Forbidden

by Kimberley Griffiths Little

  A low thumping on the drum sounded when Nalla, Brasia’s mother, began playing. I nibbled at my favorite sweet bread, sick with nerves. The steady beat pulsed and Brasia began to sing in the language of the ancient fathers. Stars and desert moonlight slipped from her lips as she sang words of beautiful women and the men who loved them.

  The air hummed when Aunt Judith rose from her spot. Taking the scarf from her shoulders, she knotted it around her hips. Then my aunt began to create circles with her hips, first to the right, then to the left as if she were tracing a large coin in the air. The beaded tassels sewn into the material created a soft swishing sound as they clicked together. Her arms rose to the roof of the tent, palms and fingers rolling like gentle ocean waves.

  Aunt Judith smiled at the watching women. Isolating one hip, she lifted it in a sharp, staccato movement. Up, up, up with each beat of the drum. Judith’s hip twitched, first to the right, then to the left.

  Even after bearing three sons and three daughters, Aunt Judith’s body was beautiful to watch. I loved how gracefully she could swivel her hips, flowing effortlessly like a snake slithering across the desert sands. A moment later, her daughter Hakak rose and she and my aunt mirrored each other’s hip circles, arms crossing in the air.

  Aunt Judith moved out of the firelight, extending her hand to Timnath, her oldest married daughter, so that she could dance next. Falail, who was the same age as Leila, also rose and joined them.

  The drum pounded faster, and then a second drum joined with a syncopated rhythm underneath the steady pulse. My cousins moved around the fire, the beads and coins on their scarves jangling. Their hips moved faster, intricate and spectacular, and I wanted nothing more than to dance like that one day.

  Next, my grandmother rose to her feet, a mischievous smile on her lips. She yanked her hips to the right and left in tiny, quick snaps. Arms snaked through the air, the fingers sometimes fluid and graceful, sometimes poised at the hip to accent the move. She held out her hands to my mother. “Dance with me, Rebekah.”

  With her round, swollen belly, my mother was slower rising to her feet, but each morning she took a few moments to dance and loosen her muscles before the day’s work began. The dance made her strong for childbirth.

  Her eyes caught mine and we smiled at each other. When I was just a little girl, my mother chased me around the tent while I giggled, catching me up in her arms before patiently teaching me the hip circles and dips, how to dig my feet into the sand to anchor myself with the Earth.

  Leila stood up next, calmly flinging off her outer dress to reveal the close-fitting white linen skirt and the thin layers of silk that barely covered her chest.

  Gasps filled the room, but Leila just smiled, unaffected by the sudden attention until Dinah rose to her feet.

  “That dress is blasphemous!” the woman cried. “She shouldn’t be allowed to wear it!”

  “Dinah, please sit down,” my mother said calmly. She pursed her lips meaningfully at Leila. “This celebration is for Jayden, and I will not allow you to interrupt it.”

  There were whispers around the room, but nobody said anything else about Leila’s daring clothing.

  I couldn’t help feeling proud of my sister when she ignored everyone, turned around, and performed a series of intricate hip circles that proceeded to outshine everyone before her.

  I was so caught up in her dance I wasn’t ready when she and my mother twirled toward me and pulled me to my feet. “Oh!” I cried out, but it was too late to run away.

  My mother tied a scarf of beads around my hips, and gave me a quick kiss on the cheek. “It’s your turn, Jayden.”

  My throat was so tight I could barely speak. “I’m not ready—I can’t!”

  My mother smiled serenely and faded into the firelight. I was alone in the circle. The trills and clapping quieted, waiting for me to begin. I could hear my heart in my ears.

  Nalla proceeded to give me loud, steady beats on the drum to follow. Copying my grandmother, I untied the clasp of bone from my head to shake out the braids and whorls Leila had created earlier. My hair now hung thick and loose and soft about my waist.

  “Go on, Daughter,” my grandmother whispered from beyond the firelight.

  Letting out a shaky breath, I turned on the tips of my toes. I wanted to shrink back into the circle of women and disappear, but finally I threw back my arms and began to spin. The tent’s four walls merged and the women blended into a whirl of colorful dresses and dark, beautiful eyes.

  Before I toppled over with dizziness, I stopped, holding out my arms to keep my balance. I curved my arms and hands, then lifted my right hip in a slow, exaggerated arch, bringing it down with a thump of my heel to the soft sand.

  I wasn’t like the swaying, large-hipped women who were so beautiful when they danced, but the jangling scarf accented each of my hip drops. My hair swished like water when I moved into the larger hip circles. Reaching overhead, I brought my hands down, fluttering my fingertips to mimic raindrops. Sighs of admiration filled the tent and I felt my lips curve upward in delight.

  I continued dancing, trying the various steps and movements my mother had taught me over the years. The ancient dance filled me with a pleasure I’d never known before. Time seemed to stand still, and I knew that the universe was watching this moment. My moment.

  When the drumbeats grew louder and faster, the other women all rose to their feet to join me in the final moments of the music. I watched their hips and my own become loose and flowing, moving into rapid, frenzied shimmying.

  I could have sworn my body started to glow as if light were shooting from my fingertips and each strand of hair. The throbbing shimmy spread through my hips and thighs. I trembled with the power of it as though something mysterious and unearthly was happening to me.

  Nalla gave the drum a final blow and the tent vibrated from the lingering echo. An instant later the room exploded with ecstatic, high-pitched trilling and laughter and happiness.

  I sank to my knees, perspiration pouring off my face and body. I wasn’t as accomplished as Aunt Judith, or as sensuous as my sister, but I’d passed the test of womanhood. I’d crossed the doorway into a new world, their world. Hugs and kisses rained like dew on my neck and cheeks.

  My grandmother slipped an arm around my waist. “You do have the gift of dance, my dear. Your beauty tonight was enchanting.”

  Her praise poured over me like warm, silky water.

  “Always remember the sacred purpose,” she went on in a low voice. “You have the Goddess within you, but you must use it wisely, not freely.”

  As Leila poured fresh cups of tea, I stole out the tent door. The sweat on my skin evaporated in the cool air, and I gulped to catch my breath, throwing my head back to stare at the shimmering night sky.

  Never had the power of the dance been so intense. I didn’t know why I’d been so afraid. My body had responded and I felt a thrill deep in my soul.

  Tonight something powerful and magical had happened, just like my grandmother and mother had said. I had changed.

  And I knew that my life would never be the same again.

  3

  I awoke the next morning with the sound of the drum still beating in my throat. Lying in my bed, eyes closed, I relived the ceremony, my wild, intoxicating dance when time seemed to stand still and the stars fell from the heavens just for me.

  Last year when I stood in the circle of women and couldn’t move a single toe, I’d burst into tears and raced outside to hide with the camels. Mother had laughed at my silliness and stroked my hair. But now it was different. The strange magic of last night’s dancing, the power of my shaking hips, the clapping and laughing and cheers of the women of my tribe—I wanted to do it all over again.

  Rolling over slowly, I lifted the bottom edge of the tent and saw a dusty haze drifting through the valley. The sea of camels kicked up enough dirt to create a brown cloud. Today was moving day—the day our tribe would relocate to the northern summer lands to weather
the harsh heat—and I’d overslept. Eagerness overwhelmed me, because this was our last move for the year. No more chasing after rain clouds and small patches of green for our animals, only to pick up and move camp again. In a few weeks we’d pitch our tent at Tadmur oasis and stay for months.

  The bright sun made me squint. Our camels grumbled, the females begging to be milked, and I could see my father out in the distant desert rounding up the males. Shiz, our best milk-white camel, lumbered over and bumped her nose into my face through the bottom of the tent, the beaded tassels on her forehead tickling as she nibbled on my cheek.

  I reached out to stroke her neck. “Yes, yes, I will pet you, silly girl.” Ducking back under, I scrambled to my feet. Dust danced lazily in slivers of light as I searched for my mother.

  I took a step and nearly stumbled over Leila, who still slept beside me. With my toe I nudged her. “Get up; half the valley has already left! We’re going to be the last ones to leave!”

  “Go away,” Leila muttered into her pillow.

  I grabbed the wooden milking bowl as the unexpected sound of moans came from the other side of the partition.

  “Mother?” I hurried past the hanging panels and found her crouched in a corner, a stick clamped between her teeth, sweat pouring off her face. “Mother! What’s wrong? Why didn’t you call for me?”

  She spit out the stick. “Began at dawn,” she gasped. “I hoped it would stop.” Her face clenched in another spasm. “I can’t have this baby now.”

  The baby.

  My mind raced. The oasis midwife was three hundred miles away and the caravan procession of families and pack camels was already leaving. “How long since the pains began?”

  My mother’s eyes rose to meet mine. “Two hours and they’re coming faster and harder. We need to prepare. I’m getting older, so there’s no predicting what will happen.” She gave me a wan smile as if trying to alleviate my fears. “All will be well. I’m looking forward to my first son.”

  My thoughts ran in circles. No midwife. No preparations. “What—”

  “Go. Ask your father to fetch Judith and Timnath,” my mother suggested.

  I nodded and grabbed a leather skin of cool water and held it to her lips. Then I dipped a piece of cloth in the water and laid it over her forehead.

  Leaping over the pile of rolled rugs, I kicked my sister again. “Get up! Our baby brother is about to arrive.”

  Leila groaned and blinked her eyes.

  “If you’re not ill, I swear I’m going to scream!”

  Leila got up on one elbow, her hair rumpled, eyes rimmed with streaks of black, messy kohl. “I went with Falail to the caves in the hills after your ceremony, and we didn’t get home until dawn.”

  I halted in midstep. “The caves? What were you doing there?”

  Leila began to pack up her bed, not looking at me. “We watched the women dance.”

  “What women?”

  “Not our clan, of course. We don’t do anything that’s not completely dull and boring. But there was a girl—she danced like a goddess. As if she were Ashtoreth herself.”

  I was so startled I couldn’t even react. I was also so curious I wanted to ask her a hundred questions, but there was no time. “Right now you need to help Mother while I get Father to find Aunt Judith.”

  “I think Aunt Judith is already gone,” Leila said, yawning. “Uncle Abimelech’s tent was to lead off—which means your beloved Horeb is officially in training as tribal prince.”

  I gulped. The oasis by Tadmur was the place of weddings and births. With Horeb officially being trained as tribal leader, that meant our wedding . . . It was all happening much too fast.

  “But I could be wrong,” Leila added with a grin.

  “For once, I hope you’re right. I mean wrong.” I let out a choked laugh as I heard another moan. “Where’s Grandmother?”

  “She’s traveling with Abimelech’s tent. We’ll see her when we reach Tadmur. Didn’t you pay any attention to the gossip last night?”

  Parting the tent doors, I stumbled into the hot sunshine, trying not to panic as I stared out across the desert, which was quickly emptying.

  All I could see for miles was the long, winding train of camels and litters, moving slowly out of the valley. The nearest tent was at least half a mile away, but familiar landmarks shifted on moving day. As I shielded my eyes, the doors of one of the last-standing tents parted and Horeb emerged, regal in his finest cloak. A blue headdress sat on the crown of his head, the tail end of it swathed across his face for traveling. His bearing was majestic, as though he had already slipped into his role as tribal prince.

  The world around me seemed to tilt. A trickle of sweat dripped down my spine. Memories floated to the surface of my mind, images of Horeb when he was younger, trying to steal kisses from the other girls in the tribe. Those old memories still stung, like lemon juice on a cut.

  From the tent, my mother’s moans grew more intense, taking me out of my worries. I had to get somebody now, and Horeb was the only one who could lead me to Aunt Judith or my grandmother. And yet, it could take hours to find them. Time my mother didn’t have.

  “Horeb!” I called out to him. Keeping my eyes on the tent, I headed for the white horizontal stripes that marked the women’s quarters. The tent flaps closed and Horeb strode toward his camel, a massive animal so tall I barely reached its girth.

  “Horeb, please help us. My mother—the baby is coming!”

  He swung into the saddle of his camel as I ran up to him, dust flying into my eyes, dirt in my mouth.

  “The camel train is ready to go,” he said, his fist resting on the hilt of his sword. “I’m already late.”

  “What?” I wanted to scream at him. Instead I clutched at the hem of his trousers. “You can’t leave us alone! I need Judith. Or my grandmother. Or—please ride into the gully and find my father—something!”

  Horeb jerked his chin toward the procession and I could feel the ground shake from the movement of hundreds of camels. “My mother is a mile from here in that sea of camels. I won’t see her until tonight.”

  “But you have to—”

  His camel began to dance on the sand, eager to run. “If you want to be married to a tribal chief, you have to get used to doing things on your own. And you have to run the camp without me.”

  I grabbed at his halter, trying to stop him, but the leather slipped from my fists, burning the skin of my palms. “Zenos would have stayed and helped—even if he was the tribal prince!” I spat out.

  Horeb shrugged, unmoved by my words. “I’m not Zenos, am I?” Digging his heels into his camel, the animal galloped off, leaving me standing there. I wanted to let loose a string of curses and take my cousin’s smug smile and grind it into the dirt.

  The tent Horeb had emerged from suddenly crumpled to the ground in great waves of panels, ready for rolling and packing. Silently, the women began the work of preparing the tent for loading onto their camels. I noticed one particularly pretty girl on her knees folding over the edges of a panel and wondered whether Horeb had been visiting her.

  Turning away, I scanned the desert. I couldn’t worry about Horeb right now. Another tent was still standing off to my right. The last one besides our own. “Please,” I prayed, “let someone help me.”

  I took off running again, shouting when I got close. “Women of the tent, it is Jayden, daughter of Pharez!”

  The rear flap opened and Nalla ran out. “Is someone ill?”

  “My mother. The baby is coming,” I gasped.

  Nalla’s face turned sober. “Where is your family on the trail? Is your mother inside the camel litter?”

  “No, we aren’t even loaded, and her pains are getting worse.”

  Behind Nalla’s shoulder, I watched her daughters, Dinah and Brasia, pull the inner poles down, collapsing the tent.

  Nalla called to them to follow us as soon as the tent was finished. Gripping my hand, she ran with me back home.

  My father
had returned with the rest of the herd and I was so glad to see him I wanted to cry. Shouting commands, he kept the camels from knocking over the tent as they milled about the yard, then he grabbed the bowls to finish the milking—usually a woman’s job, mine. He nodded as Nalla and I came into the campsite, and his solemn, worried eyes told me that he knew the baby was coming early.

  Ducking inside our tent, Nalla pressed her hands against my mother’s abdomen and she gave a groan. “The baby is large, but I think it’s in the right position. It’s just going to take time. Leila, bring more water to keep her cool. And Jayden, you need to make the preparations so your mother can deliver the child when it’s time.”

  Slowly I nodded, sinking to the floor on my knees to prepare the birthing hole as Leila hurried to the water pots to refresh the cold cloths.

  “Roll back the carpets and dig a hole the length of two hands and just as deep,” Nalla told me. “This way the baby will have a place to land when he’s born.”

  Moments later, Dinah and Brasia arrived with hair pulled back and tense faces.

  “Form a circle around Rebekah,” Nalla said. “We’re going to do the birthing dance to help her breathe through the pains and to help the baby move more easily.”

  My heart was lodged in my throat, thick and painful. “I don’t know how to do that dance,” I said, still kneeling beside the freshly dug hole in the floor.

  “Just follow us,” Brasia replied, pulling me into the circle.

  Perspiration drenched my mother’s face as she let out a grunt and rose to her feet.

  “Fetch a piece of camel hide to put in the hole,” Nalla instructed me. “It will give the baby a softer spot to lie in.”

  I scurried to find some soft, tanned hide and patted it down into the hole, forming a small bowl. “Done.”

  My mother bent over, clinging to the tent pole. “Sharp pains. Down low.”

  Nalla soothed her. “It’s been so long, you’ve forgotten what they’re like.”

  My mother’s eyes were bright and glassy, her face flushed as she shook her head. “Something isn’t right. I don’t want to lose my baby, not again.”