Chapter 34
Uncle Kamel said to Abbas el-Helw, "Master Radwan's advice leaves no room for any other. Gather together your things, put your trust in God, and go. I will wait for you, no matter how long or short your absence, God willing, and be the top barber in the whole of this alley." El-Helw was sitting on a chair in front of the basbousa shop not far from Uncle Kamel, listening to his friend without saying a word. He had told no one of his new secret. When Master Radwan el-Husseini had offered him his advice, he had tried to unburden himself but had hesitated for a moment and Master Radwan had started speaking to Hussein Kersha and he'd quickly given up the idea. He did not simply ignore Master Radwan's advice: he thought about it for a while, though that Sunday, whose strange encounter in the flower shop was now a day past, dominated his thoughts. He had turned over what had happened in his mind calmly and slowly and had realized in the end that he still loved the girl, even though his ties to her were now forever severed, and that his desire to seek revenge on his foe could not be denied.
He listened to Uncle Kamel's words in silence, then expelled from his depths a sigh such as a wretch whom fate had shackled and placed on the crumbling edge of a dike might fetch. "What have you decided?" Uncle Kamel asked him anxiously.
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Hussein raised his eyebrows quizzically, as though it would be too much trouble to allow the newcomer to spoil his mood, but Abbas, jerked from his normal state of consciousness by worry, took hold of his arm and pulled at him till he stood up, telling him as he did so, "I need you urgently."
The other young man let an indignant gasp escape his lips, paid his check, and left the bar in the company of his friend. Abbas had made a point of dragging him from the bar before he could get too drunk to give him any useful advice.
When they reached Mouski Street, he said, as though getting a
nightmare off his chest, "I've found Hamida, Hussein."
Hussein's small eyes evinced interest and he asked him, "Where?"
"Remember the woman in the carriage whom I ran after yesterday and you asked me about today but you couldn't get a clear answer out of me? That was none other than Hamida!"
Amazed and mocking, the young man cried, ' re you drunk?
What are you saying?"
His voice serious and strongly affected, Abbas said, "Believe me! That was Harnida her very self I recognized her the moment I set eyes on her, so I ran after the carriage, as you saw, till I caught up with her and I spoke to her."
"You expect me to doubt my own eyes?" Hussein asked, in surprise
and disbelief. El-Helw sighed sorrowfully and started to tell him the conversa tion that had taken place between them, hiding nothing from him. The other listened with the keenest interest throughout and Abbas ended by saying, "This is what I wanted to tell you. Harnida has fallen into the abyss and there's no saving her, but I shall not let that wicked criminal escape unpunished."
Hussein gave him a long look that puzzled him. The young man was by nature disdainful and blase, and he recovered from his sur prise faster than his friend had expected. Contemptuously, he said, "The original criminal is Harnida. Didn't she run off with him? Didn't she give in to him? What do you have to blame him for? He liked a girl, so he seduced her. He found she was easy; so he got what he wanted, and he wanted to exploit her, so he sent her out into the bars. In fact, I'd say he was a clever guy; and I wish I could do the same so I could get out of the mess I'm in. Hamida's the criminal, my friend." Abbas, who understood his friend well and didn't doubt that he would not hesitate to do the same as his foe, avoided criticizing his conduct or character and decided to try another approach, appeal ing to his pride. "Don't you think the man has insulted our honor and deserves to be taught a lesson?" he said.
It did not escape Hussein that in saying "our honor" Abbas was
referring to the fraternal bonds that linked him to Hamida and he immediately thought of his sister, thrown into prison because of a similar scandal. Erupting in anger and resentment, he roared, "That's no concern of mine, and Hamida can go to hell!"
He was not, however, being entirely honest. Had he come across
the man at that moment, he would have leapt on him like a tiger and buried his claws in him. Abbas, however, was taken in and asked him in a somewhat reproachful tone, "Doesn't it make you angry that a man should make such a vile a**ault upon a woman from our alley? I grant you, Harnida really is a criminal and there's nothing wrong with what the man did in itself, but isn't it, as far as we're concerned,
a humiliating act of aggression that calls for revenge?"
Vehemently, Hussein cried out, "You're a fool! You're not upset over your honor, as you suppose. It is the fires of jealousy that consume your feeble heart and if Hamida had agreed to return to you, you would have run off with her joyfully. How did you find her, you idiot? You argued and complained back and forth? Bravo! Bravo! Hats off to the gallant gentleman! Why didn't you k** her? If it had been me and fate had handed me the woman who'd betrayed me, I'd have strangled her without thinking twice, then cut her lover's throat and made myself scarce. That's what you should have done, you idiot."
A satanic look had taken possession of his swarthy face and he went on furiously, "I'm not saying that to get out of anything. The fact is the man ought to pay dearly for his aggression, and he will, and we'll go together at the agreed time and give him a thorough beating. Then we'll watch all the places where he hangs out•and keep on beat ing him up, even if we have to put together an army of helpers. We won't leave him alone until he buys us off with a large sum of money. That way we can take revenge and get something out of it at the same time."
Abbas was pleased with this unexpected outcome and said enthu
siastically, "Great idea! You're really a good man in a crisis!"
The praise pleased Hussein and he started thinking about how to execute his plan, urged on by his anger over his honor, his natural tendency to violence, and his urgent desire to get his hands on some money. In warning tones, he murmured, ''Sunday isn't far off." They had reached Queen Farida Square, so he stopped and said, "Let's go back to Vita's Bar." The other, however, clung to his arm, saying, "Wouldn't it be better to go to the bar where we'll find him on Sunday so you can find the way back there on your own?"
Hussein hesitated briefly, then went with him as he asked, the two of them increasing their pace. The sun was close to setting and but little of its light remained. The sky was enfolded in that dreamy calm that overtakes it as the forerunners of darkness appear. The street lamps had been lit and the stream of pa**ersby, indifferent as to whether it was night or day, flowed on. The surface of the earth kept up its ceaseless roar, and what with the clanging of the streetcar and the hum of the automobiles, the calls of the street vendors and the bleating of the horns, not to mention the susurration of mankind, it seemed as though in leaving the alley behind them and turning onto this highway they had moved from dream to clamorous wakefulness. Abbas el-Helw relaxed and the uncertainty that had for so long settled over him dissipated; he had discovered his path, thanks to his strong and daring friend. Hamida and all that concerned her he left sus pertded until circumstances as yet unknown should decide her fate, and he could not, or perhaps was too apprehensive to, come to a final conclusion regarding her. It crossed his mind briefly to let his friend in on some of his thoughts, but a quick glance at his dark face caused him to swallow his words and he said nothing. They kept going until they reached the place of the previous day's unforgettable encounter. Nudging his friend, Abbas said, "There's the flower shop where I spoke with her."
Hussein regarded in silence the shop to which Abbas was pointing,
then asked eagerly, "And where's the bar?"
Abbas nodded towafd a nearby door, murmuring, "That's it." They approached slowly, Hussein Kersha looking the place and its surroundings over with his small, sharp eyes while Abbas el-Helw, as they pa**ed in front of it, cast a look inside. His eyes fell on a strange scene, a gasp escaped him, and the muscles of his face went rigid. Then events followed one another too fast for Hussein Kersha to grasp their significance. Abbas beheld Harnida seated in a bizarre position in the midst of a group of soldiers. She was sitting on a chair behind which stood a soldier who was giving her alcohol to drink from a gla** in his hand and she had her legs stretched out and resting on the lap of another sitting opposite her. Around them stood others, drinking and making a racket. The young man blanched and froze where he was. He had forgotten everything he had learned about her trade and the awful truth seemed to take him totally by surprise, the boiling of his blood wiping out any good sense. Now he was aware of no foe other than she, and he threw himself into the bar as though possessed, crying in a voice of thunder, "Hamida!" Alarmed, the girl straightened up on the chair and stared into his face with blazing eyes. For a few seconds, she was too surprised to do anything. Then she recovered her wits, terrified of the scandal with which his stupidity threatened her. In a coarse, vulgar voice that anger turned into a bellow, she shouted at him, "Get out of here this instant! Get out of my face!" Her angry yelling acted on him like fire on oil and he lost his senses completely, the fear and hesitation natural to his character vanishing, while the grief, torment, and despair that he had suffered over the last three days found oudets from the caldron of his soul, and he erupted, yelling, pale, insane. Catching sight of some empty beer botdes on the counter to his left, he picked one up without knowing what he was doing and hurled it at her with all the strength, anger, and despera tion that he could muster and with such sudden speed that none of the soldiers or bar workers could block it. The botde hit her face and copious blood burst from her nose and chin, mixing with the paints and powders and running over her neck and dresS. Her scream blended with the roaring of the excited drunks and the angry mob pounced on him like savage animals, punches, kicks, and botdes flying.
Hussein Kersha stood at the door to the bar watching his friend
tossed to and fro by hands and feet that he could no more fend off than had he been a ball and screaming, with each new blow, "Hussein! Hussein!" However, the young man, who had never in his life been slow to join a fight, remained nailed to the spot, unable to work out how he could force a way to his friend through all those murderous, savage soldiers. In rage and fury, he turned right and left in hopes of finding a sharp instrument or a stick or knife, but remained impotent and helpless, standing where he was as the pa**ersby gathered at the entrance to the har.and watched the batde with frightened eyes and hands that were as good as shackled.