Rafik Schami - Damascus Nights

"In any case, the years passed, and Leila became the best-known storyteller far and wide. On those evenings when she told stories, not only did she charm her listeners, she herself was charmed by what she told. She could speak with stars, animals, and plants as if she were the magic fairy of her own stories. People said that her words had so much power that one day she talked to a rotten tree trunk about spring for such a long time that it sent forth new shoots of green. But Leila didn't just tell her stories to people, animals, and plants, she also confided them to the wind and the clouds. One time there was a drought — and believe me, it was merciless. The farmers prayed and prayed, but not Leila. She climbed the highest mountain and waited there until she saw a little cloud moving quickly across the sky. Leila began to tell the cloud a story, and it stopped to listen. Other clouds joined it, and soon the whole sky was overcast. As the story grew more exciting, the clouds grew darker, and when the story reached its most suspenseful moment, Leila broke off, turned to the clouds, and called up: 'If you want to hear the rest, you'll have to come down here!' The clouds flashed their lightning and rushed down as a sudden shower, just to be closer to Leila."

Fatma paused and finished her cigarette. "Well, there was one summer when it was raining so hard that the people were scared. The earth became sodden, and the swallows hid in their nests on the high cliffs. Late in the afternoon the dogs started howling strangely. When the sun went down, the villagers heard cries for help and shouts of pain coming from a deep grotto not far off. A few of the bravest men and women approached the cave, but they trembled with fear at every cry.

" 'It must be a monster,' said the village elder.

" 'A monster? Then why is it crying for help?' an old farmer wondered.

" 'Maybe those are the cries of the people it's eating!' presumed a midwife.

" 'Or else the monster is trying to lure us in. My father told me that the crocodiles along the Nile hide in the high cattails and cry aloud like a small child until some mother, washing at the river, hears the cries and runs to the place where she thinks a child has fallen into the water. But that's just what the crocodile is waiting for. .'

" 'My grandfather told me hyenas sometimes sneeze—' a shoemaker wanted to confirm.

" 'Crocodiles this and hyenas that,' a knight interrupted, 'a true Yemenite must always be prepared to sacrifice himself to answer a cry of distress.' He took his lance and hurried inside the rocky cave, but the only thing to come back out were more cries for help.

"During the day the cave was quiet, but night after night the villagers heard the anguished cries begging for mercy. Grown-ups didn't dare go near the hole, but curiosity drove the children there.

"Two children disappeared in the first week, a girl and a boy. The farmers were convinced that the monster had drawn them into his lair and devoured them. More and more children followed. Although none of the farmers had laid eyes on the creature, whenever they talked about the monster they would describe every tooth in its mouth and every spike on its tail. After a month no one dared mention the word monster; they just referred to 'the thing in the hole.' "

Fatma paused, took out her tin of tobacco, and carefully rolled another very thin cigarette.

"That's just like it is today," said Isam, who could no longer bear the silence. "When someone's been arrested we say that he's been 'taken to his aunt's.' And of course we call the prime minister Abdul the Chicken-Eater."

"I thought he was Abdul the Money-Slurper," said Ali.

"No, that's passé," Faris interjected and laughed. "Today my son called him Monsieur Abdul Goose-liver, since he enjoys having that famous pate flown in from Paris."

"I like that," Isam again spoke up, "and the minister of the interior's called 'The Drum' since he's just as loud and empty."

"In any case," Fatma began again and took a drag on her cigarette, "whenever anyone mentioned 'the thing in the hole,' the farmers would call out: 'Auzu billah min al-Shaitan al-Rajim,' to protect themselves from the devil.

"One day Leila awoke from a strange dream, put on her clothes, and parted from her grandparents with the words: 'I'm going where my dream has called me. In my dream I saw the thirty children who have disappeared. They were laughing at the entrance to the cave. It's time their laughter returned to the village. Please, don't cry, my dreams will never lead me to my ruin.'

" 'Auzu billah min al-Shaitan al-Rajim!' the grandparents called out in unison.

" 'Please,' Leila said, 'I want to go. Don't worry, my thousands and thousands of stories will protect me.' She hurried out, and a flock of children followed her to the entrance of the cave. Leila gave them one last look, waved to them, and walked inside.

" 'Leila's gone inside the cave! Leila's gone inside the cave!'—the children's cries echoed through the streets. The sad news spread from house to house, and before the sun had set it had reached the farthest corner of the village. When darkness fell, the villagers heard the cries for help, and a few claimed to recognize Leila's voice. Neighbors visited her grandparents and sadly expressed their sympathy, and one or two people whispered furtively that their long-held suspicions had been confirmed, namely that the poor girl had been crazy since birth.

"Leila meanwhile saw a small light flickering in the depth of the cave. She walked toward it slowly and wondered at the stone figures crowded around the entrance. No human hand, not even the chisel of time could have sculpted people more true to life than those statues frozen in flight. Not a single buttonhole, not a single hair, not even a single bead of sweat was missing from the stone figures struggling to reach the opening of the cave.

"Inside the cave it was so still that Leila could hear her heart beating. After a while she came to a large hall. Here, too, there were stone figures standing all around, facing the hall, frozen in fear. Large beeswax candles were burning everywhere, and in one corner there were more than ten beehives. Across from that was a spring; the water flowed out of one crevice and into another. The bees were buzzing and flying through a hole in the rock out into the open air. Leila saw no trace of a monster. She began to search the cavern for secret entryways — when all of a sudden she stumbled across the horrible creature. May God protect us all from its sight! There it was, lying in a stone trough.

"Leila quickly hid herself behind a rock pile. She didn't have to wait long; an hour after sunset the monster awoke. It looked so frightful I'd better not describe it to you; otherwise I would spoil your evening. The monster licked some honey and bewailed its horrible fate.

"Leila felt her legs begin to buckle with fear, so she closed her eyes for a minute and borrowed the courage of a wounded mother lion from a story she had kept well preserved inside her memory. This mother-courage could make even the strongest warriors tremble.

"Slowly she opened her eyes, and although the walls of the cave shook frightfully with every cry the monster made, Leila's legs were no longer weak. She stood up and with sure steps approached the monster, which looked at her in astonishment, then buried its face in its hands and said, 'Go away, or else I will devour you, go!'

" 'Salaam aleikum! I will gladly listen to your story, but I will not follow your command. I didn't come here to run away!' Leila said and took another step in the direction of the monster.

" 'Leave, for I am cursed and damned, and whoever touches me will turn into a beast!' the monster begged Leila.

" 'That's not true, or else I would know a story about it,' answered Leila, and she touched the monster's slimy paw that was covered with green scales. 'Tell me your story,' she pleaded.