Rafik Schami - Damascus Nights

" 'Yes, yes,' my mother laughed, 'and I've seen his toes, too. They're webbed just like a duck's.'

"My aunt became annoyed, and I became really afraid of Shafak.

"One summer day he was sitting on his small chair as usual, watching the heavens. I went over to him and asked him what he was looking for.

" 'Two stars who love each other. One of them sparkles like a diamond and the other is fire-red. They're chasing each other. Sometimes the diamond is in the lead, sometimes the other one. If they ever come together, then a thousand and one pearls will drop from the sky. And all the oysters in the seas will open their mouths to receive their pearls. And if a human being witnesses this moment and holds out his palm, then he'll receive a pearl as well. But he's not allowed to keep it, he has to dance in a circle three times, with his hand held open, and fling the pearl into the sky — and then he'll be happy for the rest of his life.'

" 'But why are the stars chasing each other in the first place?' I asked.

" That's a long story,' replied the carpenter's helper. 'But how can I tell it to you? I'll miss the moment when it happens! Still, if you promise to watch the sky while I tell you about this amazing love, and promise to yell as soon as you see the two stars come together, so that I can hold out my palm, then I will tell you the story of the stars.'

"I promised Shafak I would watch the stars, and this is the story he told me:

"It all happened in days that have long since disappeared. There was a farmer who had a magical voice. Whenever he sang, people would cry and laugh, and whenever he told stories, people would listen intently and forget all their worries and cares. But not only was he famous for his voice; his hands, too, could paint winds, caravans, and roses so clearly that people could see, smell, and taste his words.

"The farmer was as poor as a beggar; nevertheless, with his voice he succeeded in charming the most beautiful woman in the village. Sahar, as she was called, fell in love with him at first sight and cast to the wind all the entreaties of the rich farmers who were courting her. One wealthy but aged merchant offered her parents their daughters weight in gold, but she refused him, too. 'I'd rather eat dry bread and olives and listen to my poor farmer's voice than stuff myself full of the merchant's roasted gazelle and have him ruin my day with his roaring and my night with his snoring.' Her kind parents gave Sahar their blessing and soon celebrated the wedding of their daughter with her beloved. Not every daughter is granted such good fortune.

"The farmer took tremendous pains to improve his poor state, but he was born jinxed. Whatever he undertook failed. If his fingers touched gold, the noble metal turned to hay. May God protect you from such bad fortune! But people still envied him his voice.

" 'For your voice,' the village elder once told him, 'I would gladly trade you all my fields.'

"Another farmer exclaimed, 'If God would give me just one tiny bit of your magical windpipe instead of my rasping voice, I swear, I would give you my whole flock.'

"All right, so the years passed, and every year this farmer became poorer and poorer, until one summer, when his wheat fell victim to a blight, he cursed heaven. Poverty had eaten him out of house and home. His debts were so great that he had to sell off his wardrobe and his bed. The wardrobe was always empty anyway he consoled his wife, 'and we can sleep on the floor just as well!'

"But he couldn't live two weeks off the money brought by the sale. The entire district spoke of his bad luck, and even though he could sing and tell stories so beautifully, no one wanted to invite him to weddings, as they had in the past. They were afraid that with his wretched luck he might bring the newlyweds misfortune.

"His wife, Sahar, was teased whenever she went to the village well to fetch water. 'Does his voice keep you warm in winter? When you get hungry, do you boil his voice or do you roast it?' the women called after her. Sahar wept bitterly, but once home she would laugh and try to cheer her husband. Nonetheless he sensed her sadness, and it cut deeply into his heart.

"One day, although it was icy-cold outside, the farmer tried to sell his old jacket, in order to purchase some millet for himself and his wife. But no one wanted to buy it. The farmer was ashamed to return home empty-handed. He ran into the nearby forest and from the depths of his soul screamed out his pain. 'I've been as patient as a camel!' he cried. 'I've prayed to all the good angels for help, but their hearts have been cold and all they've done is stop their ears. Tell me, you demons of evil, what else do you desire of me?'

" 'Your voice!' The words echoed in the woods. An icy chill ran through his body and the farmer shivered and shook. He turned around and saw a man in a glistening dark mantle who said, 'I will pay you an inexhaustible supply of money to buy your voice!'

"'I'll give it to you if you'll just keep my wife and me fed for a week. My voice, my voice, no one has wanted to listen to me for over a year, anyway,' the farmer moaned.

" 'You misunderstand me. I want to buy all your speech, not just your beautiful voice. Neither your hands nor your eyes will be able to speak. But in return you will receive this gold lira, which you will never be able to use up. Whenever it leaves your hand, it will give birth to another. As long as you live, you will never be able to spend it,' said the man, and his eyes burned like two glowing stones.

" 'That sounds fair enough!' the farmer cried out. The man walked toward him, and in a flash he threw his cape around the poor farmer, and swept him away into a whirlpool of darkness. The cape weighed on the farmer's shoulders more and more heavily, until his knees buckled under its weight. He groped about, searching for something to cling to, but his hands slid off the wizard — for that's what he was — as if he were a cold column of marble. There was a great stench of decay. The farmer had to cough, his throat hurt as if he had swallowed a knife. Then he fell to the ground, unconscious.

"When he came to he was lying on the cold forest ground. A gold lira was glimmering in his hand. He hurried home. His wife was filled with worry when she saw his pale face. 'What's wrong, my love?'

"Exhausted, the farmer sat down on the mattress and held out his hand to give her the gold lira. Beaming with joy, his wife took the coin and hurried away. But before she had left the room, the farmer again felt the coldness of metal in his clenched fist. He opened it, and there he saw a second gold lira.

"Meanwhile, his elated wife hurried to the butcher, the vegetable peddler, and the baker, yet the prices for all the things she bought amounted to only a few pieces of silver. Holding her head high, she placed an order with the carpenter for his most expensive bed — made of prized oak. She also purchased a new, warm jacket for her husband and a colorful dress she had long desired. The village boys carried her full baskets home, and they were grateful to her for the few piasters she gave them. The farmer's wife bought all of that for just one gold lira. At that time you could buy a house for five gold liras.

"News of the gold lira spread through the village like wildfire. Some people figured the farmer had used his voice to charm a fairy, who had presented him with a hidden treasure. Others guessed he had robbed a traveler. But no one had any idea, not even the farmer himself, how dearly he had paid for his treasure.

"All right, so when Sahar came back, she noticed that her husband was not only unable to speak, he was also incapable of making the slightest gesture. He couldn't even express a tiny bit of joy at all the delicacies she had brought home. He chewed his food in silence and stared off into space with dead eyes.