Chapter 13
The meeting on Azhar Street marked a new beginning in the life of Abbas el-Helw-an era of love, of the burning brand that sets the heart on fire, of the magic ecstasy that intoxicates the mind, of the lust that melts the sinews. He was gay, full of himself, and proud, like a knight nonpareil, or a drunk who never suffers a hangover. After that first encounter, they met frequently, never tiring of talking of their future. Hamida did not deny-in any way and whether he was present or not-that their futures had now become one, and she often put it to herself that none of her girlfriends from the workshop was likely to make a better match. She made up her mind, too, that she would walk out with him at the time when the girls made their appearance and, on so doing, stole glances at their gimlet eyes, apparently finding satisfaction in the effect that he had on them. One day, they asked her about the young man whom they'd "been seeing her with" and she said, "My fiance. He owns a barbershop."
Then they read the opening chapter of the Qur'an and drank sherbet.
Soon at Tell el-Kebir, with the start of each new day, I shall look for the beloved window whose sill I used to watch you sweeping or behind whose half-opened shutters you used to comb your hair, but how little trace of it will there be!
*****
Sheikh Darwish recited the Throne Verse over el-Helw's head
and said to him, "You have now become a volunteer in the British army, and if you demonstrate gallantry, the King of England may well cut you out a small kingdom and install you there as his represen
tative, or what is called in English viceroy, spelled v-i-c-e-r-o-y."
I shall pray for your success and shall visit the tomb of Our Master el-Hussein and ask him to watch over you and make success your destiny.
Early the following morning, el-Helw left the house, carrying his clothes
in a bundle. It was cold and very damp, and none of the inhabitants of the alley had awoken, with the exception of the baker's wife and Sunqur, the waiter at the cafe. The young man raised his head to the beloved window but found it closed, so bade it farewell with a look pa**ionate and tender enough to dry the dew on the shutters. Walking slowly, his head bowed, he reached the door to his shop, at which he cast another glance, and sighed, his eyes resting on a notice fixed to the door on which was written, in large handwriting, For Rent. He felt a twinge of regret and his eyes came close to shedding tears. As though fleeing his emotions, he hastened his steps. No sooner, however, had he left the alley behind him than his heart seemed to detach itself and return.