Nightmare in Morocco (11 page)

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Authors: Loretta Jackson,Vickie Britton

BOOK: Nightmare in Morocco
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"It won't!
Ever!"
His pale face lit in gratitude. "And let me tell you something else, I won't be hanging around your niece anymore!"

* * *

The thirteen tour members showed up at the bus even before the scheduled departure time, as if anxious to get on to Rabat
.
Noa wondered, since absolutely no picture came to mind when she thought of Rabat, why she had such qualms concerning the day, their eventual arriving
.
Perhaps it was enough that it would bring her one day closer to the medina at Fez where she had been lost as a child.

Taber, handsome in a white t shirt and jeans, was the last to board
.
As Taber entered the bus, he bent to lift a glistening trinket from the floor
.
Noa recognized it at once.

"I bought that in the medina yesterday," she said
.
"It must have fallen out of my pocket."

Taber seated himself beside her, studying the pendant on the heavy chain, the outline of five fingers filled inside with crude, round circles
.
The
craftsmanship
was primitive, but the effect appealing, none the less.

"A good choice," Taber said
.
"You should wear it around your neck
.
The Hand of Fatimah has the power, you know, to protect you from the evil eye."

"I could use some good luck today."
Noa
felt Taber lift her hair away
.
His fingers were warm against her neck as he fastened the clasp to the necklace
.
"There
.
That should hold
.
The chain is nice and sturdy."

Noa glanced at the charm.
A
tiny silver handprint against her white cotton blouse
.
"It's such a
stylized
hand," she observed.

"That's to avoid the impiety of a graven image."

"Tell me more about the charm."

"Fatimah was the wife of the Prophet Mohammed
.
Her hand has the power to arrest the evil eye, which is responsible for all bad
occurrences
. See this?"
He indicated a tiny, ceramic bead that dangled from the palm of the magic symbol
.

"It looks like an eye."

"Right
.
This eye returns the evil curse back to the sender."

"I hope no one has put a curse on me," Noa replied.

Taber's gaze deepened into hers
.
"If so, the Hand of Fatimah will surely protect you
.
To the Moslems, it is a sacred religious symbol."

The bus pulled away from the hotel and traveled a narrow, straight road that seemed to stretch ahead endlessly
.
Taber soon pointed out a skull propped on a stick in a garden they passed
.
"The skull of the donkey is also supposed to avert evil
.
But it is only a local superstition."

"Do the country folk really believe in its power?"

Eyes, almost black, lighted with amusement
.
"Do you really believe that the number thirteen is unlucky?"

"That depends."

"Depends on what?" Taber asked.

"Upon how the rest of this tour goes."

Taber smiled again
.
"By the way, Noa," he said in a teasing manner. "If an animal or other creature should call you by name, on no account answer."

"I had no intention of answering."

"Good
.
It's almost certain to be a
j
inni
, a spirit that can possess even people
.
You've heard of what you call genies?
But don't think they are all good."

"Thanks for the tip
.
I wouldn't dream of trusting one."
Usually Noa was anxious to begin talking to the group, but today she wasn't
.
Perhaps it was because she wanted to remain beside Taber
.
She rose and adjusted her microphone and began her speech, feeling a little nervous
.
"This time Rabat will be just a
stopover
on our way to Fez
.
We will return there and spend three full days."

No cause for nervousness, Noa thought, glancing around
.
Cathy was sound asleep and the seven girls, only because of Marie Landos, remained grudgingly attentive
.
Belda and Milton Ward carried on their own sometimes very loud conversation, and Greg divided his time between Noa's talk and gazing toward the distant outline of the Rif Mountains
.

"Rabat is one of the four imperial cities and the main capitol
.
The name goes back to a fortified, tenth century monastery, a
ribat
."

Noa was flattered that a woman with the scope of Marie Landos would bother to write down the information she was giving, but Moulay surprised her more by his active
participation
in her lecture.

"Look over there," he said in his deep, heavily accented voice
.
He indicated a field where two horses, tied to a circular wheel, threshed wheat
.
"Just like they worked in ancient times
.
I hate poverty!"
Moulay's voice lowered and burned with the hated he spoke of
.
"I despise seeing my people living so primitively!"

They arrived in the capitol city after dinner
.
Noa distributed keys for rooms, then she lingered in the hotel lobby.

"I know a precious place here in Rabat!" Belda Ward approached her
.
"Some old ruins
.
Very few people get out to see them!
I'm going out there right away!
Milton won't go with me
.
Says he's played out
.
You wouldn't believe he's eleven years younger than I am!"

"Aren't you tired after the long drive?"

"I'm perfectly rested and ready for some footwork!
I've already talked Johnny into taking me out there in the hotel car
.
He's agreed to leave me out there to do some exploring and pick me up an hour later."

"Are you going alone?"

"My dear,"
Belda said, "I was single until I was fifty seven!
I've been a number of places alone
.
And I like it that way
.
My first husband died shortly after we were married
.
He was in politics
.
Didn't think I wanted to marry anyone again, then a year ago, here comes Milton!"

"Is he in politics, too?"

"Goodness, no!
He's spent all of his life and a fortune trying to establish himself as a painter, which he never did
.
You could see for yourself why if you ever laid eyes on his work!
I don't kid him
.
I tell him right out, they're just terrible
.
I said, `You should have gone into politics!'
But nothing discourages him!"
She paused for a quick intake of breath,
"But he's a dear!
Even though he couldn't plan and carry out an afternoon picnic!"

"Would you mind if I came along with you?"

"Of course not!"
Belda checked her watch
.
"I'm going to change
.
I told Johnny twenty minutes
.
Bring your camera!"

Belda, wearing pleated, khaki slacks and a blouse with huge, yellow flowers, waited impatiently at the entrance
.
She hadn't taken time to brush back the short, gray hair and now stuffed flying locks under a cap she had
probably borrowed from Milton.

"That nice boy, Greg, has been looking for you
.
I didn't tell him you were coming with me, or he would steal you right away!
He reminds me of my first husband, except he has loads of hair and William had none
.
Come on
.
Let's wait outside."

"What do you think of Taber?"

"Handsome, for sure!
Too handsome!
And those Moroccans have more than one wife, remember that!
You had best stick with Greg."

"Taber hasn't any
wives
," Noa smiled.

"You think he doesn't
.
But look at Moulay Aziz
.
He has two wives in Casablanca, living three blocks from one another!
Here's our car now!"

An angry, sullen look flickered across Johnny's face as Noa slid into the back seat beside Belda, but he said nothing.

After leaving the city, a narrow, empty road followed the ocean for a few miles, then wound inland
.
Soon they left the highway altogether unto a scarcely visible trail, which a mile or two later at the base of a great bluff came to an abrupt end. "Come back for us in an hour, Johnny," Belda said, and slipped him a
bill. Belda
bolted out, started at once to climb the steep slope ahead
.
A faint trail was evident through the grass and rocks
.
"Come on, Noa!"
As Noa followed, she heard the spinning of tires as Johnny pulled away in a careless manner he had never dared use while driving the tour bus
.

The air was uncomfortably hot and very still
.
The car's quick departure left a profound quiet
.
Noa had expected ruins thick with tourists, not this total isolation
.
How could she have allowed Belda to come out here after what had
happened
at the medina?
Noa glanced back as the car sped rapidly unto the distant highway, and she felt afraid.

Belda's lithe step had placed her far ahead
.
She stopped midway to snap pictures
.
"Now one of you with all those little shacks clustered down there!" she cried.

Noa looked back
.
Sunlight glared against the white of the tiny houses built on hillsides that sloped toward the ocean. One of the small homes set by itself where the land leveled and she could see activity around it
.
The inspiring view eased some of her anxiety.

She continued her climb
.
Along the top of the rise ruined outlines of a once great wall rose and fell
.
In places rubble piled in great stacks,
topped
with huge, gray stones that were parts of long fallen columns.

"Dear," Belda said, "the world is filled with such majesty!
Just to have eyes and ears for one single afternoon!
What a blessing!"

Silence around them changed slowly from fearful to pleasant
.
Noa felt between Belda Ward and she a compatible nature.

"This is why I love being a tour guide," Noa confided.

"I would have loved it, too."

After a while Belda started again to climb upward again.

"Watch your step!"
Noa cautioned.

Belda soon reached the great stack of rubble and stopped to study a huge rock embedded in dirt
.
Noa joined her, running a hand across the relief carving in ochre colored stone
.
"Definitely Moorish," she said
.
"The Romans did not use that sort of geometric design."

"Wait a minute
.
I want to get another picture of it
.
From below."

Slowly, now, they made their way over rubble and down into a great area where the earth was sunken and grass covered.

"I always tell Milton, `You have to use imagination.'
Not that he has any
.
But I tell him, nothing is ever exciting or good or even bearable, if you don't imagine!"
Belda drew in her breath quickly, hazel eyes shining
.
"Just think for a moment what this great
Kasbah
would have been like!"

Belda circled the area, then followed the wall to a hollowed place under thick rocks where the glare of sunlight never penetrated
.
She seated herself on a low rock, Noa, on the ground, back against cool stone.

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