The Hakawati (63 page)

“Mohammad Be
aini didn’t become a close friend of mine, either. But when I graduated from college and Uncle Ma
an put your father and me up in our first apartment, I started a small coop on our balcony. Ali offered me three pairs, a Rashidi, a Turkish, and a Zahr al-Fool. Two days after my coop was up, a young boy knocked on my door with a priceless gift from Mohammad, a pair of gorgeous Yehudis. We hadn’t seen each other since that first day, so I paid him a visit and thanked him.

“I was able to repay him quickly. Pigeons loved me, you see. They bred for me. At one time, I was probably the best pigeon breeder in all of Beirut. My Yehudis were all prize pigeons. I gifted Mohammad with a wonderful pair. I also gave him a stunning pair of speckled Zahr al-Fool. Of course, I gave Ali similar mates. So, you see, Mohammad and Ali did end up having offspring that were family after all. I had become a well-known pigeoneer. By then my father knew, and he wanted me to stop, because he hated pigeons. He considered the profession demeaning. Did you know that a pigeoneer’s testimony isn’t accepted in a court of law? You know why? By law, a pigeoneer’s word can’t be trusted, because he spends his time on roofs and is therefore a Peeping Tom. People are naïve. Of course, that’s why most muezzins are blind. They may be high up, but they can’t see.

“Your father wanted me to quit, too. Fairly or unfairly, society considered pigeoneers contemptible, and he wanted reputable men to respect him. More important, what decent woman would marry him if his brother was a pigeoneer? Your mother certainly wouldn’t have. I had to quit and start a company with him. When it came time for me to give everything up, I sold my pigeons for a tidy sum, the seed for our corporation, but we still needed a lot more money. Both Ali Itani and Kamal Hourani gave me everything they could spare. Neither was
rich, but they held nothing back. They were in their eighties by then. They both passed away before I could repay them. Kamal died first, and of course Ali couldn’t bear it and followed him not ten days later. I can tell you, I spent those ten days with Ali. His grief was unbearable, and death surely rescued him. I repaid my debt to their families.

“But since I was desperate, I had also asked Mohammad Be
aini, and he didn’t hesitate, either. It turned out he was wealthier than anyone I knew. He ended up being the biggest contributor of the army of angels.”

I was lucky that I was sober when my mother called. She asked about school. How was I doing with finals? Was everything going as well as it should? Yet I could hear the anxiety in her voice. “Listen,” she said, “I wanted to tell you this before you heard it from someone else. Your sister’s getting married next week. It’s not going to be a big wedding, just the family and close friends. We’re not making a big deal out of it.”

I watched my hand clench the phone. My mouth felt dry and cottony. My head hurt. “What do you mean?” I asked.

“What do you mean what do I mean? Wedding, marriage, your sister.”

“Who’s she marrying?”

“Elie, of course. The wedding’s next week. They’re in love. They’re happy. They’re getting married.”

“I don’t understand. Why does she want to marry him? Why so quickly?”

I heard her sigh on the other end. “Listen, darling,” she said, “you have to be an adult now. You don’t need to have everything explained. Think about it.” She paused for an instant. “Why would there be a wedding so soon after Jihad passed away? It’s not a shotgun wedding, but an AK-47 one.” She paused again. “Why would I allow her to marry that fucking bastard with half a brain?” Another pause, a long breath, quieter. “Now, darling, don’t ask me any more questions. I’m just telling you that Lina is getting married and then I’m going to kill her.”

She hung up without saying goodbye. I figured there were many reasons for her to be angry in this situation, but, knowing her, the fact that she was going to be a grandmother at her age might top the list.

I decided I would leave for Lebanon on the Saturday after finals. I
could get a plane to New York, then Rome, then Beirut, and arrive just in time. Civil war or not. It had been calm for about six days. I could go to the wedding, spend some time with the family, and return before classes began again. The wedding would be in the mountains. Nothing was happening there. There had been no bombs, no shootings, at least for the last little while.

Thirteen

O
ne day, a messenger entered the diwan carrying a letter from the mayor of Alexandria: “A majestic galleon waving the flag of peace entered our port and dropped anchor. A nobleman emerged and announced that he is the vizier of the king of Genoa and brings a letter to the sultan of Islam and bears many gifts for Your Majesty. He wishes an audience at the diwan.” King Saleh dispatched a reply asking the mayor to allow the vizier entry. The vizier of Genoa sailed the Nile and sought the diwan upon arrival in Cairo. He genuflected before the king and offered a letter from his liege. King Saleh asked his judge, Arbusto, to read the letter, which stated that the king of Genoa had made a vow when his daughter, Maria, was sick. He had promised God that if He healed his daughter he would send her on a pilgrimage to Holy Jerusalem. Now his daughter was well again, and the monarch wished to fulfill his vow. He begged permission for Maria’s pilgrimage, and asked King Saleh to ensure her safety by assigning loyal and courageous soldiers to protect her. The king of Genoa would pay the guards five thousand dinars.

The customs of protection were under the jurisdiction of the chief of forts and battlements, Ma
rouf ben Jamr, and so King Saleh commanded Prince Baybars to carry a letter asking the chief of forts to assume responsibility for the princess’s protection.

Prince Baybars traveled to the Fort of Marqab and was greeted effusively by Ma
rouf. After Ma
rouf read the letter, he kissed it and touched his forehead. “For you, my loyal friend, and for the sultan, I will protect the princess myself. I do not require payment. Distribute the money among the needy, among the widows and orphans.”