Pearls on a Branch

by Najla Jraissaty Khoury

  “Let us go to the upper chambers. I have some questions for you about the architecture of the building.”

  So up went the sultan’s son with the two dervishes, the king and his vizier, to where his wife was waiting for them. The sultan’s son introduced the guests, telling his wife:

  “These are two wandering dervishes.” And to the men he said: “This is my wife!”

  “But she my own daughter!” cried the dervish who was the king. “Come, dear child!”

  He pressed her to his chest and kissed her many times. Then he explained the whole story:

  “Dearest daughter, I once had a dream in which I saw myself kissing the hand of my son-in-law. It angered me and, because of the dream, I wrongfully punished you and also made your mother and myself miserable, separated from you for so long. And look: today I not only kissed the hand of my son-in-law but his other hand too. I kissed both his hands!”

  The news was sent to the girl’s mother and there was happiness in every heart.

  Then the son of the Sultan and the daughter of the King

  Lived in ease and plenty showered with blessings

  God sweeten the days of all who heard this storytelling.

  THURAYA WITH THE LONG, LONG HAIR

  It was or was not so

  It happened long ago.

  But first, an invocation:

  The Prophet, Full Moon of Perfection.

  THERE ONCE WERE THREE SISTERS, Fatima, Khadija, and Thuraya. They lived in a modest little house with their only brother. The brother went away to work all day and the young women stayed at home by themselves.

  One day a beggar came to their door and knocked:

  “May God give you plenty! Give this poor man something to eat.”

  Khadija said:

  “Get up, Fatima, give him something!”

  The beggar said:

  “No! Please, I don’t want my fate decided by Fatima!”

  So Thuraya said:

  “Get up, Khadija, you give him something!”

  The beggar said:

  “No! Please, I don’t want to be kidded by Khadija!”

  So Fatima said:

  “Get up, Thuraya!”

  “Yes!” said the beggar, “my heart and soul will thrive with Thuraya!”

  Thuraya went to hand him a round of bread. But “a beggar’s arm is short.” As the young woman stepped towards him, the beggar backed off step-by-step until he had drawn her away from the others. Then he picked her up, flung her over his shoulder, and fled. He rose into the air and flew, soaring higher and higher.

  “What can you see, Thuraya?” he asked.

  “I see only clouds girdling the sky.”

  He flew still higher and asked:

  “What do you see now, Thuraya?”

  “I see nothing but sky,” she said, “the blueness of the sky.”

  He flew with her until he reached his castle. He was a ghoul and his castle a ghoul’s palace, a vast palace empty of any human thing. He led her to the topmost room and locked her in. Thuraya became a prisoner. She spent her days sitting at the window. In the morning she watched the ghoul set out to hunt. All through the day she saw not a soul and heard not a sound. In the evening she watched the ghoul return, carrying a cow across his back, and on his shoulder, a tree. He would roast the cow on the embers of the tree, and when he finished gobbling and gulping his meal he would call:

  “O Thuraya, beauty fair!

  Let down your long, long hair!”

  And Thuraya would let down her long hair for the ghoul to climb up.

  So it went day after day until one day, while the ghoul was out hunting, Thuraya looked out her window and saw down below, hiding behind a tree, a young man as beautiful as a slice of the moon. He had heard the ghoul calling. She looked down and he looked up. When their eyes met, Thuraya let down her long hair and the handsome young man climbed up to her. They sat next to each other and she told him all that had happened to her and he told her that he had a horse tethered some distance away. All at once, as she looked through the window, Thuraya cried out in alarm:

  “I see a cloud of dust. It means the ghoul is on his way! He will eat us both if he sees you here.”

  Then Thuraya took a deep breath and blew on the youth. The young man was instantly transformed into a pomegranate, battered and worse for wear, which Thuraya tossed among the rest.

  Well, the ghoul arrived and after eating his fill he shouted at the top of his voice:

  “O Thuraya, beauty fair!

  Let down your long, long hair!”

  Thuraya let down her hair and the ghoul came up. As soon as he entered he began to sniff around.

  “You smell of humans, O Thuraya,” he said.

  “How could a human find his way here?” she asked. “The smell of humans is in your pockets and on your coat.”

  The ghoul went on sniffing here and there and said:

  “Give me a pomegranate – give me that withered one!”

  Thuraya gave him the pomegranate that he pointed to, but when he cut it open she secretly took and kept one seed without his noticing. She transformed her visitor into that one seed and hid it under her pillow.

  The next day, Thuraya waited for the ghoul to leave, then she changed the youth back to his human shape. She spent the whole day with him. The time flew by. She screamed when, through the window, she saw the ghoul approaching:

  “I see the dust he is kicking up! The ghoul is on his way! I’ll transform you into a piece of burnt bread.”

  She did this and stuck the burnt piece with the rest of the bread.

  The ghoul called out:

  “O Thuraya, beauty fair!

  Let down your long, long hair!”

  She let down her long hair and the ghoul climbed up. As he came in he sniffed around and said:

  “You smell of humans, O Thuraya!”

  “How could a human find his way here?” asked Thuraya, “The smell is on your cloak and in your pockets.”

  He continued sniffing here and there, and then he said:

  “Give me some bread. Give me the burnt piece.”

  He pointed to the piece he wanted. She gave it to him but kept a bit of crust, into which she transformed the young man. This too she hid under her pillow.

  The next morning, Thuraya changed the young man into his human shape again and passed the day with him until the ghoul’s return. Once more she was taken by surprise and cried,

  “The ghoul is on his way! I see the dust he is kicking up! Let me change you into a pearly pin.”

  She changed him into a hairpin and stuck it in her hair. The ghoul returned and called:

  “O Thuraya, beauty fair!

  Let down your long, long hair!”

  Thuraya let down her long hair and the ghoul climbed up. He entered sniffing her and said:

  “You smell of humans, O Thuraya.”

  She replied:

  “How could a human find his way here?

  You chomp all humans till they are dead,

  O, for a sword to chop off your head!”

  He sniffed and smelled her all over then he said:

  “Give me that pin to pick my teeth.”

  She gave him the pin but kept one pearl. She transformed the youth into the single pearl and hid it under her pillow.

  The following morning the ghoul went off and Thuraya returned the young man to his human shape. She said:

  “We must leave this place today and flee!”

  To make sure that nothing could betray them, Thuraya stained with henna every object in the ghoul’s palace. She rubbed henna on pestle and mortar, pitcher and jar, towel and basin, threshold and door latch. But she forgot the broom behind the door. Then she took her comb, her kohl holder, and her mirror and fled with the youth, riding behind him on his horse.

  In the evening, the ghoul returned from the hunt as usual, carrying a cow on his back and on his shoulder a tree. He roasted the cow on the embers of the tree; he ate and drank, g
obbling and gulping, until he felt full, then he called:

  “O Thuraya, beauty fair!

  Let down your long, long hair.”

  The basin responded:

  “She is taking a bath!” it said, “She is bathing!”

  He called again and the towel said:

  “She is drying herself. She is rubbing herself dry!”

  The ghoul went on calling and shouting until no object in the place was left to answer him but the broom behind the door:

  “Your broom brims with news: the human took her and left!”

  The ghoul was enraged. He raced after the pair, running as fast as he could, breaking his toe caps as he ran. Thuraya saw his dust in the distance. The ghoul was catching up. She quickly threw her comb behind her. The comb became a forest thick with trees. But the ghoul gnawed his way through, snapping and chewing one tree after the other until not one sapling was left. On he sped after them. Thuraya threw the kohl vial behind her. It roared into a raging fire. But the ghoul put out the flames, pissing here and pissing there until not one spark was left. On he chased after them. Thuraya threw the mirror behind her. It turned into a lake. The ghoul drowned in the water and died.

  So Thuraya and the handsome young man returned to the ghoul’s palace and there they lived, a happy pair.

  In peace and fruitfulness, many were their joys,

  And many were their children, both girls and boys.

  WHEN QUEEN MOTHER DIED

  We will speak: we have stories to tell,

  May our listeners live long and live well.

  THERE ONCE WAS A KING – though God alone is Sovereign. This king lived with his aging mother in a great palace in the center of the town. One day the king’s mother fell ill, very ill. She sensed that she was about to die. The king was alarmed. Fearing for his mother’s life, he summoned the leading physician in the kingdom to treat her. When the doctor came and examined the patient, he said:

  “O King of Our Time, your mother’s days are numbered. The only remedy we have is to ‘change her doorstep’ – to take her to some other house. Maybe the Angel of Death will lose track of her and she can be saved.”

  The king withdrew and sat apart, mournful and distraught. When his vizier saw him in this condition, he inquired what ailed him. The king recounted his trouble and the vizier said:

  “O King of the Age, we have to carry out the doctor’s prescription!”

  “But where shall I send my mother?” asked the king.

  “O King of the Age, what a question!” said the vizier. “I will take her into my own mansion and I will not permit the Angel of Death to touch her!”

  “My dear vizier,” said the king. “I refuse to let my mother die. You may take her. But listen and be warned: you must not bring me news of her death. If you do, I will cut off your head.” The vizier moved the king’s mother to his house and that same evening she died.

  Next morning the vizier was in a quandary; he didn’t know what to do. He went out and wandered aimlessly through the streets, trying to think how to break the news to the king that his mother had died; how to do this without having his head cut off. Walking around, he came across a young beggar who looked as bright as the moon at night. The vizier addressed him:

  “Young man, will you accept a gold lira to go and tell the king the news about his mother?”

  The youth agreed. He pocketed the gold coin and went on his way. Then he began to think to himself:

  “They gave me a whole lira of gold for a simple errand like this! There must be some trick or danger involved in the matter.”

  He went to the souk and bought a shroud which he carried under his cloak. He entered the king’s presence saying:

  “Peace be with you, O King of the Age!”

  The king received him and the young beggar continued:

  “O bountiful King,

  You own a lamp that is in the vizier’s house

  A breath of air blew in and now its light is out.”

  Hearing this, the king wailed at the top of his voice: “My mother has died! My mother is dead!”

  Then the beggar said:

  “I am a man of honor

  My shroud is under my arm

  Thank God, that you spoke the words of horror

  And that my tongue saved me from harm.”

  Then the youth pulled the shroud from inside his cloak to demonstrate that he had come prepared to die. The king’s anger drained from his heart. All he felt was surprise that a beggar off the street was able to convey news of the death, while his own vizier was at a loss for words and did not know how to tell him that his mother had died. So the king appointed the young beggar to take the vizier’s place.

  Now we have told you all there is to tell

  God grant you long lives and mercy on your dead as well.

  THE NIGHTINGALE THAT SPEAKS

  LONG AGO, IN A FORMER AGE and a bygone time, there was a king who wished to test the loyalty of his people. He issued a command that for one night no light must show in any part of the city. As no one dared to disobey the royal order, the whole city was plunged into darkness.

  On the edge of the town there was a modest house in which three sisters lived by themselves. They earned their living spinning wool. On the night of the king’s order, they covered their lamp with a large copper bowl in which they had pierced three holes. Each of the sisters sat by one of the openings, and in this way, they were able to see and continue spinning their wool.

  At the palace the king said to his vizier:

  “Let us go down to the vault where clothing is stored and dress ourselves like dervishes. Let’s see if anyone is breaking our rule.”

  Wearing clothes in which no one would recognize them, the two men wandered through the city. The only light they saw was a small spark at the edge of the town. Going up to the window of the house, the king and his minister looked inside and saw the young women spinning wool by the dim light of the covered lamp. They listened to them talking to each other.

  The oldest was saying:

  “If only I could marry the king’s baker, then I would eat the finest bread in the land!”

  The middle sister said:

  “If only I could marry the king’s cook, then I would eat the finest food in the land!”

  But the youngest sister said:

  “For myself, I would not accept anyone as a husband, not even the king’s son, unless he agreed to carry my clothes for me on my way to the Turkish bath. Only then would I marry him. And I would bear him a son with one lock of silver in his hair and a daughter with one lock of gold.”

  Then the girls fell silent and went on with their work by the light from the holes in the copper bowl.

  The king told his vizier to note who these sisters were and the next morning he sent a messenger to bring them. When the man summoned the three young women, they went with him, feeling very frightened. On reaching the palace, they found themselves face-to-face with the king and his vizier.

  “Peace be with our Sovereign,” they said in unison.

  The king greeted them and told them that he wanted to make their wishes come true. He asked the oldest sister what she wished for.

  “If only I could marry the king’s baker,” she said, “then I would be eating the finest bread in the land.”

  The king called the royal baker and said:

  “Your wish is granted: here is the king’s baker!”

  Then he asked the middle sister what her wish was and she said:

  “If only I could marry the king’s cook, then I would be eating the finest food in the land.”

  The king called the royal cook and said:

  “Your wish is granted: here is the king’s cook!”

  When he asked the youngest sister the same question, she said:

  “For myself, I would not accept anyone as a husband, not even the king’s son, unless he agreed to carry my clothes for me on my way to the Turkish bath. Only then would I marry him. And I would bear him
a son with a lock of silver in his hair and a daughter with a lock of gold.”

  The king told the prince:

  “Here is your bride!”

  “Let us set the date for the wedding,” said the king’s son, and he carried the youngest sister’s clothes to the Turkish bath for her.

  All three young women were married on the same day: the eldest to the royal baker, the middle sister to the royal cook, and the youngest to the king’s son. There followed days of festivity and nights of celebration and for the duration, no one ate or drank except from the king’s kitchen.

  It was a happy life until war broke out. The prince was duty-bound to lead his soldiers and defend his country. Before he departed he urged his mother to look after his wife, who was pregnant.

  The days passed, one like the other, and the eldest sister grew tired of eating fresh bread and baked goods that were finer than any others. The middle sister, too, was bored by the exceptional food that had no equal and of which there was plenty every day. Envy began to seep into the hearts of the two women, and they started to resent their youngest sister.

  The months went by quickly, though as they say, “sooner count the eggs you break into a pan than count the months of a woman’s pregnancy.” When the day came, the youngest sister gave birth to twins: a boy with a lock of silver in his hair and a girl with a lock of gold.

  The jealous sisters arranged with the midwife to substitute a kitten and a puppy for the two infants. The woman took the twins and tucked them into a large wicker basket, which she threw into the river. By the side of the young mother, she placed a kitten and a puppy.

  The courier who reached the prince brought him news that his wife had given birth to a kitten and a puppy dog. The prince refused to believe what he heard and he returned home immediately. When he arrived he found his wife in tears and the two little cubs by her side. His heart would not permit him to kill her, so he had her removed to the palace of isolation.