Speak Bird Speak Again (35 page)

BOOK: Speak Bird Speak Again
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"All
fight," he agreed, and baked her a doll which she wrapped and
brought home without her husband seeing her. Then people said, "The
sultan's wife is in labor, she's ready to deliver." The old
woman came forth. "Back in my country, I'm a midwife," she
said. "She got pregnant as a result of my efforts, and I should
be the one to deliver her. I don't want anyone but me to be around."

"Fine,"
people agreed. In a while, word went out: "She gave birth! She
gave birth!"

"And
what did she give birth to?"

"She
gave birth to a boy."

Wrapping
the doll up, the wife placed it in the crib. People were saying, "She
gave birth to a boy!" They went up to the sultan and said she

had
given birth to a boy. The crier made his rounds, announcing to the
townspeople that it was forbidden to eat or drink except at the
sultan's house for the next week.

Now,
the old woman made it known that no one was permitted to see the baby
until seven days had passed. On the seventh day it was announced that
the sultans wife and the baby were going to the public baths.
Meanwhile, every day the wife asked the old woman, "What am I
going to do, grandmother? What if my husband should find out?"
And the old woman would reply, "Rest easy, my dear! The
evening's coals are the morning's ashes."

On the
seventh day the baths were reserved for the sultan's wife. Taking
fresh clothes with them, the women went, accompanied by a servant.
The sultan's wife went into the bath, and the women set the servant
in front of the doll, saying to her, "Take care of the boy!
Watch out that some dog doesn't stray in and snatch him away!"

In a
while the servant's attention wandered, and a dog came, grabbed the
doll, and ran away with it. After him ran the servant, shouting,
"Shame on you! Leave the son of my master alone!" But the
dog just kept running, munching on the doll.

It is
said that there was a man in that city who was suffering from extreme
depression. He had been that way for seven years, and no one could
cure him. Now, the moment he saw a dog running with a servant fast
behind him shouting, "Leave the son of my master alone!" he
started to laugh. And he laughed and laughed till his heartsickness
melted away and he was well again. Rushing out, he asked her, "What's
your story? I see you running behind a dog who has snatched away a
doll, and you're shouting at him to leave the son of your master
alone. What's going on?"

"Such
and such is the story," she answered.

This
man had a sister who had just given birth to twin boys seven days
before. Sending for her, he said, "Sister, won't you put one of
your boys at my disposal?"

"Yes,"
she said, giving him one of her babies.

The
sultans wife took him and went home. People came to congratulate her.
How happy she was!

After
some time the old woman said, "You know, grandchildren, I think
my dough must have risen, and I want to go home and bake the bread."

"Why
don't you stay?" they begged her. "You brought blessings
with you." I don't know what else they said, but she answered,
"No. The land is longing for its people. I want to go home."

They
put her on a boat, filling it with gifts, and said, "Go in
Allah's safekeeping!"

When
she came home, she put her gifts away and rested for a day or two.
Then she checked her dough. "Yee, by Allah!" she exclaimed.
"My dough hasn't risen yet. I'm going to the seashore for a good
time." At the shore she sat for a while, and lo! there was a
boat.

"Where
are you going, uncle?"

"By
Allah, we're going to Aleppo," they answered.

"Take
me with you."

"Leave
me alone, old woman. The boat's full and there's no room."

"If
you don't take me with you, may your boat get stuck and sink in the
sea!"

They
set out, but in a while the boat was about to sink. They returned and
called the old lady over, taking her with them. Being a stranger,
where was she to go? She sat down by a wall, with people coming and
going until late in the evening. After everybody had gone home for
the night, a man passed by.

"What
are you doing here?"

"By
Allah, I'm a stranger in town. I don't know anyone, and here I am,
sitting by this wall."

"Is
it right you should be sitting here in the street? Come, get up and
go home with me."

Getting
up, she went with him. Again, there was only he and his wife. They
had no children or anybody else. They ate and enjoyed themselves, and
everything was fine, but when time came for sleep he fetched a bundle
of sticks and beat his wife until he had broken the sticks on her
sides. The second day the same thing happened. On the third day the
old woman said, "By Allah, I want to find out why this man beats
his wife like this." She asked her, and the wife replied, "By
Allah, there's nothing the matter with me, except that once my
husband brought home a bunch of black grapes. I put them on a
bone-white platter and brought them in. 'Yee!' I said, 'How beautiful
is the black on the white!' Then he sprang up and said, 'So! May
so-and-so of yours be damned! You've been keeping a black slave for a
lover behind my back!' I protested that I had only meant the grapes,
but he wouldn't believe me. Every day he brings a bundle of sticks
and beats me."

"I'll
save you," said the old woman. "Go buy some black grapes
and put them on a bone-white platter."

In the
evening, after he had had his dinner, the wife brought the grapes and
served them. The old woman then jumped in and said, "Yee! You
see, son. By Allah, there's nothing more beautiful than the black on
the white!"

"So!"
he exclaimed, shaking his head. "It's not only my wife who says
this! You're an old lady and say the same thing. It turns out my wife
hasn't done anything, and I've been treating her like this!"

"Don't
tell me you've been beating her just for that!" exclaimed the
old woman. "What! Have you lost your mind? Look here! Don't you
see how beautiful are these black grapes on this white plate?"

It is
said they became good friends, and the husband stopped beating his
wife. Having stayed with them a few more months, the old woman said,
"The land has been longing for its people. Maybe my dough has
risen by now. I want to go home."

"Stay,
old lady!" they said. "You brought us blessings."

"No,"
she answered. "I want to go home."

They
prepared a boat for her and filled it with food and other provisions.
She gathered herself together and went home. There, in her own house,
after she had sat down, rested, and put her things away, she checked
the dough. "By Allah," she said, "it has just begun to
rise, and I might as well take it to the baker," She took it to
the baker, who baked her bread.

This
is my. tale, I've told it, and in your hands I leave it.

25.

The Golden Rod in
the Valley of Vermilion

Once,
long ago, there was a merchant. An important merchant. Every Friday
the wives of the other merchants came to visit his wife, and they
would go out to take the air, enjoying themselves at the public baths
and then returning home. Days went and nights came. One day the wives
of the merchants came calling on her, and she went out with them. One
of them happened to be wearing a beautiful black velvet dress, and
the wife of the big merchant liked it very much. Home she went, and
how angry she was! Who was that wearing such a dress but the wife of
a merchant lesser than her husband, while she herself didn't have
one? When her husband came home, he found her scowling.

"What's
the matter, dear wife?"

"How
could it be that the wife of Merchant So-and-So should wear a dress
like that while I go without?"

"Well,"
he answered, "is it such a big matter?"

He
went and cut for her a piece of cloth from the same material, and she
had it made into a dress and wore it. She stood in front of the
mirror. Now, she was a good-looking woman with fair skin, and the
dress was black. She thought she was very beautiful. What did she
say?

"Oh!
How beautiful is the black on the white? she exclaimed.

"What?
said her husband. "You so and so! You've taken the black slave
for a lover behind my back!"

"No,
husband, no!" she answered. "I only meant my black dress."
"

I
don't believe you. You're in love with the black man."

O
black, O white! she tried to reason with him, but it was no use.
Taking hold of her, he started beating her. Then he tied her up by
her hair to a hook hanging from the ceiling, and every day after that
he would bring a bundle of sticks, beat her until he had broken them
all on her sides, and then hang her back up.

On
Friday, at the appointed hour, the wives of the merchants came to
visit her. Entering, they called to her, and her servant came out to
receive them. "She's bathing," said the servant. "Wait
awhile." Later she said, "She's getting dressed, she's
putting on makeup, she's decorating her eyelids with kohl" - and
so on.

"But
the day's nearly gone!" they murmured. "Let's go in and see
what's going on." Her servant started to cry, but she let them
in, and behold! their friend was hanging from the ceiling. Untying
her, they sat her down. "What happened?" they asked.
"What's the story?"

"Such
and such is what happened," she said, relating her story.

Now,
every day, while her husband was beating her, he would ask, "Is
there anyone richer than me?"

"No."

"Is
there anyone handsomer than me?"

"No."

"Is
there anyone more manly than me?"

"No."

Whatever
he asked, she always answered, "No." When she told her
friends that her husband asked her these questions every day, one of
them - a sly one - said, "Why don't you say to him, Yes, there
is,' and if he asks who, tell him, 'The Golden Rod in the Valley of
Vermilion.' He'll go looking and will be away a month or two.
Meanwhile, you'll take a rest from all this beating until he comes
back. And when he does come back, Allah will take care of it."
Tying her up again, they left.

When
he came home in the evening, he set about beating her.

"Is
there anyone richer than me? More handsome than me?"

"Yes,
there is."

"Who?"

"The
Golden Rod in the Valley of Vermilion."

"By
Allah," he swore, leaving her untied, "I'm going to have to
go look for him. If I really do find him, then Allah will have
forgiven you; but if I don't find him richer, handsomer, and more
manly than me, may the Lord help you!"

Leaving
her, he turned around and headed straight out. He traveled the first
day, the second, and the third. Then on his way he was surprised to
see a creature on the road. She was half bitch and half human. He
asked her about the Golden Rod and she said, "Straight ahead!"
Moving on, he met another creature, half fish and half human. He
asked her, and she too said, "Straight ahead!" He went on
until he reached a city, where he asked and people gave him
directions. When he had got the directions, he went to the Golden
Rod's house.

"Welcome!
Welcome!" the Golden Rod received the merchant. "So, you've
finally come!"

"Yes,
I've come."

"You've
accused your wife falsely," he said. "Your wife didn't do
anything wrong. She did in fact have her dress in mind, but you
accused her of [loving] the black slave and have come here to see if
there's anyone richer, handsomer, or more manly than you. Isn't it
so? Well, listen and let me tell you my story."

"Tell
it to me," said the merchant.

"Allah
knows," began the Golden Rod, "I too was once a married
man. The first wife I had was my cousin. She used to bring me a cup
every evening, and after I drank it I would roll over, not feeling a
thing. 'By Allah,' I said to myself one day, 'this cup she gives me -
I'm going to dump it down my collar and turn over as if drunk, then
I'll see what she's up to.'

"She
brought me the cup, and I did like this, spilling it down my neck,
then I rolled over. No sooner did she see me in that condition than
she went straight to the kitchen, ladled food onto a platter, and
carried it, along with a pitcher full of water and a lantern, out of
the house.

"I
followed her, keeping well behind. By Allah, I followed her, and she
kept moving till she reached a cave. She went into the cave, and lo!
there was a black slave. No sooner did she go in than he set to
abusing her. 'Damn your father and your mother!' he cursed. 'You've
taken so long, I'm nearly dying from hunger.'

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