When they had settled back in their places, Kamal could not keep himself from glancing stealthily at Hasan Salim, whom he found calm and composed. Kamal had been apprehensive, imagining that his friend would look conceited or gloating. Experiencing some fleeting relief, Kamal proceeded to rally all his strength to hide his bloody wound from their watchful eyes, in order to keep himself from becoming the target of mocking sarcasm.
"Be firm, my soul. I promise we'll return to all this later. We'll suffer together until we perish. We'll think through everything until we go insane. It will be a satisfying moment in the still of the night, with no eye to observe or ear to eavesdrop, when pain, delirium, and tears are unveiled… far from any critic or scold. Then there's the old well. I'll remove the cover, scream down it to the resident demons, and confide my woes to the tears collected in the belly of the earth there from sad people everywhere. Don't capitulate. Beware, for the world seems as fiery red to you now as the pit of hell."
Adopting an accusatory tone, Isma'il said, "Not so fast! Both of you owe us an explanation. How did this come about without any advance warning? Or let's put that aside temporarily. How could you have celebrated the engagement without inviting us?"
Husayn Shaddad replied defensively, "There wasn't a party, not even a small one. The gathering was limited to immediate family members. Your time will come when we celebrate the marriage contract. Then you'll be among the hosts, not the guests."
"The wedding day! That could be the title of a funeral dirge. The heart will be conducted in solemn procession to its final resting place surrounded by flowers, as people pay their last respects with shrieking trills. In the name of love, the young woman raised in Paris will bow before the turbaned shaykh as he recites the opening prayer of the Qur'an. In the name of pride, Satan left paradise."
Smiling, Kamal said, "Your excuse is accepted, and your invitation welcomed."
Isma'il Latif objected loudly: "Eloquence like this belongs with the seminarians at al-Azhar Mosque. When some people see food on the horizon, they forget they have any cause for complaint and magnanimously begin singing the praises of their hosts, all for the sake of a hearty meal. You're a true writer or philosopher or some other type of beggar like that, but I'm not."
Then he continued his attack on Husayn Shaddad and Hasan Salim: "You two are a couple of rascals… a long silence followed by the announcement of an engagement. Huh? Really, Mr. Hasan, you're the long-awaited successor for Tharwat Pasha, who did such a good job of suppressing information when he was Prime Minister."
Smiling apologetically, Hasan Salim said, "Husayn himself knew nothing of the matter until only a few days ago."
Isma'il asked, "Was this a unilateral engagement, like Great Britain's unilateral declaration of Egyptian independence on February 28, 1922?"
The conquered Egyptian nation as a whole had proudly rejected that declaration, but nominal sovereignty had been thrust upon it, with the inevitable consequences. Kamal laughed out loud.
Winking at Hasan Salim, Isma'il carelessly mangled and mis-attributed a quotation from the prophet Muhammad: "To accomplish' I don't remember what 'rely on secrecy.' The caliph Umar ibn al-Khattab said that… or the poet Umar ibn Abi Rabi'a, or Omar Effendi down at the department store. God only knows."
Kamal said suddenly, "It's customary for matters like these to come to fruition silently, although I must acknowledge that Mr. Hasan once referred to something of this kind in a conversation with me."
Isma'il gazed at him skeptically. Looking at Kamal with wide eyes, Hasan corrected him: "It was more like subtle hints."
Kamal asked himself in amazement how this statement had escaped from his mouth. It was a lie or at best a half-truth. How could he have wished to convince Hasan in this devious manner that he, Kamal, knew about the young man's intentions and had not been surprised or troubled by them? "What stupidity!"
Staring critically at Hasan, Isma'il told him, "But I didn't garner a single one of these subtle hints."
Hasan replied earnestly, "I assure you that if Kamal found anything in my remarks he considered a reference to a forthcoming engagement, he must have relied on his imagination, not my words."
Husayn Shaddad laughed loudly. He said to Hasan Salim, "Isma'il's your lifelong friend. He wants you to realize that even if you have gotten your degree three years ahead of him, that doesn't mean you should begrudge him your secrets or favor others with them instead."
Smiling as though to conceal his discomfort, Isma'il observed, "I don't question his friendship, but I'll keep after him so I'm not forgotten in a similar manner on his wedding day."
Smiling, Kamal said, "We're friends of both parties. If the bridegroom forgets us, surely the bride won't."
He spoke to prove to himself that he was still alive. But he was alive with pain, intense pain. Had he ever imagined his love would end in any other way? Certainly not…yet belief in the inevitability of death does not diminish our anguish when it arrives. This was a ferocious, irrational, and merciless pain. He wished he could see it, so he might know where it was concealed or the microbe from which it had emerged. Between seizures of pain he was a victim of lethargy and listlessness.
"When will the ceremony take place?" Isma'il asked the question thai: was running through Kamal's mind, as though he had been delegated to represent Kamal's thoughts.
But Kamal would have to speak too. He commented, "Yes, it's very important for us to know, so we won't be taken by surprise again. When's the wedding?"
Husayn laughingly asked, "Why are you two in such a hurry? Let's give the bridegroom a chance to enjoy what's left of his bacheloi days."
With his customary composure Hasan said, "First of all, I need to learn whether I'm to stay in Egypt or not."
Husayn Shaddad explained, "He's going to be appointed either to the attorney general's staff or to the diplomatic corps."
"Husayn seems delighted with this engagement," Kamal reflected. "I can assert that I hated him, if only momentarily, for having betrayed me. Has anyone double-crossed me?
Everything seems such a confusion. But this evening I'll be alone…."
"Which would you prefer, Mr. Hasan?"
"Let him choose whatever he wants…judicial service, diplomatic corps, the Sudan… Syria if possible."
"Working as a prosecutor somewhere would be an insult. I'd prefer to be a diplomat."
"It would be good if your father understood that clearly, so he can concentrate on getting you into it". This sentence too jumped out of Kamal's mouth. No doubt it was on target. He would have to get control of his nerves. Otherwise he would find himself embroiled in a public dispute with Hasan. He would also have to keep Husayn Shaddad's feelings in mind, for these two now formed a single family. How cruel this stabbing pain was!
Isma'il shook his head sorrowfully and said, "These are your last days with us, Hasan. After a lifelong relationship, this comes as a sad end."
How stupid it was of Isma'il to think that sorrow could influence a heart grazing in the beloved's oasis.
"It really is a sad ending, Isma'il."
"Lie upon lie …" Kamal thought, "like your congratulations to him. In this respect the merchant's son and the son of the superior court judge are equal."
He asked, "Does this mean you'll spend your whole life outside the country?"
"That's what I expect. We'll only see Egypt on rare occasions."
Isma'il marveled: "What a strange life! Have you thought about the difficulties it will pose for your children?"