by Aisha Saeed
Omar took the coins from Aladdin and handed them to the woman. She stared at the money.
“I don’t understand,” she said slowly.
“Is it enough?” Aladdin asked. “I can give you more if you need to tide yourself over for a little while longer.”
“Y-y-yes, it is enough. N-n-no, I don’t need more. But sir, I can’t.” She shook her head. “I am capable of working for it. I want to.”
“I appreciate your work ethic,” Aladdin told her. “But sometimes we need help, and we have to be strong enough to accept it. Especially when it’s a matter of grave importance. You need to care for your family. When things are better, you can help others, and in this way, the work continues. Would those be acceptable terms?”
“I will never…” The woman’s voice choked up. “I will never be able to repay you for your generosity. Yes. Once I can get back on my feet—I will pass this generosity you have offered me onward. In whatever way that I can, I will. I swear it, Prince Ali. Thank you.” The woman clasped her hands to her chest in gratitude before leaving.
“That was very generous,” Jasmine told him once the woman had left.
“I know money won’t solve all the problems that come through this door, but sometimes all people need is a break when they need it most.”
“Giving money to people when they need it is a very kind gesture.” She hesitated. “But is there a system in place for people like this that could help further?”
“A system?”
“I’ve read about something similar in one of my favorite books. It’s about legendary leaders,” she said. “I read in there that some kingdoms have free clinics. They pay for doctors and herbalists to set aside time every week to meet the needs of those who cannot afford such things on their own. Once that woman runs out of that money, she may still need more assistance—and it was so difficult for her to accept what you gave her as it was, who knows if she’d come to ask again? A free clinic could be a way to not only help her get the regular assistance she’ll most likely need, but it could help others throughout the kingdom. It’s something I’ve been trying to talk to my father about for our own kingdom, in fact.”
“That’s a great idea,” Aladdin said, touched to know Jasmine was trying to do this for Agrabah. He could only imagine what a service like that could have done for his mother when she had fallen ill with no means to pay for medicine or a doctor’s visit.
The next people who approached the podium had simple enough issues. Two neighbors bickering about a shared water pump they’d installed between their homes; each neighbor believed the other used it more. Aladdin smiled a bit. This very issue was one his friends back in Agrabah had once had. Just as he had back home, Aladdin drew up an equitable schedule for them to put up in their homes. Of course, back in Agrabah, the schedule was written on a scrap of paper and not on a fancy papyrus scroll, but the end result was still the same: both men walked away pleased.
The next two people who arrived were disagreeing about a fence one of them was planning to install.
“He’s trying to build up a wall,” the woman complained. “Yes, it’s his property, I’m not arguing the legality of it—but it is the fastest path for me to get to the town square. To do this now, at my old age? It’s downright cruel, my prince.”
“Wouldn’t need to put up a fence if your goats didn’t chew up my gardens,” the man snapped. “I should be charging you to put up the fence!”
“There are no other ways to stop the goats besides putting up a fence?” Aladdin asked.
“I tried roping them in,” the woman said. “But they chewed right through the ropes. Had a metal enclosure for them, but they managed to break that down as well.”
“That’s why I got the sturdy kind of fence coming up now,” the man said, nodding.
“But they’re just sweet little babes. If they eat a vegetable now and then, what’s the harm? How many cheeses have I given you over the years out of neighborly affection? That fence is going to add an extra twenty minutes to my trips into town. You know how my knees ache.”
Aladdin turned to Jasmine. “Any ideas?” he asked her.
“Me?” Jasmine looked startled for a second. “Is it okay for me to intrude?”
“Intrude? I welcome your wisdom, Princess.”
Jasmine thought for a moment and then turned to the people.
“I understand the predicament,” she said. “Nothing is stopping those goats, and a fence may be the only way. Your neighbor is entitled to not have his hard work eaten.”
“See?” The man glared at the woman.
“But it’s also unfortunate this means she’ll have to walk so far to get to town,” Jasmine continued. “It was so nice of you to allow her to pass through your property all these years.”
“I wish I didn’t have to do this.” The man’s expression softened. “But the goats can’t be stopped any other way.”
“Perhaps a gate?” Jasmine asked. “Once the fence is up, a gate could help her come to and from while keeping your land secure.”
“I had thought about that,” the man said. “But that would cost far more money than I can manage. Putting the fence up is difficult enough.”
“Perhaps you can pay for the cost of the gate?” Aladdin suggested to the woman. “May be worth it.”
“I suppose that’s fair,” the woman said grudgingly.
“I’ll ask the workers about adding one once I get back,” the man said. Both walked away satisfied.
“You doing all right?” Aladdin asked Jasmine after the thirty-eighth query. The line was moving steadily, but it had been a while. “You can always take a break or go rest in one of the guest suites while I finish up.”
“And miss all of this?” Jasmine exclaimed. “I’m going to tell my father all about how well it’s all working here in Ababwa when I get back. We need to have meetings like this with our own subjects back home.”
“But you’ve never been to Ababwa, right?” Aladdin winked.
“Oh. That’s right…” Jasmine said. Her smile faded a bit.
“I was only teasing,” Aladdin said quickly.
“No, it’s just that you are right. I can’t tell him about any of this. It’s awful how much I can’t share with him.” She sighed. “But I can still tell him about this idea. Even if I can’t tell him how I know it would work so well.”
Aladdin flushed at the praise. It felt good to know that because of the time they’d spent together, Jasmine might be able to encourage her father to implement something similar in Agrabah. This trip could possibly lead to real change back home. Agrabah would benefit from its subjects being heard. That much was certain.
A woman approached the podium next. A small boy was draped across her like a blanket, his arms limp at his sides, his head burrowed in the crook of her neck. Aladdin understood before she spoke why this woman had come.
“My name is Maha.” The woman trembled. “This is my son, Usman. I’m not even sure why I’m here for a matter that advice cannot possibly fix, but”—her eyes welled with tears—“if there was even a small chance something could be done to help my child, I had to try.”
“I understand it’s hard to ask for help,” Aladdin said gently. “Please tell us. What is the nature of your son’s illness?”
“Fevers. He gets high fevers that leave him unable to do anything at all. Even sips of water require effort.”
“Do you need money for a doctor?” Aladdin reached for his coin purse. He thought of Jasmine’s idea for a clinic.
“We’ve taken him to many different doctors. Nothing can be done. He had these fevers as a baby, but they went away. Now, with the weather so warm of late, the illness returned. We put cool washcloths on him, keep him in the shade—nothing helps. And when he’s feverish he won’t eat, and when he won’t eat he can’t function, and then…well, what will become of my boy?” She let out a sob. “My husband and I are awning makers. It’s our livelihood, but we can’t work while he’s so sick. P
eople say they understand the delays, but they will lose their patience soon enough. And less money from the work being done means less resources for us to feed our family. It’s…difficult.”
“I understand,” Aladdin said. He knew all too well how quickly an illness could leave a family destitute. But what on earth could he say to this woman to help her?
“I’m sorry about your son,” Jasmine said. “Have you spoken with the local apothecary? Someone had come earlier and mentioned that they are a bit pricey, but good at finding cures.”
“They tried many different concoctions, but none of them work. The local herbalist tried as well.” She paused. “I’m sorry for wasting your time. No one can help me. I suppose I just felt desperate.” She turned to leave.
“Wait,” Aladdin called out. “Maha, don’t leave yet. Just give me a moment. I want to help you.”
But how?
Maha stood to the side as another woman marched up to the podium. Her hair flowed dark against her shoulders, on her arm dangled a gilded cage filled with the most unusual bees. They were the size of a clenched fist, their gold-and-black bodies shimmering as though they had been dipped in glitter when they fluttered back and forth.
“They’re moving very slowly,” Jasmine observed.
“Yes, Princess, they are,” the woman responded. Indeed, it was true. While they were lovely to behold, Aladdin didn’t need to ask why the woman was here. Even from where he was sitting he could see the bees were not well. They spun about in circles as though dizzy, crashing into one another. “My name is Zaria, and I came here because my bees are dying. They need your help.”
“What happened to them?”
“The heat,” the woman explained. “I once had colonies of thousands of bees. They are usually quite strong; they can even sting without dying. But now I’m down to a handful. These bees are the healthy ones I could bring along to show you.”
“They are honey bees?” Jasmine asked.
“Yes.” She nodded. “They are also my life’s work. These bees make medicinal honey that can heal people. It cures ailments no other medicine can, and now it’s all coming to an end because each season is hotter than the last. They drop like flies; they’re not made for the heat like this. They managed to at least hold on in the past, but lately their natural habitat, the olive trees behind our home, are losing their leaves. The canopy had kept them shaded, but the leaves have been blistering and falling off because of the weather.”
“The bees can’t be moved indoors?”
“I tried that when I got desperate enough, but it didn’t work. They need the outdoors and sunlight like they need air. It’s just their temperament. We’ve been fanning them around the clock, but it doesn’t make a lick of difference.”
“Has the local veterinarian had a chance to see them?”
“She’s tried her best,” Zaria said. “But as I mentioned, these are one-of-a-kind bees, and the last of their kind at that. There isn’t much anyone can really do to cure them. Don’t know why I came, really.” She shifted the cage to her other arm. “Suppose I wanted someone to just hear my pain, is all.”
“I know how that is,” Maha said. Her son was still asleep on her shoulder. “Talking about what ails won’t necessarily fix things, but there is solace in being heard.”
Aladdin swallowed. Two people in a row whom he could not help. He knew not all problems had solutions, but it was a heavy realization when he was the one who was supposed to be doing the solving.
“The bees make honey that heal people, right?” Jasmine said after a moment.
“They can. It has saved people in this very kingdom, and neighboring ones, too.”
“Do you have any left?”
“Wish I did, Princess. Used to have reserves for months and months, but with their low production lately it’s all gone now.”
“I see.” Jasmine looked disappointed. “I had hoped that perhaps if you had any to spare it might be able to help Maha’s little Usman.”
“We’d tried the honey with him before,” Maha said. “When he was a baby and the first fever struck we went to her straightaway. Zaria was generous. Gave us a batch for free to try out, but it didn’t do a thing. Thankfully the weather improved and his fevers went away, so it wasn’t a problem after that.”
“I remember your boy.” The beekeeper nodded. “Sorry to see the fevers have struck him again. The honey doesn’t work with the little ones for some reason. I’ve tried tweaking the properties over the years but can’t get it to work.”
“How old is your son now?” Jasmine asked.
“Five days shy of three years old.”
“Could the honey help a child that old?”
“Possibly.” Zaria looked over at the boy. “It’s worked for children a bit older than him. It would have been worth a try, had I any honey to give him.”
Aladdin glanced at Jasmine; she looked deep in thought.
“Maha, you said you make awnings?” Jasmine finally said. “And Zaria, you said the trees losing their leaves is why your bees are suffering more this year, correct?”
“Yes.” Zaria nodded. “But awnings won’t help the bees. They are very particular about the olive tree’s leaves providing shade.”
“What if the awnings looked like the leaves of the olive trees? What if Maha could make awnings in the same shape as those leaves? Green fabric and all? Is that possible?” Jasmine looked at Maha.
“I could make it, yes.” Maha nodded. “Never made leaflike awnings before, of course, but I have done more unusual designs than that. I have some firm wires I can use to attach them to the trunk—I could at least give it a try.”
“Might work for a short while, at least,” Zaria said slowly. She smiled for the first time. “Worth a shot, anyway.”
“And if the bees had their shade…” Jasmine said.
“They could make honey for Usman,” Aladdin said excitedly.
“They can make honey again in a matter of days if they’re secure.” Zaria nodded. “I don’t know for sure if it can help your boy, and we’d need to see how the bees would react to the artificial shade, but maybe—just maybe—it could work.” She turned to Maha. “We can hope, can’t we?”
“Hope is more than what I came in with.” Maha’s eyes welled with tears. “Thank you, Prince Ali and Princess Jasmine. Thank you both for your help.”
“Of course,” Jasmine said. “I hope it works.”
“Me too,” Aladdin agreed.
Both of them were silent as they watched the women leave.
“That was such a simple solution,” Aladdin said finally.
“Well, we don’t know if it will work just yet.”
“But still, it’s something to try that hasn’t been done before. And no one had thought about it until now.”
“Sometimes, when you’re so deeply involved in the pressures and the stress and your mind is so consumed by fear, you can miss easy solutions,” Jasmine said.
At that moment, Omar approached them.
“We have one last person,” he announced. “It’s the man who came to the palace earlier. He put up such a fuss about being seen first that by the time he agreed to wait with the others, he ended up last in line. I will summon him now.”
Aladdin looked at the paintings gracing the walls as Omar went to the door. The images of Ababwa. His kingdom. He and Jasmine were equals taking on the world together here. They sat in this very room and changed people’s lives, working side by side. Back in Agrabah, both of their lives were difficult in different ways. Aladdin had to figure out where his next meal would come from, while Jasmine was stuck in a sort of gilded cage of her own. Though he knew Ababwa wasn’t real, it would be as long as Jasmine and Aladdin remained here.
He wished they didn’t have to leave at all. But, of course, he knew wishes were tricky things.
“THE CARPET is still fast asleep, isn’t it?” Jasmine observed. She leaned down and gently petted its soft fabric.
“Yep, looks a
ll tuckered out, still.” Ali looked affectionately at the magic rug. Then he turned to Jasmine. “Once this next person leaves, if you’re still up for it, I’d love to show you the gardens and grounds.”
“And the surprise?”
“Still remember that, huh?”
“As if I could forget,” Jasmine laughed. She rested her back against the high-backed cushioned chair and thought back to all the people they’d met today. She didn’t know if her idea would work for Zaria and Maha, but the two families thought they’d tried everything, and she’d given them one more chance to hope. She marveled at how easily Ali welcomed her advice and treated her as a peer. The more time she spent in Ababwa, the more she found herself falling for this charming little kingdom. And—she glanced at Ali—for him.
But before Jasmine could think upon this much more, her warm feelings disappeared as she saw the person walking into the Advisory Hall now.
It was him.
The man she’d glimpsed among the well-wishers when they had first arrived at the palace. The one who’d glared at them and made the hairs on the back of her neck tingle, just as they did now. She wondered what it was about this man that put her off as it did. Sure, he clearly wasn’t as impressed as everyone else was with the prince. But unhappy subjects were part of the deal when it came to ruling a kingdom. It was more than that making Jasmine feel so uncomfortable. She frowned at his thin silvery hair—he was so familiar. It was almost as if she knew him, though she was completely certain they had never met before.
The man ambled up to the podium. Up close he was taller than he’d looked from afar. Scrawnier, too. His shirt was tattered and his hair was matted with dirt. Even from where he stood a fair distance away, Jasmine recognized the faint smell of salt water wafting over to them.