The Zanzibar Wife

  “I do not! And so what if I did? There’s no way I could ever be in any sort of relationship with that kind of man, with that kind of family.”

  “Why not? They seem perfectly nice to me.” All Rachel wanted was a bottle of water and a place to lie down.

  “What don’t you get about this? People like that are dangerous!”

  “People like that? What the hell does that even mean?”

  “It’s black magic, Rachel. These people have powers that are not always used for good. Don’t you think that if they can convince the jinn to leave a person alone they can also talk them into doing things for them? These people are not safe to be around, are not to be trusted. And believe me, they aren’t the ones to turn to for help. It is God, and only God, who is the ultimate protector.” Ariana’s face dropped into her hands. “It’s all my own fault,” she cried. “Why didn’t I listen to my parents?”

  “Would you just stop already? Jesus, Ariana—wait, did you hear that?”

  “What? Hear what?” Ariana’s head jerked up, her eyes darting frantically from one end of the souk to the other.

  “Nothing. I just thought—”

  “Thought what? What did you hear?” She stumbled as she rose from the stoop.

  “Someone. Something. Shhh, listen.”

  The whispers that had caught Rachel’s ear were now multiplying, bubbling from the dark corners of the square like the buzzing of a curious mob.

  “Who’s there?” Rachel shouted. And then, in an instant, silence. “Shit. That was really weird.” She heaved a sigh as she steadied herself against the archway’s worn wooden pillar.

  “Rachel! Don’t!”

  Ariana’s screamed warning was the last thing Rachel remembered hearing before it all went dark.

  27

  Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Hani’s thoughts echoed his heavy footsteps as he paced the length of the patio’s four walls. What was I thinking, letting things get so far with that ridiculous woman? I must have been out of my mind. A woman like that, with her fancy clothes and fancy ideas and her nose in the air, without an ounce of respect for who I am, who could never love or respect my family for who they are. How could I have been taken by her, knowing how wrong she was for me? The argument with Ariana had left him bitter and bruised. But it wasn’t until after he exchanged words with his mother that he realized just how selfishly he’d behaved with Ariana.

  “Well, that will be that,” his mother had said as she cleared away the rest of the meal.

  “That will be what?” he asked.

  “The way that girl looked at you, it is clear what she thought.”

  Hani could feel his face redden.

  “Don’t act like you do not know what I’m talking about. You are a man, not a boy.”

  “Don’t worry, Mother. Ariana is not the woman for me.”

  “I know that. But do you think she knew that? At least now she does.”

  “So you were listening?”

  “It was hard not to hear her squawking.”

  Hani tried hard to remember exactly what had been said.

  “A woman of that age. I am sure she has been divorced. Am I right?”

  Hani didn’t answer.

  “And does she not even know about the law that forbids an Omani from marrying a foreigner?”

  “There are ways to get permission.”

  “Ah, so you have thought about this woman in this way!”

  “No!” Hani protested. “It was just a response to your question.”

  “Well, it does not matter now.”

  “No, it does not.”

  “Good.”

  “Yes. Good.”

  Her words only served to reinforce what Hani had known all along. No matter what he had thought about Ariana, his mother would never have given her permission. And he would never have dishonored his mother by not heeding her wishes. But that did not mean he had to act like a snake. Imagine if someone had carried on with one of his sisters the way he had carried on with Ariana. He knew plenty of brothers who would do terrible things to avenge those who had dishonored their sisters the way he had dishonored her. The shame washed over him like blood from a slaughter. He had to go find her. Though there was truly no forgiveness for what he had done, he nevertheless had to apologize. Hani headed to the front gate.

  “Where are you going?” his mother called from the doorway of the house.

  “I will go see that they got to the hotel without a problem.”

  His mother raised one eyebrow in a look he knew well.

  “They are guests in our country,” he said. “We cannot forget the way of our people, Mother. We must make sure they feel welcome and safe.”

  The hotel was dark, the lights coming on one by one as Hani pounded on the heavy wooden door. “We are closed!” a voice shouted from inside. “No more room!”

  “Please,” Hani pleaded. “I am looking for two women.”

  “We are not that kind of place!” the man yelled through the door.

  “No, they are my friends. It is me, Hani. I need to know they are safe.”

  “There are no two women staying in this hotel. Say salaam to your father for me, and get home safely. Goodnight!”

  Hani watched as the lights went off, then turned and peered into the darkness before him. “Ariana!” he roared into the night. “Rachel! Where are you?”

  The streets were silent, save for the scraping of papers and leaves as they skittered across the ground under the spell of the winds. “Ariana!” Hani began the trek downward, his eyes peeled for any trace of the two women, pausing every few steps to listen for voices, footsteps, anything.

  It wasn’t until he was nearly at the bottom of the hill that he heard Ariana’s shouts through the open entryway of the souk. “Rachel!” she cried. “Where are you?”

  He found Ariana trembling on the other side of the gate, looking so frail and frightened that he was tempted to once again take her in his arms.

  “She’s gone!” Ariana sobbed.

  Hani’s eyes flashed around the shadows of the souk. The moonlight shimmered in a macabre dance across the silent square.

  “I swear, one minute she was right next to me, talking to me, and then she just disappeared!”

  “You were both here in the souk?”

  Ariana nodded.

  “Rachel!” Now it was Hani’s deep voice that echoed across the courtyard.

  “What happened to her, Hani?”

  Hani quickly turned his focus from where it had become fixed on the infamous doorway, the mysterious Pillar of Goats, hoping Ariana hadn’t noticed. “I’m sure she will be fine.”

  “How do you know?” she wailed. “This can’t be happening. We have to find her!”

  “We will find her. Don’t worry.” Hani peered into the far corners of the souk, searching for movement.

  “How can I not worry? I know what goes on here. I’m not an idiot!”

  “This is very strange.”

  “Strange? That’s what you people call this?” she shrieked.

  “No, I mean it is strange that the gates to the souk are open. They are usually left closed, locked for the night. Nobody comes here after dark.” Hani struggled to mask the worry in his voice. Suddenly a shadow passed overhead that made them both raise their heads in alarm.

  “What was that?” Ariana moved in closer next to him.

  “A cloud.”

  “A cloud? That was no cloud! Stop lying to me, Hani. Enough. Just stop it.”

  Hani felt Ariana’s words cut straight into his heart. “Come,” he said as he hurried her out of the souk. “Let’s go and search the streets. The storm has settled, the moon is bright. We will find Rachel.”

  They roamed the winding streets surrounding the market, with not a word between them as they scoured every inch of road with eyes wide open, both taking turns yelling out Rachel’s name. Nearly an hour of searching turned up nothing but overturned garbage bins, stray cats, and parked cars nearly indisti
nguishable under inches of red-orange dust. Hani was about to suggest they return home and resume their search in the daylight when Ariana suddenly came to a halt at an intersection in the road.

  “Quick, give me your phone,” she cried. In the phone’s bright light Hani saw what she had seen—the deep imprint of a small but heavy boot stamped squarely into the dust to their left. “It’s her! I know it.” Ariana exhaled with both a sob and a laugh. “Her and her stupid Timberlands.”

  “They continue that way.” Hani pointed to where the road narrowed into a dim alleyway. “But where did they come from?” To their right, the road leading up to that first footprint was completely untouched, the thick layer of sand as smooth as a freshly vacuumed carpet.

  “Come on!” Ariana started down the dark corridor, Hani following the beacon of light from the phone as it washed from side to side across the alley in front of them. “Up there!” His eyes followed the direction of Ariana’s trembling finger to where, in the distance, he saw the silhouette of a hunched figure rocking back and forth like a pendulum, smack in the middle of the narrow road.

  They rushed together to where Rachel stood, her matted hair and glazed eyes speaking of an experience far beyond that of a person who had simply lost her way.

  Ariana threw her arms around Rachel and squeezed tight, only to be met by a stiffness that Hani could almost feel himself. “You’re here! Are you all right? I was so worried about you!” She stood back a little and looked Rachel over from top to bottom and back again, as though reassuring herself that the woman was still in one piece. “What happened? Who did this to you?”

  Rachel remained silent, her eyes clouded with confusion.

  “We must get her home,” Hani insisted as he slid the backpack from Rachel’s shoulders. Ariana took the lead, holding fast to her friend’s arm. “You are coming to my home as well?” Hani called from behind.

  Ariana stopped and turned. “Of course I’m coming. I can’t leave her alone in this state. What kind of a person do you take me for?”

  “I’m sorry, Ariana. It’s just that after what you said before—”

  “Stop, Hani.” She waited for Hani to pass, and then followed him back up the hill in silence with Rachel safely in her grasp.

  The sitting room was quiet when they entered, the television off, the dishes and mat gone from view, the dust swept away, the pillows neatly arranged across the long sofas. Hani placed Rachel’s backpack gently on the floor as Ariana guided her down to a seat, removing her vest and lifting her legs onto the cushion as Hani handed her a thick blanket to spread across Rachel’s shivering body.

  “I feel like the morning after an all-nighter. What happened to me?” Rachel’s voice was indeed slightly slurred, her eyes glassy and dull.

  “You’re asking me?” Ariana scooched in beside her and took Rachel’s limp hand in her own.

  “Well, I sure don’t know. Did I pass out or something?”

  Ariana shook her head. “Not that I know of.”

  “I must have. I feel so weak.”

  “But I don’t think you did.”

  “My camera!” Rachel bolted upright.

  “Shhh, it’s right here. Calm down.”

  She slumped back onto the pillows. “So how did I get there, where you found me?”

  Ariana turned to Hani for an answer.

  “Please,” he said with a finger to his lips, “do not wake my family.” He poured water from a pitcher on the teacart and handed the glass to Rachel.

  “So how did I get there?” she asked again, this time in a whisper.

  “I’m not sure,” Ariana answered, her eyes still on Hani.

  “What do you mean you’re not sure? The last thing I remember we were together, in the souk. Right?”

  “We were.”

  “And?”

  “And then you were gone.”

  “That’s crazy! Maybe we both passed out or something,” suggested Rachel.

  “That’s not what happened,” Ariana responded.

  “Must have.”

  Ariana again turned to Hani. He shrugged his shoulders.

  “Wait.” Rachel raised herself up onto her elbows. “That old woman, the one with the goat. She was there! She grabbed my arm, and I left with her.”

  Hani saw Ariana’s eyes suddenly widen, and then just as quickly return to normal. “There was no woman with a goat, Rachel. There was nobody there but us.”

  “She wanted to show me something. I think I might have taken pictures.” Rachel lunged for her backpack, only to fall back dizzily onto the sofa.

  “You must try to relax. For your health.” Hani held his arms stiffly at his sides. “Please, have some more water.”

  “But you must have seen her, Ariana. She was right there!”

  “I swear, Rachel, nobody was there. Nobody that I could see, at least.”

  “But she was! Maybe you were just too upset about everything else to notice.”

  Hani felt Rachel’s eyes upon him as he turned his back to the two women. “I will get some tea.”

  By the time he returned with the tray, a restless Rachel had stepped out to the patio to wash the dust from her face and arms. He sat on the sofa across from Ariana. “I am sorry you are stuck here for the night,” he said as he poured from the pot.

  “Sometimes you do what you have to do.” Ariana’s gaze was pointed toward her feet. “What happened to her, Hani?”

  “Don’t worry. She will be all right.”

  “How can you be sure of that?” Her head shot up. “She vanished right in front of my eyes! I might have been upset, but I’m not blind.”

  Now it was Hani who looked awkwardly away. “I will take you both back to Nizwa first thing in the morning, after breakfast,” he said.

  “No need. I’ll use Rachel’s phone to arrange for a real driver. We’ll be gone before you and your family are up.”

  “If that is what you want.”

  “Yes, it’s what I want.”

  “Look, Ariana—”

  “Please, don’t.”

  Hani stood to hand her a cup, the steam curling over his outstretched hand like a thick morning fog. “I’m so sorry, Ariana,” he blurted out. “Inshallah you will find all you want and all your dreams of happiness will come true.”

  “And you as well.” Ariana bowed her head and blew gently into her tea.

  “Well, goodnight then.” He stood over her, mesmerized by the radiance of the dark curls tumbling over her shoulders. “I mean, goodbye.”

  “Goodbye then,” she repeated, her voice nearly swallowed by the silence in the room.

  28

  The syrupy smell of smoldering incense crept up through her nostrils before Ariana coughed herself awake. She bolted upright to find the sitting room filled with smoke.

  “Your friend, she could not sleep.”

  Ariana blinked twice at the sight of the huge man resting on his knees in the middle of the room. Beside him, atop a small prayer rug, sat Rachel with her back to Ariana, her head and torso shrouded in a sheer purple shawl embroidered in gold.

  “What time is it? What’s going on? What are you doing?”

  “Shhh. Relax and go back to sleep. It is still night,” Hani’s father answered, his voice smooth and calm. “And no worries. She will be fine.”

  Ariana eyed the long, thin cane resting by his side. “Rachel? Is that really you under there? Are you okay?” She stood and started drowsily toward the covered woman.

  “Please.” Hani’s father stopped her with an outstretched palm.

  “It’s okay, Ariana,” Rachel said without turning around. “I’m hoping Hani’s father might be able to help me figure out what happened tonight.”

  “Oh, no. You really shouldn’t be—”

  “Quiet. No talking.” The man began to rub his hands together, his long fingers glistening with oil.

  “You have got to be kidding me.” Ariana plopped back down on the sofa with a knot in the pit of her stomach, praying that t
his was all just a bad dream.

  “If you would like to wait elsewhere, that can be arranged.”

  Ariana’s eyes followed the chain of tiny stitched flowers climbing the back of the gauzy purple shawl. Then she noticed the charred holes that had erupted between the sequined petals, telling tales of close calls with catastrophe in this very room. “If you think I’m going to leave her here alone, you’re crazy.” She hugged a pillow close and folded herself into a corner of the sofa, wishing for it all to be over.

  “Now close your eyes,” Hani’s father instructed Rachel. “Do not open them. And please, no talking.” Ariana’s heart flew into double time as she watched him slide a smoking brass urn under the purple tent, where it nearly rested against Rachel’s back. As the cloying odor of frankincense continued to fill the room, Hani’s father leaned in close to Rachel’s ear.

  “It’s hot,” Rachel answered to a question Ariana couldn’t hear. And then he began to chant. The Arabic words were spoken softly, in a continuous stream that reminded Ariana of the buzz from a swarm of insects. She wondered how the man could breathe, as he never seemed to pause for air. Finally, after a good ten minutes, the chanting stopped.

  “How are you? How is your head?” He sat back on his heels.

  “Okay. It hurts a little.” Rachel sounded subdued, almost drugged.

  The man began to drone again, his words becoming softer and softer, as if someone were turning down the volume bit by bit. Even Ariana was finding it calming to the point of being nearly hypnotic. Rachel remained quiet, her stillness broken only by an occasional bob of the head, as if she were fighting the urge to nod off.

  “How is your head?” he asked again.

  “Good.” Now Rachel sounded as if she were in a trance.

  “And your chest?”

  “Good.”

  Ariana choked a little at the sight of the smoke thickening under the shawl. But Rachel’s breathing seemed to remain remarkably untroubled.

  Then Hani’s father scooted around behind Rachel, slid the brass burner aside and gently guided her limp body down until she lay prone on the floor, her head resting on a pillow. He rearranged the purple cloth to cover her from head to ankle, leaving her bare feet sticking out like two flags in the wind. Ariana leaned forward to confirm the sight of Rachel’s chest slowly rising and falling as if she were checking on a sleeping infant.