Speak Bird Speak Again

by Folktales

  "Not at all," she answered. "I can't see, and I don't know. I haven't seen anybody."

  Now (the distant one!), the ghouleh kept running and searching until she burst and died. And the girl took off her wooden dress and went home. When her father came back from the hajj and heard the story, he blamed his neighbor for what he had done, marrying the girl off without his permission. After that they lived in bliss and happiness, and may Allah save the mouths of my listeners!

  35.

  Pomegranate Seeds

  There was once a woman who had no children except an only daughter whom she indulged. She had a pair of golden slippers made for her. The mother loved her daughter very much and would send her to the sheikh for lessons. (In the old days there were no schools; the sheikhs were the teachers.) Early one morning the girl went to the house of the sheikh and found him skinning a little boy and devouring him.

  She gathered herself and ran away, not returning to her mother. "If I return to my mother," she thought, "she'll want to take me back to him, and he'll devour me. I'd rather not stay in this place at all." She ran away in fear, leaving one of her golden slippers by the doorstep. One slipper fell off, while 'the other remained on her foot as she ran. She came to a shopkeeper.

  "O uncle!" she pleaded, "It's now evening, and I'm a stranger in town. Won't you let me sleep here tonight, in your shop?"

  "Yes, my daughter," he replied, "why not?"

  He left her in his shop and went home. Who came to her? The sheikh. He said to her:

  "Tell me, Pomegranate Seeds!

  What strange sights did you see,

  When by the doorstep of the master

  You forgot your golden slipper?"

  She answered:

  "I saw him praying and fasting,

  The eternal Lord worshipping."

  The sheikh tore up all the cloth, turning the big shop upside down, and left. When the owner came to open his shop and check on the girl, he found it all torn up. "Oh! My son!" he cried out. "Help, people, help!" The townspeople felt sorry for him. They brought a tray and collected money for the goods he had lost. He beat the gift until he nearly killed her. "Have pity? they reproached him. "Why are you beating her? Could she have torn up your shop?"

  Eventually the girl made her escape to another town. She came to a grocer who sold ghee, sesame oil, sugar, and olive oil.

  "O uncle!" she begged him, "Won't you let me sleep here tonight?"

  "Yes, my daughter," he replied, "why not?"

  The sheikh came to her at night, and he said:

  "Tell me, Pomegranate Seeds!

  What strange sights did you see,

  When by the doorstep of the

  master You forgot your golden slipper?"

  She answered:

  "I saw him praying and fasting,

  The eternal Lord worshipping."

  The sheikh poured the olive oil into the sesame oil, mixing them together with the ghee, the rice, and the sugar. Then, turning his back, he left.

  In the morning the owner opened his shop. "Oh! My son!" he lamented, beating his breast. As they had done for the other one, the people collected money for this one.

  The girl meanwhile pulled herself together and left. "Where am I to go?" she wondered. "I've nowhere left except this tall tree here. Live or die, I'm going to climb it. He won't see me up there." She climbed and sat up in the tree, looking like the full moon, like a doll.

  In a while the king came to water his horse by the pool under the tree, but the animal shied. The king looked up and saw a maiden like the full moon sitting in the tree.

  "Young woman!" he called out, "Are you human or jinn?"

  "By Allah, I'm human," she answered. "From the choicest of the race."

  "Come down and ride behind me!"

  She was hungry. She had not eaten in two days (and of course the Son

  of Adam cannot live if he does not eat). She collected herself, came down, and rode behind him. He took her to his mother and said, "Mother!"

  "Yes, son."

  "I've captured a treasure. If you like me, you must like her. And if you love me, you must love her."

  "Of course, son," she said. "Like my own eyes." The mother brought the girl up until she became a young woman, lovely like the moon.

  "Mother!" said the king when the maiden came of age, "I want to marry her."

  "Marry her," said the mother.

  The king married her, and she became pregnant and gave birth to a boy. When she had given birth to her first son, the sheikh came to her in the night. He said:

  "Tell me, Pomegranate Seeds!

  What strange sights did you see,

  When by the doorstep of the master

  You forgot your golden slipper?"

  And she answered:

  "I saw him praying and fasting,

  The eternal Lord worshipping."

  Snatching her son away from her, he smeared her hands and mouth with blood and disappeared.

  In the morning the servant went up to the master's quarters: "O Master, she's all bloody!"

  "Don't worry about it," the king said.

  The next time, the sheikh did with the second son as he had done with the first and disappeared. The king questioned his wife, but she would not say a word, neither yes nor no. She was afraid to speak.

  The third time, she gave birth to a girl. The sheikh came, seized the baby, and disappeared.

  "That's it!" announced the king. "She's hereby deserted! Put her in a separate house!"

  "But," protested the servants and his mother, "tomorrow she'll devour us and our children!"

  "No!" insisted the king, "I won't get rid of her. I'll leave her in separate quarters." And every day after that he himself came to give her food through the window.

  One day the king decided to go on the hajj. He said to himself, "I might as well go see what Pomegranate Seeds wants."

  "Pomegranate Seeds!" he said, "What do you want from the Hijaz?"

  "I only want the box of myrrh and seven switches of pomegranate wood," she answered. "And if you don't bring them, may your camels start dropping blood and pus, and stop you from coming back!"

  He traveled and traveled. He bought the whole world but forgot the box of myrrh. Halfway home, the men were going to leave the camels behind. They had collapsed, and not one of them was able to move.

  "Boys!" said the king, "I've forgotten something." He went back and started asking around, "O Uncle, do you happen to have the box of myrrh and seven whips of pomegranate wood?" People laughed at him, snickering, "What's with you, uncle? Are you crazy? Are you in your right mind? By Allah, this thing you mention, we've never heard of it before."

  He asked a second person, and a third. Finally, he came upon a clever one, who said, "What are you looking for, O hajj?"

  "I want the seven whips of pomegranate wood and the box of myrrh," replied the king. "How much do they cost?"

  "Fifty dinars."

  "Here! Take a hundred, and let's finish with this business!"

  Taking the money, the other went to an orchard and cut seven switches of pomegranate wood. He then went back to the market and bought a small amount of bitter myrrh, put it in a box, and brought it, along with the whips of pomegranate wood, saying, "Please accept these!"

  Before the king had even reached them, the camels were running.

  "Here you are!" he said to his wife.

  A short time after the hajj, the king wanted to marry again. It was the unveiling of the bride (people everywhere!), and the king was about to remarry. Pomegranate Seeds started whipping the box of myrrh with the pomegranate switches, crying out:

  "O box of myrrh, give me patience!

  To his school I went and found him

  Devouring a boy. I ran away,

  Dropped my slipper thereto

  O box of myrrh, give me patience!

  Then I climbed the tree,

  And the king m
arried me.

  I gave birth to the first ones -

  O box of myrrh, give me patience!

  Then I gave birth to the girl,

  And they told him I was a ghouleh -

  O box of myrrh, give me patience!"

  She had not finished, when lo! the wall split open and she saw her children walking out of it. Children of kings, like full moons they were! And what were they like? Well behaved and very, very handsome.

  "Children!" she said to them. "Your father's getting married, and tonight's the night of the unveiling. Go there, and walk right in! When people stop you to ask who you are, say to them, 'This is our father's house, and you, the strangers, are going to kick us out?' Don't listen to anyone! The girl will sit in her father's lap, and you boys one on each side of him."

  They went and entered the bridal room. When the king beheld them, what a sight they were! He stopped looking at his bride, to see what she was like.

  "Get out of here!" the people around shouted at them. "What a disaster you are! Damn your father and the fathers of those who gave birth to you!"

  "This is our father's house," they answered, "and you, the strangers, are going to kick us out?"

  "Where's your father from?" the king asked them, taken by surprise. "Who are you? Who's your mother?"

  "We're the children of the One who lives in the house of desertion," they answered.

  "Speak again," he said, "and tell me the truth!"

  "That's the way it is," they answered.

  "What's the bride's name?" asked the king, and they told him it was Salha.

  "Salha's hereby 'divorced as of last night!" announced the king. "Seven servants are to go escort the queen here!"

  They went and accompanied the queen, and the celebration turned out to be for him and his children.

  Hail! Hail! Finished is our tale!

  36.

  The Woodcutter

  Once upon a time there was a poor man, a woodcutter. Every day he would bring a bundle of wood, sell it, and eat from his earnings. One day, before setting out to the woods in the morning, he roasted a handful of fava beans to entertain himself along the way. He walked along munching on them, taking the road to Bab il-Wadi. As he approached the well belonging to the house of Yusif is-Sliman, the one in the middle of the road, he tossed a bean up in the air - but it did not land in his mouth, it fell right into the well. Driven by his poverty and his sadness over its loss, he squatted by the mouth of the well and cried out:

  "Oh! My fava bean,

  My protection against hunger!

  Oh! My fava bean,

  My protection against hunger!"

  And how he cried over the loss of that bean!

  Now, the well, in it they say there were (in the name of Allah, the Compassionate, the Merciful!) dwellers.

  "Hey uncle, leave us alone!" they answered him "What's the matter with you? You hurt our ears with all this din?

  "I want my lava bean back," he answered, crying again:

  "Oh! My lava bean,

  My protection against hunger!"

  "Uncle!" they :said, "Is it worth all this din? Here! Take this wooden bowl - whatever you tell it to fill with, it will fill, and you can eat something other than these lava beans."

  Taking the bowl with him, he went back home. He brought it into the hut with him, locked the door, and said, "Wooden bowl, fill up with rice and meat, topped with yogurt sauce!" And what do you think happened? Before he even had time to look, the bowl had filled with rice and meat, and with sauce covering them. And what now, you might ask? He ate until he could barely move, and every day after that - evening, morning, and noon - he would tell the bowl to fill with whatever food he wanted to eat. He then ate and threw away the rest.

  One day he felt bored. "Am I just going to sit around in this shack?" he asked himself. "By Allah, I want to go out and have a good time. But what am I going to do with this bowl?" Then he said, "By Allah, I'm going to leave it with our neighbor" - you might say at the house of Im Falah. Going over to her house, he knocked and said, "Hey, Im Falah, Allah save you! Would you mind keeping this wooden bowl in your house and taking care of it? And mind, don't wreck it while I'm gone by saying to it, 'Wooden bowl, fill with rice and meat; or with cracked wheat, noodles and tomato sauce!' and then eating from it! I'll be gone for a couple of days to have a good time, then I'll be back."

  No sooner had he turned his back than Im Falah said, "Wooden bowl, fill with rice and meat, topped with yogurt sauce!" And what! They had barely time to look, when it became full to the brim. The whole family ate till they were stuffed.

  "Yee! By Allah, he'll never see it again. We have an old bowl just like this one, and when he comes back we'll give it to him instead. May he never eat! He's all by himself, and we're a whole family. What does he need it for?"

  Coming back, the woodcutter knocked on their door, "Im Falah!"

  "Yes, brother. What do you want? Do come in, please!"

  "For the sake of Allah," he answered, "give me back the wooden bowl. I'm dying of hunger, and I want to go home and eat."

  She gave it back to him, or so he thought, and he took it home. Right away he said, "Wooden bowl, fill with rice and meat, topped with yogurt sauce? He waited and waited, but it did not fill. "Fill up with cracked wheat and noodles! Fill up with rice and lentils! Fill up with this or that!" But it did not fill. Nothing at all happened.

  When he went to see Im Falah about it, she said, "I don't know what you're talking about, brother. That's the one you brought here and I gave it back to you. What can I do?"

  So back to the well he went, and - splash! - dropped it in and started moaning:

  "Oh! My lava bean,

  My protection against hunger!"

  "What's the matter with you?" asked the dwellers in the well. "Didn't we give you the wooden bowl?"

  "It's ruined," he answered. "It's no good any more."

  "Well, then," they said, "take this mill! If you turn the handle to the fight, it'll grind gold; and to the left, silver."

  Well, he took it with him and went home. Locking the door of his hut, he sat down to grind. Every day he would grind a bit and put it in his pocket, then he would go enjoy himself in Acre, Haifa, or Nazareth. When he had done this for nearly a month, he started to worry. "What if someone should come," he thought, "tear down the door of this shack, and steal the mill?" Taking it to another neighbor, you might say to Noxa's house, he said, "O Im Yasin! For the sake of Allah, won't you keep this little mill in your house for me while I'm gone?"

  "Yes, brother, you can leave it here. What's going to happen to it?"

  "Meanwhile," he said, "Allah save you! don't use it for grinding gold and silver by turning the handle to the right or to the left!"

  No sooner had he turned his back than she set it down and said, "Come, let's try this mill!" And behold! what was the result? The woman went crazy with happiness.

  In a day or two, he came back.

  "O Im Yasin, for Allah's sake, give me back the mill!"

  Taking what she gave him home, he turned the handle this way and that, but it did not grind anything. He spread his legs and sat down. Turn the handle this way, turn the handle that way, till he was exhausted, and still no result.

  "Damn your owner's father!" he cursed it.

  Back to the well he went, and - splash! - he dropped it down to the bottom and repeated his lament:

  "Oh! My fava bean,

  My protection against hunger?

  "Hey, uncle!" they said. "You've destroyed our peace! Didn't we give you the wooden bowl and the little mill? What more do you want?"

  "People have robbed them from me," he complained.

  "Well," they responded, "in that case take this stick back to the people you left them with and say to it, 'O my stick, keep flitting, on the side of this neighbor hitting!' and it'll keep on bashing them until they return your things."

  Back home he went, strai
ght to Im Falah. "Give me back my wooden bowl!" he said.

  "But we already gave it back to you," she insisted.

  "All right, then," he said:

  "O my stick, keep flitting,

  On the sides of Im Falah hitting!"

  And the stick went ahead and beat her and her family until it had softened them up.

  "Please, brother," they begged. "For the sake of Allah, may He damn your father and your wooden bowl! Go, take it! It's the one over there on the shelf."

  He took it and went home. After he had tried it out and made sure that it worked, he left it there and went to Im Yasin's house, where he said:

  "O my stick, keep flitting,

  On the sides of Noxa hitting!"

  The stick hit her over and over, until she said, "There's your mill over there! Go take it, and may Allah damn your father and your mill!"

  He took it home, tried it out and found it worked, and lived in comfort from then on.

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

  37.

  The Fisherman

  Once there was a fisherman who lived all by himself in a shack. Every day he caught some fish and sold them, saving a few for his neighbor to cook for him. Because he was by himself and had nobody, she took pity on him. One day he thought, "Am I to keep imposing on my neighbor like this? By Allah, I'm going out to the coffeehouse for a cup of coffee, and when I come back I'll prepare the fish myself." He put the fish down, covering them with a platter, and went to the coffeehouse, where he sat down to sip a cup of coffee. When he came home, he discovered his house had been visited. While he was gone, a board had dropped from the ceiling, and three daughters of the king of the jinn had come out. One of them had cleaned the fish, another had fried them; then they had left, having first done his dishes and put his house in order.

  When he came back, he uncovered the fish and found them all cleaned, scraped, and cooked exactly the way he liked them. "By Allah," he thought, "my neighbor must have taken pity on me and come in to prepare the fish for me." The next day, he went to her house. "Here!" he said. "Take these fish, neighbor, and may Allah reward you! Yesterday you came in and prepared the fish for me at home."