A Sheik's Spell (20 page)

‘ ‘So much praise will make me grow in arrogance. We are all here to do Allah’s will. And my Majidah says it must be the will of Allah for women and children to have homes, and a man, a woman and a family. This should be done without violence, but with compassion and love.”

Najid’s soft, brown eyes sparkled as they always did when he spoke of his wife.

“Ali has gone over to the place where the plane must land. I told him to come and inform us when the plane has arrived. I will go now. Maybe Hassan and his men have already come.”

‘ ‘What does Ali think of this?’ ’

“He is a good son. He is a Mu’adin. He does not question his father,” Najid said, as he left.

Najid returned before Felicia finished changing her clothes. He said Hassan had not arrived. He’d brought back several street snacks, saying Felicia should eat after her long ride. The two of them devoured the food in silence, washing it down with mint tea.

Felicia glanced at her watch and saw it was five forty- five. Najid suggested they go to Afrah El label to wait for Ali and once again look for Hassan. At this time of evening the streets were a sea of people, so their progress across town was slow.

Finally, they approached a large, mud and brick edifice that sat near the end of one of the main roads. Felicia assumed the Arabic writing scrawled across its top was Afrah El Jabel. She could hear the loud wailing music coming through the large, wooden double doors.

Another building sat next to this one, directly on the comer. It was obviously well kept, and had been painted with dusky red paint. Gold letters stood out boldly on it, bearing its name. Beneath the building’s awning sat a massive woman, with eyes painted like an Egyptian idol. Felicia watched as a group of men, who stood between Afrah El Jabel and the red building, tried to make up their minds which building they should enter.

The woman was also looking at the men. Pulling her large frame up from the chair, she began to make her way majestically over to them. Felicia had never seen an Egyptian woman dressed like this one. More than a yard of material trailed from the back of her garment, edged by lots of fringes, leaving a sweeping pattern in the sand.

‘ ‘I haven’t seen anyone else with a dress like that,’ ’ she remarked.

Felicia didn’t catch the subtle change in Najid’s expression as he answered.

‘ ‘The dress is a custom of some of the women who live here in Egypt. It is designed to sweep away their footprints in order to make it difficult for Schaitaan to follow them. I think in your language you call him Satan. But a dress alone will not be able to keep him away from her. She is the mistress of the house of sin, Ya Noor El Ein, ‘Light of My Eyes’.”

Once she reached the men, the woman smiled seduc
tively, running one well-kept hand down the side of a large breast, past her waist, to rest on a heavy hip. In no time at all, the woman had the men following her hulking gyrations inside the building.

So that is where Na’im goes when he wants the ‘ ‘cream of the crop” as he called it, Felicia mused. She smiled to herself as she and Najid turned to enter the dimly lit, noisy tavern. She took pleasure in the thought that the large, painted creature was Na’im’s epitome of womanhood.

Felicia had thought the streets of A1 Kharijah were crowded, but they were nothing compared to this. Sultry music pulsated loudly as she attempted to keep up with Najid.

From the moment she stepped through the door, she could tell the people who frequented this establishment were A1 Karajan’s pleasure seekers. Hordes of men and women stood around, while the luckiest of the group were able to sit at the tables and chairs provided for them. A woman laughed lustily in Felicia’s ears, as the man beside her grabbed one cheek of her hefty bottom through a skintight, floor length dress.

Occasionally Felicia could see Najid’s short head between the people in front of her. Systematically, he would pause, giving her a chance to catch up.

‘ ‘We are almost near the door to the back room now.”

Felicia nodded her head in understanding before he started on his way again.

The sound of chair legs scraping against the wooden floor, followed by a crash and loud voices erupted to the right of her. Despite the lack of space, the crowd began pushing away from the area of the commotion, pinning Felicia’s backside against a short, stocky man with horrible breath and a lascivious smile. Another man was caught between Najid and Felicia. Everyone’s attention was centered on the disturbance now in front of
them.

A very thin man with leathery dark skin seemed to be the focus of the uproar. He was holding onto a wooden

chair that he had obviously snatched from beneath a burly fellow. The big guy was having a difficult time righting his generous body, as he shouted the closest thing to Arabic obscenities Felicia had ever heard.

There was something very cruel about the smaller man’s face, which was shrouded by a white keffiyeh. He had
a wildness about his eyes that Felicia had seen in the lab rats as they scurried around their cages as if running from death itself. A sneer crossed his narrow face at the fallen man’s anger, and as quick as a blink, he’d produced a knife large enough to disembowel a large animal.

Several gasps rose from the women in the crowd as he made his way purposefully toward his prey. A soft-spoken voice stopped the man in mid stride. Then another man, equally as tall, stepped forward. He was impeccably dressed in a white galabia and head wrap. There was a remarkable resemblance between he and the man holding the blade, even though he was much older. There was also an air of submission about him.

The larger man breathed a sigh of relief as he got up on his feet. The elderly gentleman offered what Felicia assumed was an apology.

By this time, Najid had eased his way back through the crowd to her side.

‘ ‘That is Sharif Hassan.’ ’

“My goodness. As violent as he is, I don’t know if we’re doing the right thing by bringing the women here.”

“Hassan is not the angry one. He is the one who stopped his son, Abdul, from attacking the Berber.”

Felicia looked at Hassan again. She had not expected this mild-mannered man to be the leader of a ring of men abducting women from their homes.

“I just can’t picture that man doing anything cruel or aggressive. Even now he shows he is not a violent man.”

“It is Abdul Hassan who is behind the abductions. After the sheik lost Abdul’s mother, he lost his love for life. He no longer cared if he lived or died. He took no interest in what went on around him. Maybe now, with renewed life in his village, he will become himself again.”

Abdul’s eyes gleamed like a madman’s while the sheik offered his apologies to the Berber. At first, it looked as if he was about to put the large knife away, but something changed his mind. He shouted several words at the sheik. His voice held contempt as he spoke to his father and spat at his feet. He began to wave the blade high over his head while pounding on his chest with his free hand. He mirrored a man out of control.

First he struck at the wooden table near him, causing the knife’s shaft to stick in its surface. It took both of Abdul’s hands to extract the weapon from the table’s hold, giving the sheik enough time to draw his weapon, a small revolver.

The sheik’s tone was calm but ominous when he spoke to his son. Felicia could hear that his voice revealed the sound of a warning. Obviously, everyone heard it except Abdul, who swung his blade with the intention of decapitating his father.

Felicia, along with the others, let out a blood-curdling scream. The screams were accompanied by the sound of a shot from the sheik’s gun. The bullet pierced Abdul’s temple, and he dropped to the floor-dead.

A pregnant silence followed. The sheik knelt down beside his son with tears flowing freely. He closed his son’s eyes, looked up at the crowd and began to speak slowly and deliberately. His speech lasted only a few moments, and even though Felicia could not understand every word he said, she felt she understood the message. The sheik was

apologizing
for the grief ills son had caused, and now his son was out of his misery.

Several men helped the sheik remove Abdul’s body from the tavern. Najid followed them outside, pulling Felicia through the crowd, grabbing an abandoned chair as he went

‘ ‘You will be safer sitting near the door. That way you will be near if you are needed, but not in the middle of the transaction. Ali or I will let you know when the women come. Now I will go and talk to Hassan.”

The music commenced again and the people went back to whatever they were doing before the trouble broke out Felicia was shaken by the scene that had occurred only moments before. Somehow she felt responsible for what had happened to Abdul.

A few minutes later Najid emerged from the crowd, followed by Hassan and three other men, one of who was Shabazz. He did not acknowledge Felicia’s presence as they passed by and went into the back room

It was hard for Felicia to see her watch in the faint light provided by what appeared to be oriental lanterns. She thought it read ten after six.

Ali had not returned, or at least she didn’t think he had. She began to wish she knew what was going on inside. Najid had said he’d tell her when the women arrived. It was so hard for Felicia to sit and try to act normal, with all that had happened and what was supposed to take place on her mind. She felt apprehension building inside of her as her mind conjured up all kinds of images. What if the plane had crashed? What if Hassan had changed his mind after experiencing such an awful ordeal? What if the government officials decided to change their minds at the last minute and not let the women come?

Felicia’s thoughts had taken her far away from what was going on inside the tavern. As she became aware of her surroundings again, the man with the lustful smile was standing by her side. She realized that looking up at him was a big mistake, because he construed it as an invitation to make conversation. Felicia met the man’s words and gestures with the only thing she could-silence. He took that for acceptance. Getting down on his haunches, he slid a club-like arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer toward him.

Just at that moment, the door to the back room opened. Felicia slid from beneath the man’s arm, hoping the man emerging from the back room was Ali. It had been such a long time since she’d seen him, and their encounter was so brief, she didn’t quite know if the man was Ali. His face was averted, and she couldn’t see it because of his headpiece. What if it were Shabazz instead of Ali? Her heart beat a fast tempo as she lifted her arm to tap him on the shoulder. Then he turned toward her...it was Ali. He clutched her hands enthusiastically.

“They are all here. Your friend Imam Jabar expected to see you at the airstrip, but I explained to him that we all thought it best that you remain here. I came back with them instead of going ahead so they would feel welcome and comfortable. My father was waiting for us outside the door in the rear of the building.”

Felicia couldn’t contain the excitement in her voice. “So what are they doing now?”

‘ ‘One of the Mauritanian representatives is reading an official paper from his country.”

‘ ‘And the women, do they all look well taken care of? Are any of them sick?”

“Everyone is fine. Some of the children were crying because they were afraid of the airplane. That is all. Once everything is taken care of and Hassan is ready to take the women to Falam, I will come for you so that you can talk with the Imam.”

Ali disappeared back inside the door. Felicia was glad to see the bothersome man had left. She supposed she could thank Ali for that

It wasn’t long before Ali appeared again, beckoning Felicia to step inside. The bright sunlight coming through several windows was a harsh reality after the tavern’s dark hues.

Imam Jabar was the only person remaining in the room. Outside, she could see Ali running to catch up with the group of women and the others.

“Felicia Sanders. It is good to see you again. Egyptian style dress becomes you.”

Imam Jabar’s smile was a flash of white in his ebony face. When Felicia had first met him, she’d thought she’d never seen anyone with skin so dark. It reminded her of an African statue she’d seen at Bayside in Miami, Florida. Smooth, shiny and black. Beautiful in its own right; a product of his Nubian heritage.

Imam Jabar’s English was slurred by his native tongue, the tucolor language
. Felicia remembered him saying once that he preferred speaking English to Arabic. He found it easier to pronounce.

She embraced the
minute man. Funny how men so small in stature like the Imam and Najid could be so large in heart.

“It is so wonderful to see you. I don’t know how to thank you enough for what you’ve done.”

“It is our country and Hassan who should thank you for seeing a need, and taking the initiative to fill it. It is

unfortunate
, Felicia, that you are not claiming credit for this good deed. They think I am the one who is responsible.”

“It doesn’t matter who gets the credit. We’ll always know we did it together.
You, Najid, Fatimah and I. I just hope we did the right thing, with Abdul getting killed and all.”

“Yes, that for sure is to be regretted. But hopefully, with time the pain and sorrow will go away and the sheik, along with the villagers of Falam, will be able to forget. The sheik has given his commitment to protecting the women and children with his life. He said they will have the best life his village can offer,’ ’ the Imam reflected. ‘ ‘It is a shame, Felicia, that our visit must be so brief, but it is already time for me to head back to the plane.”