"Do you live alone in the Palace of Desire?"
"Yes.'"
"My heart goes out to you."
It was a phrase that either a devil or an angel might have uttered. Was Maryam listening behind the door?
"You've experienced lonelinesshere in your house. It's unbearable."
"Truly unbearable!"
She suddenly put her hand up to her scarf and jerked it from her head and neck, saying apologetically, "Excuse me. It's hot."
Her head in its orange kerchief and her spotless neck could now be seen. He gazed at her neck for some time with increasing anxiety. Then he looked at the door as though to ask who might be lurking behind it. God help the suitor who came asking for the hand of the daughter and fell into the clutches of the mother.
In response to her apology he said, "Make yourself comfortable. You're in your own house. There's no stranger present."
"I wish Maryam were home so I could break the good news to her."
His heart pounded as if directing him to attack. He asked, "Where is she?"
"With friends in al-Darb al-Ahmar."
"Farewell, reason!" he thought. "Your daughter's fiance wants you and you want him. May God be merciful to anyone who thinks well of women. This woman must not have any sense. She's been our neighbor all my life, and I'm only finding out who she is today… a madwoman … a fifty-year-old adolescent."
"When will Miss Maryam return?"
"Late in the afternoon…."
Wickedly he said, "I feel my visit's lasted too long."
"It's not a long visit, for you're at home."
With equal naughtinesshe inquired, "I wonder whether I may hope you'll return my call."
She smiled broadly as though to tell him, "I understand what's behind this invitation". Then she bowed her head with embarrassment, although the theatrics of her gesture did not escape him.
He did not concern himself with that but started to describe the location of his house and of his apartment within that building.
Her head bowed, she smiled silently. Was she not conscious of wronging and injuring her daughter in the clearest possible way?
"When will you honor me with a visit?"
She mumbled as she raised her head, "I don't know what to say."
Confidently and firmly he said, "I'll answer on your behalf. Tomorrow evening. You'll find me waiting for you."
"There are matters we must take into account."
"We'll deal with all of them… at my house."
He rose at once and started to go toward her, but she gestured for him to keep his distance and looked toward the door to caution him.
"Tomorrow evening," she said, as though her only goal was to avert his attack.
83
The house in Palace of Desire Alley came to know Bahija as a persistent visitor. Once darkness spread its veil, the lady draped herself in her wrap and proceeded to al-Gamaliya, heading for the home that had once belonged to Yasin's mother, Haniya. There she found Yasin waiting for her in the only furnished room of the apartment. They never referred to Maryam, except once when Bahija said, "I wasn't able to keep the news of your visit from Maryam, because our maid knows you. But I told her you had mentioned your interest in asking for her hand once the obstacles blocking your way in the family circle were overcome."
He was too astonished by her remark to care to comment and merely expressed his agreement and approval. Together they embarked on a life of sensual gratification. Yasin found the custodian of the treasured rump submissive to his every whim, and he himself was as free from inhibitions as a wild stallion. The hastily and frugally furnished room was not an ideal location for an affair, but Yasin went out of his way to create an attractive atmosphere by providing an ample supply of food and drinks so that their trysts would go well. He assaulted her repeatedly with an appetite that knew no limit or moderation.
Shortly before the first week had run its course Yasin began to feel bored. His lust was once more acting out the same cycle he had experienced before, as the remedy became an ailment. At least it did not come as a surprise to him. From the beginning he had harbored no good intentions whatsoever for that curious relationship and had not expected it to last. He obviously thought this romance in the parlor was no more than a passing fling but found that the woman was becoming attached to him. She wanted him and hoped he would be so satisfied with her that he would abandon the idea of marrying her daughter. He saw no alternative to humoring her, lest he put his pleasure at risk. He believed that time bore the sole responsibility for returning everything to normal.
Matters quickly sorted themselves out, probably faster than he had imagined possible. He had gone along with her, thinking that the novelty of her charms would be enough to sustain her appeal for several weeks or a month, but he must have miscalculated. Although her appearance was seductive, it had caused him to commit the greatest folly of a life littered with them. Her years lay concealed behind that beauty like a fever disguised by rosy cheeks. The pounds and pounds of flesh treasured in layers under the folds of her clothes were, as he put it, not quite as appealing when seen stripped naked, for nothing records the effects of a sad life so graphically as the human body. He even told himself, "Now I understand why women are crazy about clothes."
Considering all this, it was hardly strange that he referred to her as a "plague" once he tired of her attentions or that he should resolve to end their relationship. As his mad infatuation with her mother faded, Maryam regained her previous place in his affections. In fact, she had never lost it but had been overshadowed by this unexpected outbreak of passion like the moon obscured by a fleeting cloud. How amazing! His desire for Maryam was no longer merely a response to his insatiable lust for women, even if that was the dominant factor. His interest in her was also furthered by his longing to start a family, an eventuality he considered both desirable and predestined.
Yasin reluctantly counseled himself to be patient until Bahija returned to her senses, assuming that she would tell him one day, "We've had enough fun. Now go to your bride". But his hopes found no echo in her. She visited him persistently night after night, growing ever more overwhelming and intense. He sensed that as time passed she was beginning to believe he was rightfully hers, as though he had become her property and the pivot around which her life revolved.
She did not think of the affair as a trivial or humorous escapade, and the frivolous, fickle, and reckless character she displayed convinced him that her aberrant behavior with him at their first meeting had not been an isolated phenomenon. Feeling that she was cheap, he scorned her. To his critical eyes her defects were magnified until he was totally disgusted with her. He decided to get rid of her at the first opportunity, although he was eager to avoid any rude conduct that would strew the path to Maryam with obstacles.
One time he said, "Doesn't Maryam ask what has become of me?"
With a reassuring toss of her head, she answered, "She knows perfectly well that your family's opposed."
After some hesitation he said, "I'll tell you frankly that we used to converse occasionally on the roof and that I assured her repeatedly of my determination to marry her, regardless of opposition from any quarter…."
She gave him a piercing look and asked, "What are you trying to say?"
With feigned innocence he replied, "I mean she's heard that assurance from me and knows of my subsequent visit. She needs to be offered some convincing explanation for my disappearance."