Speak Bird, Speak Again Part 20

"She mourned a year, and when she was out of mourning she did the same as the others had done, going to the baths and coming back to put on her best and make herself up. When she found the lock of hair among the toilet articles, she sprang up. She wanted to tear me into pieces. 'Stop where you are,' I commanded, 'and turn into a cat!' And here she is! You see her always sitting in my lap. And your poor wife - what wrong did she do? Her mind was only on the dress. As for me, I'm not going to marry another one. It's all over."

When the Golden Rod had finished his story, the merchant regretted how he had treated his wife. He was now anxious to go home and was about to excuse himself and leave, when his host said, "Wait a moment. I'm going to give you a present for your wife. She's a good woman and worthy of respect, and her mind was only on her dress."

The merchant went home very happy. He was now eager to please his wife. As soon as he reached his town, he went to his house. "Dear wife," he said, "I did you wrong. By Allah, he's richer and better than me in all respects. And here, he's sent you a present with me." Pulling out the present, he gave it to her, then went and sat down some distance away from her. She opened the package to see what kind of present it was and found a mirror in it. No sooner did she look in the mirror than she disappeared. The Golden Rod had s.n.a.t.c.hed her away and married her.

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

Minjal

Once upon a time there was a woman. She had for a neighbor a charming rogue who knew how to enjoy life. "By Allah," said he one day, "I'm going to play a trick on her and take away one of the family's yoke of oxen." Waiting until the husband had gone to the fields to plow (they had another team of oxen which he did not take with him) the neighbor disguised himself and called out, "Ho! I have names for sale! Who wants a beautiful name? I sell names!" The woman was baking bread outdoors in her clay oven. "Hey, uncle!" she cried out, "Come, come! Let me see! What are you selling?"

"I sell names," he answered. "What's your name, uncle? Let me see if it's beautiful or not."

"By Allah," she replied, "my name's Minjal."

"What!" exclaimed the salesman. "What's this Minjal? Is that a name fit for a woman? Why, that's nothing more than a piece of iron. Are you crazy enough to accept a name like that?"

"Very well, uncle," declared the woman. "Come, sell me a name. How much does one cost?"

"By Allah, cousin," he replied, "a beautiful name - I'll sell it to you for a yoke of oxen."

"Fine," she agreed. "Come, let me see what kind of a name you're going to sell me."

"By Allah," he said. "I'm going to call you, 'Mistress of All and Flower of the House.' Go in and take a bath. Then wear some nice clothes, pile up whatever mattresses you have, and make a bridal seat for yourself. Lock the door and sit on the mattresses. If your husband should come to the door, calling, 'Hey, Minjal! Hey, Minjal!' don't pay him any attention, even if he stands out there all day. Not until he calls you, 'Mistress of All and Flower of the House.'"

"Fine, uncle," she said. "May Allah reward you! What do you want for payment?"

"I want that team of oxen."

"Go ahead and untie it," she agreed.

The salesman went ahead, untied the oxen, and took them. The woman then went in, combed her hair, put on her best clothes, and if they had a couple of old mattresses she piled them up and sat on them like a bride. Locking the door from the inside with the key, she sat waiting on the bridal seat.

It was raining, and her husband was plowing. It had rained on him and on the team. Poor man! He came home from the field dripping with water. Knocking on the door, he called out, "Minjal! Minjal!" No answer. He pounded on the door and banged against it shouting, "O Minjal! O Minjal!" until he was exhausted. Meanwhile, his wife was sitting inside, feeling frustrated.

"You can say 'Minjal' till you rot!" she finally said. "I've bought a new name."

"Who did you buy it from?"

"From a traveling salesman."

"And how much did he sell it to you for?"

"I paid with the team of oxen."

"What is this name that you've bought?" he asked.

"My name is now Mistress of All and Flower of the House," she answered.

"By Allah, O Mistress of All and Flower of the House," he swore, "I don't even want to go into the house you're in. If I find others as crazy as you, I'll be back. But if I can't find anyone so crazy, I'm not coming back. You can keep your name, and you can keep the house." Leaving the team in the lower part of the house, the man then turned and left.

It was pouring rain. He went, you might say, to the cemetery of the Christians and took shelter by the side of a big rock. Taking off his clothes, he sat under this rock by the cemetery of the Christians. In the morning some Christian women came to visit. One like Hanne - her children died in their youth; another, like Badia - her brother died a young man. This one had lost a son, that one a daughter, and another a father or a mother. Anyway, they came to visit the graves and found this naked man.

"Brrr! he s.h.i.+vered. "Allah protect you, sisters! Please give me something to cover my nakedness."

"What sort of creature are you, uncle?" they asked.

"I came back from the grave," he answered, "and I'm bringing good news. The dwellers of these graves are all going to be coming back home, and they're all naked. Go bring some clothes, and tomorrow you'll find your loved ones here. They're all going to be coming back."

"By Allah, is it true what you're saying, uncle?"

"Yes, it's true."

The women went running back to their houses. She who had lost a daughter brought her her jewelry, and she who had lost a young son brought him his suits. Oh! What clothes they were! Each one had prepared a bundle. You should have seen what these Christian women brought together - the bundles and the jewelry! They went and gave it all to the man in the cemetery.

"When will the dead be coming back, uncle?" they asked.

"Come back tomorrow at this time," he answered, "and you'll find them dressed and waiting for you. But take care not to talk in front of anyone about this! Come by yourselves, because only the Christians will be coming back."

After the women had gone home, he took the bundles, tied them together, and ran away. The next morning the Christian women came back to the graveyard - nothing had changed. "Yee!" they cried out, "By Allah, that man must have tricked us." Back home they rushed and told their men what had happened. He who had a donkey Or a nag mounted it and set out. Sibli, Xalil, Salih - whoever had lost a bundle of clothes mounted his animal and set out to search for the man. Meanwhile, he had found a place, a cave, where he deposited the big bundle and left. As they were searching, they came by him.

"O uncle," they asked, "didn't you happen to see a man with such and such a description carrying some bundles?"

"Yes, uncles," he answered, "he just pa.s.sed this way. But on your animals, you can't follow him since it's so muddy. Better take off your shoes and leave your animals here. You'll catch up with him in a moment."

"Is that true, uncle?" they asked.

"Yes, it's true."

Dropping their shoes from their feet, they left the animals behind. "Leave them with me," he rea.s.sured them. "I'll take care of them." But no sooner did they turn their backs than he gathered the shoes and sandals, tied the animals together, and, dragging them behind him, set off. The men ran and ran till they were tired. They could barely breathe, but, not finding anyone, they came back. And see! Where was he? He was already far away. Pulling themselves together, they went home.

The man, you might say, left his town behind and traveled until he came to a village like Il-Izer, Rummane, and Id-Der, where the farmland is below the village. As he approached he saw a farmer plowing. Waiting until he was even with him, he said out loud, talking to the nag he was riding, "Easy! Easy! May Allah d.a.m.n your owner's father! If someone were to offer me a meal, even if it's nothing more than lentil soup, I'd give you to him in exchange."

When the farmer heard this, he cried, "O uncle, what did I just hear you say?"

"By Allah," answered the other, "I was just saying that if anyone were to offer me a meal of lentil soup I'd give him this horse in exchange."

"Wait, wait, uncle!" shouted the farmer, "I'll bring you something in a moment."

Off he went, running to his wife. "Come, come!" he said, "Right away, boil some water and make a little lentil soup."

"What's the story, my man?" she asked.

"You won't believe this," he replied, "but we're getting a draft horse for a dish of lentil soup."

She went ahead, ground some lentils, and placed the water over the fire.

"Prepare a feeding trough, woman," he said. "Plant a stake here, and tie one end of a rope to it and the other end to my foot, and let me check if there's enough room for people to pa.s.s behind the horse without getting kicked."

When she had prepared the trough, driven in the stake, and tied the rope to his foot, he said, "Pa.s.s behind me, wife, and let me see if the nag could reach you if you pa.s.sed behind her and she kicked." Turning around, she walked behind him. He kicked, throwing her down. And lo! blood all over and she had miscarried. "Die and to h.e.l.l with you! Right now I want to go after the blue nag, which is more valuable to me than anything. And when I come back, I'll deal with the situation here."

Meanwhile, by the time they had prepared the feeding trough and the soup and had tested how she would pa.s.s behind the horse - by that time the other man had untied the farmer's yoked team and (begging the listeners' pardon!), having c.r.a.pped on the tip of the ox goad, stuck it in the ground and made off with the animals. Coming back down, our brother in Allah did not find the horse, his own team, or anything else. And when he saw the goad, he said, "By Allah, this man has tricked me. And even if my wife has miscarried, what bothers me most, by Allah, is how he could have managed to climb up the goad and s.h.i.+t. How could he have done it? How could he possibly have sat on the tip of the goad and shat?"

Having collected the Christian women's clothes, the horses, and the draft animals, the man came back home, only to find his wife still sitting like a new bride on the piled-up mattresses. "O Mistress of All and Flower of the House!" he cried out. "By Allah, many other crazy people like you have I found." And he lived with her, accepting her with her faults.

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

ImEse

TELLER: Testify that G.o.d is One!

AUDIENCE: There is no G.o.d but G.o.d.

Once there was a man, and he had a daughter. He and his wife had no other children except this daughter, and her name was Ese. One day people from another town came to ask for Ese's hand. They asked for her hand, took her for a bride, and departed.

The days pa.s.sed. Ese became pregnant and gave birth; she had a boy.

"Abu Ese!" said the mother.

"Yes. What do you want?" he replied.

"Our daughter has given birth to a boy," she answered, "and we ought to go visit her. What are we going to take her?"

They took her a bolt of cloth, they took her a pitcher of oil.

Later the mother said, "O Abu Ese! We want to take Ese a sheep, maybe a ewe."

They traveled and came upon a shepherd with some ewes.

"O uncle!" Abu Ese said to him, "We ask in Allah's name that you sell us a ewe good for slaughter. But it has to be a good one; fat must be dripping from its nose."

The shepherd brought out the first ewe, but Im Ese said to him, "No! We want the fat to be dripping from its nose!" He went and brought back a ewe with snot dripping from its nose - and what a state she was in! She was tottering. And there was Im Ese saying, "Yes. This is the one we want."

"That's fine," said the shepherd.

They took their ewe and walked on. As they approached Ese's town, they looked and, behold! the surface of the earth was cracked. The ground had cracks in it.

"Abu Ese!" the mother called out.

"Yes."

"By Allah, this land of Ese's is thirsty. Let's pour out the pitcher of oil and water it." They poured it out.

Before they arrived, look! there was a tree shaking like this in the wind.

"Abu Ese!"

"Yes."

"By Allah, this olive tree of Ese's is s.h.i.+vering from the cold. Let's wrap this cloth around it." They wrapped it around.

When they came close to town, they found a watchdog whining.

"Abu Ese!"

"Yes."

"By Allah, this dog of Ese's is hungry. Let's feed him these provisions." They fed him what they had brought.

They arrived, came in, and she said to her daughter, "By Allah, daughter, we brought you oil, cloth, and meat. But we found your land thirsty and watered it with the oil; we found your olive tree cold and wrapped it with the cloth; and we found your b.i.t.c.h hungry and fed her the meat."

"Never mind, mother!" Ese said. "But take care not to tell anyone! Those who ask you, tell them 'we brought what we brought,' and don't let anyone know what you did!"

In two or three days Im Ese said to her husband, "You go home, Abu Ese, look after the chickens and the house, and I'll stay a few more days to help Ese, since she's an only child and now has a baby."

After the father had left for home, Ese said to her mother, "Mother, you stay with the baby and look after him, and let me go out and gather a few pieces of wood." She left the baby with her mother and went to the countryside in search of wood.

The baby started crying. "Poor boy!" thought Im Ese. "By Allah, maybe his head's itching from lice." She went and heated water in a cauldron until it boiled. She then dropped the baby in it, lifted him out, and put him back to bed.

When Ese came home, her mother said, "You see, your son was crying from the lice and the dirt. Here I've washed him and put him to sleep, and from the time I put him in bed he's had his head down and he's been sleeping."

Ese waited. Now the baby will wake up. In a little while he'll wake up. She went to check on the boy and found him dead.

"O you daughter of a cursed father!" she said. "This baby's dead! Soon my husband will be coming home from Hebron, and he'll kill you. You had better go home!"

Im Ese went home, and found that her husband had locked himself in.

"O Abu Ese! Open!"