Climbing the Date Palm

by Shira Glassman

  “You’re sweet,” Kaveh mumbled, staring up at the ceiling with a silly grin on his face. He had never experienced as much pleasure before as on this night. The muscles in the back of his legs were sore from unfamiliar exertion. Maybe it was a good idea to stretch before this kind of thing as if you were exercising...?

  Farzin had picked up a date and was examining it in his hand. “So many people have to put in their hard work to make this little thing.”

  “How so?”

  “Not just whoever sold it to Eshvat,” Farzin explained, “but the worker who had to climb the tree to harvest it -- think how dangerous that is! -- and also the worker who had to go up there to hand-pollinate it.”

  “Why do they do it that way? Why can’t they just do it naturally?”

  “That way they only have to have one or two male trees for a whole orchard of females.”

  Kaveh chuckled. “Sounds like some guys I know.”

  “Count me out. Anyway, the female trees are the ones that bear the fruit, so it makes more sense economically to have more of them. Like with hens and roosters.”

  “I understand.”

  “So think about all those people... climbing up date trees, pollinating them, cultivating them, harvesting them, selling them... all for this tiny fruit.” Farzin rotated it in his hand, then popped it into Kaveh’s waiting mouth. “Everything we do, everything we accomplish -- lots of times, it’s with other people’s help, behind the scenes. People we don’t ever meet. I think about them a lot. Who raised the lamb we ate tonight? Who made those candles keeping it bright enough to see in here? We all need each other, and, ideally, we all keep each other going.”

  Kaveh thought about the stranger far away, climbing the date palm, slowly struggling against gravity and up toward the sun to reach the fruit that would earn his livelihood. Or her livelihood. Suddenly, each date was so much more valuable to him. They were the product of human labor. So much was the product of human labor. He had never really thought about it that way before, and he vowed to take it to heart.

  ***

  Love reigned across the City of the Red Clay that night. In Mother Cat’s Tavern, Kaveh memorized Farzin’s body, vowing to replace every tear and bruise from the prison with infinite kisses over the coming years. In the palace, Shulamit and Aviva quickly wore each other out and then lounged around naked talking about babies, while in Kaveh’s room, Rivka writhed joyously, her bare skin reveling under the alchemy of Isaac’s tongue. Even Eshvat was off somewhere in an alley, growling with pleasure over the shoulder of a young guard she’d found patrolling the river.

  Only Aafsaneh was alone. Deep within the city in a tiny garden no bigger than two elephants side by side, she knelt in the moonlight before the simple stone monument that marked the grave of the old man who had taught her to perform magic. “Master,” she whispered, tears falling down her cheeks, “I’m home.”

  Chapter 26: Created by Love, Surrounded by Love

  Under the clear, blue morning sky, the wedding procession made its way toward the Temple of the Twenty Date Palms. There was considerably less pomp than there had been when the Crown Prince married Azar, for Kaveh was only a third son and the wedding date had been set so suddenly. Also, the Citizens for the most part were ready to get back to work (or sleeping it off) after their night of revelry. But there were still a few people following the procession, and as it wound through the marketplace, the shopkeepers and fruit sellers came to the front of their stalls to watch them go by.

  They saw Prince Kaveh, a strapping figure of masculine beauty in his indigo garments with gold brocade, following his father on horseback. The change in his face between that last wedding and this one was remarked upon by more than one merchant. Where there had been distress, there was now peace; his panic had turned to potency.

  Then came the foreign queen, Shulamit, her beautiful “handmaiden” walking beside her horse clad all in fuchsia, and her two northern bodyguards leading the way on foot. She was decked from head to toe in brilliant yellow-green, decorated here and there with the bright green jewels that had been her mother’s. The cord holding her braids back behind her head was twisted all over with yellow flowers. Behind her came her entire Royal Guard, also on horseback.

  Isaac noticed, when they passed the jeweler’s shop where he had bought her the dragon necklace, that Delara was not outside watching with the others.

  ***

  When they arrived at the Temple, Shulamit peeped inside and was relieved to see that the chuppah had been set up correctly. “It’s so beautiful,” she commented to Rivka. “Every time I look at it I’m uncontrollably happy.”

  “Leah does fantastic work,” the captain agreed. She wiped sweat away from her face underneath the mask. “Nu? Are you ready?”

  Shulamit nodded. “Completely.”

  “You gave us such a beautiful wedding,” Rivka commented. “It hurts that I can’t repay you in kind, and you’re stuck up there with a man.”

  “No, really, it’s fine.” Shulamit smiled. “Even if I weren’t different, and liked boys, you think they’d let me marry the cook? That’s not what the life of the monarchy is like. There’s a price we have to pay for all the money and glory and power. But it’s okay -- he won’t touch me in any way that makes me uncomfortable, and I still have Aviva. This is just business. Politics.”

  “Level-headed little one.” Rivka squeezed Shulamit’s shoulder affectionately.

  “By the way, does Isaac have the magic worked out for... you know? Because.” Shulamit licked her lips awkwardly. “There’s... mucus. I think I might be ready for babies. I mean, from what Aafsaneh said...”

  “He’s all set. What, you want to try tonight?”

  “If we can. Otherwise it means waiting another month. And Kaveh’s already nearby.”

  Isaac drifted closer. “They’re ready for us.”

  Shulamit placed her arm inside his, and together they stepped into the path made resplendent for them by women throwing flowers.

  As she walked that scented aisle, she remembered her father’s voice. Lying on his deathbed, his body broken by the fall from the howdah, and his head muddy from herbs that were supposed to ease the pain, he had murmured over and over again with great sadness that he wouldn’t be able to walk her to the chuppah some day. The regret obsessed his mind in those final days, that he would be deprived of seeing his beloved little princess married.

  But he is here, Shulamit realized as she felt the presence of God surround her and wrap her shoulders like a shawl. Aba was there in everything he had taught her to be, strong and fair with her country and living up to her responsibilities to lead them in peace and prosperity. He was also there in the strength and determination with which she protected herself, and in the way she refused to give up even when things looked bleak. He was even there in her face, in those heavy eyebrows she recognized as his each time she saw herself in a mirror or on a coin.

  Isaac must have sensed her tears, perhaps from her grip tightening on his arm. “Your father is proud of you.”

  Shulamit didn’t know if the present tense was Isaac’s mistake in his second language or referring to him himself, and she didn’t care. They were both right. “Ikh hob dir lieb, Tateh,” she said in a choked-off voice.

  Under the chuppah, she and Kaveh joined hands and made vows to each other in the language of the north, so that they wouldn’t have to lie. “I promise never to touch you in any way that makes you uncomfortable,” Kaveh swore. He spoke with the great deliberation of one who has been coached in a language they barely understand.

  “I promise to protect you and your stepbrother and anyone else like us with all the power and might of my rank,” said Shulamit. She didn’t say Farzin’s name in case someone would recognize the syllables and wonder what they were doing there.

  “I promise not to embarrass your throne.”

  “I promise to be the best mother for our child that I can possibly be.”

  When they were decla
red married, Kaveh leaned forward and delicately kissed her cheek, the rest of his body an unthreatening distance away. Then they turned toward the spectators and raised their joined hands high. In the din of the resulting cheers, nobody heard her tell him, “We did it! We’re a team now.”

  “Who wouldn’t want to be on a team with you?” Kaveh replied. “After what you’ve done for me, I owe you enough babies to make a small orchestra.”

  “We’re starting with one,” she retorted with a smirk. “Good grief, that’s gonna be hard enough.”

  After last night’s heavy feasting on meat, everyone was relieved to see a light spread of cold vegetables and fish waiting for them outside. There was a brief amount of dancing and eating, Shulamit even dancing with Rivka in a moment of sisterly ecstasy over the success of their mission, and then the visitors prepared to leave.

  King Jahandar’s wedding present was a sumptuous carriage drawn by two horses, in which they’d be making the journey back to Shulamit’s palace. Rivka volunteered to drive, to keep Jahandar from sending his own man. Isaac transformed into his dragon form, drawing noises of marvel and awe from the crowd, and flew on ahead with Aviva on his back, while Shulamit and Kaveh followed in the carriage with the Royal Guard as their escort. They parted the curtains on each side of the carriage to wave at the Citizens as they departed, smiles shining broadly on each of their faces.

  Kaveh promptly fell asleep once they were beyond the city walls, having spent a good part of the night with Farzin, but when he woke up he was happy and full of chatter. Today had been an intersection of past and future, and they spent hours talking about both. “I’m really looking forward to learning how a winery works.”

  “So you and Farzin will be running the farm once his mother marries your father?”

  “Isn’t it perfect? And it’s close enough to your capital that we’ll get to be a part of the child’s life.”

  “To be honest, I’m curious about the winery myself.”

  “Why are we stopping?”

  They could hear Rivka yelling at something. Shulamit pushed aside the curtain and peered into the dusk. “It’s Isaac! And Aafsaneh’s with him.”

  Kaveh sprang up and stuck his head outside. In the sky, a dark-green dragon and a brilliant-blue swan flew about together, in tandem, each carrying a human on their backs. “Farzin!”

  The flying creatures approached them, and landed gracefully beyond the group of horses. Kaveh tumbled out of the carriage and ran towards Farzin, who was dismounting from his mother’s back. Then he stopped abruptly.

  Shulamit followed along behind him, and he turned back to her with a jerk, a questioning look in his eyes. “It’s okay. You’re among friends.”

  Kaveh rushed the rest of the way towards the grinning engineer and grabbed him in a strong, grappling hug. They embraced tightly, and then unpeeled from each other to walk back towards the carriage. “My brother is so handsome,” Farzin joked to everyone else.

  “You’re going to do that forever, aren’t you,” Kaveh realized out loud.

  “Only if you stay handsome forever,” Farzin retorted. “If you don’t I’ll have to start saying other things like ‘so hardworking’ or ‘so eager to learn’ or--”

  “Can we meet properly?” Shulamit interrupted. “Your mother rushed you away so quickly I didn’t see that much of you back in the City.”

  “Oh! That’s right. Are you the queen? Majesty...” All frivolity dropped from Farzin’s face. “I owe you my life. I--thank you. Thank you.”

  Shulamit grinned, taking Aviva’s hand as she faced him. “Welcome to the family.”

  “I like it here already!”

  Isaac and Aafsaneh were human now. “We caught up with them a little while ago and figured this might be a good place for everyone to camp for the night,” Isaac explained.

  Rivka nodded, surveying the land. “He means more than camping,” she murmured to Shulamit. “I told him what you said before the wedding.”

  Shulamit cringed, but her discomfort floated away as she decided that Isaac knowing her medical details was better than the fate from which his magic was saving her.

  Under the darkening sky, the Guard and the royal family prepared their camp, and then it was time for dinner. As Shulamit and Aviva were finishing their meals in the firelight, Isaac appeared between them, his head near their shoulders and his voice low and conspiratorial. “Are you ready to conceive?”

  Shulamit grinned nervously. “I’m ready and I’m not ready and I’m scared and I’m really excited.”

  “We’ve been scheming,” Aviva explained.

  Isaac took Shulamit’s hand in his right hand and Aviva’s in his left. “Now, mammelehs, my magic will keep Kaveh’s contribution alive until it reaches your body. The rest may happen tonight, or in a month, two months -- we hope. It might take more than one try, and even then there’s no guarantee. But you have all of my blessings.”

  “Thank you.” Shulamit smiled weakly.

  “Give me your hairsticks,” said Isaac to Aviva.

  Down around her shoulders tumbled Aviva’s thick, dark hair as she plucked out the accessories and handed them to the wizard. Shulamit watched, wide-eyed, full of intellectual curiosity as always.

  Isaac drifted away toward where Kaveh and Farzin sat with Aafsaneh on the other side of the fire, talking about the vineyard. They watched him put a hand on Kaveh’s shoulder and say a few words. Kaveh stood instantly, and Farzin joined him, more slowly because he was still healing from his month in Jahandar’s prison. Together they followed Isaac away into the darkness beyond the campfire’s glow. Aafsaneh squeezed Farzin’s hand as he passed, a look of maternal devotion and nostalgia glimmering in her eyes.

  “Why is Farzin going with him?”

  “When he touches Kaveh, he’ll be a part of it the same way I will when I give you the hairstick.”

  “I guess that’s symmetrical,” Shulamit agreed. “Wow, this little one’s going to have two mothers and two fathers.”

  “Plus Isaac and Riv, and Aafsaneh. Created by love but also surrounded by love.”

  “And your parents. Thank you for giving me an extra set of parents since the baby will never know mine.”

  “He will. She will. We’ll tell it stories. I remember Noach too. So do lots of people.”

  Shulamit sighed and squeezed Aviva’s hands.

  She tried to relax, but it was difficult, knowing how important tonight could be. Resting her head on Aviva’s shoulder, she began to sing softly. Aviva harmonized with her in a rich, gentle alto, her arm around the queen, idly caressing the bare skin of her upper arm. It was more than simple physicality. Shulamit perceived the serenity of a divine benevolence in the way this touch made her feel. Jahandar and his daughter-in-law were tiny in the distance, their bigotry drowned out by a broad black sky full of watchful stars. This was the real truth, this existence out here, in which she knew that her love, their love, was as pure and blessed as any union of man and wife.

  Out here in nature, away from the palace and between nations, was she really still queen? Was she not, here in the open, just a woman, one of millions, lucky enough to have been granted one amazing person with whom to share her life and her love? She’d never expected that a teenage dalliance with a cook could have led to this, back in those days when they were just friends who discovered they enjoyed each other’s warmth. Over the years, the more she’d learned of Aviva, the more she realized the depth of her love. It was so right, so natural, so intended that Aviva should be sharing this next step with her.

  Finally, the men returned to the campsite. Farzin and Kaveh were holding hands and trying to look innocent, but just before they reached the others, Kaveh darted forward and kissed Farzin for what was obviously not the first time that night. “They look so cute, all newlywed like that,” Aviva commented.

  “I guess they are,” Shulamit realized. She was looking more at Isaac. He was holding one hairstick before him like a magic wand, his scarred right hand c
upped underneath its tip. Deep breaths slowly coursed through her lungs as she tried to calm herself.

  “Let’s go. He’s ready for us.”

  They met up with Isaac halfway back to the carriage. “Everything go as planned?” Shulamit asked awkwardly.

  “Kaveh insisted on reciting some ornate verses I bet he stored up just in case,” Isaac remarked. “Like son, like father. At least his rhymed.”

  “Did you have to watch them?”

  Isaac lifted an eyebrow. “What, that part? No. I transformed and shielded their privacy with my wings. They were just holding hands and making promises, at first, but once the talk slowed down I kept my head up, watched for danger -- and stayed out of their business.”

  Aviva reached the carriage first. She held the curtains for her to let Shulamit slip back inside, then followed.

  Isaac stuck the front half of his body in with them for a moment. “Aviva, you understand what to do?”

  Aviva nodded, taking the hairstick from him carefully. On its tip glowed a pulsing light, coming from something white that looked a little bit like coconut oil. Aviva had seen it before. Shulamit hadn’t, and looked away, feeling bile rise in her throat.

  “It’s okay -- you don’t have to look at it,” Aviva reassured her.

  Shulamit lay down across the seat of the carriage, pulling out the cord that held her braids together. Yellow flowers spilled across the seat cushions, but she didn’t care.

  “I’ll be out here -- I’ll stand guard and keep this private.” With a swish of curtains, Isaac left them alone in the carriage.

  Shulamit removed a few layers of clothing, then pooled her dress up around her waist. “Can you see?” The carriage was lit only by the glow of the hairstick and some firelight that could slip through the curtains.