Radwan Hussainy stroked his beard and answered critically, 'What can we, with our shallow intelligence, expect to understand of His mighty wisdom? It is true that you are a good man, worthy and generous, and keep strictly to God's ordinances. However, don't forget that God put Job to the test and he was a prophet. Do not despair and do not be sad. Remain faithful and good will come of it…'
Alwan's emotional state only got worse and he asked angrily, 'Have you noticed how Kirsha still retains the strength and health of a mule?'
'You with your sickness are far better off than he is with his health.'
Fury overcame Alwan at this, and he shot Radwan a fiery glance, shouting, 'You can talk in your peace and contentment and sermonize in your pious godliness, but you haven't suffered as I have and have lost nothing like I've lost.'
Radwan remained looking down until the man finished his speech. Then he raised his head, a sweet smile playing on his lips, and looked at Alwan, deep and straight from his clear eyes. Immediately, Alwan's anger and emotional state subsided. It was as though he was remembering for the first time that he was talking to the most afflicted of God's worshippers. The merchant blinked his eyes and his pallid face flushed slightly. Then he said weakly, 'Please forgive me, my brother! I am tired and on edge.'
Radwan, a smile still on his lips, commented, 'Oh, you are not to be blamed; may God give you peace and strength. Remember God often, for it is by doing so that our hearts learn contentment. Never let despair overcome your faith. True happiness denies us, exactly as we deny our faith.'
Alwan gripped his chin hard and said, angry again, 'They envied me. They resented my fortune and my good health. They envied me, Radwan!'
'To be envious is worse than to be ill. It is distressing how many people envy their brothers' good luck and transient fortune. Do not despair and do not be sad, and make your peace with your most merciful and forgiving God.'
They talked for a long time and then Radwan Hussainy said goodbye and left. Alwan remained quiet for a while, but soon returned to his previous scowling ill temper. He was tired of sitting so long, and rose, walking slowly to the door of the office. He stood at the entrance, his arms folded behind his back. The sun was still high in the sky and the air was warm and fresh. At that time of the day the alley was nearly empty, except for Sheikh Darwish, who sat sunning himself in front of the cafe. Salim Alwan remained there a minute or two and, as he had always done in the old days, looked up toward the window. It was open and empty. He felt uncomfortable standing there and returned scowling to his chair.
23
'I won't return to the cafe, so no one will be suspicious…' That was what he had said when they had parted, and Hamida, on the morning following their meeting in Darasa Street, remembered his words. She felt full of life and happy at the thought of him. She wondered whether she ought to meet him today. Her heart immediately answered, 'Yes,' but she felt obstinately, 'No, he must first come back to the cafe.' And so she refrained from going out at her usual time. She crouched behind her window waiting to see what would happen.
The sun set and night spread its wings. Soon she saw the man coming up the alley, his eyes fixed on the gap in the shutters of her window. On his face she could see a slight smile of resignation as he sat in his usual chair. As she watched him she felt the delights of victory and revenge for the way he had punished her by appearing unexpectedly in Mousky. Their eyes met and stayed fixed on one another for a long time. She neither looked away nor moved. His smile broadened and she smiled too, although she was unaware that she did. What could he want? The question seemed idle to her, for she could see only one reason for his continuous pursuit of her. The same thing that Abbas wanted earlier and Salim Alwan too before fate struck him down. Why shouldn't this fine young man be after the same goal? Why else would he say, 'Aren't you on this earth to be taken? And I'm just the one to take you!' What could this possibly mean if not marriage? There seemed to be no obstacle in the way of her dreams, for her ungovernable vanity gave her a feeling of power and enormous self-confidence. So she remained looking out at him from behind the shutters, returning his intense looks without shyness or hesitation. His eyes spoke to her with depth and feeling, sharpening all her senses and igniting all her instincts. Perhaps it was this strange and deep feeling that she had experienced without even knowing it when their eyes met that first time and he smiled at her victoriously. She was drawn to him as she had always been drawn by a challenge to battle. The truth was that his eyes revealed a great deal of herself. She had always wandered aimlessly through life and her confusion persisted before Abbas' humble gaze and the great wealth of Salim Alwan. She felt, however, that this man had been searching for her, and this excitement and attraction drew her nearer to him. She felt drawn like the needle of a compass to the poles. She also knew that he was not just a penniless beggar who would make her endure want and poverty; his appearance and his bank notes proved that. Her eyes remained fixed on him, reflecting desire and delight. She did not move from her position until he left the cafe, bidding her goodbye with a faint smile. Her eyes followed him as he went down the alley and she murmured as though in farewell, 'Tomorrow.'
On the following afternoon she left the house, her heart filled with anticipation, desire for battle, and delight with life. She had scarcely left Sanadiqiya Street when she saw him standing some distance away at the junction of Ghouriya and New Street. A light gleamed in her eyes and she felt strange, obscure sensations stirring within her, that mixture of pleasure and a bestial desire to fight. She imagined he would follow her when she passed him until they were alone together in Darasa Street. So she went slowly on, feeling no anxiety or shyness, and approached him as though she had not noticed he was there. However, as she passed him something completely unexpected happened. He walked beside her and, with indescribable boldness, stretched out his arm and gripped her hand. Paying no attention to the people walking by or standing about, he said quietly, 'Good evening, my darling.'
She was taken unaware and tried vainly to release her hand but was afraid if she tried again she would attract too much attention and so she boiled with frustration. She was in a dilemma. If she were to release her anger, there would be a disgraceful scandal and the whole affair would come to an end. If she were to give way, she would hate him because he had forced himself upon her and defeated her. Fury filled her as she hissed, trembling with emotion, 'What do you think you are doing? Let go of my hand at once!'
Walking at her side as though they were two friends out for a stroll together, he replied quietly, 'Patience, patience… friends shouldn't fight.'
Seething with rage, she stuttered, 'But the people, the street…'
'Don't worry about the people of this street. They are all interested only in money. You wouldn't find a thing in their minds except bills. Come on, let's go over to a goldsmith's so that I can select something to match your beauty.'
Her rage increased at his lack of concern and she said threateningly, 'Are you trying to show that nothing bothers you?'
'I didn't intend to annoy you,' he replied quietly, still smiling. 'I was just waiting for you so that we could walk together. Why are you angry?'
Still irritated, she replied, 'I hate your accosting me like this, and I warn you that if I lose my temper…'
Her face showed she was serious and so he asked hopefully, 'Promise me we can walk along together?'
'I won't promise anything. Let go of my hand.'
He did so, but moved no further away from her and said, flattering her, 'Oh, what a stubborn self-willed person you are. Then take your hand, but we are not going to part company. That's true, isn't it?'
'What a conceited oaf you are!' she spat out in rage.
He accepted the insult in smiling silence, and they walked away, with Hamida making no attempt to move away from him, aware of how she had lain in wait for him so recently in the hopes of walking with him along this very street. However, now her thoughts centered on the fact that she had forced him to let go of her hand. Perhaps if he were to try again, she would not prevent him; after all, hadn't she left her house for the sole purpose of meeting him? Anyway, it annoyed her that he should show more daring and self-confidence than she did and so she walked by his side, unconcerned about what passersby might think. She could scarcely wait to see the envious astonishment his appearance would cause among the factory girls. The thought filled her with feelings of superiority and a desire for life and adventure.
The man spoke again, 'I would like to apologize for my rudeness, but really, what am I to do in the face of
