Palace of Desire tct-2 Read online

Smiling as though to lighten the impact of his correction, Ibrahim amended Khadija's statement: "But you weren't satisfied to get wtiat was rightfully yours. You attacked anything you felt like criticizing, if my memory does not mislead me."

  Her hair concealed by a brown scarf, Khadija defiantly raised her head. Staring at her husband with scorn and rage, she asked, "Why should your memory mislead you? Do you have any thoughts or concerns to burden it enough to mislead you? If only everyone else could have a memory as calm, contented, and disinterested as yours! Your memory has not betrayed you, Mr. Ibrahim, but it has betrayed me. The truth is that I did not oppose your mother's power. It was of no interest to me, and I had no need for it. Praise God, I know my duties and how to perform them in the best possible way. But I did not like to sit at home while food was carried in from outside, as though we were guests at a hotel. If that weren't enough, unlike someone I know, I could not bear 1:0 spend my whole day sleeping or playing, while another person looked after my house."

  Aisha realized immediately that she was the target of the comment and laughed before Khadija had finished. As though motivated by compassion, the younger sister commented tenderly, "Do what you think best, and don't worry about other people or those you know. There's no reason for you to be unhappy now, for you're the mistress of your own destiny may Egypt achieve that too. You work from dawn to dusk in the kitchen, the bath, a ad on the roof. At one and the same time you look after the furniture, the chickens, and the children. The maid Suwaydan doesn't dare approach your apartment or pick up one of your children. My Lord… why all this exertion when a little would do?"

  Khadija responded with a thrust of her chin, while she fought off a smile betraying her pleasure with Aisha's comments. Then Yasin commented, "Some people are born to rule and others to serve."

  Revealing his overlapping incisors, Khalil Shawkat smiled and said, "Madam Khadija is a sterling example of a housewife, except that she overlooks her right to relaxation."

  Ibrahim Shawkat expressed his total agreement: "That's my opinion exactly. I've told her so repeatedly. Finally I decided to keep quiet to spare myself the headache."

  Kamal looked at his mother, who was filling Khalil's cup for the second time. He thought of his father and his dominance. His lips curled up in a smile. Then he looked at Ibrahim with astonishment and commented, "You seem to be afraid of her!"

  Shaking his large head, the man replied, "I attempt to avoid trouble whenever I can. Your sister attempts to avoid peace whenever she can."

  Khadija shouted, "Listen to this wisdom!" Then pointing at him as though challenging him to disagree, she continued: "You try your best to find a way to sleep."

  Giving her a warning look, her mother said, "Khadija!"

  Ibrahim patted his mother-in-law on the shoulder and remarked, "This goes on all the time at home… but see for yourself."

  Yasin was looking back and forth between the powerful, chubby Khadija and the slender, delicate Aisha in a way intended to draw people's attention to them. Then he said incredulously, "You've told us that Khadija works nonstop from dawn till dusk, but where's the evidence of this toil? She looks like the loafer, and Aisha the worker."

  To ward off the evil eye, Khadija spread her fingers apart and held up her hand with the palm facing Yasin, reciting, "And from the evil of the envious person in his envy" (Qur'an 113:5).

  Aisha was not satisfied with the turn the conversation had recently taken. A look of protest was apparent in her clear blue eyes. Ignoring the point of Yasin's remark and feeling a little jealous, she hastened to defend her slimness: "Plumpness is no longer in fashion nowadays". Sensing that Khadija's head was turning her way, Aisha corrected herself: "Or at least, many think slimness as fashionable as plumpness."

  Khadija commented scornfully, "Slenderness is in vogue among women who can't gain weight."

  Kamal's heart pounded when the word "slenderness" reached his ears. From his unconscious mind the image of a tall figure with a slender- build sprang into his imagination. His heart danced to a spiritual music inspiring raptures. A pure delight captivated him. Within that deep, calm dream he forgot himself, his location, and the time. He did not know how long it was before he became aware of a dark shadow of sadness, which frequently trailed along after his dreams. It did not arrive as an intrusive stranger or an incompatible element but flowed into his splendid dream like one of the threads from which it was woven or a melody forming part of its harmony. He sighed profoundly and then with his dreamy eyes glanced at the faceshe had loved for as long as he could remember. They seemed in one way or another to be challenged by her beauty, especially the fair-complexioned one of his sister Aisha. H e had once thirsted to drink from the place her lips had touched on the cup. He was embarrassed and almost unhappy to recall that, for he felt he should be devoted to no type of beauty save that of his beloved, even if other varieties might merit his affection and love.

  "I don't like slenderness, not even in men," Khadija continued. "Look at Kamal! He ought to gain some weight. Brother, learning's not all there is to life."

  Kamal listened to her with a scornful smile. He was examining her body, with its folds of fat and flesh, and her face, which had become so plump that its defects were no longer apparent. He was amazed by the happiness and victory her appearance conveyed but did not feel inclined to debate with her.

  Yasin responded with defiant sarcasm: "Then, Khadija, you must like my looks a lot. Don't try to deny it."

  His right leg was folded under him while his left one extended to the floor. It was hot and he had opened the collar of his house shirt. Tufts of the thick black hair of his chest could be seen above the wide neck of his undershirt. Khadija cast a penetrating look at him before replying, "But you've overdone it just a tad, and the fat's gone to your brain. So that's an entirely different question!"

  As though at a loss for an answer, Yasin sighed and turned to ask Ibrahim Shawkat sympathetically and compassionately, "Tell me how you survive, caught between a wife like this and your mother?"

  Ibrahim lit a cigarette, took a drag on it, and exhaled, puffing out his cheeks. He thus joined his brother Khalil, who had not removed his pipe from his mouth except to speak, in polluting the air of the sitting room. Then he responded with apparent disinterest, "I act as though one of my ears was made of clay and the other of dough. This is what I've learned from experience."

  Looking at Yasin, Khadija commented in a loud voice that showed how angry she was, "Experience has nothing to do with it. I swear by your life with me that experience hasn't taught you this. The fact is that our Lord gave him a temperament as smooth as Uncle Badr the Turk's ice cream. Even if the minaret of al-Husayn Mosque started shaking, not a hair of his head would be ruffled."

  Amina raised her head and gave Khadija a critical, warning look until the daughter smiled and lowered her eyes as if embarrassed. Then Khalil Shawkat said with gentle pride, "This is the temperament of the Shawkat family. It's an imperial one. Isn't that so?"

  Although Khadija laughed to lighten the impact of her words, she remarked pointedly, "Unfortunately for me, Mr. Khalil, your mother did not inherit this 'imperial' temperament."

  Amina's patience was exhausted, and she shot back, "Your mother-in-law has no equal. She is a lady in every sense of the word."

  With a gleam in his protruding eyes, Ibrahim tilted his head to the left to gaze down at his wife. Then, sighing victoriously, he said, "A witness from her own family has testified. God bless you, Mother-in-law". Then he addressed the whole assembly: "You're all aware that my mother's getting on in years. She's at an age when she needs to be treated with consideration and restraint, and my wife knows nothing of the latter."

  Khadija was quick to defend herself: "I don't get angry unless there's a reason. I've never been an irritable person. My family's present. You can ask them."

  Silence prevailed. The members of her family did not know what to say until a laugh escaped from Kamal. They all looked at him, and he could no
t keep from saying, "Dear Khadija is the most irritable self-restrained person I've ever known."

  Yasin found enough nerve to add, "Or the most self-restrained irritable person, and only God knows for sure."

  Khadija waited for the gale of laughter occasioned by these remarks to quiet down before gesturing toward Kamal as she shook her head regretfully. She said, "I've been betrayed by someone I held on my lap more often than I have my own sons, Ahmad and Abd al-Muni'm."

  Kamal replied somewhat apologetically, "I don't think I've revealed a secret…."

  Amina changed sides to defend Khadija, who appeared to be in trouble. With a smile she said, "Only God the Exalted is perfect."

  With equal suavity, Ibrahim Shawkat remarked, "You're right. My wife has virtues that must not be overlooked. God's curse on anger, which strikes the angry person first of all. In my opinion there's nothing in the world worth getting angry about."

  "How lucky you are!" Khadija said with a laugh. "That's why — and I dou't envy you no matter how many years pass, you're impervious to change."

  For the first time Amina's serious disapproval was evident. To v/arn Khadija she said, "May our Lord preserve his youth and that of others like him."

  Making no attempt to conceal his pleasure at his mother-in-law's prayer, Ibrahim laughingly asked, "Youth?"

  Addressing his remarks to Amina, Khalil Shawkat responded, "In our family, forty-nine is considered young."

  Amina said apprehensively, "Don't talk like that. Let's be done with it."

  Khadija smiled at her mother's evident anxiety, for she knew what motivated it. Any frank expression of praise for a person's health was disliked in the old house, because it showed an ignor-auce of the dangers of the evil eye. Even Khadija herself would not have referred to her husband's good health if she had not spent the last six years with the Shawkats, who paid little more than lip service to many beliefs, such as the danger of envy and the evil eye. They also delved fearlessly into various subjects, such as the jinn's conduct, death, and ill health, which were not discussed in her old home, because of the residents' anxiety and caution.

  The tie between Ibrahim and Khadija was firmer than it appeared on the surface and was not something a casual word or deed would harm. They were a successful couple, and each of them sensed deep inside that he could not do without the other, regardless of flaws. Strangely enough, it was when Ibrahim fell sick once that Khadija was able to reveal the love and devotion she harbored for him.

  Yes, there was always some quarrel going on between them, at least from her side. His mother was not her only target. Despite his diplomacy and calmness, she was never at a loss for something to criticize about him how much he slept, the way he lounged at home instead of going to work, his dismissal of any consideration of a career, his endless chatter, and the way he ignored domestic quarrels and disputes. According to Aisha, days and days would pass when her sister's conversation was totally given over to suspicious and acid remarks about him.

  In spite of all this, or perhaps because of it for an argument may improve a relationship like cayenne pepper, which adds zest to food their emotional commitment to each other remained strong and uninfluenced by moments of apparent annoyance with each other. It was like a deep current in the water that keeps a steady course, unaffected by surface turbulence or spray. Moreover, it took little effort for her husband to appreciate her exertion, evidence of which was everywhere in his sparkling residence, delicious meals, smart clothing, and tidy sons.

  He would tease her and say, "The truth is that you're a treasure, you gypsy."

  His mother's opinion of Khadija's energetic activity was quite different, and she did not hesitate to make it public during their frequent quarrels. She had told her daughter-in-law sarcastically, "This is a virtue for maids to brag about, not ladies."

  Khadija had shot back, "The only vocation you people have is eating and drinking. The true master of a house is the person who takes care of it."

  In the same scornful tone, the old lady had replied, "If they instilled such ideas in you at home, it was to conceal their opinion that you would never be good for anything except domestic service."

  Then the younger woman had screamed, "I know why you're furious with me. I've known ever since I refused to let you push me around in my own home."

  The mother-in-law had shrieked, "My Lord, I testify that al-Sayyid Ahmad Abd al-Jawad is a fine man, but he's fathered a she devil. I deserve to be beaten with a slipper as punishment for picking you."

  Khadija had gone off murmuring under her breath so the other woman would not hear, "You certainly deserve to be beaten with a slipper. I won't disagree with that."

  Yasin looked at Aisha. Smiling mischievously, he said, "How happy you are, Aisha. You're on good terms with all factions."

  Khadija perceived the veiled allusion to her in this remark. Shaking her shoulders disdainfully, she scolded him: "A troublemaker is trying to stir up dissension between two sisters."

  "Me? … God forbid. God knows my intentions are good."

  She shook her head as though in sorrow and replied, "You've never had a good intention."

  Commenting on Yasin's remark, Khalil Shawkat said, "We live peacefully. Our motto is: 'Live and let live.' "

  Khadija laughed until her gleaming teeth showed. In a tone not free of sarcasm she said, "At Khalil's house, it's one party after another. He's always strumming away on his lute while the lady of the house listens, primps in front of the mirror, or chats with this or that girlfriend through a window or the peephole of the enclosed balcony. Na'ima, Uthman, and Muhammad turn the chairs and pillows into a playground, and if Abd al-Muni'm and Ahmad get fed up with my supervision, they flee to their aunt's apartment, where they join the demolition squad."

  Aisha asked with a smile, "In your opinion, is that all there is to our happy home?"

  Khadija replied in the same tone, "Or you might be singing while Na'ima dances…."

  Aisha said boastfully, "I'm satisfied with the affection of all the neighbors and my mother-in-law."

  "I don't see myself confiding in one of these chatterboxes, and as for your mother-in-law, she likes anyone who flatters her and bows down before her."

  "We ought to love people. How wonderful it is when people love us 1:00. Then hearts truly speak directly to each other. My friends all fear you. They frequently tell me, 'Your sister doesn't make us feel at home and never tires of putting us down.' " Then, laughingly addressing her mother, Aisha continued: "She still gives people comic nicknames that we joke about at home.Abd al-Muni'm and Ahmad memorize them and repeat them to boys in the neighborhood. That way they become widely known."

  Amina smiled again. Khadija, who appeared to be remembering some awkward situations, laughed uneasily. With unconcealed delight, Khalil said, "When you put all of us together, we're a complete ensemble, with a lute player, a vocalist, and a dancer. We only need some more singers and a chorus, but I have my hopes set on my children. It's just a question of time."

  Directing his comments to Amina, Ibrahim Shawkat said, "I can testify that your granddaughter Na'ima is a brilliant dancer."

  Amina laughed until her pale face turned red. Then she replied, "I've seen her dance. She's charming!"

  With an enthusiasm that revealed her well-known affection for her family, Khadija exclaimed, "How beautiful she is! She looks like a picture in an advertisement."

  "What a beautiful bride she'll make for Ridwan," Yasin commented.

  With a laugh Aisha protested, "But she was the first of the grandchildren…. (Oh, I'll never be able to lie about her age the way a mother should.)"

  Yasin asked calmly, "Why do people insist on the bride being younger than the bridegroom?"

  No one answered, but Amina observed, "Na'ima won't have to wait long to find a suitable husband."

  Khadija added, "My Lord, how beautiful she is! I've never seen anyone as beautiful."

  "What about her mother?" Aisha asked with a laugh. "Haven't you
seen her mother?"

  Khadija frowned to lend dignity to her remarks and said, "She's more beautiful than you, Aisha. You can't contest that". Her ironic spirit returned at once, and she continued: "And I'm more beautiful than either of you."

  "These people are talking about beauty," Kamal reflected. "What do they know about its essence? They like certain colors: the whiteness of ivory and the gold of precious ingots. If you ask me about beauty I won't speak of a pure bronze complexion, tranquil black eyes, a slim figure, and Parisian elegance. Certainly not! All those are pretty, but they're nothing but lines, shapes, and colors subject to investigation by the senses and open to comparison. Beauty itself is a painful convulsion in the heart, an abundance of vitality in the soul, and a mad chase undertaken by the spirit until it encounters the heavens. Tell me about this, if you can…."

  "Why should the ladies of Sugar Street seek the affection of Mrs. Khadija?" Yasin asked, to stir his sister up again, when he noticed that the conversation was going to leave her in peace. "Perhaps she does have some good qualities, as her husband has testified, but in general people are attracted by a pretty face and a sweet tongue."

  Khadija threw him a look as if to say, "If you knew what was good for you, you'd quit". Sighing audibly, she remarked, "What more can I ask than God's protection and blessings. I didn't know I had another mother-in-law here."

  Then, to Yasin's surprise, she took up the topic again in a serious vein, explaining, "I don't have time to waste on visits. The house aud the children consume every moment, especially since my husband pays no attention to either."

  In his own defense, Ibrahim Shawkat said, "Fear God and don't exaggerate your role in everything. The truth of the matter is that a man with a wife like mine must take an active, defensive role from time to time, whether to protect pieces of furniture from being dusted and cleaned so much they're almost worn away or children from being pushed beyond their capacities. The most recent incident of this kind, as you know, is her thrusting Abd ai-Muni'm into religious school before he's even five."