Naguib Mahfouz - Palace Walk

While his mind wandered, his glance roamed about, until his eyes fell on the mirror of the wardrobe that stood opposite him. He could see reflected in it the bed with his mother’s body stretched out under the blanket and he saw himself, almost blocking from view the upper half of his mother except for her hand, which she had removed from the covers when she welcomed him. He gazed at it affectionately and placed it under the covers, which he arranged carefully around her neck. Then he looked back at the mirror. It occurred to him that this mirror might reflect the image of an empty bed by the next day. Her life, in fact anyone’s life, was no more permanent than these visions in the mirror. He felt even more afraid and whispered to himself, "I've got to limit my pains… I've got to go". Leaving the mirror, his eyes moved around until they fell upon a table with a water pipe on it. The flexible tube was wound around the neck of the pipe like a snake. He looked at it with astonishment and disbelief, at once replaced by a raging feeling of disgust and anger. That man!.. No doubt he was the owner of this pipe. He imagined the man sitting cross-legged on the-sofa between the bed and the table, slumped over the pipe, inhaling and exhaling with pleasure as Yasin’s mother fanned its coals for him. Oh… where was he? Somewhere in the house or outside?… Had the man seen him from some concealed spot? He could not bear to stay any longer with the water pipe. He cast a final look at his mother and found her fast asleep. He gently got up and went to the door. Seeing the servant in the outer hall, he told her, "Your mistress has fallen asleep. I'll return tomorrow morning".

At the door of the apartment he turned to say once more, "Tomorrow morning". He seemed to want to warn the man about the time so he could keep out of sight.

He headed straight for Costaki’s bar. He drank as usual, but it did not cheer him up. He was unable to dispel the fear and anxiety from his heart. Although dreams of his mother’s fortune and the comfort it would provide him did not leave his mind, he was unable to erase from his memory the image of sickness and ideas of annihilation.

When he got home at midnight he found his stepmother waiting for him on the first floor. He looked at her in surprise. Then with his heart pounding he asked, "My mother?"

Amina hid her face and said in a soft voice, "A messenger from Palace of Desire Alley came an hour before you returned. Have a long life, son".

Kamal’s association with the British developed into a mutual friendship. Citing Yasin’s misadventure in the mosque of al-Husayn, the family attempted to persuade the boy to sever his relations with these friends, but he protested that he was young, too young to be accused of spying. To keep them from stopping him, he went directly to the encampment when he got back from school, leaving his book bag with Umm Hanafi. There was no way to prevent him except by force, which they did not think appropriate, especially since he was having such a good time in the camp, directly under their eyes, and was welcomed and treated generously wherever he went. Even Fahmy showed forbearance and amused himself by watching Kamal move among the soldiers like a "monkey playing in the jungle".

"Tell al-Sayyid Ahmad," Umm Hanafi suggested once when complaining that the soldiers were fresh with her because of the accursed friendship and that some of them had mimicked the way she walked. For that reason, they deserved "to have their heads cut off". No one took her suggestion seriously, not merely out of consideration for the boy but to spare themselves too, fearing an investigation would reveal that they had concealed this friendship for a long time. They let the boy and his concerns alone. They may also have hoped that the reciprocal good feelings between the boy and the soldiers would protect the rest of them from interference or injury they might otherwise expect from the soldiers when members of the family came and went.

The happiest times of Kamal’s day were those inside the encampment. Not all the soldiers were his friends in the ordinary sense of the word, but they all knew him. He would shake hands with his special friends, pressing their hands warmly, but limit himself to a salute for the others. When his arrival coincided with the sentry duty of one of his friends, the boy ran up to him cheerfully and happily, putting out his hand, only to be shocked to find that the soldier remained curiously and disturbingly rigid, as though snubbing Kamal or as though he had turned into a statue. The boy only realized this was not the case when the others burst out laughing.

It was not unusual for the alarm siren to sound suddenly when he was with his friends. They would rush to their tents, returning shortly in their uniforms and helmets and carrying their rifles. A truck would be brought out from behind the cistern building. The soldiers would quickly jump into it, until it was packed full. He would realize from the scene in front of him that a demonstration had broken out somewhere and that the soldiers were going to break it up. Fighting would certainly flare up between them and the demonstrators. The only thing that concerned him at these times was to keep sight of his friends until he saw them packed into the truck. He would gaze at them, as though bidding them farewell. When they headed off for al-Nahhasin, he would spread out his hands to pray for their safety and to recite the opening sura of the Qur'an.

He only spent half an hour each afternoon at the camp. That was the longest he could absent himself from home when he got back from school. During that half hour, all his senses were on the alert every minute. He prowled around the tents and trucks, which he inspected piece by piece. Standing in front of the pyramids of rifles, he examined them in detail, especially the barrel muzzles where death lurked. He was not permitted to get too close to them and suffered terribly because he wanted to play with them or at least touch them.

If his visit coincided with teatime, he went with his friends to the field kitchen set up at the entrance to Qirmiz Alley and took his place at the end of the "tea queue," as they called it. Then he would return behind them with a cup of tea and milk and a piece of chocolate. They would sit on the wall of the fountain to drink their tea. The soldiers all sang while he listened with interest, waiting for his turn to perform.

The life of the camp made a deep impression on him, giving an all-encompassing vividness to his flights of imagination and dreams that were engraved in his heart alongside Amina’s legends and accounts of the world of mysteries and Yasin’s stories and their magical universe, to which Kamal added the phantoms and visions of his daydreams about the lives of ants, sparrows, and chickens, which occupied his mind when he was on the roof surrounded by sprigs of jasmine, hyacinth beans, and pots of flowers. From this inspiration, he created a military encampment, completely equipped and staffed, next to the wall separating their roof from Maryam's. He erected tents of handkerchiefs and pencils. The weapons were twigs, the vehicles wooden clogs, and the soldiers date pits. Near the army camp he had demonstrators, represented by pebbles. He usually began the performance by distributing the pits in groups, some in the tents or by the entrances, others around the rifles. To one side there were four pits surrounding a pebble that stood for himself.

First he imitated the English style of singing. Then it was time for the pebble to sing "Visit me once each year" or "O Darling". He would move over to the pebbles and arrange them in rows as he shouted, "Long live the Nation… Down with the Protectorate… Long live Sa'd". Returning to the camp and giving a warning whistle, he organized the pits in columns, putting a date at the head of each one. He moved a clog as he huffed to imitate the truck’s drone. After putting pits on the clog he shoved it toward the pebbles. The battle would break out, and many victims would fall on both sides. He did not allow his personal feelings to influence the course of the battle, at least not at the beginning or even midway through it. His single dominant desire was to make the battle authentic and thrilling. Both sides would struggle, pushing and pulling to try to maintain an equal number of casualties. The outcome would remain in doubt as the advantage passed back and forth, but eventually the battle would have to end. Then Kamal would find himself in an awkward position. Which side should win? His four friends, headed by Julian, were on one side, but on the other side were the Egyptian demonstrators with whom Fahmy was deeply involved emotionally. In the final moment the victory would be accorded to the demonstrators. The truck would withdraw with the few remaining soldiers, including his four friends. One time the battle ended with an honorable armistice, which warriors from both sides celebrated in song at a table set with teacups and different types of sweets.