“Or good,” the date seller added.
***
Scarlett and Sam spent the next few hours walking aimlessly around the winding streets and alleys of Jaffa, trying to absorb what they had just learned. They both came to the same conclusion.
“This isn’t a pleasant place or time. We need to get out of here,” said Sam.
“How?” Scarlett asked. “We’ve lost Grandma Mina’s carpet. And Grandma Mina says it’s magic. It could help us get back home. How are we going to get it back? We may not even be in the same century. What if we’re stuck in ancient Jaffa and the carpet is driving around town in the back of a red car?”
“Maybe we can find another carpet,” Sam suggested.
“And pay for it with what? And how will we get it back home?”
Sam shrugged. “Got a better idea?”
“No.”
“Then let’s start looking. Who knows? We might get lucky.”
***
They hadn’t gone far when they ran into a man carrying a pile of ratty-looking blankets over his shoulder.
“Where did you get those?” Scarlett asked him.
“At the shuk.” The man pointed down the street.
“What’s a shuk?” Sam asked.
“Market. Big market,” the man exclaimed as he scurried down an alley.
He wasn’t exaggerating. The shuk was easily the biggest building in Jaffa. The main shuk was a two-story mud brick building that went on for blocks. Around it was a cluster of awnings, tents, and open-air booths selling anything that could be sold.
Shopkeepers’ eager hands clutched at Scarlett and Sam as they pushed their way through the crowds of shoppers.
“Goat cheese! The best!”
“Hummus! Buy my hummus!”
“Singing birds from Lebanon!”
“Rare wine from Greece. Care for a sip, young sir or madam?”
“No, thanks,” Scarlett and Sam said over and over again. They finally reached the entrance to the main building. A sleepy, old man with a long beard looked them over.
“We’re looking to buy a carpet. Where can we find one?” Sam asked the man.
The man yawned. “Street of the Carpet Sellers. Many carpets. Many sellers.”
Sam didn’t understand what the man was talking about until he saw how the shuk was laid out. The market was divided into different sections like a department store. Unlike the chaos and confusion in the booth section outside, the merchants in here had their own spaces based on what they were selling. If you wanted pots and pans, you went to one area. If you wanted hats, you went to another. If you wanted carpets . . .
“Sort of like a department store at the mall. Only without an elevator,” said Scarlett.
“Or a movie theater,” Sam added. “Or a parking lot.”
“I see the carpet sellers,” said Scarlett, counting off the aisles. “We’re almost there.”
The aisle of the carpet sellers was impossible to miss. Heaps of carpets bursting with bright colors and intricate designs filled the stalls. Suddenly Scarlett grasped Sam’s shoulder.
“Hey! Do you see what I see? Isn’t that Grandma Mina’s carpet?”
“It sure looks like it,” said Sam. “How did it get here?”
“How did we get here?” said Scarlett. “Who knows? But if we can get the carpet back and if we can get it to work its magic, maybe we won’t have to be here much longer.”
One of the carpet sellers smoothed out Grandma Mina’s carpet as he added it to the pile in front of his booth. Sam ran to grab it.
“Hey! Hands off!” The carpet seller yanked Sam by the shoulders and shoved him away. “These are valuable items. Genuine handwoven rugs from Medea and Persia. They need to be handled with care. Don’t touch the carpet unless you mean to buy it.”
“We don’t have to buy it. It’s not your carpet. It’s ours!” Scarlett said.
“Nonsense,” the carpet seller told her. “I just bought it from a man an hour ago. He said he needed to sell it to pay for passage on a ship leaving Jaffa today.”
“Where was he going?” Sam asked.
The carpet seller shrugged. “How should I know? I buy carpets. I don’t ask questions.”
“That man had no right to sell it. That carpet’s ours,” Sam insisted.
“But we’re not going to argue with you,” said Scarlett. “We need that carpet, and we need it bad. How much do you want for it?”
The carpet seller rubbed his beard. “People will say I’m crazy, but I’ll let you have this beautiful rug for . . . what do you say . . . 20,000 shekels?”
“How much is that in our money?” Scarlett whispered to Sam.
“I don’t know,” Sam said. “It may not matter. How much have you got?”
Scarlett dug in her pockets. “$5.50.”
“I have $10 and a little change,” Sam said.
“Something tells me that 20,000 shekels is more than that.” Scarlett turned to the carpet seller. “Will you take $15.85?”
“15,850 shekels? Make it an even 16,000 and we have a deal.”
“Um . . . not exactly,” said Scarlett.
“Then you’ll get nothing.” Sam grabbed for the carpet, but not fast enough. The carpet seller jerked it out of his hands. “Thieves! Help! Call the Shomrim!”
Shuk Security—otherwise known as the Shomrim—came storming down the aisles from all directions. One look told Scarlett and Sam that these guys were not friendly mall cops who would tell you to behave and give you a warning. These Shomrim looked pretty fierce.
“Forget the carpet. We need to leave. NOW!” said Scarlett.
***
Leave they did. As fast as they could. Right through the middle of the shuk, knocking over trays, carts, food, displays, and anything or anyone in their way. That slowed down the Shomrim, who had to shove their way through screaming shoppers, enraged merchants, and heaps of spilled merchandise.
“Which way?” Sam shouted to Scarlett as they scurried past the bearded man at the entrance.
“Whichever way looks good,” she shouted back. They ducked into a narrow alley, following its twists and turns to an open plaza where the tall masts of ships pierced the cloudless sky. They smelled the ocean. They heard gulls crying overhead and waves lapping against the shore.
“We’re at the sea!” Scarlett shouted. She glanced over her shoulder to see if the Shomrim were still following them.
“Better run! They’re after you!” several sailors called to them from a ship that was pulling away from the dock. The Shomrim came running across the plaza. “There they are!” they yelled, dashing after Scarlett and Sam.
“Jump!” the sailors cried. Scarlett and Sam ran to the edge of the pier and leapt aboard. The Shomrim stood at the edge of the dock, shaking their fists at the sailors and shouting, “Those two are shoplifters! Bring them back, or we’ll report you to King Ahaz!”
The captain stood at the rudder with his hand cupped to his ear. “Sorry, guys! Can’t hear you!” he called to the Shomrim onshore. The wind filled the sails as the ship sailed out of the harbor and onto the open sea.
Chapter 4
Row, Row, Row Your Boat
As soon as the ship was underway, the captain turned the rudder over to the mate and sat down on a coil of rope to talk with Scarlett and Sam. He wrapped his arms around his knees and asked, “So! What brings you two here?”
Scarlett and Sam looked at each other. Where to begin? And how much to tell without making the captain and crew think they were making things up. Scarlett spoke first.
“Our grandmother has this carpet . . .”
“It brought us to the shuk . . .” Sam added.
“So you brought your poor grandma’s carpet to the shuk to sell. That was your first mistake,” the captain said. “I wouldn’t go near that place. Not anymore. Not since Ahaz became king.”
“Why not?” Scarlett asked.
“We used to bring our goods into Jaffa and sell them on the dock,” the
captain said. “But no more. The Shomrim say we must buy and sell everything only in the shuk. Merchants must pay the king a rental fee for their booths. Add on the special fees and taxes, and it’s hardly worth it for us to come into Jaffa’s port anymore. Usually we just continue up the coast to Tyre, where the Phoenicians treat us fairly.”
“We didn’t know that,” said Scarlett.
“And we didn’t have any choice in coming to Jaffa,” Sam added.
“Well, better luck next time.” The captain continued what he thought was their story, as the walls and towers of Jaffa sank below the horizon. “So, you offered your grandma’s carpet to the rug sellers and they offered you beans? When you refused their offer, they kept the carpet.” The captain shook his head. “It’s an old tale. I tell my crew to watch out for those sharks whenever we’re in port. They’ll gobble you up faster than the sharks at sea. But, don’t you worry. You’re safe now.”
“Thanks,” Scarlett said. “You can let us off somewhere along the coast. We can find our way back home.”
“Sorry,” the captain said. “We’re not stopping along the coast. We’re heading west.”
“How far west?” Sam asked.
“As far west as you can go,” the captain told him. “We’ll make stops along the way at Knossos, Mycenae, and Carthage, and we end our voyage in Tarshish.”
“Where’s that?” Sam asked the captain.
“In Hispania,” answered the captain, standing up. “Talk to you later. I hear the mate calling. We have to trim the jib.”
“What’s a jib?” Scarlett asked as the captain left.
“What’s Hispania?” asked Sam.
“I think he means Spain,” Scarlett told him. “We studied it in history class at school when we learned about explorers to the new world.”
“Well!” exclaimed Sam. “We just left Jaffa. That means this ship is heading . . . for the other end of the Mediterranean Sea!”
That thought knocked them both for a loop. How would they get back home if they were on the other side of the ocean from Grandma Mina’s carpet? Maybe it would turn up on its own; it was magic after all. But Scarlett and Sam weren’t so sure. The carpet would need GPS just to find them. And what were they supposed to do in Spain while they waited for the carpet to show up? If it even ever showed up. That was a disturbing thought. They’d be totally on their own. For months. For years. Maybe forever!
“It might not be so bad. I like burritos,” said Sam.
“Burritos come from Mexico not Spain,” Scarlett reminded him. “Spanish people won’t get to Mexico for another two thousand years.”
Sam sighed. “That’s a long time to wait for a burrito. How about a taco salad?”
***
They soon learned that finding a burrito was the least of their worries. The captain came back with a small matter to discuss with them.
“About your fare . . .”
“Fare?” said Scarlett.
“Yes,” the captain said. “Our ship doesn’t carry passengers for free. If you plan to travel with us as far as Hispania, there’s going to be a slight charge.”
“How slight?” Sam asked.
“That depends,” said the captain. “We have different plans. We can offer you either first class, business, or coach.”
“How much is coach?” Scarlett asked. Grandma Mina always told them how much prices had gone up over the years. Since they were about twenty-five hundred years back in history now, maybe they could get a Mediterranean cruise for the fifteen dollars they had between them. Sam held out the crumpled bills.
“Will this cover it?”
The captain blinked. “Is that some kind of parchment?”
“You could say that. It’s very rare,” Sam told him. He showed the captain the portraits of Abraham Lincoln and Alexander Hamilton on the two bills. “These are famous people where Scarlett and I come from.” He didn’t say that they wouldn’t become famous for a couple of thousand years.
The captain did not look impressed. “Don’t you have any gold or silver?”
“No.”
“Jewels? Silk? Goods to trade? Anything?”
“Afraid not,” said Sam.
“All we had was Grandma Mina’s carpet. Those merchants in the shuk took it from us,” Scarlett said.
The captain sighed. “I suppose I could sell you in the slave market when we stop off in Egypt.”
“NO!” Scarlett and Sam shouted. Being slaves in Egypt was an experience they had read about at many Passover seders.
“Relax. Just kidding,” the captain said. “I wouldn’t do that. I wouldn’t sell anybody as a slave. Some captains do. They’ll carry only what they can sell. But I think slavery is a different story. I don’t care how much money I could make. It’s an ugly business, and I want no part of it. We do have another option that might suit you. It’s our travel/work study plan.”
“What’s that?” asked Scarlett.
The captain explained. “You travel with the rest of the passengers and crew, learning about the people, the cultures, and the customs of the different places where we’ll be stopping. It’s just that you’ll be expected to pitch in from time to time when we need extra hands.”
“That sounds fair,” said Sam. “We’ll take it. What sort of work would you like us to do?”
The captain glanced up at the slackening sail. The wind had died down. “As a matter of fact,” he said, “I can show you right now.”
***
“Travel/work study, eh?” Scarlett grumbled as she pulled back on the oar. She sat beside Sam as they and the other sailors rowed the ship through the waves.
“Keep together. Follow the beat,” the mate called to rowers as he pounded out the rhythm on a drum. BOOM—stroke! BOOM—stroke!
“Does this remind you of anything?” Sam asked Scarlett.
“Yeah, that old movie Ben Hur that Grandma Mina likes to watch. At least some guy isn’t beating us with a whip like they did aboard that Roman ship in the movie,” Scarlett answered.
“Let’s speed it up,” the captain said, dropping by to see how they were doing. “I want to go waterskiing.”
Scarlett nearly dropped her oar.
“Ha, ha!” the captain laughed. “Just kidding. Keep it up. You kids are doing fine. Rowing is great exercise. You’ll have terrific abs by the time we get to Hispania. This is how it is when we sail the Great Sea. Sometimes you sail; sometimes you row. It all depends on the wind.”
“How much longer do we have to row? I’m getting tired,” said Sam.
“Another hour. Then we’ll take a break,” the captain said. “Keep at it. You guys are awesome.”
“Yeah, right!” Scarlett grumbled. “We’re having such a wonderful time. It’s almost like being on vacation.” Between the creak of the oars and the beat of the drum, she almost didn’t hear Sam whispering.
“Scarlett . . . psst, Scarlett!”
“What?” She was in no mood for conversation.
“Look over there. On the other side of the ship. What do they call it . . . starboard? Fifth bench from the bow. I think we know that guy. Isn’t he . . .”
Scarlett nearly dropped her oar. “The guy from the Loft car who dropped us off downtown! If that’s not him, it’s somebody who looks just like him. How can that be? If it’s the same guy, what’s he doing here?”
“Quiet down,” the mate called. “More effort. Less chatter. Let’s go, everybody! Keep together!” BOOM—stroke! BOOM—stroke!”
***
They rowed for another hour. Then the wind came up. The mate told them they could stop rowing and stack their oars in a special rack. By then, most of the rowers were so tired they could hardly lift their oars to stack them. Not Scarlett and Sam. They discovered new energy now that they had business to complete.
They both kept their eyes on the man as he stacked his oar, and then squatted on the deck for a snack of bread and dates. Scarlett and Sam walked over and sat down on either side of him.
“Hi, Jon! Remember us? How are the dates?” Scarlett asked.
The man stared at her. “Do I know you?”
“Maybe you forgot,” Scarlett answered. “But we didn’t.”
“Red car . . . Loft . . . downtown . . . Dihanian’s carpet shop. Any of that ring a bell?” asked Sam.
“Leave me alone. I don’t know what you’re talking about.” The man tried to get up. Scarlett and Sam pulled him down.
“We think you do,” Scarlett said. “We can’t explain everything that’s going on, but we can promise you one thing. We’re not going to leave you alone until you start talking. We’re on a ship. There’s nowhere to go but overboard, so don’t think about skipping out on us.”
“We don’t want to cause you any trouble, Jon,” said Sam. “Just talk to us. Why are you here? You look scared. You told us you were running from your boss. Tell us why. Maybe we can help you.”
“We’re good at helping,” Scarlett added.
The young man looked around the deck to see if anyone else was listening. “All right,” he said. “I’ll tell you. But you have to promise not to breathe a word of what I say to anyone. I’m in trouble. Big trouble. But no one can help me. Especially not two kids.”
“Are you sure?”
“Oh, I’m sure,” he said. “Let’s start at the beginning. They call me Jon, but my name is Jonah. And I’m not a Loft driver. I’m a prophet.”
Scarlett’s eyes opened wide. She was beginning to get the picture.
Chapter 5
Jonah’s Story
The twins listened as Jonah began his story.
Jonah
It wasn’t my idea to be a prophet. I wanted to be a farmer, like my dad, Amitai. I’m good at making things grow.
It was getting close to Sukkot. I was in back of the house, sorting out the different boards and poles we use to build the sukkah. It was a bright, sunny day. Nothing out of the ordinary. Suddenly I heard a voice out of the sky.
“JONAH!”
Did somebody call me? I looked around. I thought maybe it was my dad. I couldn’t see anyone in the backyard, so I went back to what I was doing. That’s when I heard the voice again. Only louder this time. Lots louder, like a clap of thunder.
Whale of a Tale Page 2