The Moon of Masarrah

by Farah Zaman

  Zaid’s blood turned to ice in his veins when he realized the men’s intent. They’re going to leave us tied up on the beach, he thought in horror. When the tide comes in, we’re going to drown if we don’t find a way to escape!

  Chapter Twenty-Two:

  Gul to the Rescue

  Adam and Mir must have come to the same realization for they began struggling against their bonds. Zaid, squashed between the two of them, with Adam to his right and Mir to his left, also began to struggle. Though their bonds eased a fraction, they still held fast and Zaid knew it was unlikely that they would be able to break free of them. He looked sideways as Mir contorted forward and used his fingers to remove the gag from his mouth.

  After taking several deep gulps of air, Mir turned to the boys and instructed, “Do as I did and remove your gags.”

  Zaid found that the ropes lashed around their upper arms gave their lower arms some leeway. By bending their heads downward and straining to reach up with a hand, he and Adam too were able to remove the gags and fill their lungs with invigorating air.

  “What were you trying to tell us in the boat?” Adam asked Mir.

  “I was telling you to try and loosen your bonds,” Mir said. “You didn’t understand, so I said never mind.”

  “What are we going to do?” Zaid’s eyes darted around the desolate cove. “We will surely drown when the tide comes in.”

  “Try shouting,” Mir ordered tersely. “And praying,” he added as an afterthought.

  Obediently, both boys closed their eyes and prayed silently. They waited for a lull in the waves breaking against the cliffs before they began shouting together.

  “HELP! HELP! HELP!” they shouted at the top of their voices.

  While they shouted, Mir continued to strain against his bonds, flexing his muscles and baring his teeth but to no avail. The men who had bound them were obviously sailors and knew how to tie a good knot.

  Zaid knew they did not have much time left before the tide started to come in. From their position, they had a close view of the curling, white-capped waves breaking onto the beach. The water’s edge was still several feet away but that would soon change with the approaching tide. The thought of being drowned made Zaid want to cry like a baby. Surely someone will hear us yelling, he thought. But then he remembered how remote the little cove was. No one at the house would be able to hear them and they were too far away from the sight of any passing boats. His heart sank in his chest as he thought how devastated their families would be if they all drowned.

  After another bout of shouting for help, there was a sudden swish of wings and a loud squawk. A large bird landed gracefully on a nearby rock. Its plumage was white in color, with an unusual sprinkling of gray dots at the base of its tail feathers. It stared at them, its head tilted inquiringly to one side in a familiar way.

  “Gul?” Adam stared at the bird. “Is that really Gul?”

  The bird gave a soft squawk as it continued to stare at them. There was no mistaking it. The bird was Gul, all right. It must have heard them shouting and responded to the sound of their voices. “It’s definitely Gul,” Zaid smiled weakly. “He heard us.”

  “Is that your pet?” Mir asked. “It would be good if it could talk and take a message back.”

  “It could take a message back,” Zaid said dejectedly, “if only we had pen, paper and string.”

  “Zaid…,” Adam’s voice was tense. “You were wearing those same jeans yesterday when we went to the wharf, weren’t you?”

  Zaid thought for a moment before replying, “Yes, I was.” It seemed such a long time ago since they were at the wharf although it was only yesterday. He was not sure why Adam was asking him about clothes at this critical time. Was his friend losing his mind because of their predicament? Adam’s next words dispelled that notion.

  “Then please tell me,” Adam implored, “that you still have Layla’s notepad and pen in your pocket and that you didn’t give them back to her.”

  Zaid’s eyes widened with sudden recall. He had put the pen in his pocket after sketching the emblem and had also shoved in the notepad when Talal Ambreen came on the scene. He had forgotten to return them to Layla when they came back from the wharf. Which meant he still had them in his pocket.

  “I have them,” he cried jubilantly, fingering the slight bulge in his pocket. “They’re still here.”

  “And I still have the leftover ball of string in my pocket,” Adam said joyfully.

  The next moment the boys’ spirits plummeted as they realized the logistics involved in writing a message and tying it to Gul’s leg.

  “It will work if we’re careful and Gul cooperates,” Adam said, bolstering their spirits. “Try to get the pen and notepad out and I will do the same with the ball of string.”

  “What’s going on?” Mir asked, not quite understanding what they were on about.

  “My twin brothers taught Gul to carry messages tied to his leg,” Adam explained. “Zaid has a pen and notepad in his pocket and I have a ball of string. We have to get it all together somehow and send a message with Gul, if he doesn’t fly off.”

  A skeptical look flashed across Mir’s face before he said, “Okay, go for it. We have nothing to lose.”

  Contorting his hands little by little, Zaid stretched his fingers and reached inside his pocket. But his fingers still fell short of reaching his mark. Straining with the effort and using muscles that he knew would be sore for days, he forced his arms to move further. He almost gave a shout of joy when his fingers closed over the pen and notepad. But now came the tricky part. How to get them out without dropping them onto the sand and out of reach? Clutching them firmly, he drew them out inch by inch and breathed a prayer of thanks when they rested at last on his thighs. Adam had already gotten the ball of string out and while Zaid had been occupied with his task, his friend had been diligently gnawing off a piece of string, which he now passed to Zaid.

  Mir had been observing them tensely. “Be careful now,” he said to Zaid. “But hurry,” he added sharply, staring fixedly at his feet.

  Zaid’s gaze went to his feet also. A gentle wave had glided in, wetting his sneakers and the edge of his jeans. Even as they watched, another wave undulated in and foamed at their feet. It was the ageless ritual of the tide coming in. Hardly daring to breathe for fear that he would drop the precious items and dash their hopes, Zaid forced the fingers of his left hand to hold down the notepad while he carefully took hold of the pen. Painstakingly he wrote onto it: Help. Captured by pirates in cove. Will drown when tide comes in. Come immediately. Zaid, Adam & Mir.

  Setting the pen down after he had finished writing, Zaid carefully tore off the piece of paper, and folded it up as best as he could with his limited range of motion. Then he turned to Gul, who had been sitting patiently, watching them with a remarkable look of intelligence in its eyes.

  “Come, boy,” Zaid said coaxingly to the bird, lightly jiggling the paper and string. “Take a message to Hassan and Hakeem.”

  The bird mewled softly and flapped its wings at the mention of Hassan and Hakeem.

  “That’s right,” Adam said encouragingly. “If you take the message to Hassan and Hakeem, we’ll have Maymun bake you your own pie. Come on now.”

  Gul continued to eye them without moving. “Come on, boy,” Zaid said. “You’ve got to help us out here.”

  “Here,” Mir pulled out a crumbly cookie in a plastic wrapper from his pocket. “Maybe this will help,” he pushed it over onto Zaid’s lap.

  Gul’s head tilted with interest when it spied the cookie. The sweet inducement crumbled away its last defenses and to their delight, the bird raised its wings and flew over to Zaid’s lap and began nibbling at the cookie. As Mir and Adam looked on with bated breath, Zaid tied the note securely around the bird’s leg so there was no chance of it falling off while the bird was in flight. At last, Gul was ready
for its mission.

  “Go to Hassan and Hakeem, boy,” both Zaid and Adam urged the bird. “Go to Hassan and Hakeem.” With hopeful eyes, they watched as Gul let out a loud squawk, raised its wings in the air and soared over the cliffs. Their euphoria lasted until the next wave roared onto the beach and drenched them to the skin. Reality set in again as the minutes ticked away.

  Gul won’t be able to give the message if everyone’s in the house, Zaid thought miserably, his eyes staring unseeingly into the sun-streaked bay. At this time of morning, no one would be outside. The bird was smart, but it could not fly through walls. And even if Maymun had the kitchen door open, after the fiasco of its last visit, the bird would be unceremoniously shooed away if it tried to enter the house.

  At the house, the girls and twins trooped into the kitchen, where they found Maymun busily cutting up vegetables, the kitchen door slightly ajar as usual.

  “There you are,” the housekeeper said. “I was beginning to wonder if you children were ever coming down for breakfast.”

  “Zaid and Adam haven’t come down yet?” Zahra asked.

  “No,” Maymun shook her head as she pulled the towel off a platter of golden-brown pancakes on the island. “I guess they’ll show up when their bellies start to rumble. Even Aunt Hafza beat you down this morning. She’s on the patio soaking up some sun for a change.”

  “Aunt Hafza is up?” Layla said in surprise. “Good for her,” she added, glancing out the slightly opened door.

  After the girls and twins had taken their food into the dining room, Layla said, “I guess Adam and Zaid are still sleeping. They must be exhausted from our little excursion last night,” she added conspiratorially.

  “Can’t say I blame them,” Zahra mumbled, still looking bleary-eyed and groggy. “Though it’s not like Zaid to get up so late. He’s usually an early riser.”

  “I saw them go into the closet this morning,” Hassan spoke in a hushed voice. “Hakeem said I was dreaming ‘cause he didn’t see them.”

  “Hakeem is right,” Zahra said. “The dream must have made you think it was for real.”

  “They’ll probably show up any moment now,” Layla said, forking up a chunk of pancake and popping it into her mouth. “And they’ll be as hungry as hunters. If they had gotten down here first, there would have been hardly any pancakes left. Mmm, Maymun does make the most yummy pancakes.”

  Out on the patio, Aunt Hafza was wrapped up like a mummy in her voluminous shawl even though it had begun to warm up. She had fallen into a light doze, tiny snores bubbling out of her half-opened mouth. When Gul landed on the patio, it directed a loud squawk her way, but Aunt Hafza was deaf to the world since she was not wearing her hearing aid. The bird tilted its head to the side, as if considering its next move. Then with a slight flap of its wings, it alighted on the chair next to her head and let out a piercing squawk. That did the trick.

  Aunt Hafza erupted out of her chair with a shriek and stared wildly around her.

  Seeing Gul perched on the chair, she said shakily, “Allah have mercy.”

  Maymun poked her head out the kitchen door and called out, “Hafza, are you okay? I heard you scream.”

  “Oh, it’s just this tiresome bird screeching in my ear,” Aunt Hafza replied irritably. “I’m alright.”

  After Maymun withdrew from the door, Aunt Hafza pointed an accusing finger at Gul and said wrathfully, “You…you…brazen bird. What do you mean by scaring me like that?”

  Gul mewled softly and began pecking at the paper tied to its leg. Aunt Hafza continued to eye it in great annoyance. She had been enjoying a pleasant little nap until the bird had seen fit to jolt her awake. She was ready to return to that nap if the bird would just fly away. But it was pecking at the paper tied to its leg in a most vexing manner. She knew that the paper had to be the twins’ doing. She vaguely remembered seeing them untying a similar one from the bird’s leg one afternoon when she had been out on the patio. Apparently, the creature meant to stay put until she removed the paper. What was its name? Dul? Or was it Bul? Aunt Hafza frowned in thought. She could not recall what name they called the bothersome bird.

  “Come here, Bul,” Aunt Hafza said nervously as she reached out towards the bird. “I’m just going to remove that paper, so don’t get any ideas of foul play…although I think you must be up to some fowl play,” she chuckled girlishly, in a rare moment of good humor.” Keeping a wary eye on its bill, she slowly untied the piece of paper from the bird’s leg as it waited patiently. “There now,” she said, waving the paper back and forth. “Are you satisfied now? Off you go then. Shoo!”

  But the bird refused to leave. To Aunt Hafza’s annoyance, it remained stubbornly perched on the chair. As she would relate to everyone later, it stared almost angrily at her. Then it gave a rude squawk.

  “You feathered fiend,” Aunt Hafza glared at the bird. “What now? You want me to read it too?” She glanced disinterestedly at the paper in her hands. The words might as well have been written in Greek since she was not wearing her reading glasses. Gul squawked again and Aunt Hafza decided that she had had enough.

  “All right, you scrawny buzzard,” she said, getting irritably to her feet. “I’ll take this to Hassan and Hakeem. And I’ll make sure they know of your appalling behavior,” she added severely as she flounced indoors, past a startled Maymun. Espying the girls and twins in the dining room, she gave a triumphant cry before marching up to the table.

  “Here,” she said, thrusting the piece of paper indignantly onto the table. “That bird of yours, Dul or Bul, or whatever its name is, brought this. It made a horrendous racket in my face and woke me up. Then it wanted me to remove that paper you boys tied to its leg,” she directed an irate look at the twins.

  “We didn’t tie that paper,” Hakeem protested, looking surprised.

  “Wasn’t us,” Hassan denied too, eyeing the paper curiously.

  “Then I guess Gul must have tied it to himself,” Layla said sarcastically. Her eyes widened as she recognized the purple-tinted paper. “Wait a minute,” she exclaimed. “That’s paper from my notepad.” Snatching it up, she opened it and quickly scanned it. Turning pale, she scrambled to her feet.

  “The pirates have captured the boys and tied them up in the cove,” she cried out. “They’ll drown if we don’t reach them in time.”

  “Oh, no,” Zahra looked horrified. “Hassan was right. They did go down the stairs. What are we going to do?”

  “I’m going to tell Grandpa,” Layla rushed out of the dining room. “He’ll have to go down to the cove to rescue them.”

  Aunt Hafza, who had heard the girls clearly, stood rooted to the spot for a few moments before she hurried towards the kitchen. Layla returned with her grandfather, who was wearing a stunned look on his face as he rushed down the passageway and into the storeroom. He emerged with a bundle of ropes and a sheathed knife just as Aunt Hafza appeared in the passageway with Maymun, Luqman and Abbas in tow. By the grave look on the servants’ faces, it was apparent that Aunt Hafza had told them what had happened. No words were necessary as the two men followed Mr. Horani across the vestibule to the back door, the girls and twins behind them.

  Zahra came to a stop in the middle of the vestibule and said, “Wait. There’s an easier way to get to the cove.”

  “Yes, yes,” Layla nodded eagerly. “Grandpa, you have to come upstairs with us.”

  “What are you talking about?” Mr. Horani looked at his granddaughter as if she had gone mad. His eyes turned suddenly suspicious as he asked, “This is not some weird game, is it?”

  “No, no, it’s not…it’s in the closet…we have to go down the stairs,” Layla babbled incoherently. “Zahra, get the flashlights from our rooms.”

  As Zahra sped off, Mr. Horani said in confusion, “I thought you said we have to go upstairs.”

  “Yes, we have to first go up and then down,” Layl
a said, darting down the hallway. “There’s a hidden stairwell that goes underground and to the cove. Come, I’ll show you.”

  The bewildered adults followed Layla and the twins up the stairs and to the twins’ room where Zahra was waiting in the doorway with the flashlights. Aunt Hafza was breathing hard and looking rather pale. Casting an anxious look at his sister, Mr. Horani directed Maymun to take her to her room. Aunt Hafza did not protest, and the two women proceeded down the hallway to the opposite wing.

  Layla quickly opened the door of the closet and told the astounded men, “Follow me.”

  In the cove, the treacherous waters had crept insidiously over the beach and the prisoners were now immersed up to their collarbones. There were no more cries for help as their throats were on fire, and they could no longer summon the strength to raise their voices above the thundering of the waves. To take their minds off their ordeal, Mir had shared a few things about himself, which had gone a long way in explaining his erratic behavior.

  “Do you think the bird took the message?” he asked Zaid and Adam now.

  “I’m sure he did,” Adam gasped, as a powerful wave splashed water onto his face.

  Even if Gul managed to get someone to see the message, it might be too late, Zaid thought wretchedly as he blinked the salty water from his eyes. A few minutes more and there would be no escape or help for them when the waters finally rose over their heads. As they continued to shiver and contemplate their wretched fate, the water crept up almost to their chins.

  It was then that they heard their names being shouted. Their heads jerked up, joy flooding their beings as they realized that help had arrived at last. Praise be to Allah, Zaid thought, before he joined Adam and Mir in calling out to their rescuers.