Speak Bird Speak Again (43 page)

"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 married 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.

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, straight 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.

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."