Play continued and the game ended, contrary to initial projections, with a victory by Kamal. He beamed and laughed out loud before asking his opponent, "Another game?"
But Fuad replied with a smile, "That's enough for today". Either he was tired of playing or apprehensive that the proposed match would end in disappointment for Kamal, whose happiness would turn to sorrow.
Kamal shook his head in amazement and commented, "You're a cold fish!" Rubbing the tip of his nose with his thumb and index finger, he added critically, "I'm amazed at you. When you're beaten, you're not interested in avenging your defeat. You love Sa'd Zaglilul but shunned the demonstration to salute him when he becam e Prime Minister. You seek the blessings of our master al-Husayn but are unruffled by the revelation that his remains may not repose in the nearby sepulcher. You astound me!"
Kamal was intensely annoyed by his friend's icy composure. He could not stand what they termed "being reasonable". He would prefer by far to be "crazy". He remembered the day they were told at school, "The tomb of al-Husayn is a symbol and nothing more."
They had walked home together afterwards. Fuad had repeated the words of the Islamic history teacher. Kamal had asked himself in alarm how his friend was able to deal with this news as though it did not concern him. Kamal did not brood about it, for he was totally un able to think. How did someone in total revolt against an idea think? He was staggered by the frightful blow, which he felt even in ttie innermost reaches of his heart. He was weeping for a vision that had faded away and a dream that had evaporated. Al-Husayn was no longer their neighbor. He had never been their neighbor. What had become of all those kisseshe had pressed against the door of the sepulcher so sincerely and warmly? What had happened to his exultation and pride in being a close neighbor of the Prophet's grandson? Nothing remained but a symbol in the mosque and desolate disappointment in his heart. He had wept that night until his pillow was soaked, but the revelation had stirred nothing in his reasonable friend save his tongue, which had reacted to the event by repeating their teacher's words. How dreadful it was to be reasonable!
"Does your father know you want to go to the Teachers College?"
When Kamal replied, the sharpness of his tone expressed displeasure with his friend's coldness as well as the pain left over from his interview with his father. "Yes!"
"What did he say?"
Kamal found some relief for his emotions by indirectly attacking his companion. "Alas, my father, like most other people, is crazy about sham forms of success like the civil service, the prosecutor's office, being a judge… that's all he cares about. I didn't know how to convince him of the grandeur of thought and the lofty values that truly deserve to be pursued in this life. But he left the decision up to me."
Fuad's fingers were toying with a domino when he asked compassionately, "No doubt these are lofty values, but where are they respected as they should be?"
"It's not possible for me to reject a heavenly creed simply because no one around me believes in it."
Fuad replied with a calmness intended to appease his friend: "You show admirable spirit, but wouldn't it be better to plan your future by the light of reality?"
"If our leader Sa'd Zaghlul had taken your advice," Kamal suggested scornfully, "do you suppose he would have thought seriously about going to the British Residency to demand independence for Egypt?"
Fuad smiled as though to say, "Although your argument's sound, it's not fit to serve as a general principle for life". He remarked aloud, "Study law so you'll be sure to have a respectable job. Afterwards you can pursue your cultural interests to your heart's content."
Defiantly Kamal retorted, "God didn't place 'two hearts in a man's breast' [Qur'an, 33:4]. And I must object to your association between legal studies and a respectable job. Isn't teaching a respectable profession?"
Fuad was quick to defend himself resolutely against this suspicion: "I didn't mean that at all. Who would ever say that gathering and distributing knowledge isn't respectable work? Perhaps I was unwittingly repeating what people say… people, as you suggested, who are dazzled by power and influence."
Kamal shrugged his shoulders in disgust and said with conviction, "A life dedicated to thought is certainly the most exalted type oflife."
Fuad nodded his head in agreement but said nothing. He took refuge in silence until Kamal asked him, "What was your reason for choosing Law School?"
He thought a little and then replied, "Unlike you, I'm not in love witli thought. I was able to select a branch of the University solely in terms of what it meant for my future. So I chose law."
Was this not the voice of reason? Of course it was, and that infuriated and revolted him. Was it not unfair for him to have to pass the entire summer vacation as a prisoner of this district with no companion besides this reasonable youth? There was another life totally unlike that of this ancient quarter. There were other companions who differed completely from Fuad. His soul yearned for that ether life and those other friends… for al-Abbasiya and its elegant young people. More than anything else he craved the refined elegance, Parisian accent, and exquisite dream of his beloved. Oh … he wanted to go home to be alone and bring out his diary. He would relive a moment, recall a memory, or record a flight of fancy. Was it not time for him to disband this party and leave?
"I mei: some people who asked about you."
Tearing himself away from the stream of his reflections, Kamal asked, "Who?"
Fuad replied with a laugh, "Qamar and Narjis!"
Qamar and Narjis were the daughters of Abu Sari', who roasted seeds and other snacks. Kamal remembered the vaulted section of Qirmiz jylley after sunset when the alleys were quite dark. They had fondled each other in a way that combined innocence with sexuality, as they feverishly approached puberty. He could remember all that, but why did his lips pucker up in disgust? That was all relatively ancient history, before the holy spirit had descended on him. He could not recall that flirtation without having his heart boil with anger, pain, and shame, since now it was filled with the wine of pure love.
"How did you come across them?"
"In the crowds at the commemoration of the birth of al-Husayn. I walked along beside them without any hesitation or embarrassment, as though we were all one family touring the sights of the festival."
"You have some nerve!"
"Occasionally...I greeted them and they replied. We talked for a long time. Then Qamar inquired about you."
Kamal blushed a little as he asked, "And then?"
"We agreed I'd tell you and that later we'd all get together."
Kamal shook his head to show his distaste for the idea and said tersely, "Certainly not."
Fuad was astonished. "Certainly not"? I thought you'd be happy to meet them in the vaulted alley or the courtyard of a deserted house. Their bodies have filled out. They'll soon be women in every sense of the word. By the way, Qamar was wearing a wrap but no veil. I laughingly told her that if she had been veiled I wouldn't have dared speak to her."
Kamal said emphatically, 'Of course not!"
"Why not?"
"I can no longer bear depravity". With a sharpness that betrayed his hidden pain: "I can't meet God in my prayers when my underclothes are soiled."
Fuad suggested innocently, "Then wash and cleanse yourself before you pray."