Zubayda replied immediately, "Eat and drink in good health. A man should be his own physician, letting our Lord have the last word."

During the time he had been forced to stay in bed he had followed his doctor's orders. When he had been able to get around again, he had forgotten this medical advice completely.

Jalila spoke up again: "I don't believe in doctors, but I'll admit they have an excuse for what they say and do. They make their living from illnesses just as we performers make our living from joyous occasions like weddings. They couldn't get by without their sack, pump, orders, and prohibitions any more than we could survive without the tambourine, lute, and songs."

With enthusiastic relief, al-Sayyid Ahmad said, "You're right. Illness and health, like life and death, arise solely from G.o.d's command. Anyone who trusts in G.o.d will have no cause for sorrow."

Laughing, Ibrahim al-Far said, "Feast your eyes on this man, folks. He drinks with his mouth, l.u.s.ts with his eye, and preaches with his tongue."

Between guffaws, Ahmad Abd al-Jawad retorted, "There's nothing wrong with that, so long as I do my preaching in a brothel."

Examining Ahmad Abd al-Jawad and shaking hishead with wonder, Muhammad Iffat commented, "I wish Kamal were here to profit from your sermon along with us."

Ali Abd al-Rahim asked, "By the way, ishe still of the opinion that man's descended from an ape?"

Striking her hand against her breast, Jalila exclaimed, "How dreadful!"

"An ape?" Zubayda asked with astonishment. Then, as though reconsidering, she said, "Perhapshe was referring to his father, not a forefather."

Al-Sayyid Ahmad cautioned her, "He also showed that women are descended from a lioness."

Bursting into laughter, she replied, "I'd certainly like to see the child of a monkey and a lioness."

Ibrahim al-Far commented, "When Kamal grows up and leaves his family circle he'll observe that normal people are descended from Adam and Eve."

Ahmad Abd al-Jawad shot back, "Or I'll bring him here one day. That will convince him man's descended from dogs."

Ali A. bd al-Rahim went back to the table to fill their gla.s.ses again and asked Zubayda, "Since you know al-Sayyid Ahmad more intimately than any of us, can you say which animal family you'd place him in?"

She reflected a little as she watched Ali Abd al-Rahim's hands pour the whiskey. Then, with a smile, she replied, "The a.s.s!"

Jalila asked, "Is this a compliment or an insult?"

Ahmad Abd al-Jawad answered, "Only her belly knows for sure."

They drank some more in the best of humors. Zubayda picked up the lute and sang, "Let down the curtain around us."

The body of Ahmad Abd al-Jawad began to sway to the music in an overwhelming intoxication. He raised his gla.s.s, which was empty except for a film of whiskey at the bottom, and looked through that at the woman, as though wishing to observe her with a golden spygla.s.s. Whatever private resentment there might have been between them had vanished. It was clear that the bond between Ahmad and Zubayda had been reestablished. They all sang the chorus with Zubayda, Ahmad's voice growing loud with delight and ecstasy. The song concluded to their jubilant applause.

Muhammad Iffat immediately asked Jalila, "Speaking of the song 'His pa.s.sion's revealed by his eyes,' what do you think of Umm Elalthoum?"

Jalila answered, "Her voice, with G.o.d as my witness, is beautiful, but all too often she's as shrill as a child."

"Some people say she'll be the next Munira al-Mahdiya. Others say her voice is even more marvelous than Munira's."

Jalila cried out, "Nonsense! How does this shrillness compare with Munira's magnificently husky voice?"

Zubayda remarked disdainfully, "There's something about her voice that reminds one of a Qur'an reciter - as though she was an entertainer in a shaykh's turban."

Ahmad Abd al-Jawad said, "I don't care for her, but a lot of people are wild about her. The truth is that the vocal era ended with the death of Abduh al-Hamuli."

Muhammad Iffat teased his friend, "You're a reactionary. You always try to cling to the past". Winking, he continued: "Don't you insist on ruling your home by fiat and force, even in the age of democracy and parliament?"

Al-Sayyid Ahmad replied scornfully, "Democracy's for the people, not the family."

Ali Abd al-Rahim said seriously, "Do you think you can rule the young people of today in the old-fashioned way? These youngsters are used to demonstrating in the streets and confronting the soldiers."

Ibrahim al-Far said, "I don't know what you're talking about, but I agree with Ahmad. We each have sons G.o.d help us."

Muhammad Iffat said playfully, "Both of you are strong advocates of democracy, but you're tyrants at home."

Ahmad Abd al-Jawad protested, "Do you really want me to a.s.semble Kamal, his mother, and Yasin to let them vote before I deal with a problem?"

Zubayda burst into laughter. She reminded him, "Please don't forget Zanuba!"

Ibrahim al-Far said, "If the revolution's the cause for the problems our children are causing us, may G.o.d forgive Sa'd Zaghlul."

The drinking, chatting, singing, and joking continued. The din became louder, and their voices blended together. The night advanced, oblivious to the world. He would look at her and find her watching him, or she would be the one to glance at him and catch him watching her. He told himself, "In this world there's only one true pleasure". He wanted to express this thought but did not, either because his enthusiasm for sharing it weakened or because he did not feel he could say it. But why should he feel weak?

Once again he asked himself whether this was to be an hour's enjoyment or a long affair. His soul pined for entertainment and consolation, but there was a ringing in his ears, as though the waves of the Nile were whispering to him. He was almost halfway through his sixth decade. "Ask scholars how a lifetime can pa.s.s like this. We know it's happening, but at the same time we don't."

"What's silenced you? May G.o.d spare us evil."

"Me? A little rest "

"Yes, how sweet it is to rest," he told himself. "A long sleep from which you'll rise in good health. How delightful it is to be healthy . But they're always after you, not leaving you a single moment to enjoy peace. This look is fascinating, but the whispering of the waves is growing louder. How can you hear the singing?"

"Certainly not. We won't leave until we give him a proper wedding procession. What do you think? A procession a procession! "

"Rise, my camel."

"Me? A little rest."

"The procession the procession, like the first time at the house in al-Ghuriya."

"Thar was long ago."

"We'll revive it. The procession the procession."

"They're merciless. That time's vanished. It's hidden by dark shadows. How thick the darkness is! How my ears are ringing! What an overpowering forgetfulness!"

"Look!"

"What's wrong with him?"

"A little water. Open the window."

"O Gracious One, O Lord "

"It's all right all right. Wet this handkerchief in cold water."

113.

DURING THE week after the father's "accident," he was visited every day by the doctor, but his condition was critical enough that no one else was allowed to call on him. Even his children had to tiptoe into the room for a glimpse of his sleeping face. They would carefully note his look of resigned exhaustion before retreating with gloomy expressions and sinking hearts. They glanced with interest at one another but shrank from the sad reinforcement this exchange provided.

The physician said the seizure was a result of high blood pressure. He cupped the patient, filling a basin with blood, which Khadija, trembling all over, described as black. Amina emerged from the room now and again, looking like an aimless phantom. Kamal seemed to be in a daze, as though asking himself how such earth-shaking events could occur in the twinkling of an eye and how this colossus of a man could have succ.u.mbed. Whenever he stole a look at his mother's ghostly form, Khadija's tearful eyes, or Aisha's pale face, he wondered again what all this meant. He found himself unconsciously led to imagine the end hisheart dreaded. He pictured a world without his father, and this vision chilled his breast and alarmed hisheart. He asked himself apprehensively how his mother could possibly survive. She already appeared as good as dead, and nothing had happened yet. Then he thought of Fahmy and wondered whether their father would be forgotten as easily as their late brother. The world seemed lost in gloom.

Yasin learned of the incident the day after it occurred and came to the house for the first time since he had left to marry Maryam. He went directly to his father's room and silently looked at al-Sayyid Ahmad for a long time. Then he retreated to the sitting room in a state of shock. He found Amina there, and they shook hands after their long separation. He was deeply touched, and his eyes filled with tears as he held her hand.

Al-Sayyid Ahmad remained in bed. At first he could not speak or move. The cupping put some life into him, and he was then able to get out a word or a brief phrase to make his wishes known. But at that time, he became conscious of his pain, which he expressed in a.s.sorted moans and groans. Once the intensity of his physical pain diminished, he became restless with this compulsory bed rest, which deprived him of the blessings of motion and cleanliness. He was obliged to eat, drink, and do things that disgusted him all in one place - his bed. His sleep was interrupted, but his annoyance was continual. The first thing he wanted to know was how he had been conveyed to the house when unconscious.

Amina replied that his friends Muhammad Iffat, Ali Abd al-Rahim, and Ibrahim al-Far - had brought him home in a carriage and had gently taken him up to bed. Then they had found a doctor for him., even though it was very late.

After that, he asked if he had had visitors, and the woman told him they had come regularly, although the physician had forbidden them to see him for the time being.

[n a weak voice he repeated, "The matter's in G.o.d's hands, both first and last," and "We ask G.o.d for a good outcome". But the truth was that he did not despair and did not feel his end was near. His confidence in the life he loved was no weaker, despite his pains and fears. Hope came back with the return of consciousness. He favored no one with last words of advice, made no disposition of his effects, said farewell to no one, and did not reveal any secrets of his busiuess or fortune to those involved. To the contrary, he summoned Jamil al-Hamzawi and asked him to arrange some commercial transactionshe himself would not have known how to conduct. He sent Kamal to the tailor to collect and pay for some new clo th.e.s.h.e had ordered. His only mention of death was in these phraseshe repeated as if to mask fate's cruelty.

At the end of the first week the doctor explained that the invalid had successfully survived the critical stage and would regain hishealth completely and feel as energetic as ever, with a little patience. The physician repeated the previous warning about high blood pressure, and al-Sayyid Ahmad promised to obey. He also vowed secretly to abstain from licentious behavior, for its disastrous consequences were now clear to him and had convinced him that, hishealth was not a joking matter anymore. He consoled himself by saying, "A healthy life with a little self-denial's better at any rate than being sick". Thus the crisis was successfully overcome. The family members caught their breath, their hearts full of grat.i.tude.

By the end of the second week, al-Sayyid Ahmad was permitted to receive visitors. That was a happy day, and his family were the first to celebrate it. His children with their spouses called on him and conversed with him for the first time since he had been confined to bed. The man looked from face to face, from Yasin to Khadija, Aisha, Ibrahim Shawkat, and Khalil Shawkat. With his customary charm, which did not desert him even in such circ.u.mstances, he asked about their children: Ridwan, Abd al-Muni'm, Ahmad, Na'ima, Uthman, and Muhammad. They said they had not brought the children for fear of disturbing him and prayed he would have a long life and be totally restored to good health. They told him of their sorrow over his suffering and their delight at his recovery. Khadija's voice trembled when she spoke, and the tear Aisha left on his hand when she kissed it required no explanation. Yasin suavely said that he had felt ill when his father did and had recovered with him when G.o.d had granted a cure. The father's pale face was radiant with joy, and he spoke to them at length about G.o.d's decrees, mercy, and grace, explaining that it was the Believer's duty to meet his fate with patience and confidence and to trust only in G.o.d.

On leaving his bedroom, they went to Kamal's room so the sitting room would be free to serve as a corridor for the antic.i.p.ated throngs of visitors.

Yasin approached Amina then and clasped her hand in his as he said, "I haven't spoken to you of my feelings during the last two weeks because Papa's illness left me no mind with which to think. Now that G.o.d has restored him to health, I want to apologize for returning to this house without first asking your permission. The truth is that you received me with the same affection as in the happy bygone days, but now it's my duty to present my formal apology to you."

Amina blushed as she replied emotionally, "What's done is done, Yasin! This is your home. You're most welcome to stay here whenever you want."

Yasin said firmly, "I don't like to rake up the past, but I swear by my father'shead and the life of my son Ridwan that my heart never harbored any grudge against the members of this family. I love you all as much as I do myself. Perhaps Satan prompted me to err. That could happen to anyone. But my heart was never corrupted."

Amina placed her hand on his broad shoulder and said sincerely, "You've always been one of my children. I don't deny I got angry once, bat the anger's gone, praise G.o.d. All that's left is the previous love. This is your home, Yasin. Welcome home!"

Yasin sat down forcefully. When Amina left the room, he proclaimed to the others, "What a fine woman! May G.o.d never forgive a person who wrongsher. G.o.d's curse on Satan, who once tempted me into something that hurt her feelings."

Casting him an eloquent look, Khadija remarked, "Scarcely a year goes by without Satan tempting you into a new disaster. You're just a toy in his hands."

The glance he directed at her seemed to plead for mercy from her tongue. Then Aisha said in his defense, "That's all ancient history."

Khadija asked sarcastically, "Why didn't you bring madame your wife to 'entertain' us on this blessed occasion?"

Attempting to sound proud, Yasin answered, "My wife no longer entertains at parties. Today she's a lady in every sense of the word."

In an earnest voice without a trace of sarcasm, Khadija asked, "How can you do such things, Yasin? May our Lord grant you repentance and guide you."

As though to apologize for his wife's bluntness, Ibrahim Shawkat said, "Don't be offended, Mr. Yasin but what am I to do? She's your sister."

Smiling, Yasin replied, "May G.o.d a.s.sist you, Mr. Ibrahim."

Aisha sighed and said, "Now that G.o.d has come to Papa's aid, ['11 tell you frankly that I'll never forget, as long as I live, the way he looked m bed the first time I saw him there. May our Lord not condemn anyone to ill health."

Khadija commented sincerely and ardently, "This life wouldn't be worth a fingernail clipping without him."

Yasin responded pa.s.sionately, "He's our shelter in every adversity, a man like no other "And what about me?" Kamal asked himself. "Do you remember how you stood in the corner of the room overwhelmed by despair? My heart was shattered by the sight of my mother beside herself with grief. We're familiar with the concept of death, but when its shadow looms on the horizon, the earth spins under us. There will be new attacks of pain each time, no matter how many loved ones you lose. You'll die too, leaving your hopes behind you. But life's desirable, even if you suffer from love."

The ringing of a carriage bell could be heard from the street. Aisha ran to the window to look out the peephole. She turned back to say proudly, "Important visitors!"

There was a steady stream of visitors representing the many friends with whom the father's life was filled civil servants, attorneys, dignitaries, and merchants. All but a few had been to the house before, although some had come only as guests at the banquets al-Sayyid Ahmad hosted on special occasions. There were also some faces frequently seen in the Goldsmiths Bazaar and on New Street. These men were his friends too, but not in the same cla.s.s as Muhammad Iffat and his cronies.

The visitors did not stay long, as was appropriate for a sick call, but al-Sayyid Ahmad's children found plenty to satisfy their vanity and pride in the distinguished appearance of these guests and in all the carriages with their beautiful horses.

Aisha, who was still watching the street, said, "Here are his pals."

They could hear the voices of Muhammad Iffat, Ali Abd al-Rahim, and Ibrahim al-Far as the men laughed and raised their voices with thanks and praise for G.o.d. Yasin said, "There are no other friends left in the world like these."

Ibrahim and Khalil Shawkat agreed with him. Then Kamal observed with a sorrow that pa.s.sed unnoticed, "It's rare for life to allow friends to stay together for as long as these men."

Yasin marveled, "A day hasn't gone by without their visiting the house. During his crisis, there were tears in their eyes whenever they left."

Ibrahim Shawkat said, "Don't be amazed by that, for they've spent more time with him than you have."

At this point Khadija went to the kitchen to offer her a.s.sistance, since the flow of visitors was continuing unabated. Jamil al-Ham-zawi came after closing the store. He was followed by Ghunaym Hamidu, who owned an oil press in al-Gamaliya, and Muhammad Ajami, who sold couscous in al-Salihiya. Then, pointing to the street from the window, Aisha cried out, "Shaykh Mutawalli Abd al-Samad! I wonder if he'll be able to climb to the top floor."

Leaning on his stick, the shaykh began to cross the courtyard, clearing, his throat from time to time to warn anyone in his way that he was corning. Yasin responded, "He can climb to the top of a minaret". Then, seeing Khalil Shawkat try to figure up the shaykh'5 age with his fingers, Yasin continued: "Between eighty and ninety! But don't inquire about hishealth."

Kamal asked, "Did he never marry during this long life?"

Yasirj answered, "It's said that he was a husband and a father but that his wife and children pa.s.sed on to the mercy of G.o.d."

Aisha cried out again, not having budged from her post at the window, "Look! This foreigner! I wonder who he could be."

The man crossed the courtyard, casting a cautious, inquisitive glance around. He wore a round straw hat, and visible beneath the rim was a pockmarked, curved nose and a bushy mustache. Ibrahim said, "Perhapshe's a goldsmith from the Goldsmiths Bazaar."

Yasir muttered anxiously, "But he looks Greek. Where do you suppose I've seen that face before?"

A blind youth arrived wearing dark gla.s.ses. He was being dragged along by a man in traditional attire with a shawl wrapped around hishead, sporting a long black overcoat beneath which could be seen the tail of a striped gown. Yasin recognized them immediately and was utterly astonished. The blind youth was Abduh, who played the zitherlike qanun in Zubayda's troupe. The ottier man, called al-Humayuni, was the proprietor of a famous coffeehouse in Wajh al-Birka and a gangster, ruffian, pimp, and so on.

KhaLl washeard to say, "The blind man's a qanun player for the vocalist Zubayda."

With feigned astonishment Yasin asked, "How doeshe know Papa?"

Ibrahim Shawkat smiled as he replied, "Your father's a music lover from way back. It's hardly strange that all the musicians know him."