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The Zanzibar Wife

Page 20

by Deborah Rodriguez


  Hani’s father picked up the cane and placed it at an angle across Rachel’s stomach. Taking the crown of her head into one large palm, his thumb resting on the middle of her forehead, he resumed his recitations. He paused only to adjust the cane, straightening it across Rachel’s upper thighs. Leaning in toward her ear, his voice became a whisper. Rachel’s legs jerked slightly. The man nodded with satisfaction in Ariana’s direction, and lowered the cane slightly to a spot right above Rachel’s knees, never once breaking his mumbled lullaby. As he continued to chant, the movement in her legs increased. It was as if they were awakening to a life of their own, the movement following the path of the stick as Hani’s father gradually placed it lower and lower until it was resting on Rachel’s ankles. Then he stopped.

  “Come and sit.” He stood over Rachel and waited as she pushed herself halfway up with her hands and scooted backwards until her spine was resting against the bottom of the sofa, across the narrow room from a wide-eyed Ariana. Hani’s father removed the purple covering from her head and spread it across her legs. Though pale and dazed, she seemed more relaxed than Ariana had ever seen her before.

  “Wait, what is that?” Ariana asked as the man handed a tall glass of orange liquid to Rachel.

  “No worries. It is a blend of herbs. Twenty-four herbs. It is made special for her by me.”

  “Which herbs?” Ariana continued. “Exactly what is in there?” She grabbed the glass away before Rachel could finish.

  Now Hani’s father turned his attention to Rachel’s feet, which seemed to be twitching even more than before.

  “They’re so cold,” Rachel complained quietly.

  The man simply nodded. Then he took her right ankle into his hand and turned her foot inwards. “Now we wait.”

  “Wait for what?” Ariana asked nervously.

  “Watch,” he answered. “You will see.”

  The shawl across Rachel’s legs began to vibrate. Faster and faster it shook from the force of the spasms raging through her. Then, just as Ariana jumped to her feet to somehow come to her rescue, Rachel let out a wail that shook the house, as if something deep inside had burst wide open.

  Hani’s father waved Ariana off with a hand, and helped Rachel up to a seat on the sofa. “Now you must lie back and sleep,” he said to her.

  29

  The sun seemed to pause directly behind the thick colored windowpanes, making them glow, for an instant, as if they were the most magnificent stained glass in the Sultan’s mosque. Ariana stretched her weary limbs and rose silently from the sofa, careful not to wake Rachel, who remained as still as a corpse under a blanket.

  Slipping out the front door and into the covered courtyard, she stopped to savor the calm before performing her morning ablutions. The fury that had swept the earth to the skies the day before had completely passed, leaving a thin coating of dust that had piled high into little mountains in the corners as the only evidence of its visit. By the light of day things didn’t seem quite so frightening, but that didn’t mean she was any less anxious to leave.

  The water from the marble sink felt like cool velvet as it splashed across her face, washing away the last remnants of the storm while giving her the strength to face a long day after a sleepless night. Ariana helped herself to a clean towel from a pile beneath the sink, shook open the folds and floated it down to cover a spot on the dusty ground. She then pulled the scarf from her handbag and draped it over her head and shoulders, and, using the sun as her guide, she kneeled facing Mecca for her morning prayers.

  Rachel was up by the time she returned, perched on the edge of the sofa with her head in her hands.

  “How are you today?” Ariana brushed Rachel’s hair from her face.

  Rachel lifted her eyes, looking surprisingly bright and alert. “I’m good, I guess. When I finally did sleep, I slept like a log.”

  “It’s no wonder. Who knows what he slipped into that drink? Personally, I didn’t sleep a wink.”

  “Sorry. I’m sure the whole thing must have freaked you out.”

  Ariana laughed a little. “That’s putting it mildly. I am so ready to be gone from here it’s not funny.” She took a tube of gloss from her purse and dabbed it onto her lips with her pinky finger. “I have to say, from my perspective it was quite terrifying. Yet you seemed so calm! Weren’t you scared?”

  Rachel hesitated for a moment. “No, not scared. But when he put that cloth over me and told me to close my eyes, that was kind of creepy.”

  “It must have been terribly claustrophobic.”

  “And hot! Oh my god, his hands felt like they were burning each time he touched me. Did he warm them on the fire or something?”

  “Not that I saw. And all that smoke! It’s a wonder you weren’t choking under there. Or sneezing at least.” Ariana sat down next to Rachel.

  “I know. Weird, right? But once he started doing his thing, I did feel pretty calm. Only hot. And after, when he sat me up, I was totally freezing. Especially my feet.”

  Ariana looked down at Rachel’s feet, now still and warm beneath her thick white crew socks. “I hope you don’t mind me asking, but what was it that made you scream and cry like that, right when he had you sit up? Now, that was horrifying.”

  Rachel closed her eyes. “I’m not sure,” she sighed. “It was sort of like one minute I was feeling completely overwhelmed, like a balloon pumped up over the max. And then all of a sudden, whoosh! Like someone had popped a hole in the soles of my feet and everything went flying out all at once, like a purge.” She leaned back against a cushion. “What the hell do you think that was about?”

  Ariana stood and shook out Rachel’s blanket, folding it hastily into a tidy square. What she thought it was about was something she’d rather not speak of. “So are you all set to go? Adil should be on his way. We’ll be out of this place before you know it.”

  Rachel rubbed her forehead with her palms. “I really wish I could figure this all out. After the thing with Hani’s father I had the strangest dreams. But they didn’t really feel like dreams. Has that ever happened to you?”

  Ariana didn’t respond.

  “I kind of think I was starting to remember a little bit of what happened to me last night.” She stood and began to pace the room. “There was a place with palm trees, sort of like the ocean at that fancy hotel in Muscat, but not.”

  “There are palm trees all over Oman.” Ariana checked her watch.

  “And there was a lot of sand.”

  “That too, Rachel. Especially last night.”

  “No, I mean it was a real place. At least I think it was. Shit, I feel like Dorothy after Oz.”

  “Right. And there’s no place like home. Which is just where I intend to go as soon as I can get us out of here.” She plumped up the pile of pillows that had been resting under Rachel’s head overnight and began to arrange them in a neat row across the sofa.

  “I’m not kidding, Ariana. Maybe we shouldn’t be in such a hurry to leave. I really would like a chance to talk to Hani’s father again.”

  Ariana paused with a pillow in her hands. “No, Rachel. Absolutely not. We have to go. Haven’t you had enough of all this?”

  Rachel stopped and turned to Ariana. “Well you’re the one who believes in it all. So what, all of a sudden you’re singing a different tune? I’m just saying.”

  “And I’m just saying let’s not get swept into anything more than we already have while we’re here.” Ariana tossed the pillow onto the sofa.

  “I think it’s a little late for that, don’t you?”

  “That’s not what I’m talking about,” she spat back.

  “Jeez, lighten up, would you, Ariana?”

  Ariana remained with her back to Rachel until the warmth left her cheeks.

  “Look,” she finally said. “You know and I know that I came here against my better judgment. But I did it. I spent the night in this house having absolutely no intention of doing so, but here I am. I’ve been scared out of my wits by thin
gs we should not be messing with and that may never be explained, and I can’t deal with any more of that right now. I admit I’ve made the worst decision ever, and the sooner I can leave it all behind the better.” She plopped down heavily onto a sofa. “I’m glad I got the chance to meet you, Rachel. I really am. But honestly?” Ariana’s voice had risen with each anxious word. “I should never, ever have agreed to take this job.”

  “Pipe down!” Rachel whispered. “Do you want to wake the entire household?”

  With that they both turned to the sound of someone stirring in the courtyard.

  “If you ask me, it’s more than just the jinn that’s driving you out of Bahla,” Rachel whispered.

  “Oh, please,” Ariana whispered back.

  “Don’t pretend you don’t know what I mean. There’s a lot I do remember quite clearly about last night, you know.”

  For a moment the room was silent. Ariana looked down at the carpet as she began to speak. “You may think you understand, but you really don’t.”

  “How do you know I don’t?”

  “You don’t understand because you are not me, Rachel,” Ariana hissed, her eyes meeting Rachel’s. “That’s how I know. There is no way you could truly understand my culture. And there is no way you could understand how betrayed I feel. For me, finding out that Hani had been hiding the fact that he was involved in magic was as if I had found out he was an escaped convict. That shocking, and that disturbing. What kind of guy does that? If he truly cared about me, he would never have lied.”

  “But he didn’t lie!”

  “Please. The man has made it quite clear that he thinks I’m not worthy of his respect, and I have only acted to prove him right.”

  “Stop blaming yourself for what happened at the wadi. My god, Ariana. It’s only sex. It’s natural.”

  “I never said anything about sex!” Ariana snapped. “And I’m no prude, if that’s what you’re thinking. I was married once, remember? But just so you know, that is not the way things are done around here. You have to understand, we are not like you, sleeping with whomever you find yourself with at the end of the night. Trying men out as if they were competing for a spot on the team, tallying them up like points on a scorecard. It’s not decent. And it is not allowed.”

  Rachel was saved from having to defend herself by the sudden sound of voices coming from behind the swinging door.

  “So they are gone?” a woman asked.

  “Yes, Mother. They were being picked up before dawn. I offered to take them but Ariana refused.”

  “Of course,” Hani’s mother answered. “Well, good. I have better ways for you to spend your day here with me.”

  “Whatever you need, Mother.”

  “Inshallah, I am a lucky woman, with a son like you to depend on.”

  “And I am a lucky son as well,” Hani answered in a singsong voice that made it sound as if these were lines they had delivered back and forth to each other many times before.

  “Imagine life with a woman like that,” his mother continued. “A woman who has no respect for tradition, no respect for the normal order of things in a household.”

  If Hani had an answer, Ariana didn’t hear it.

  “That type brings nothing but trouble. Nothing but arguments and defiance.”

  “Why are you telling me this, Mother?”

  “A woman like that can get her hooks into a man and not let go. I have seen it happen.”

  “Don’t worry. You can see there are no hooks in me. She is gone.”

  “And I am sure she does not even cook.”

  “All right, Mother.”

  “And she is too old to bear children.”

  “Okay, Mother.”

  “A woman like that would be a curse on a man. I thank God you are not marrying her.”

  “Please, Mother.”

  “No, you will settle down with a good wife. In fact, I have the perfect girl already picked out for you.”

  “I’m sure you do, Mother.”

  “A woman who is young and pure, who has not been married before.”

  “That is enough, Mother.”

  “She is ten times better than a woman like that.”

  There was a pause in the conversation that, to Ariana, seemed to last a thousand years. She held her breath as the first words of Hani’s response came roaring from behind the door.

  “A woman like that? How can you speak of a woman like that? You do not even know one thing about a woman like Ariana. She is kind and sweet and gentle. And she is smart, and curious, and can make a person feel as though they are the only other one in the room. She would do anything for anyone. A woman like that worships her family, and loves her faith just as deeply. She does not need to be covered from head to toe to prove her devotion. She does not need to hide her hair of silk or her slender waist to hold her beliefs. And do you know what? Even though I do like what is on the outside, it is what is inside Ariana that I find the most attractive. There are not many women I have met who are as true to themselves as Ariana. In fact, there are no other women like Ariana. A woman like that? I would be lucky to marry a woman like that.”

  A soft cough coming from the direction of the courtyard drew Rachel and Ariana’s attention away from the argument behind the door. Hani’s father poked his head in and turned his dark eyes from one woman to the other and back again before crossing the room in a purposeful stride and pushing his way through the swinging door that led to the rest of the house. His sharp words penetrated loud and clear in a serious-sounding Arabic scolding that neither of them could understand. The discussion between Hani and his mother came to an abrupt halt and then, silence.

  Hani’s father returned to the sitting room and handed Ariana a box of tissues to wipe away the tears she realized had appeared on her cheeks. “And you,” he said as he sat himself down next to Rachel, peeling an orange while he spoke. “How are you feeling today?”

  “I’m okay. But can I ask you—”

  “You know, it usually takes many sessions for the healing to properly work.”

  Rachel laughed a little. “Right. Like a chiropractor.”

  “But what I did should help.”

  Ariana sat quietly, straining to hear the sound of Adil’s tires on the driveway.

  “It is a start,” Hani’s father continued.

  “Do you have any idea what happened to me down in the souk?” Rachel asked.

  Hani’s father popped a section of the juicy citrus into his mouth and swallowed. “Of course I do. But that is not where your problems come from.”

  “My problems? All I want to know is how I lost all that time last night.”

  “Ah,” he said as he stretched out his long legs in front of him, “but you see, everything is connected.”

  “How?”

  “You are one who has wounds that run deep, deeper than the one that gave you that scar on your arm. These are the wounds that cannot be seen by the human eye, the kind of trouble from spirits that have been living within you for years.”

  “Well, I suppose if by spirits you mean memories—”

  “I mean what I say. Can you tell me that you didn’t feel something last night, here on this floor?”

  “No,” Rachel answered in a whisper.

  “Exactly. And if I have done my job well, it means I have cleared the way for the one still inside to get what she wants from you.”

  “She? Who? Get what from me?”

  “We need to go, Rachel,” Ariana said quietly. “Let’s go wait out in front for Adil.”

  “Just a sec, Ariana. I just need to get some answers before we head back.”

  “You are going back to Nizwa?” Miza stood in the sitting room doorway, her arms cradling her belly and her eyes clouded with worry. “Please, will you take me? I must go to Tariq. The hospital called to say they have lessened his medications. They are hoping he will awaken soon.”

  “Of course we’ll take you. Let me help you gather your things.” Ariana stood and t
ook Miza’s arm.

  “I will take you,” Hani’s father offered. “Your time is quite near.” He nodded toward her middle.

  “Really,” Ariana insisted. “We can do it. It’s no problem.” There was no way she was going to leave the poor woman alone, open to the influences of Hani and his family, in her vulnerable state.

  “That scarf!” Rachel raised herself slowly from the sofa with her eyes fixed on the orange and blue cloth wrapped around Miza’s head.

  “Rachel, this is hardly the time …” Ariana turned to Hani’s father for backup.

  “No, really,” Rachel persisted, reaching her hand out to touch the worn fabric. “I’ve seen this scarf before. I saw it last night.”

  “You mean in your dreams?” Ariana asked as she watched Hani’s father finishing his fruit with a satisfied smile on his face.

  “It was the exact same pattern,” Rachel continued. “Only I think it was wrapped like a skirt. On a child. A girl.”

  “Maybe you were just remembering seeing it on Miza, before. I’ll get your things, Miza.” Ariana plumped a pillow and urged the pregnant woman to sit.

  Rachel shook her head. “I swear I haven’t. And the scarf, that girl, they were as real to me as the hand in front of my face.” She jumped up and grabbed her backpack from the floor. “I’ll show you guys! I took pictures. The old woman wanted me to. I remember now!” Rachel gripped the Leica in her shaking hands as she pressed with her thumb to scroll through the images.

  “It’s okay, Rachel. Seriously, this isn’t the time.” Ariana narrowed her eyes and shook her head.

  “But I think I might have photos of the girl! I swear!”

  “I do not need to see pictures.” Miza’s voice came out low and hushed. “I know who it was. It was my sister you saw wearing the kanga last night. My sister Sabra.”

  30

 

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