Authors: Eboni Snoe
No one spoke as smooth hands removed his robe, leaving him feeling exposed and vulnerable, his desire apparent for any with eyes to see. Then he was led forward to the edge of the tub where pressure was placed on his arms, gently forcing him down. A web-like substance brushed his arm as he complied with the silent demand. It felt heavy, but soft, like the hair of a woman when it’s unbound. An involuntary shiver shook him as round soft flesh momentarily brushed against him. Then the web and the scent of citrus were gone.
When Na’im first placed his foot in the steamy water, his automatic reflex was to snatch it back. But as time passed, he was able to place both feet in, his legs and eventually his entire body. The tension in his body drained away as he sat in the water. His physical need seemed to dissipate with the water’s heat, but his mind still sought release. “Your mind shall cry out its pain. Its only consolation, fulfillment of the flesh. This only the one who has drank of Ya Natir understands.”
After his bath, Na’im was taken back to his room by his mysterious hosts, but this time he did not care. His sole focus was to be rid of this torment, to be rid of this pain, for Awya to be over with so that he could find peace. These thoughts filled his head as he drifted into a deep sleep.
Chapter Thirty-Five
The music began as Felicia dried herself off from her bath. Festive music, played by anyone who knew the melody and had an instrument to play.
Several songs could be heard at one time, as the estate grounds overflowed with the villagers of Karib. Conceal
ing herself behind the curtain, Felicia continued to l
Karib was a small village, but from the mixture of its people, the history of Egypt could be told. Skin tones ranged from that of fair-skinned Arabs to the concentrated black of the Nubian culture.
An impromptu group of Nubian musicians played bongos and blew the clarinet. The clear vibrancy of their voices easily reached Felicia, while their heads bobbed and their feet danced a lively step, raising dust all around them. Felicia’s body responded intuitively to the rhythm as she watched the animated bunch.
There was much milling about as families shared their “gift of promise” with others. Fatimah had said each family would prepare a dish, something that could be easily eaten with the fingers, and this they would bring to
the Awya. These dishes symbolized the family’s promise to stand behind any marital arrangements it had already made, or would make in the future. Sharing with everyone made it even more bonding.
Music flowed throughout the crowd and there was much dancing. A few couples performed traditional dances, but most of the dancers were individuals who began to dance in place as the feeling struck them. Some drew a crowd, but many danced for their own pleasure and release.
It was amazing how a festival like Awya brought the ancient roots of the villagers to the fore. For the six weeks that Felicia had lived in Karib, never had she seen anything indicating that the people embraced such colorful traditional roots. Conservatism was in their mannerisms and the way they dressed and spoke. Control of the mind and spirit seemed utmost in their lives. But today, all restraint had been tossed to the wind.
The women were still modestly dressed, but the colors were more vibrant, some more daring than others.
Cyclopean cushions with tassels had been placed around a platform, which resembled a large auditorium stage in size. These were accompanied by oblong tables that could be eaten on with ease while one sat on the huge cushions. A seat in the middle of the cushions rose majestically above the rest. Its base was a cushion similar to the others, but larger. Upon that sat a great, legless chair.
The blinding sunlight reflecting off the chair made it hard for Felicia to distinguish the design that fanned outward like a peacock’s tail. Nor could she tell if the flashing colors of gold and blue were painted onto metal or wood.
She noticed several steps had been built, mounting to the center of the platform. A line of servants with flower
arrangements
and bowls of fresh fruit marched back and forth upon the small stairway, resembling ants carrying food back and forth to their colonies.
Felicia’s bedroom door suddenly flew open with such velocity, she didn’t know what to expect as a high-strung Fatimah whirled her way into the room.
“I thought you were already dressed.” Incredulity marked Fatimah’s normally calm features. “It is less than an hour before the ceremony begins. I will help you.”
Felicia crossed over to the finished costume that lay spread out on the end of the bed. Her hands trembled as she picked up the beaded bustier, causing the iridescent beads to shimmer.
The gold strap that supported it gripped her neck snugly as she put it on, pulling her breasts upward to form a natural cleavage. Trios of strung beads covered the shiny object, quivering with every movement Felicia’s body made. The sunlight made the top flash a myriad of colors, as it played back and forth between the gold background and the glittering baubles.
Timidly, she stepped into the bottom half of the costume. The golden skirt they’d found in the tunnel had been evenly shredded into tiny strips all around, creating the illusion of wholeness. The slightest movement from Felicia’s toned frame caused it to splinter, revealing glimpses of her chocolate brown skin and the gold-beaded bikini underneath.
Beaded bracelets had been made for her wrist and ankles, and very fine ribbons left over from the skirt had been clustered together with beads, creating ornate earrings.
After Felicia finished dressing, Fatimah instructed her to sit in a chair she had pulled into the center of the room. It was time to style her hair.
“I want you to lean forward so you can arrange your braids high on top of your head. I have kept this ornamental cone for many years because it was my mother’s. I have never worn it. She says it was found in the tomb of Ramses n. I know she would be proud to have you wear it this evening.”
When Felicia walked over to the mirror, she could tell Fatimah had polished the nearly six-inch hair ornament to perfection. It was amazing how light it felt upon her head. From the look of it, she had assumed it would be heavier. A profusion of dark curls tumbled out of the cylindrical top, enhancing its scintillating gold tones.
Fatimah watched as Felicia transformed her almond- shaped eyes with black kohl pencils. Imitating to her best ability the makeup of ancient Egypt, she applied a bronze lipstick to her mouth and a raisin brown blush to her high cheekbones.
Looking at Fatimah’s reflection standing behind her in the mirror, Felicia’s body took on a pose of readiness. “Well, girl friend, this is as good as it’s going to get”
“We have done well. You look wonderful,” Fatimah grasped Felicia’s shoulders in a gesture of support. “I believe Na’im had a black cape with a hood made for you along with the other clothes when you first arrived. You will need that to cover yourself until the proper time. Wait here until I return with Aisha. We will use the west wing door to go onto the grounds.’ ’
Chapter Thirty-Six
There was almost complete silence throughout the crowd when the processional music of Awya began. The crowd opened up and made a pathway stretching from the front gate to the platform’s stairway, wide enough for two camels to walk side by side.
Felicia and Aisha had wedged their way forward so they could see better. It had not been easy, for everyone pushed and shoved to be on the front line. Little attention was given to the two women. All eyes were centered outside of the front gate in the direction of the masjid.
Sheik Rahman, Yasmin, as well as Waheedah’s par
ents had taken their places on the platform. A special cushion had also been provided for Hambir, who would conduct the ceremony. A group of selected musicians settled behind them far to the right.
Standing behind the massive chair in the center of the cushions was Waheedah. Felicia had never seen her look more beautiful. Luxuriant blue and white veils cascaded from the back of her head, framing her slender face and neck. Sapphire and diamond earrings hung from her ears. Her well-made up face was expressionless as she stared
outward. She would be the first to see the procession as it advanced onto the grounds. Felicia could not see what Waheedah was wearing; the back of the cushioned chair blocked her body from view.
Now that she was close enough, Felicia could see the flamboyant design on the chair’s back was a painting of the face of Isis, the Egyptian goddess of female fertility and love. Her striped headpiece edged the
chair’s back in black and blue, with thin gold lines between them. Her face, solid gold in color, was dominated by penetrating black eyes, an unimposing nose and bountiful lips. It seemed to intensify Waheedah’s cause, and visibly announce the importance of female energy.
Cushions had also been made available for the remain
der of the relatives and their attendants, directly in front of the steps. None of them were being used though, for they, like the crowd, were on their feet looking in the direction of the town. Fatimah stood among them. Kareem was not far behind.
A rapid succession of drumbeats broke through the air. An oboe followed, which seemed to answer its demanding beat. Repetitiously, the drum and the oboe spoke as if calling forth the processional.
The blending of hushed whispers slowly made its way forward along with the shining bodies of eight men wearing golden bands around their throats, wrists and ankles. White balloon pantaloons, resembling wraps, rode high above their ankle bands. All were bent forward at the waist, swaying in unison with their arms outstretched slightly behind them.
Next strode Hambir, in a white, gold trimmed galabia, carrying the golden chalice upon a small ceremonial cushion.
The whispers rose in pitch to soft rumblings as Na’im brought up the rear.
Felicia’s heart beat uncontrollably as Hambir passed by, for she knew the rousing sounds from the villagers of Karib announced Na’im’s appearance.
His broad shoulders seemed to rebel against the golden material of the galabia he wore for the Awya, as his bare feet marched to the rhythm of the processional music. There was no way to tell what feelings moved inside him as he walked, for his face was covered with a golden mask, giving him a perpetual expression of distress. His reddish- brown hair, that touched just below his shoulders, hung vibrantly about him.
“This is going to be wild, ” Felicia could hear Phillip’s voice no more than a few feet behind her. ‘ ‘Check out the outfits these guys have on.”
‘ ‘Yes, it’s impressive,’ ’ William responded, always the intellectual.
“I wish I could see Felicia’s face when she gets a load of this. Where is she, anyway?” Phillip asked, irritated. “We didn’t see her at all today or yesterday.”
‘ ‘Maybe she had something to do,” George remarked. “We’ve all been pretty busy trying to wrap things up around here. The project’s just about completed. We have the formula written down. We just need to make some samples, and that should be pretty easy to do.”
Felicia was glad the hooded cape concealed her face. There was absolutely no other way to hide the alarm that deluged her as she watched Na’im walk by. His back was so straight and stiff. He walked like a man in a trance.
“What is wrong with him, Aisha?” she asked, fear encasing her every word.
‘ ‘It is the ‘drink of the one who waits’ that has drained him. His mind is like a dry sponge needing water. Peace
evades him now. The ‘drink of the one who waits’ makes a man know how human he is; how needy he is of a companion. Awya makes a man know how empty he is without a mate. And sometimes he makes his decision out of that emptiness. That is why it is good you have decided to challenge. Without it, I believe he would definitely choose the woman from Cairo.”
“It sounds like he’s been drugged!”
‘ ‘The ancients did not think of it as a drug; only as a way of making a man know his need, and reckoning with it according to their customs.”
Staccato flute notes chirped loudly as Na’im climbed the stairs, while the heads of the men who accompanied him circled as if in madness.
Without hesitation, Na’im crossed the platform, taking the seat that awaited him. Waheedah remained behind the massive chair. Na’im gave no indication that he was aware of anything until she removed his mask.
A remote look filled the golden eyes that Felicia knew so well, and a strong urge to protect him grew inside of her. Yes, she would challenge this woman for Na’im. She would challenge anyone for this man who had taught her the true meaning of love.
Hambir, who stood before them all, sang out one phrase before the challenge dance music began. Aisha automatically began to interpret for Felicia.
“Open your minds and hearts to the spirit of Isis,” she spoke, as if to herself.
No sooner had Hambir finished, did the music begin again, and Waheedah’s arms were raised arch-like above her head. Tiny rings were attached to her thumbs, encircling her in a Nile blue cloud that formed from the veils attached to her waist Repetitiously, she brought her