The Moon of Masarrah

by Farah Zaman

“Ah, so you’ve heard the Shaykh’s story too,” Aunt Hafza remarked. “Yusuf told me all about it. What a strange twist of fate it was. Papa must have been so pleased when he brought home the diamond. But then,” Aunt Hafza’s smile faded and her lips trembled as if she was about to cry, “he was murdered by the rebels.”

  “You were all so young when it happened,” Layla remarked sympathetically.

  “Yes, we were. Yusuf and I were twelve and Hanifa was fourteen. We had a hard time accepting the fact that we would never see Papa again.” Sounding drowsy now, she murmured, “I thought that getting lost in the secret tunnel was the worst thing that had happened to me, but Papa’s death was so much more traumatic.” With those words, Aunt Hafza became quiet, her eyes closed, and her chest rose and fell evenly as she slept.

  Layla and Zahra shared a look of excitement at the mention of a secret tunnel. Picking up the empty tray, Layla signaled to Zahra and the two girls tiptoed out of the room.

  Once they were outside, Layla whispered excitedly, “We have to tell the boys about this secret tunnel that Aunt Hafza mentioned. I wonder where it could be?”

  The boys were drying the last few dishes in the kitchen when the girls came back with the empty tray. Layla quickly told them what Aunt Hafza had said.

  “I’ve never heard Dad say anything about a secret tunnel,” Adam said doubtfully as he opened a cupboard and deposited a stack of plates. “We should ask Aunt Hafza about it when she’s awake.”

  “Let’s go to her room before we go down to afternoon tea,” Layla suggested. “She’ll probably be awake then.”

  When the teenagers stopped by Aunt Hafza’s room later, to their surprise, she was not there.

  “She must have gone downstairs,” Zahra said.

  “Well, let’s go find her,” Adam said.

  They finally found Aunt Hafza out on the patio, wrapped up to her ears in a voluminous shawl. Afternoon tea had already been laid out on the white wicker table and she was drinking a mug of tea and munching on a slice of cake as she watched Hassan and Hakeem removing a message tied to Gul’s leg.

  “You boys are still giving Gul messages to carry?” Adam asked. “He will soon get tired of it.”

  “Well, we want to make sure he doesn’t forget,” Hakeem said.

  “He likes doing it,” Hassan said. “He thinks it’s fun.”

  Layla turned her eyes heavenward. “He likes eating the reward you give him, that’s why he thinks it’s fun. Now, go and wash your hands and come get your tea and cake.”

  Obediently, Hassan and Hakeem ran into the kitchen and washed their hands before seating themselves at the table. After they had helped themselves to the refreshments, Adam inquired, “Are you feeling well now, Aunt Hafza?”

  “Wheeling bell?” Aunt Hafza queried in puzzlement. “What do you mean?”

  Adam sighed in frustration. Aunt Hafza had clearly forgotten to wear her hearing aid.

  He bent down close to her ear and repeated the question.

  “Oh yes, much better,” Aunt Hafza nodded.

  “Aunt Hafza,” Layla leaned over, “when Zahra and I came to your room earlier, you mentioned about getting lost in a secret tunnel. Do you remember where it is?”

  Hakeem suddenly choked on his tea and began coughing. Zahra thumped him on the back as she crooned, “You poor thing. Tea went down the wrong way, did it?”

  Hassan said, “That’s cause he was…,” the boy came to a stop as his twin pinched him. Zaid, who was the only one to observe that furtive pinch, wondered what secret the two little imps were hiding.

  “Aunt Hafza, do you remember where the secret tunnel is?” Adam prompted.

  “Oh, it was over at Pasha’s Playland,” Aunt Hafza answered, to their disappointment. “I was a little girl back then. Mama and Papa took us there to spend the day. There was a maze called the Secret Tunnel that I wanted to explore but was not old enough. When no one was looking, I snuck in. I could not read the signs, so I got lost inside. I was in there for almost two hours before they found me. It was terrifying.”

  “What a frightening experience,” Zahra commiserated. “I would have been hysterical if something like that had happened to me.”

  Aunt Hafza shivered and said, “There is a bit of chill in the air now. I think I shall return inside.” Gathering up her shawl, she went indoors. Minutes later, they were joined by Mr. Horani who greeted them before sitting down in the chair Aunt Hafza had vacated.

  “I came to tell you that I just got off the phone with Hud,” Mr. Horani disclosed as he helped himself to a slice of cake. “He was very upset that his father chased you out of the museum yesterday. Apparently, the nurse dropped the old man off while she went to run an errand. Hud needed to go down to the lower level for a few minutes, so he locked the old man safely inside the office before leaving. It looked like Nuh had a sudden flash of memory for he remembered where the spare key was hidden and used it to open the door. He must have gone to look at his old ship when he saw you all. Hud sends his apologies and hopes that you will visit the museum again soon.”

  “As a matter of fact, we were thinking of going back tomorrow,” Adam said eagerly. “There were lots of things we didn’t get to see.”

  “That is fine. Luqman can drop you off and pick you up later.”

  Seeing that they had the perfect opportunity to question Mr. Horani, Zaid said, “Grandpa, we were looking at the ceremonial khanjars at the museum. There were nine of them total. I guess the Tabibis got them from the crewmen?”

  “Yes, Papa had ten of them made for himself and the crew. When the Tabibis started their collection for the museum, the khanjars were donated by the crewmen who were still alive and by the families of those who had passed away. The only one not there is Papa’s, of course.”

  Layla, taking the cue from Zaid, asked, “Grandpa, besides Nuh and Basim’s great-grandfather, did you know the rest of the crewmen?”

  “Of course,” Mr. Horani answered. “But the ones I knew best were the Faithful Five.”

  “The Faithful Five?” Adam looked quizzically at his grandfather.

  “They were the men who sailed on all the voyages of the Yuhanza. They had been closest in affection as well as age to Papa. Come wind, storm or gale, they were ever at his side. That’s why Papa nicknamed them the Faithful Five.”

  “Who were they?” Zahra asked.

  “First was Nuh Tabibi, then Qasim Ahmed, Basim’s great-grandfather. You wouldn’t know the others by their names, but they were Maymun, Luqman and Abbas’s fathers.”

  “Wow, I didn’t know that their fathers were crewmen on the Yuhanza too,” Layla said in surprise.

  “They were. Very good and loyal men they were too. In fact, all nine of the crewmen were like brothers to Papa.”

  Adam said, “Then it’s strange that out of nine, not one of them knew that the Captain had brought back a diamond.”

  Looking a trifle surprised at the comment, Mr. Horani revealed, “All nine of them didn’t go on that last voyage.”

  “So who went?” Zaid asked with interest.

  “Because of the unrest caused by the rebels, my father set sail on that voyage with only the Faithful Five.”

  Chapter Eleven:

  The Marked Dagger

  “I still can’t get over the fact that only the Faithful Five sailed on that last voyage,” Layla remarked glumly the next morning as they entered the courtyard of the Mariner’s Museum.

  “Yeah, it’s hard to believe that one of the Captain’s closest friends could have killed him,” Adam said. “Well, at least it narrows down the list of suspects. I can’t wait to find out if Hud Tabibi knows who gave that marked dagger.”

  “Let’s speak to him after we look at the daggers and exhibits,” Layla suggested.

  As they crossed the courtyard and headed to the entrance of the museum, Zaid noted th
at unlike their last visit, there were several cars parked there. I guess we are not going to have the place to ourselves today, he thought.

  Once more in the museum, they were greeted by a very flustered Hud, who apologized profusely to them and seemed gratified that they were visiting the museum again.

  “It’s okay, Mr. Tabibi,” Layla said kindly. “We know your father is very ill.”

  “Please call me Hud,” he said. “There’s no need to stand on ceremony. Well, go ahead then,” he waved a hand. “You know the way.”

  They passed by the vast hall where several visitors were viewing the exhibits. To their relief, there was no one in the chamber where the model of the Yuhanza and her artifacts were displayed. Gathering around the glass case, they gazed at the marked dagger. The letter gouged out on the blade was an unmistakable K. To leave no room for doubts, they looked again at the inscripted names of the crewmen on the metal plate.

  “Well, we have our answer,” Zahra said finally. “None of the crewmen’s names began with a K. It was the Captain’s dagger.”

  “Beyond a shadow of doubt,” Layla agreed.

  When they returned to the reception area twenty minutes later, they found the visitors gone and Hud bent over some ledgers in his glass-walled office. Adam knocked politely on the reception desk and the curator emerged. “Finished?” he asked.

  Adam replied, “Yes, it was very interesting looking at all the different artifacts from the Yuhanza. We noticed that one of the khanjars had a mark on the blade that looked like an English K. Did you ever notice it and which crewman donated that one?”

  “A mark that looked like an English K, you say?” Hud’s forehead puckered in thought. “I might have seen it when it came in or noticed it when I was examining the displays but I’m afraid there’s no way of knowing who gave that one. Perhaps my father would have been able to tell you. The artifacts from the Yuhanza were of special interest to him as you can imagine.”

  The teenagers tried their best to hide their disappointment.

  “Are there times when your father’s memory comes back?” Zaid asked.

  “Well, yes. But those spells don’t last for long.”

  “Do you think we can visit him one day when it’s back?” Adam asked. “We’d love to hear about his voyages on the Yuhanza.”

  “I guess that could be arranged. But if he starts getting agitated, you’ll have to leave for your own safety.”

  “Sure,” Adam nodded. “We understand.”

  “I’ll let his nurse give you a call then. What number can she reach you at?”

  “Tell her to call the home number and ask for us,” Adam answered.

  Layla took out a small, purple spiral notepad and matching purple pen. “Hud, can you tell us how to get to your house? We’ll use our bikes to ride over.”

  After Hud had gone over the directions and Layla had written them in her notepad, Zahra said, “Hud, you must have heard a lot of stories from your father.”

  Hud smiled. “Well, I’ve come from several generations of sailors, so I’ve heard my fair share of stories. Like the time my grandfather nearly got eaten by cannibals. Or the time when the men on my great-grandfather’s ship turned green from eating a certain fruit on a tropical island. On one of the voyages of the Yuhanza, the men saw a lamp which the natives claimed was Aladdin’s Lamp. Of course, the jinn was long gone by then,” he chuckled. “Then there was the Mask of Beauty. Legend had it that whoever wore the Mask for an entire night would regain their youthful looks by morning.”

  “And did it work?” Zahra asked, fascinated.

  “No one knew,” the curator chuckled again. “It had such a horrible smell that no one wanted it on their face for a minute, much less an entire night.”

  “Did anyone ever find a buried treasure?” Adam asked.

  “Ah! No sailor is worth his salt if he doesn’t find buried treasure. I heard that my great-great uncle found some jewels hidden in a cave in Africa. But alas, he was chased off by headhunters. Then there was my grandfather’s cousin who dug up what he thought was an ordinary piece of pottery in India. It turned out to be a sacred relic which had been stolen from a rajah, an Indian king. He was almost thrown into jail for that.”

  Zaid finally asked the question he had been eager to ask. “Hud, did your father ever tell you about the Night of Catastrophe?”

  Hud sighed. “Yes, when I was younger. He had been guarding the cargo that night on the Yuhanza when the rebels swarmed on board. He had to jump into the water to save his life. He was never the same afterwards.”

  “Yes, we heard Grandpa’s story of what happened that night,” Layla said. Boldy, she added, “He told us that before the Captain died, he spoke of a diamond he had hidden. Grandpa searched but could not find it. Did you ever hear that story?”

  Hud’s eyes flickered in surprise. “I’ve never heard that story. Well, if you’ll excuse me,” he said apologetically as he glanced at the clock on the wall, “I have a backlog of work to catch up on before I go to lunch.” Taking the hint, the teenagers thanked him politely and left.

  “So, what do you think?” Adam asked once they were outside. “Could his father have been the one who murdered the Captain? And is Hud protecting him?”

  “Well, his father could have gone after the Captain that night instead of guarding the ship,” Zaid speculated. “And Hud seemed in a hurry for us to leave after Layla asked about the diamond. But of course, that’s not much to go on.”

  Layla said, “I think we need to speak to Nuh himself if his memory comes back. He’s the only remaining Faithful Five. I’m sure he’ll be able to tell us a lot of things.”

  “If Hud is protecting his father, we probably won’t get the chance,” Zahra said.

  Their plan upon leaving the museum was to explore the area a bit, have lunch at a nearby restaurant, and then wait outside the museum for Luqman’s return at two o’clock. The teenagers spent an enjoyable hour browsing the shops in the area before moving on to the restaurant, where they ordered pizza, fried chicken with fries and mint lemonade.

  As they ate, Layla said, “You know where I’d like to go next?”

  “Where?” Zahra asked.

  “Pasha’s Playland,” Layla said as she bit into her crispy fried chicken. “I’m curious to see what it’s like. Especially the secret tunnel that Aunt Hafza got lost in.”

  “Yeah, that’s a good idea,” Adam endorsed. “We’re in need of some fun and relaxation. I say we go tomorrow. Maybe Grandpa or Luqman can take us. The playland is miles away so we can’t bike over.”

  “Why don’t we ask Basim to go with us,” Zaid suggested. “Then the Ahmeds’ chauffeur can take us all.”

  “Basim would love that, I’m sure,” Zahra said as she sipped her lemonade.

  “When we get home, I’ll ask Grandpa and then call Basim,” Adam promised.

  Upon their return home, permission was sought from Mr. Horani and promptly given for their visit to the playland. Adam then called Basim, who professed himself delighted at the prospect of accompanying them. He promised to come with the chauffeur at nine the next morning.

  Tired after their day’s outing, Zaid fell asleep minutes after his head hit the pillow that night. He awoke much later as a sound gradually permeated his dreams. From his open window, he heard the unmistakable tone of an engine. Rubbing his bleary eyes, he sluggishly got out of bed and looked out into the bay. In the faint moonlight he saw the small, unlit vessel gliding towards the cove. Remembering Adam’s request, he hurried over to the other boy’s room, eager to let him see the boat for himself.

  “Adam,” he cried, shaking his friend’s shoulder. “Wake up.”

  “What is it?” Adam opened his eyes and blinked up at Zaid.

  “It’s the boat,” Zaid replied. “It’s coming into the cove.”

  Adam bolted upright, slid off the b
ed and followed Zaid. The two boys stood in the dark room and gazed out the window. The boat was angling its way into the cove, the sound of its engine vibrating faintly in the silence. It approached the cliffs, melded with the darkness there and vanished from sight and hearing. The boys waited for several minutes but the boat did not reappear.

  “You’re right,” Adam remarked. “It’s very strange.”

  “I think they’re keeping watch for the pirates,” Zaid declared. “I’m sure we’ll hear tomorrow of another ship being plundered.”

  Chapter Twelve:

  Pasha’s Playland

  The next morning, to Zaid’s consternation, there was no news of the pirates attacking any ship.

  “I guess I let my imagination run away with me,” he told Adam ruefully.

  “All the same, it’s kind of weird. Tell you what,” Adam looked at Zaid with a gleam in his eyes, “the next time you hear that boat come in, we’ll go out to the bluffs to see what’s going on.”

  “Oh, that would be so daring,” Zaid was thrilled at the thought of such an adventure.

  “Yeah, it will be,” Adam’s eyes shone with anticipation. “As long as we’re not caught in the act, of course.”

  Promptly at nine, Basim arrived with Nassif, the chauffeur, in tow, and the teenagers and twins bounded out to the courtyard. They passed by Luqman, who was bent over the open hood of his Honda pickup truck.

  “Something wrong?” Zaid stopped to inquire.

  “It’s not starting,” Luqman said in frustration. “I’ll have to get it towed to the mechanic. Well, you all have a good time at the playland.”

  They piled into the limousine and were soon speeding down the corniche on the way to the playland. Conversation flowed merrily all around and soon they came within sight of their destination. Pasha’s Playland nestled on acres of land surrounding Lake Rawa. Zaid could see the jumbo roller coasters reaching up towards the skies and the colorful cable cars in the shape of birds moving in slow motion above. Nassif dropped them off at the entrance, and after promising to pick them up at the appointed time, he drove off. Adam paid their entry fee with the wad of bills his grandfather had given him and they sauntered inside, armed with site maps of the playland.