A Fire in the Sun (30 page)

"I took my chicken to one of the men and told him I

wanted to sell it, and he looked at it and shook his head. 4

'This chicken has lost all it's teeth," he says.      f

"So I looked at it, and by Allah, he was right. That

chicken didn't have a tooth in its head. So I says, 'What

will you give me for it?' And the man gave me a handful of

copper fiqs.   j

"Then I walked home with one hand in my pocket and my other hand holding the copper fiqs. Just when I was crossing the bridge over the drainage canal, there was this fierce swarm of gnats. I started waving my hands and swatting them, and then I ran the rest of the way across : the bridge. When I got to the other side, I looked and I saw that I didn't have the money anymore. I'd dropped all the coins into the canal."

Fuad coughed quietly. "Can I have a glass of beer,  I

Marîd?" he asked. "I'm getting real thirsty."         I

I signaled to Indihar to draw one. "You paying for this,   f Fuad?" I said. His long face fell further. He looked like a puppy about to get a beating. "Just kidding," I said. "The beer's on the house. I want to hear how this story comes out."

Indihar set a mug in front of him, then stood around to hear the rest of the story. "Bismillah," murmured Fuad, and he took a long gulp. Then he set the beer down, gave me a quick, thankful grimace, and started again. "Anyway," he said, "when I got home, my mama was real mad. I didn't have no chicken and I didn't have no money. 'Next time,' she says, 'put it in your pocket.'

" 'Ah,' I go, 'I should have thought of that.' So the next morning, my mama wakes me up and tells me to take another chicken to the souk. Well, I got dressed and went out and chased them around some more and caught one and carried it down the hill and up the hill and across the bridge and through the streets to the souk. And this time I didn't stand in the hot sun all morning and all afternoon. I went right up to the merchant and showed him the second chicken.

" 'This one looks as bad as the one you brought yesterday,' he says. 'And besides, I'll have to provide space far ft here in my stall all day. But I'll tell you what IH do. H give you a big jug of honey in trade. It's very fine honey.*"

"Well, it was a good trade because my mama had four other chickens, but she didn't have no honey. So I took the jug of honey from him and started home. I'd just crossed the bridge when I remembered what my mama told me. I opened the jug and poured the honey in my pocket. By the time I climbed the last hill, it was all gone.

"So my mama was real mad again. 'Next time,' she says, 'balance it on your head:'

" 'Ah,' I go, 'I should have thought of that.' On the third morning, I got up and caught another chicken, and carried it to the souk and brought it to the merchant.

" 'Are all your chickens in such bad shape?' he says. 'Well, in the name of Allah, I will give you my supper for this bird.' And the merchant gave me a mess of curds and whey.

"Well, I remembered what my mama told me, and I balanced it on my head. I went through the streets and across the bridge and down the hill and up the hill. When I got home, my mama asked me what I got for the chicken. 'Enough curds and whey for our evening meal,' I go.

" Then where is it?' she says.

" 'On my head,' I go. She took one look and dragged me to the washstand. She poured a whole pitcher of cold water over my head and scrubbed my hair with a stiff brush. All the time she was shouting and blaming me for losing the curds and whey.

" 'Next time, carry it carefully in your hands,' she says.

" 'Ah,' I go, T should have thought of that.' So the next morning, very early before the sun came up, I went out to the chicken coop and chose the nicest, fattest chicken that was left. I left the house before my mama woke up, and I carried the chicken down the hill and through the streets to the Souk of the Poultry Dressers.

" 'Good morning, my friend,' says the merchant. 'I see you have another aged, toothless chicken.'

" This is a very nice chicken,' I go, 'and I want what it's worth and nothing less.'

"The merchant looked at the chicken closely and mumbled to himself. 'You know,' he says at last, 'these feathers are stuck on very tight.'

" 'Isn't that how they're supposed to be?' I go.

"He pointed to a row of dead chickens with their heads cut off. 'See any feathers on these?'

" 'No,' I go.

" 'Ever eat a roast chicken with feathers?'

" 'No,' I go.

" Then I'm sorry. It will cost me much time and labor to unstick all these feathers. I can only offer you this big fierce tomcat.'

"I thought that was a good trade, because the tomcat would catch the mice and rats that crept into the coop and stole the chicken feed. I remembered what my mama had told me, and I tried to carry the tomcat carefully in my hands. Just after I went down the hill and before I went up the hill, the tomcat snarled and spit and squirmed and scratched until I couldn't hold him any longer. He jumped out of my hands and ran away.

"I knew my mama was gonna be mad again. 'Next time,' she says, 'tie him with a string and pull him behind you.'

" 'Ah,' I go, 'I should have thought of that.' Now, there's only two chickens left, so it took me longer to catch one the next morning, even though I didn't even care which one it was. When I got to the souk, the merchant was very glad to see me.

" 'Praise Allah that we are both well this morning,' he says, smiling at me. 'I see you have a chicken.'

" 'Yeah, you right,' I go. I laid the chicken on the warped board he used for a counter.

"The merchant picked up the chicken and weighed it in his hands, and thumped it with his finger like you'd thump a melon. 'This chicken doesn't lay eggs, does it?' he asks.

" 'Sure, it lays eggs! It's the best egg-laying hen my mama ever had.'

"The man shook his head and frowned. 'You see,' he says, 'that's a problem. Every egg this chicken lays, that's less meat on its bones. This mightVe been a nice heavy chicken if it hadn't laid no eggs. It's a good thing you brought it to me now, before it shrunk away to nothing.' " 'All the eggs ought to be worth something,' I go.

" 'I don't see no eggs. I'll tell you what I'll do. I'll trade you this killed, cleaned chicken ready to eat for your egg-laying chicken. You won't find a better deal than that from any of these other poultry dressers. Once they hear this chicken is such a good egg-layer, they won't give you two copper fiqs.'

"I was just glad this man had taken a liking to me, because he was telling me things none of the other merchants would've told me. So I traded my worthless egg-layer for his dressed chicken, even though to me it looked a little scrawny and smelled funny and was kind of the wrong color. I remembered what my mama told me, so I tied a string around it and pulled it along behind me as I walked home.

"You should've heard my mama yelling at me when I got home! That poor plucked chicken was completely ruined. 'By the life of my eyes!' she shouted. 'You are the biggest fool in all the lands of Islam! Next time, carry it on your shoulder!'

" 'Ah,' I go, 'I should have thought of that.'

"So there was one chicken left, and I promised myself that I was gonna get the better of the deal the next day. Again I didn't wait for my mama to wake me. I rose early, scrubbed my face and hands, put on my best suit of clothes, and went out to the coop. It took me an hour to catch that last chicken, which had always been my mama's favorite. It's name was Mouna. Finally I got my hands on its thrashing, flapping body. I carried it out of the chicken coop, down the hill, up the hill, across the bridge, through the streets to the souk.

"But this morning the poultry dresser was not in his stall. I stood there for several minutes, wondering where my friend could be. Finally, a girl came up to me. She was dressed as a modest Muslim woman should be dressed, and I couldn't see her face because of the veil; but when she spoke, I knew from her voice that she probably was the most beautiful girl I'd ever met."

"You can get yourself in a lot of trouble that way," I told Fuad. "I've made the mistake of falling in love over the telephone. More than once."

He frowned at the interruption and went on. "She was probably the most beautiful girl I'd ever met. Any-

way, she says, 'Are you the gentleman who has been trading his chickens with my father every morning?'

"I go, 'I'm not sure. I don't know who your father is. Is this his poultry stall?' She says it is. I go, Then I'm that gentleman, and I have our last chicken right here. Where's your father this morning?'

"Big bright tears collect in the corners of her eyes. She looks up at me with a pitiful expression on her face, at least the part of it I can see. 'My father is desperately ill,' she says. 'The doctor doesn't expect him to live through the day.'

"Well, I was shocked by the news. 'May Allah have mercy on your father, and grant him health. If he dies, I'll have to sell my chicken to someone else today."

"The girl didn't say anything for a moment. I don't think she really cared what happened to my chicken. At last she said, 'My father sent me here this morning to find you. His conscience is troubling him. He says that he traded unfairly with you, and he wishes to make up for it before he is called to the bosom of Allah. He begs that you accept his donkey, the very donkey that faithfully pulled my father's cart for ten years."

"I was a little suspicious about this offer. After all, I didn't know this girl as well as I knew her father. 'Let me

fet this straight," I go. 'You want to trade your fine donkey for this chicken?'

" 'Yes,' she says.

" Til have to think it over. It's our last chicken, you know.' I thought about it and thought about it, but I couldn't see anything that would make my mama mad. I was sure that finally she'd be happy about one of my trades. 'All right,' I go, and I grabbed the donkey's rope halter. Take the chicken, and tell your father that I will pray for his well-being. May he return tomorrow to his stall in this souk, inshallah.'

" 'Inshallah,' the girl says, and she lowered her eyes to the ground. She went away with my mama's last chicken, and I never saw her again. I think about her a lot, though, because she's probably the only woman I'll ever love."

"Yeah, you right," I said, laughing. Fuad has this thing for mean hookers, the kind who carry straight razors. You can find him every night over at the Red Light Lounge,

Fatima and Nassir's place. Nobody else I know even has the guts to go in there alone. Fuad spends a lot of time in there, falling in love and getting ripped off.

"Anyway," he said, "I started leading the donkey home, when I remembered what my mama told me. So I strained and pushed and lifted until I got that donkey to my shoulders. I got to admit, I really didn't know why my mama wanted me to carry it that way, when it could walk by itself just as well as I could. Still, I didn't want her mad at me anymore.

"I staggered toward home with the donkey across my back, and as I climbed down the hill, I passed the beautiful walled palace of Shaykh Salman Mubarak. Now, you know Shaykh Salman lived in that great mansion with his beautiful daughter, who was sixteen years old and had never laughed from the time she'd been born. She had never even smiled. She could talk all right, but she just didn't. Nobody, not even her wealthy father, had ever heard her say a single word since the shaykh's wife, the girl's mother, had died when the girl was three years old. The doctors said that if anyone could make her laugh, she'd be able to speak again; or if anyone could make her speak, she'd then laugh as any normal person might. Shaykh Salman had made the usual offers of riches and his daughter's hand in marriage, but suitor after suitor had tried and failed. The girl just sat glumly by the window, watching the world pass by below.

"That's when I happened to walk by carrying the donkey. It must have looked pretty weird, upside down on my back with its hooves waving in the air. I was told later that the shaykh's beautiful daughter stared at me and the donkey for a few seconds, and then burst out into a helpless fit of laughter. She recovered her speech then too, because she called loudly for her father to come look. The shaykh was so grateful, he ran out into the road to meet me."

"Did he give you his daughter?" asked Indihar.

"You bet," said Fuad.

"How romantic," she said.

"And when I married her, I became the richest man in the city after the shaykh himself. And my mother was quite pleased, and didn't mind that she had no chickens

left at all. She came to live with my wife and me in the shaykh's palace."

I sighed. "How much of that was true, Fuad?" I asked.

"Oh," he said, "I forgot a part. It turns out that the shaykh was really the poultry dresser, who went to the souk every morning. I don't remember the reason why. And so the veiled girl was just as beautiful as I thought she'd be."

Indihar' reached over and grabbed Fuad's half-full mug of beer. She raised it to her lips and finished it off. "I thought the poultry dresser was dying," she said.

Fuad frowned in serious thought. "Yeah, well, he was, see, but when he heard his daughter laughing and calling his name, he was miraculously healed."

"All praise to Allah, Fount of blessings," I said.

"I made up that part about Shaykh Salman and his beautiful daughter," said Fuad.

"Uh huh," said Indihar. "You and your mama really raise chickens?"

"Oh sure," he said eagerly, "but we don't got any right at the moment."

"Because you traded them?"

"I told my mama we should start again with younger chickens that still got their teeth."

"Thank God, I have to go mop up the spilled beer," said Indihar. She went back behind the bar.

I drained the last of my White Death. After Fuad's story, I wanted three or four more drinks. "Another beer?" I asked him.

He stood up. "Thanks, Marîd, but I got to make some money. I want to buy a gold chain for this girl."

"Why don't you give her one of the ones you try selling to the tourists?"

He looked horrified. "She'd scratch my eyes out!" he said. It sounded like he'd found another hot-blooded sweetheart. "By the way, the Half-Hajj said I should show you this." He pulled something out of his pocket and dropped it in front of me.