The Saffron Gate (71 page)

^{'It's not been good for him,' he said. 'Still, many children in Morocco . . . in many places. . . He has a roof, and food,' he said. 'I have tried to make life a little better for him.'}

^{I nodded. 'I'm glad he has you. I can't bear to think of him growing up with Manon. And what's so heartbreaking,' I said, tearing away my veil, not caring about Mena's husband at that moment, 'is the thought of what he might carry.'}

^'Carry?'

^{'You know. The disease. Huntington's chorea. I know Manon doesn't care; surely she imagines that by the time he's a man and the disease might manifest, she'll be dead. So why should she care?'}

^{'I don't understand,'Aszulay said.}

^{I stared at him. 'What don't you understand?'}

^{'Manon doesn't appear to have it. So why would Badou?'}

^{'But . . . Etienne. Etienne has it.'}

^{'Yes. He's his half-uncle, but it has to come through a parent. Isn't that true? That's what Manon told me.'}

^{I shook my head. 'Aszulay. You don’t know? Manon never told you that Badou is Etienne's child?'}

^{Aszulay leaned back. 'Manon doesn't know with certainty who the father is.'}

^{I swallowed. 'But she does. She told me it was Etienne when she talked about her relationship with him. Only this afternoon. That Badou was the result.'}

^{Aszulay stood and walked quickly, once, around the courtyard, as if trying to contain anger. Then he came back and sat across from me again. He shook his head, staring at the wall behind me. I knew him well enough to understand he was composing himself. Finally he looked into my face.}

^{'Manon was with Etienne before he went to America, yes. But she was also with two other men at the same time: a Jew from Fez and a Spaniard from Tangier. And Badou was born ten months after Etienne left for America. His father is either the Jew or the Spaniard.'}

^{I heard the soft coo of a pigeon from the high wall behind Aszulay.}

^{'But . . .'}

^{Again Aszulay shook his head. 'Sidonie. Manon says what she thinks will achieve her purpose. She's told you other lies, and still you believe her.'}

^{'Her purpose?'}

^{'Her purpose is to hurt you. From the first day I saw you — and saw how Manon treated you — I knew what she was doing. She was initially jealous of you for the main reason, but I've seen her grow more and more so, because now you have taken not only Badou's attention, but also . . .' He stopped.}

^{'The main reason?' I asked, when he didn't go on. 'What do you mean?'}

^{'She's jealous because she fears that perhaps her brother did love you. Even though she didn't want him once she'd achieved her purpose, she couldn't bear to think of him loving anyone else. She wanted all of his adoration.' He leaned his back against the wall. 'Manon is like this. Surely you see it.'}

^{I watched his mouth as he spoke.}

^{'She cannot bear to be second-rate; she says it's how she was made to feel, always, as she grew up. And so now . . . she must be the most important woman with every man in her life. She does not want a rival, even for her son.' He paused. 'She does not want to share anyone with you. Anyone. You have the evidence.' He leaned forward and took my hand, turning it over and running his thumb over the tiny mark in my palm. 'What she did to you, when she knew I chose to spend time with you. How she harmed you.'}

^{I was still concentrating on the fact that Aszulay had said that Manon was afraid Etienne had loved me.}

^{'He was so weak,' I said, trying not to let hostility come into my voice. 'And if he'd actually loved me, as she suspected, he wouldn't have left the way he did.'}

^{The red cat crept into the courtyard, stopping, staring at something in the bushes, its tail twitching.}

^{'She told Etienne Badou was his so he would give her more money,' I said.}

^{Aszulay nodded. 'That part could be true. She wanted him to provide more for her — in the name of Badou, of course. But I think originally she only meant to play on his conscience, ask him for money as Badou's uncle.'}

^{I thought of her saying that the reason she hadn't aborted the child was as assurance of an easy future.}

^{'But it was when he spoke of you — I was there — of a woman in America, one who carried his child, that she flew into a rage. He said he didn't know what to do; that he couldn't face it. It was then she told him Badou was his. Like you, he believed Manon; it didn't occur to him she would lie about Badou. He didn't know she had been with other men while she was with him; he didn't know Badou's exact date of birth. For him the circumstances and timing were correct. I heard her, and knew what she was doing.'}

^{His voice grew louder, more indignant.}

^{'She didn't want to be second-best. To you again, Sidonie. She didn't want me to care about you, and she knew I did. And then, when she heard you had conceived Etienne's child — I'm certain that it was at that moment, upon hearing of it —her jealousy became so great that she wanted — needed — to outdo you.'}

^{My mouth opened. 'She would allow her jealousy, her insecurity, to create such a monstrous lie?'}

^{'When she told him, I was so angry with her. I opened my mouth to argue, to tell Etienne the truth, that she lied. But it all happened so quickly. Etienne jumped up; he said his goal was to try and stop it, by not passing on the disease to a future generation. And yet now he had done it not once, but twice; he had already created one child — your child, Sidonie — and now he had just discovered he had created a second. Badou. His face was white as he stood, shaking. I grabbed his arm, telling him
no, wait, Etienne,
but he rushed out into the night.'}

^{I could imagine the scene.}

^{'I argued with Manon, and told her she must tell him the truth. But she said he deserved shame, and humiliation. That there wasn't enough shame in the world for Etienne; maybe now he would know how she had felt, betrayed by their father.' He stopped. 'Manon and Etienne are similar, Sidonie, in their thoughts of themselves. This is their common characteristic.'}

^{I knew he was right.}

^{'Nevertheless, I stayed there all night,' he continued, 'waiting for Etienne to return, in spite of Manon's fury at me. I have seen her do many things I disapprove of, but I couldn't let her do this. Although Etienne has limitations, it wasn't fair to make him suffer further. He would suffer enough with his illness. I was going to tell him the truth, that Badou wasn't his.' He gripped his own hands. I saw the corded veins standing on the backs of them. They were hands that could use a shovel with such strength, and could hold a child with such delicacy. 'But he didn't return. He simply didn't come back. He left his clothes, his books, even his glasses. A few weeks later he sent a letter to Manon — the one I first told you about — saying he had had time to think, and would take responsibility for his child. He would come and see him, every few months. He said in this way he would at least make sure the child wanted for nothing.'}

^{I nodded. Manon thought she had won. In this way she could continue asking for anything from Etienne. And he would provide it, out of guilt. We sat in silence, apart from the occasional sound of the dove.}

^{'And so have you told him?.'}

^{Aszulay shook his head. 'When I picked up Badou, before we went to the country, Etienne was there, as I told you. But it wasn't the right time. Badou was present, and Manon hurried us out. And he had said he would stay for some time. I knew I would tell him when we returned from the
bled.
And I went there tonight, to speak of it to him, but he was out, Manon said. But she knows what I wish to do, and will prevent me in any way she can. She's told me I'm not welcome any more; to not come back to Sharia Zitoun.'}

^{Was Etienne really still in Marrakesh? I thought of how he'd left this afternoon, and wondered if he'd run off again, the way he ran to America when he found out the woman he loved was his half-sister. The way he ran back to Morocco when I told him I was pregnant. The way he ran to another city when Manon told him Badou was his. This was how Etienne dealt with what he didn't want to face. By running away.}

^{'All I can do is hope, somehow, to see him again, and tell him the truth. But it will be difficult. Manon will see to that.'}

^{We sat in silence.}

^{'And now, Sidonie?' he asked.}

^'Now?"

^{'What will you do?'}

^{'I . . . there's nothing more for me here. In Marrakesh.' I looked at him, waiting for him to say what I wanted him to say. Needed him to say.
Stay, Sidonie. I want you to stay. Stay and be with me.}

^{He didn't speak for a long time, nor did he look at me. I saw his throat move as he swallowed, and then he said, 'I understand. This is a country so different from what you have known. You need freedom. You would be a prisoner here.'}

^{'A prisoner?'}

^{Finally he looked at me again.}

^{'A woman here . . . it's not the same as America, as Spain. As France. All the countries in the world where a woman like you can do as she wishes. As she pleases.'}

^{I wanted to ask him what he meant by
a woman like you.
I thought of my life in Albany. Had I been free? 'I haven't felt that I've been a prisoner here,' I said. 'Yes, at first it was difficult. I was . . . afraid. But that was partly because I was alone, and came on a mission that perhaps . . . perhaps I wasn't sure about, although I convinced myself that I was. But since I've known . . . since I've been part of Marrakesh, lived here, in the medina, I've still been somewhat unsure of my actions, but not unsure about how I feel. I feel alive. Even my painting is different. It's alive as well, in a way it never was before.'}

^{'But, as you say, the reason you came to Marrakesh no longer matters.'}

^{'Yes. Etienne no longer matters.' I turned from Aszulay's eyes, staring at the tiles on the floor. Didn't he know what I wanted him to say? Hadn't he sought me out, invited me to come to the gardens, to his family in the countryside? Hadn't he shown concern about me when he knew Etienne was in Marrakesh? He'd just said that Manon was jealous because she knew Aszulay cared about me.}

^{Had I completely misread him? But the time we'd spent, in the
bled . . .
the way he looked at me. The way we'd told each other about our fives. The way he had touched my feet. His mouth on mine.}

^{But he wasn't asking me to stay.}

^{Had I been so wrong?}

^{'Maybe . . . maybe I'll just stay to finish the last canvas for the hotel,' I said, forcing myself to look back at him.}

^{He nodded.}

^{I willed him to say something more. But he didn't. He stood, and went towards the gate. I rose, following him, and put my hand on his arm.}