Another said, “Who would have thought that you’d end up in enemy territory, or that you’d come back with such an admiration for the enemy’s ways!”
“Well,” he replied with a smile, “enmity isn’t incompatible with admiration.”
Then Gabr Bey asked him, “Aren’t you still a radical Wafdist? You were thrown in prison once for the sake of the Wafd Party!”
Pursing his lips in disgust, the young man rejoined, “Now I see all Egyptians living in a huge prison. The fact is, sir, that the only news we used to hate to hear when we were in England was news from Egypt.”
Madame Nazli said with a smile, “You love to take all sorts of burdens on yourself, as though you were responsible for the world and everyone in it. Focus your attention on your clinic, your life, and especially the matter of getting married. Haven’t you noticed that you’re thirty years old now? You’re over the hill!”
To this one of Rabab’s two maternal aunts added, “Don’t worry! You may be hearing good news before the year is out.”
The conversation turned to the daughter of a certain prominent physician. Rabab, who was sitting beside me, said to me in a whisper that the girl they were speaking about was a legendary beauty and the heiress to a huge fortune. She told me that the girl had been her classmate for a period of time.
One of Rabab’s maternal uncles seemed to be drawn to discussions of politics. The minute the discussion of marriage ended, he turned to the doctor and said, “There’s no reason to be pessimistic. Everything will be reformed in the end, however long it takes. We’re about to have new elections, and a favorable wind may be blowing.”
The doctor’s eyes took on an added intensity as he said testily, “It’s better for this country to be ruled by a corrupt government. After all, a righteous government can’t do anything to speak of under currently prevailing conditions. So let the corrupt government throw its weight around however it pleases, since this way it hastens the end — the inevitable end!”
“You’re still a cynic and a discontent!” said Gabr Bey with a laugh. “Don’t you see anything in Egypt that deserves your admiration and appreciation?”
“Well, yes,” replied the doctor with a smile as he scanned his audience with his sparkling eyes, “Umm Kulthoum.”
And everyone roared with laughter. I’d begun listening to him with a mixture of interest and astonishment. However, I could hardly make any sense out of what he was saying. I was amazed at people who preoccupied themselves with such matters. Didn’t they have worries in their lives to distract them from such affairs? Based on his conversation he’d struck me as a learned, perceptive man and a revolutionary with a conceited, pretentious air. Hence, it came as a huge surprise to me to hear him mention Umm Kulthoum as the one thing in the country that deserved his admiration. And I wondered: Is it really possible for a serious, stern, caustic person like this crazy doctor to love singing too? Since I myself liked singing, I was pleased to discover this shared predisposition, especially after having racked my brain to find the slightest commonality between us.
The doctor was the first to leave, and everyone present rose to shake his hand. I too shook his hand, all the while searching his eyes with fear and trepidation. However, I failed to see anything in his haughty glances that would give me cause for suspicion. We left the gathering at around five o’clock, and as we walked home, my sweetheart commented endlessly on the banquet and the guests, but I wasn’t able to lend her my full attention. I’d succumbed to the profuse, tumultuous flow of my thoughts. How would I cope with the ill fortune that had crossed my path in the form of this mad physician? And how had fate led me to confess to him the secret that I dared not let even the walls hear?
47
After escorting Rabab to the door of our building, I made my way back to the tram stop, explaining my proposed absence on the basis of a few nonexistent errands I had to run. I took the tram to Ataba, and from there I made my way to Alfi Bey Street. My heart was pounding in fear and dread the way it had been the first time my feet carried me there, and in my mind’s eye I could see the glass, its mouth open wide with seductive allure. I’d forgotten about it. In fact, it hadn’t even crossed my mind since I’d won my heart’s desire. It had only come to mind again that day when what I saw in a coffee cup had stirred something deep inside me. My mother + my wife + Dr. Amin Rida = liquor: this was the equation I’d arrived at.
When I was just a step away from my old pub, I hesitated. Feeling suddenly worried and gloomy, I wondered to myself: Wouldn’t this be infidelity to my wife? However, I reprimanded myself for this peculiar logic and made my way inside. Then suddenly I imagined seeing my father, and my mind was assailed with images of him from the past. I reviewed them calmly and without any feeling of hatred or gleeful malice. Then I sat down at the table as I muttered, “May God have mercy on him and forgive him.”
The waiter rushed over and hailed me, saying, “Where have you been all this time?”
Gratified by the way he’d greeted me, I said with a smile, “In the world!”
Then I showed him my wedding ring and he said, “Congratulations! Congratulations! Have you had a child?”
Feeling resentful and pained, I shook my head in the negative. Then I ordered a glass of cognac and drank it leisurely until I could feel its effects creeping into my heart and head. My lips turned up in a smile that made sport of all my troubles, and I said to myself: Welcome, welcome! I left the pub at around seven, having been careful not to overdo it. But no sooner had I made it as far as Imad al-Din Street than I remembered the pub in the vegetable market. By this time I was in a state of mind that made light of obstacles, and I asked myself almost reproachfully: Just because you’re living comfortably now, does that mean you’re going to forget the pub that took you in when you were poor? And with that, I hailed a taxi and got in, and it took me posthaste to the pub that served as the favorite haunt of bankrupt government employees and carriage drivers. As I’d expected I would, I found the place in an uproarious state, complete with singing and revelry. The elderly employee known for his vocal talents was belting out the lines, “We’ll know all tomorrow!” while everyone intoned, “And then we’ll see!”
When he saw me coming, he stopped singing and shouted, “Quiet, guys!”
My old buddies recognized me, and we met with warm handshakes. No sooner had I settled into my seat than the old man asked me in a singsong voice, “Where have you been, handsome?”
I laughed out loud and said, “In the world.”
One of his chums said, “Let’s curse the world that forces friends to forget the ones they love!”
So I happily cursed the world with them. Then one of them happened to see the wedding band on my finger.
“You really have entered a world, buddy!” he exclaimed.
The announcement of the news had an all-encompassing effect.
The amateur singer asked me, “So, how do you find this world?”
I was alarmed to see the conversation turning to this perilous topic. However, I had no choice but to reply, “It’s nice! Aren’t you married, sir?”
The man smiled, revealing the few teeth he had left and said, “Once a woman gets beyond her youth, she’s not a woman anymore.”
Affirming what he’d said, another added, “That’s right. Woman has the shortest lifespan of all living creatures, even if she lives to a ripe old age!”
And another chimed in, “My wife picks a fight with me for every evening I spend here. So I told her, ‘I’m willing to quit going to the pub on one condition: that you quit this world!’ ”