Naguib Mahfouz - Palace of Desire

"The weather's still rather warm and humid…". Her voice sounded calm and natural and showed her desire to banish the silence.

He said with relief, "Yes, it certainly is."

He was reassured but in his imagination could still see the vision he had had of her at the window. Against his better judgment, he found himself mulling it over with fascination. He wished he had stumbled across something like that on one of his romantic excursions. If only Maryam had a body like her mother's! Was it not for something like this that the Qur'an said, "Let those who have aspirations compete"? (83:26.)

She assumed that his silence indicated he was brooding over her comment about his disagreement with his stepmother and almost playfully advised him, "Don't trouble your mind about it. There's nothing in the world worth worrying about". Then she waved her hands and head, making her body quiver in a special way, as though she wished to encourage him to spurn his cares.

He smiled obediently and murmured, "That's true."

All the same, he was doing his best to gain control of himself. Yes, something momentous had happened. Although it appeared to be nothing but a movement of her body meant to express her disdain for trivial worries and to encourage him to feel the same v/ay, it was extremely significant, for it was clear evidence of wanton and licentious flirting. This gesture had escaped in a moment of forgetfulness. It interrupted the modest decorum she had observed with him throughout their interview and unintentionally disclosed her true nature. Or was it intentional? He could not decide between the two, but he no longer doubted that he was in the presence of a woman truly worthy of being the mother of a daughter with a past like Maryam's. Nothing could make him change his mind, for this flirtatious, dancing motion was not one a well-behaved woman would ever exhibit. His alarm lasted only for a fleeting moment and was quickly replaced by a sensation of sly and sensuous joy. He began to recall where and when he had seen this gesture before... Zanuba?… Jalila, the night she surprised his father by storming into the men's reception room at the Shawkat residence during Aisha's wedding. Yes, that was it!

It occurred to him that despite her age the mother might be more desirable and delightful than Maryam. Submitting to his natural drives, he told himself that he should test her out and if possible not hold anything back. He felt like laughing at the novelty of the idea. He would be traveling a rugged path he had never taken before, but he had never been one to restrain his passions. Where would this conduct lead him? Would it be possible to give Maryam up for her mother? Certainly not! He had no intention of doing that. But imagine a dog that finds a bone on its way to the kitchen. Would it be ashamed to take the bone? In any case, these were all just thoughts, flights of imagination, and hypotheses. Let him wait and see. They smiled at each other in the silence that once more had come between them. Her smile was apparently that of a host greeting a guest, but his was flavored with whispers of suffocating lust.

"You've brought light to our home, Yasin Effendi."

"Madam, there's no shortage of light in your home. You illuminate the town and everything in it."

She laughed and threw her head back as she said softly, "May God be good to you, Yasin Effendi."

He should have returned to the conversation about his proposal or asked permission to leave, naming a date when they could continue their discussion, but he began to cast peculiar glances at her, some long and some short, without cease. The silence was frightening. His looks conveyed messages that no one with eyes could miss. He had to convey all his thoughts to her through these looks alone to discover her reaction.

"Look before you leap, and down with High Commissioner Allenby. Let her receive my fiery glance and tell me, if she's sincere, what madman could ignore her naughty intentions and assert her innocence. See how she raises and lowers her eyes absentmindedly but at the same time with a suspicious clarity of understanding. You can now say that the floodwaters have reached Aswan and that the sluice gate must be opened. While you're asking for her daughter's hand? After today anyone who doesn't believe in insanity must be insane. At present I desire you more than anything else. 'Apres moi le deluge.' The way you look certainly does nothing to discourage my hopes."

"Do you live alone in the Palace of Desire?"

"Yes.'"

"My heart goes out to you."

It was a phrase that either a devil or an angel might have uttered. Was Maryam listening behind the door?

"You've experienced lonelinesshere in your house. It's unbearable."

"Truly unbearable!"

She suddenly put her hand up to her scarf and jerked it from her head and neck, saying apologetically, "Excuse me. It's hot."

Her head in its orange kerchief and her spotless neck could now be seen. He gazed at her neck for some time with increasing anxiety. Then he looked at the door as though to ask who might be lurking behind it. God help the suitor who came asking for the hand of the daughter and fell into the clutches of the mother.

In response to her apology he said, "Make yourself comfortable. You're in your own house. There's no stranger present."

"I wish Maryam were home so I could break the good news to her."

His heart pounded as if directing him to attack. He asked, "Where is she?"

"With friends in al-Darb al-Ahmar."

"Farewell, reason!" he thought. "Your daughter's fiance wants you and you want him. May God be merciful to anyone who thinks well of women. This woman must not have any sense. She's been our neighbor all my life, and I'm only finding out who she is today… a madwoman … a fifty-year-old adolescent."

"When will Miss Maryam return?"

"Late in the afternoon…."

Wickedly he said, "I feel my visit's lasted too long."

"It's not a long visit, for you're at home."

With equal naughtinesshe inquired, "I wonder whether I may hope you'll return my call."

She smiled broadly as though to tell him, "I understand what's behind this invitation". Then she bowed her head with embarrassment, although the theatrics of her gesture did not escape him.

He did not concern himself with that but started to describe the location of his house and of his apartment within that building.

Her head bowed, she smiled silently. Was she not conscious of wronging and injuring her daughter in the clearest possible way?

"When will you honor me with a visit?"

She mumbled as she raised her head, "I don't know what to say."

Confidently and firmly he said, "I'll answer on your behalf. Tomorrow evening. You'll find me waiting for you."

"There are matters we must take into account."

"We'll deal with all of them… at my house."

He rose at once and started to go toward her, but she gestured for him to keep his distance and looked toward the door to caution him.

"Tomorrow evening," she said, as though her only goal was to avert his attack.

The house in Palace of Desire Alley came to know Bahija as a persistent visitor. Once darkness spread its veil, the lady draped herself in her wrap and proceeded to al-Gamaliya, heading for the home that had once belonged to Yasin's mother, Haniya. There she found Yasin waiting for her in the only furnished room of the apartment. They never referred to Maryam, except once when Bahija said, "I wasn't able to keep the news of your visit from Maryam, because our maid knows you. But I told her you had mentioned your interest in asking for her hand once the obstacles blocking your way in the family circle were overcome."

He was too astonished by her remark to care to comment and merely expressed his agreement and approval. Together they embarked on a life of sensual gratification. Yasin found the custodian of the treasured rump submissive to his every whim, and he himself was as free from inhibitions as a wild stallion. The hastily and frugally furnished room was not an ideal location for an affair, but Yasin went out of his way to create an attractive atmosphere by providing an ample supply of food and drinks so that their trysts would go well. He assaulted her repeatedly with an appetite that knew no limit or moderation.