us was better- looking.'
Ahmad thought, 'She's very beautiful but seems glued to her mother and has had little education.'
Abd al-Muni'm reflected silently, 'Pretty, a homemaker, and intensely religious her only defect is her frailty. But even that's attractive. She's too good for Fuad'. Then, breaking out of his internal monologue, he said, 'Na'ima, tell us what you think.'
The pale face blushed, frowned, and then smiled. Thrust into this awkward situation, the girl pitted a smile against her frown to free herself of both. Then she said shyly, 'I don't have an opinion about this. Leave me alone!'
Ahmad remarked sarcastically, 'False bashfulness….'
Aisha interrupted him, 'False?'
