by Kahn, Denise
Jamil fell to his knees, took the doctor’s hand and kissed it. “Allah be praised!”
“Now, Jamil, get up and listen.” Simeon said, easily lifting him up. Jamil couldn’t stop thinking about his strength—those arms!—they reminded him of palm tree trunks.
“Yes, Doctor.”
“Ali will be in the hospital for several days. We will give him medicine and then he will be fine. I don’t want him doing any kind of work, especially any lifting. He needs time to heal from the operation. Is that understood?”
“Yes, Doctor, anything you say. Now, please, I must pay you.”
“You said you were a fisherman.”
“Yes.”
“A noble profession.”
“You think so?”
“Of course. You feed people. You feed me. If you did not bring this food how could I operate?” Jamil smiled, nodding. “So, you are worried about your payment.” Jamil nodded again. “This is what we’ll do: During the next month you will go fishing, right?” Again Jamil nodded. He figured it was best to let the doctor do the talking. “You will bring me what you think is the best fish you see, enough for myself and my family, once a week for a month. Is that alright? Do we have a deal?” Jamil could not believe his ears. He had been worried the entire time about how he would pay this man, this man who had now saved his son’s life.
“Oh, yes, Doctor. Whatever you say, whatever you say!” Jamil beamed, showing off yellowing teeth. He hugged the doctor, although this was difficult—the man was really big. Perhaps he should have been a wrestler, Jamil thought, and then shook his head. No, the big man with the delicate fingers saved lives—much better.
The next day Jamil was already in the felucca waiting for Ibrahim.
“Jamil, what are you doing here so early?” Ibrahim asked, suppressing a yawn.
Jamil jumped out of the boat and hugged his friend. “He saved his life, he saved his life!”
“Who? Who saved whose life?”
“The Greek, Doctor Simeon, Ali is going to be alright!” Jamil shouted gleefully.
Ibrahim shouted for joy as well and grabbed his friend. They embraced, jumped up and down on the pier, laughed, danced, and even cried. They headed to the felucca an arm on each other’s shoulder, went into the boat and pushed back from the pier. They headed out to sea and Jamil immediately picked up his flute and began playing like never before. He didn’t stop for a moment. It was the happiest day of his life.
“I have never heard you play so well, my friend,” Ibrahim said. “The fish will be hypnotized right into our nets!”
That evening, after fishing and throwing their nets overboard throughout the day, they pulled in their last catch before the rays of sun faded over the horizon. It was one of their best hauls ever.
“Hey, maybe your playing attracted the fish after all!” Ibrahim laughed.
“And you had doubts about my playing! Look at them all!” Jamil exclaimed. “They are big and beautiful. We will have a feast tonight at my house, in honor of my son’s life!” He pulled out and selected what he thought were the biggest and the best. “These I will take to Doctor Simeon; for him and his family. That is the payment: Once a week for the next month.”
“This Doctor Simeon is a good man,” Ibrahim said.
“Yes, he is,” Jamil said groaning, “Ibrahim, help me, there is something heavy in here!”
“What did that music of yours pull in this time?” He said, rushing to his friend’s side.
Both men had all they could do to lift the net out of the water. When they finally did they realized a terra cotta vase, as long as one of their arms and covered with algae, was among their last catch.
“Well, it’s an urn, and not very pretty either,” Ibrahim grunted.
“And slimy with plants from the ocean.”
“What should we do with it? We surely can’t get any money for it. Nobody would want such an ugly old thing.”
“I know,” Jamil exclaimed,” I’ll clean it up nicely and put the Doctor’s fish in it, sort of a packaging. What do you think?”
“Good idea. Now, let’s get back before dark.”
Jamil walked into the hospital, accompanied by his wife. He carried the cleaned up ceramic vase and she held a small box. They went in to see their son. Ali was sitting up in bed, resting peacefully. His parents showered him with kisses and hugs. Doctor Simeon walked in to check on his patient.
“So, Jamil! What do you think of Ali?”
“Oh, Doctor, he looks wonderful! May Allah always grant you all your wishes!”
“Thank you, that would be wonderful. This is Ali’s mother?”
“Yes. My wife, Leila.”
She timidly offered him the small box. Her husband had mentioned that he was as big as the Colossus of Rhodes, but she thought he was exaggerating. “These are some sweets I made for you, Doctor,” she said humbly, amazed at the size of this giant. She would believe her husband from now on.
Simeon’s eyes lit up like a child’s. “Ah, I’m sure they are delicious. I love desserts. Thank you very much.”
“And this is from me, Doctor, and from the sea.” Jamil handed him the ceramic vase. The doctor looked at it, not sure what to make of it. “It is what’s inside that counts!” Jamil said quickly, a little embarrassed by its ugliness.
“Oh?”
“Yes. The best fish in the sea, for you and your family!”
The doctor looked inside the vase. Wrapped in palm leaves were the fish that Jamil chose for him. “Thank you very much, Jamil. And the packaging is quite unique.”
“Yes, we found it in the sea, along with the fish. I cleaned it up before I gave it to you.”
“That’s a wonderful thought. I thank you. But now, if you will excuse me, I must check on my other patients. Ali should be fine to leave in two days.”
“Doctor Simeon,” a little voice called from the bed.
“Yes, Ali?”
“Doctor, you saved my life and took the pain away. When I grow up I want to be just like you.”
“I’m flattered, Ali, but doesn’t your father want you to be a fisherman like him?”
“Oh, Doctor,” Jamil said, “being a fisherman is good, and important, like you say, but my son can become a doctor if he wants. It is the noblest of professions and I wish him anything he wants to do with his life—now that he has one again. It would be an honor if he could help people like you do. With the help of Allah, maybe one day he will succeed.”
“You are a very wise and good man, Jamil. I wish you all the very best.” He rubbed his beard and headed out of the room. Before leaving he turned to Leila and grinned. They both knew the good doctor would enjoy the pastries. He exited the room with the vase and the box of sweet desserts.
Simeon walked through the manicured gardens of his mansion on the outskirts of Alexandria. He carried the ugly urn containing the fish and the box of sweets from the fisherman’s wife. The house stood elegantly in front of him. He was a wealthy and generous man and gave not only of his skills but of his wealth to his community, both the Greek and the Egyptian. Even though he was a foreigner, the locals regarded him as one of their own and revered this doctor. He entered the house and put the vase on the floor and the package on top of it. He looked around for the love of his life, his young daughter, Sela.
“Where is she?” Simeon singsonged, entering the house. “Where is the most beautiful little girl in the world?”
“I’m right here, Daddy,” his daughter said, running to greet him. She jumped up so that her father could catch her.
“Hello, my darling,” he said, throwing her up in the air as if she weighed no more than an apple. He caught her just as easily.
Sela squealed with joy. “Again, Daddy, again!” He obliged her and threw her up again and again. Sela seemed to float, her long black hair making waves through the air.
“Oh, Daddy, what did you bring?” Sela said, her dark eyes filled with delightful anticipation as she saw the box and the ceramic vase.
> “Dessert and dinner.”
“Mm, sweets!” Sela had acquired her father’s sweet tooth. “But what’s that big vase?” She asked.
“Ah, one of my patient’s parents gave it to me as a gift. Dinner is inside,” he grinned.
“It is? What could it be?” She asked, her eyes growing big in wonderment.
“It’s from the sea…” He said, playing with her, trying to make her guess.
“Fish!”
“Yes, my darling, you figured it out! Good for you!”
“But why are the fish inside the vase?”
“The kind fisherman found the vase in the sea too, and he thought it would be a nice idea for a package. He cleaned it up and put the fish inside.”
“Oh, yes, that was a good idea, Daddy—but it’s really ugly,” Sela said with the typical honesty of a child.
Her father roared with laughter. He so enjoyed his little girl’s innocence. “We’ll put it in the kitchen. The cooks will figure out what they can put in it—maybe flour, or grain.”
“Good idea,” Sela said, thinking how smart her daddy was.
“You take the box, my darling, and I’ll take the vase in.”
Sela took the box from her father and peeked inside. “Oh, these look so good! Can I have one now, Daddy, pleeease…?” She begged her father.
“Dinner first.”
“Oh, Daddy, please, please, please…” Her father looked at her. He knew he was not far from giving in, but he had to keep up appearances. Sela slid her little hand in the box, pretending to hide it from the big man.
“I see you…” Simeon singsonged.
Sela ran through the house carrying the box of sweets. She dodged the furniture and hid behind a large sofa. It was a game they always played, and the goal was not to get caught (even though Sela loved when her father did).
“Now where did that little rabbit disappear to?” He said in mock bewilderment, his hands on his hips, looking around the living room. Sela giggled behind the sofa.
“If I find that little rabbit I am going to take that box and eat ALL the sweets, ALL by myself!” Sela groaned, knowing how much her father loved desserts and could very well do what he threatened. “Ah-ha!” A booming voice above the little girl roared, “I found the little rabbit!” He quickly grabbed her by the waist and lifted her high above his head. Sela’s little hands held the box tightly for fear of losing any of its contents. Simeon held her motionless up in the air.
“Daddy, let me down!” She cried, delighted with their game.
“Can’t.”
“Why not?” The little voice said.
“You haven’t given me my reward—I won!”
“No fair! You’re bigger and stronger than I am, Daddy.”
“But you’re smaller and quicker, and you can hide in little spaces—but I caught you,” he said, his eyes gleaming.
“Oh, alright, I’ll give one very tiny, little, little, piece,” Sela said. Her father kept her in the air with one hand. Sela sighed. She knew far too well that that wasn’t going to be enough for her big Daddy. “Alright, you can have a whole piece of the baklava.” He slowly lowered her, but didn’t put her down completely. “Daddy, put me down,” she giggled.
Simeon shook his head. “I don’t trust you. Give me the piece now.” Sela made a face and then grinned. Her Daddy was too smart, besides, he knew her so well. She put her little hand in the box and pulled out the smallest piece she could find. He looked at it, making his eyes fiercely big and waited for her next move. Sela brought it close to his beard, tempting him. Suddenly he put the entire piece in his mouth and managed to gently bite down on one of her fingers.
“Daddy, you’ve got one of my fingers,” Sela complained, “you’re not supposed to eat my fingers!”
“Oh, is that your finger? No wonder it tastes so good,” he said, licking his lips. He put her down and Sela ran off to the kitchen with her box. He heard a crash from behind the wall and immediately ran. No! Nothing could happen to his little girl. He saw her sprawled out on the kitchen floor, still clutching the sweets. She had run into the big ugly vase, and it now lay on its side, a piece of the clay broken off the top. Simeon lifted Sela up. “Are you alright, my darling?” He asked, worried.
“I’m fine Daddy, but I broke the vase. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t worry,” he said picking her up, “it was terribly ugly anyway.”
“Daddy, look, there’s some red color under the mud.”
Simeon stared at where his daughter pointed her finger. “Let’s take a look.” He tried to break off more of the ceramic but it was too hard. He put her down. “You go wash up for dinner. I’ll see you in a bit.”
“Alright, Daddy.”
Simeon took the vase outside to a work shed. He put it on a table and looked for a hammer. He found one and then gently tapped the encrusted mud until it started to flake off. He continued until all the ceramic was chipped away. He looked at it. There was another cocoon around it. He could not tell what lay under this next layer. He rubbed his beard. This is a wonderful mystery, he thought. He was having a good time.
“Doctor?” A voice called out to him from the house. It was one of the cooks. “Dinner is ready.”
“Thank you. I’ll be right there,” he shouted back.
Simeon watched his daughter as she ate the succulent fish the cook had prepared. She is so lovely and delicate, very much like her mother was, he thought. Simeon stared at the young girl. He loved watching her; the way she put little pieces of food into her mouth, the way her eyes danced when he came home—and most of all, the gentleness of her heart.
Simeon had lost his wife at childbirth, something that always enraged him. He never could imagine that the medical field—and especially him, since he was a doctor—could not have saved the person he adored most in the universe. Now, little Sela was twice as important to him. His wife lived on in his little girl and Simeon devoted his life to the child, to the progress of medicine, and to saving lives. He had always been well off. Money and wealth were definitely not his priority in life—on the contrary the welfare of the human race was, and the Greek community as well as the local government had rewarded him. They made him a Bey, a noble of Egypt.
When everyone was asleep Simeon went to the shed. It was dark and he found a gas lamp. He lit it, and studied the vase in front of him. What was that coating? He wondered. He rubbed his beard. “Of course! Rosin!” He exclaimed. He looked around. He didn’t see anything delicate enough to cut with. He went back into the house and grabbed his medical bag, took it out to the shed and opened it. He pulled out a scalpel, and made a precise incision in the wax as if he were performing the most delicate of operations. He went over the cut time and time again, until he was satisfied that he was all the way through, without harming whatever lay underneath. Simeon was humming continuously. He gave the vase a tap and the rosin shell fell off in two pieces. He gasped at the glow of the colors, never expecting such magnificence. Even through the dull coat from the wax could he see the brilliance emanating around the small room. He quickly took a rag and very delicately cleaned it, now singing at the top of his voice. He stopped and realized he never sang; as a matter of fact Sela always scolded him and said that his voice was just not really the best in the world. How odd, but wonderful, he thought. He smiled and rubbed his beard. He continued cleaning until the vase was completely clear of rosin, clay, or dirt. Then he took some oil and polished it, giving it its original glow, and then wiped it dry. Simeon had been at it for hours. When he finished he stared at its beauty. He carefully turned it over and saw a Chinese signature and markings. “Whoever you were, my friend, you were a masterful artist. I will try to find someone who can translate what you wrote and what piece of history was brought into my life.” Simeon took the vase into the house. He quietly walked into the dark living room and, as if guided, placed the vase on the piano. Exhausted, he went to bed and immediately fell asleep.
Simeon was awakened by a scream. He th
rew his robe over his pajamas and rushed downstairs.
“What is it? What’s wrong?” He asked, as Sela ran up to him. He lifted her effortlessly and hugged her tightly.
“You remembered! You remembered!” She squealed with delight.
Simeon was still half asleep. “Remembered what?”
“Oh, Daddy, you know, my birthday.”
Simeon reacted quickly. “You thought I forgot, didn’t you?”
“No, I knew you wouldn’t forget. And I love my gift!”
“You do?” At this Simeon was puzzled. What gift had he given her? “Uh, where is it?”
“Oh, Daddy, you are so silly,” she said giggling. She pointed to the piano. The sun had just come up and was shining into the house. It seemed that all the rays focused on the vase, making rainbows everywhere in the room. He gasped. The vase was almost blinding.
“It’s very beautiful,” Sela said, almost timidly.
“But nothing as beautiful as you, my darling.”
“Oh, Daddy, you’re the best Daddy in the whole world.” She hugged her father as best she could with her little arms. “But are we still going to have the party?” She asked worriedly.
The party? Oh, he had almost forgotten. “Of course, little lady. You will have the grown-up party, just as you requested,” he answered.
The crème de la crème of Alexandria’s elite gathered at the Vidalis mansion. The ladies came in their most elegant gowns and showed off their exquisite jewelry. The single women vied for his attention—Simeon was one of the most eligible bachelors in town. The men, in dinner jackets and bowties, would never have turned down this invitation. They knew that anyone who was anyone was present, and that the best business deals could be made at these parties. Tonight was special—it was Sela’s sixth birthday and they were happy to celebrate with her. She was adored by everyone. At her tender age, she was already a splendid hostess. She greeted each guest and showed them into the large living room. She was not a typical child; rather she was more like a very young teenager. She preferred the company of people older than she was, much older. She liked adults best and found them more entertaining and interesting. She knew they were smarter, but considered that nothing but a challenge. They dined and laughed and always remembered to include her in their conversations. Children her age were boring and immature, she thought, and she really didn’t have any friends from her own age group.
