The Jealous

by Laury Silvers

“Not necessarily. But,” he conceded, “it is a helpful observation all the same. Ammar said he believes that the Imam’s brother, Isam, is in love with the widow. He could have killed the Imam and tried to end the pregnancy for her sake. The brother’s medication is too weak to do the job, so he had to have purchased the poison somewhere in the city. I hope Tein can find out.” Mustafa’s face lit up as he realized, “If the judge knows about the attempt to abort, it would help us argue that there is doubt over her guilt. Yes! Even if Tein never finds out, her case might be dropped.”

  Qambar said again with certainty, “There will be justice.”

  There was movement in the passageway, and they all turned around. Tein was nearly carrying Saliha in, her face deathly pale and she was holding a bandaged arm across her chest.

  Zaytuna got up and ran to her. “Saliha!”

  “She’s alright,” Tein said. “We’ve been to the hospital.” He looked at Saliha. “She fell on some broken glass. The doctor sewed it up.”

  “Yulduz,” Saliha said weakly, “I want you to look at it.”

  Yulduz was already standing and Qambar behind her. “Let me see it.”

  Tein and Yulduz helped Saliha sit down. Yulduz kneeled beside her.

  Zaytuna pulled Tein away. “What happened?”

  “What I said.”

  “How is it that you’re with her? You were meant to be investigating who could have sold them belladonna.”

  Layla stood behind Zaytuna, listening closely.

  “It went further afield than that. I’ll need to tell Ammar and Ibn Salah.”

  Mustafa stepped forward, “You can tell me. I will pass it on.”

  Zaytuna looked between the two, “You can also tell me!”

  They both huffed in her direction at once.

  Answering Mustafa, Tein ignored her, “I made no progress on the poisons, but I think we can rule out his death being due to a gambling debt or his use of prostitutes. That’s something.”

  “I was just leaving to find you. Ammar is at Ibn Salah’s home preparing for tomorrow. Maybe you should come with me?”

  Mustafa walked to the passageway without saying goodbye to Zaytuna while Tein pushed past her to kneel before Saliha. She watched Mustafa’s back as he disappeared. She held still or she would run after him say every single solitary thing that needed to be said and not stop. She felt something tugging on her, she looked down.

  Layla said, “Auntie, don’t worry. You and I will go ask about poisons tomorrow. They’ll tell us what they would never tell him.”

  Zaytuna’s fury at the men found its object in Layla. She said coldly and with precision, “No you will not. You are not going to help me do anything of the sort. You are going to go home to Maryam. You are not coming by tomorrow. In fact, do not come back at all.”

  Layla’s face crumbled, tears coming, “Not even for my lesson?”

  “No.” Zaytuna stood up, pulling Layla’s hand off of her wrap and watched Tein leave in turn to catch up with Mustafa without so much as a word to her. Layla ran past him, pushing Tein so she could get into the passageway first. He stepped back to give way and looked at Zaytuna, gesturing to ask what was wrong with the girl. Zaytuna raised a shoulder to him, shrugging, and turned around to check on Saliha herself.

  Yulduz had unwrapped the bandage and was clucking at the wound, “I hate to say it, but the doctor’s done a fine job.” She looked at Saliha. “Leave it for today. I’ll get what’s needed for a poultice tomorrow.” Yulduz rewrapped the wound and said to Qambar, “Get some dates, she needs some sweetness in her. And get a cup, I want her to drink this broth.”

  Zaytuna offered, “I have dates.”

  He waved her off. “No, we have some. You sit.”

  Zaytuna kneeled down. “What really happened, Saliha?”

  Saliha smiled, but said weakly, “I helped Tein investigate at the nahariyya where Imam Hashim went.”

  Zaytuna tried not to overreact. “That wasn’t safe, why would he?”

  “I made him, Zay. Don’t be angry.”

  Yulduz gave Zaytuna a hard look. “Can’t this wait?”

  Zaytuna nodded, but her mind was working. What are these men thinking? What are the lives of women to them? First Mustafa admits he’s just like the rest of those filthy scholars who think women are nothing but meat for their pleasure. Now Tein leads Saliha into danger. He used her, and now look what’s happened.

  Saliha laughed lightly. “Oh Zaytuna, I can see your thoughts.”

  Zaytuna reached across and touched her good arm. “I’m sorry. I’m just worried about you.”

  “Zay, I found things out, things that helped. It was exciting.” She held up her arm. “It’s nothing. I’ll be fine. Yulduz will make sure of it.”

  Yulduz puffed up at that and gave a brisk nod.

  Despite everything, there was a glint in Saliha’s eye. “Let me tell you what happened.”

  Zaytuna looked at Yulduz. “May she?”

  Qambar came out with a cup and the dates, handed them to Yulduz, and left the women to each other.

  “She can after she’s had some broth,” she answered, filling the cup.

  Saliha took the cup and sipped from it gratefully while Zaytuna watched every sip, waiting for her to finish and speak.

  Finally Saliha said, “The woman I was washing the day Imam Hashim died, she was a prostitute that Imam Hashim used regularly. Her sisters at the nahariyya believe that he killed her with a curse because she was asking for money to support her boy.” She looked between the two women. “You can’t tell anyone this. Please, Yulduz, not even Marta.”

  Yulduz nodded, but Zaytuna wasn’t sure she’d be able to hold to it.

  “She died of a tumour. It was as big as a baby.” Saliha started to weep, “Poor woman.”

  Yulduz put her arm around her, tugging her gently into her arms. “God have mercy on her soul.”

  “Amin.”

  Saliha wiped her eyes. “The women there said the Imam told them he had his slave curse her and afterwards she grew the tumour. They meant Mu’mina. They believe she performed the curse.”

  “What?”

  “He had to be lying. He said she was jealous of him seeing women there.”

  Zaytuna raised her eyebrows. “She wouldn’t be. Never.”

  Saliha nodded.

  Yulduz took the empty cup from her and filled it again from the pot, “What else?”

  Saliha said, “They hated him. All of them, but especially one of them who was closest to the woman who died. Maybe she killed him, Zaytuna, but I don’t know how she could. If it was poison, Tein said he would have had to eaten right before he died and he was at home.”

  “So then Tein’s right, it can’t be due to prostitutes or gambling.” She took Saliha’s good hand. “You eliminated two possibilities. That’s so important. But most important, you are alright.”

  The Sixth Day

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Yulduz brushed her robe one more time and placed her cap on her head, “I’m ready for the court, now.”

  Qambar said, “You’re sure you don’t need me to come with you.”

  She used her thumb to point to Zaytuna, “This one is coming with me. You stay here with Saliha.”

  “I’m fine,” Saliha objected. “I don’t need anyone to watch over me.”

  “I agree with Yulduz for once. But you need to rest. Qambar will get whatever you need.” Zaytuna gestured to the water basin. “I don’t want you so much as touching that bucket over there.”

  Saliha smiled and pulled her wool wrap around her. “Alright, Aunties.”

  Yulduz took hold of Zaytuna’s wrist. “Yalla, as you Arabs say.”

  Zaytuna winced at being called an Arab, but Yulduz pulled her through the passageway before she could snap at her. In one moment, they were out in the alley, walking as quickly as they could out of the neighbourhood. Through the morning fog, she could just see a young girl walking towards them.

  Yulduz asked, �
�Is that...?”

  Layla called out, “Aunties!”

  “We don’t have time for this, Zaytuna.”

  When she reached them, Zaytuna demanded, “What are you doing here?”

  Layla said in a tone as if yesterday had not ever happened, “I told Auntie Maryam I wasn’t coming to work today.”

  Zaytuna replied with a calm that belied her frustration, “Walk with us, or we’ll be late.”

  The girl ran beside them. “I’m going to investigate the poisons. They won’t tell Uncle Tein, but they’ll tell me. I know how to ask. I can make something up. How would they know that I am actually working for the police?”

  Zaytuna lost her patience, stopped, and grabbed her by the arm. “Ya Rabb! You are not working for the police!”

  Yulduz had kept walking, then turned back when she realized they weren’t beside her, “Come now! What is she saying?”

  Pulling Layla ahead with her, Zaytuna answered, “The girl wants to investigate the poisons!”

  “Let her!” Yulduz said, “She could find something. This little one is wily. She won’t get hurt.”

  “The two of you!” Zaytuna exclaimed.

  Yulduz said sharply, “Come!”

  As Zaytuna caught up with Yulduz, Layla on her heels, she said to the girl, “And what did you tell Auntie Maryam to take the day off?”

  “I said I had to help you today with laundry.”

  Zaytuna stopped. “You lied to her, again. You’ll lose your place.”

  “What do I care?” Layla protested, “I’ll come live with you.”

  “I thought you were going to marry a smith’s helper.”

  Layla’s face turned bright red. “I don’t need him, I’ll take care of myself!”

  Zaytuna looked down at her. “In one night you go from loving this boy as if he is the whole of your life, to you not needing him. What happened?”

  Layla avoided Zaytuna’s eye. “I asked him if he would wait.”

  Zaytuna huffed. “He said, ‘No’?”

  She didn’t answer.

  “You better not be in any trouble with Auntie Maryam.” She put her hands on her hips and looked around the neighbourhood. The shops were starting to open and people were coming out into the street. Yulduz was far ahead. “Go back to Auntie Maryam’s, now.” Zaytuna turned her back on the girl and left her standing in the road.

  Layla yelled after her in a sing-song voice, “Whatever you say!” Then she stomped off making her way directly to the herbalists closest to where Imam Hashim lived. They don’t even know that I found out where he lived. Did Uncle Tein look here? He probably didn’t even look here!

  It was early yet, but the stalls were open except for a few here and there. She stood in front of the first shop she saw, and placed her hands on the sill, her chin just sticking out over it. A wrinkled Jewish woman, wearing a honey-yellow and blue striped turban with sprigs of dried flowers sticking out of the folds stood up to greet her. The woman’s eyes crinkled at seeing the little girl standing before her. “Assalamu alaykum, dear one, what can I do for you?”

  “Walaykum assalam, Auntie, I hope you are well.”

  “Alhamdulillah, and are you well?”

  “Alhamdulillah.”

  “What do you need?”

  “Oh! Yes! Auntie, I am sorry. The family I work for need some medicine. They told me where to go but I forgot. I have to go ask from shop to shop where to find them!”

  “My goodness, are they alright?”

  She smiled, replying cheerfully, “Inshallah!”

  “What is the medicine?”

  Layla scrunched her face. “It is…it is…Oh! Auntie, I forgot!”

  The old woman leaned over, smiling. “Well, what is the medicine for?”

  Scratching her head, she said sorrowfully, “Auntie, I forgot that, too.” She started to sniffle as if she were going to cry.

  The old woman patted her on the head. “Now, daughter, no need for tears, we’ll sort this all out. What can you remember?”

  Layla looked up, hope in her eyes. “They were very strong herbs. I know belladonna was one.”

  “Does the lady of your house shake sometimes? She falls to the ground and cannot control herself?”

  She didn’t know, but thought she might as well agree, “Yes, she does.”

  “Belladonna is used for that sometimes, but in very small doses. I would never give belladonna to a woman without talking to her first. It can make her lose her baby if she is pregnant. Is she an old woman?”

  Layla hedged, “Not young, not old.”

  “I would take care giving most treatments to a younger woman just to be careful, I think you’ll need to go back and ask exactly what they were.”

  “Oh, but they’ll be angry.”

  “But if you bring home the wrong thing, you could hurt her.”

  “Alright Auntie,” her shoulders slumped, “but I think I am going to ask around a bit first.”

  “I understand sweet one, but I don’t think anyone here will help unless they know exactly what it was, or,” her eyes lit up, “who it is! Why didn’t I think of the first? Tell me her name, I will have her written down in my book and I will know exactly what was prescribed.”

  Why hadn’t she thought of that, they’d want a name! Layla scrambled for a response, then jumped up and down. “Oh! Auntie, I remember where to go now. Thank you! May God reward you!” She ran off without a look behind.

  She couldn’t go to the next herbal shop, or she might see her, so she ran past two and went to the third. A man wearing a quilted leather cap and a closely cropped beard bent over to her.

  “Assalamu alaykum, what can I get for you?”

  Layla grasped the sill of the counter with both hands. “Wa alaykum assalam, Uncle. The lady I work for ran out of her medicine. But I forgot what it was exactly and forgot who she said she bought it from. I know it was either belladonna or…”

  The man patted her on the hand. “Sweet one, just give me her name. I will look her up in my book.”

  She had thought of an answer this time, “Madam Aisha.”

  “I’ll need her full name to check. I have many Aishas on my list.”

  Then she suddenly realized giving just any name wouldn’t help. She scolded herself, Auntie Zaytuna wouldn’t make this mistake!

  He watched her thinking and squinted his eyes. “You cannot remember the full name of the woman you work for?”

  Layla realized she’d be caught out and said quickly, “Oh! No! I just remembered where she bought it!” She ran off again yelling behind her, “Thank you, Uncle!”

  Layla ran until she found a tiny square, small enough to be covered by a roof of reed matting, letting in spots and slats of morning light to the ground. There was a tree at the centre and a hole had been cut for the trunk so that its branches reached out through the matting and above it to the sun. Layla noticed a curve in the trunk from two big roots reaching out. It was as if the roots made a chair that could hold a person, so she settled down into it to have a think.

  She looked at her feet sticking out from her sirwal, dirty and rough from always walking barefoot. She didn’t need the sandals that Auntie Maryam had bought her, but she liked them. They were still new, and she admired the straps and imagined her feet clean and pretty without the callouses that made them look like goat hooves.

  Haftiar only wanted to marry her to take care of his mother. She was nothing more than a servant girl with hooves for feet. She had run to him last night and told him what Zaytuna had said. He just shrugged and said, “What’s wrong with that? My mother needs help. It’s her time to rest.”

  Layla didn’t wait to hear any more. She fled into the street, her eyes stinging with tears. She ran through the marketplace and over the Thorn Bridge meaning to see Auntie Zaytuna, then turned back. She’d just say, “I told you so,” so she went to Auntie Maryam instead. But she would not be happy, even when she heard the outcome. She would not tell her. Once through the gate, she went t
o the well to get water to wash her feet before going inside. The door was shut to the kitchen, but she knew Auntie Maryam was there. She commanded herself, Don’t tell her a thing!

  But as soon as Layla got inside and saw the old woman sitting in her spot by the fire, she spilled the whole story out in Maryam’s arms. When Maryam had understood the gist of it, she stood, spilling Layla to the floor. Grabbing her by the arm, she pulled Layla up to her feet again. Maryam swung and swung again with her free hand, hitting her hard on her backside and when Layla tucked in so Maryam couldn’t reach it, Maryam slapped her on the back of the head. All the while saying, “After all that trouble you made with Zayd! After all that and you are still after boys! What have you done? There better not be a baby in all this! Lord! What did I tell you, girl! What did I tell you!”

  That night, Layla did not cry. Not one bit. She had a headache, her arm was bruised, and she was going to have to sleep on her side, but she vowed she’d leave there the next day and go live with Auntie Zaytuna. She was mean, but that’s because she didn’t see that she could help. Auntie Zaytuna would want her after she found out who bought the poison. Layla packed up her things, including her new sandals, wrapping it all up in scrap fabric and hid it by the well.

  She left the next morning, making sure her things were still hidden by the well so she could sneak back and get them later. Now Layla sat in the crook-chair of the tree and took stock. Auntie Maryam did not want her. Haftiar only wanted her to clean up after his mother and cook him food. Now, Auntie Zaytuna wouldn’t want her once she knew she couldn’t solve the mystery.

  What good was she to anyone? She looked at her dirty hooves and gave the question some thought. She was good for helping with the laundry, cleaning the house, and cooking, and, later, taking care of other people’s children. Time to grow up. There would be no more “putting on airs,” like Maryam scolded her whenever she covered her face like the rich girls. She stood up from her spot in the tree, dusted herself off, and rearranged her wrap. She didn’t care if anyone saw her. She wound her wrap under her arms, like a working woman, throwing the long end loosely over her head and caught in one arm, her face uncovered, and walked the longest possible way back to Imam Ibrahim’s house to apologize to Auntie Maryam.