Nightmare in Morocco (8 page)

"I want to go in one," said Cathy.

"I'm afraid we can't do that
.
Women, even Moslems, are never allowed to enter the mosques."

"What's fair about that?"
Cathy demanded loudly
.
"I don't like this place already!"
She turned to address the seven girls
.
"We should just demand to go in!"

"Change takes place very slowly," Taber said, giving Cathy an amused glance,
"And we are guests
.
We must be good guests."

As they proceeded, more and more often Cathy and Belda Ward began dropping far behind, Belda, to admire the rugs, Cathy, to attract the attention of the rows of
salesmen
.

"You'd better keep up with the group," Marie Landos joined Noa in advising.

Cathy gave her the same cold look she usually reserved for Noa.

Marie commented, her voice brittle, "At St.
Theresa’s
we teach our girls courtesy."

"I'm not studying to be a nun."

"Neither are we," ventured one of the quiet girls Marie called Orva.

"You might as well be," Cathy shot back.

"I see you intend to make this trip very unpleasant," Marie bristled.

"I wish you wouldn't..."

"And I wish
you wouldn't," Cathy interrupted Noa's rebuke, then added under her breath, "old fogies."

"At least don't be rude."

"You're the one that wanted me along."

The walkway twisted, grew so narrow the group walked for a while in single file
.
Noa, way in the back, kept her eyes far ahead, on Taber's broad
shouldered
back.

Here she was
.
She never thought she would be able to do it!
More freely now, she began to gaze around at the hanging brass, the woven blankets and rugs
.
Ahead of her an
emancipated
old man was seated on the ground, crude jewelry and trinkets spread around him
.
She met his dark eyes and felt a rush of pity
.

He selected a silver "Hand of Fatimah" from the necklaces with their chunky, yellowish stones and held it up to her
.
Noa smiled, took some coins from her purse and gave them to him
.
She judged from the light that came into his eyes that he was being well paid
.
She held the charm for a moment, then stuffed it in her pocket and rushed to catch up with the others.

"Isn't this pattern just perfect?"
Belda said to her
.
"Feel how thick this rug is!"

Compliantly Noa fingered the plush weave of the green rug.

"We'd better keep up with the others
.
We don't want to get lost."

Belda looked longingly back as she followed Noa
.
"That's the prettiest rug I've seen yet!
Most of the Moroccan rugs are red or blue
.
It's so hard to find a green one
.
Noa, do you think I should buy it?"

"There will be others along the way."

"But that one is almost perfect."

"Hurry."
Noa urged the old lady forward.
“They’re
about out of sight."

When they turned the sharp corner which led to a wide opening, Noa was relieved to see Taber there talking with their group
.
"Some of you have indicated that you would like to browse
.
This store is the largest in the medina, one wi
th reputable
dealers
.
After I tell you a little about the crafts, I'll let you spend twenty minutes on your own."

They entered the store through a long passageway hung with fashionable kaftans,
djellab
as
, and other local clothing
.
Sunlight steamed through open sections of a make shift bamboo roof
.
Surprisingly the entranceway opened into a huge modern room crammed with displays and noisy with working craftsmen.

Taber stopped beside a bearded man whose quick fingers incised and
gilded
decorations on leather.

Noa stood in the doorway listening to Taber's talk
.
Every once in a while, his smile, gleaming white against his dark skin, would be directed very personally to her.

Taber moved on, this time pausing beside an elderly man working with pottery
.
Noa glanced from him, back to Taber. The robe made his shoulders broader, lengthened and slenderized his body. The hood folded back, a perfect frame for the crisp, black hair, the strong features, now damp from the heat.

She looked away again, scanning the room
.
Greg was inspecting some of the wallets, Milton Ward giving him advi
c
e
.
Moulay was listening with fascination to Taber's words; Marie and her girls with studious quietness
.
But where was Belda Ward?

Noa searched the entire store for her, then with growing anxiety, headed to the entrance and looked up and down the paths of the medina
.
The crowd had thickened
hooded figures, men in turbans carrying silver pots and goods, women in kaftans, many wearing veils
.
Where could she have gone?

Noa thought about the green rug that had so attracted her
.
Could she have gone back for it?
Noa hesitated a moment, then decided she would have no trouble locating that store and finding her way back again
.
She walked quickly, ignoring the calls of peddlers
.
Noises and smells she had not noticed earlier now enclosed her.

At the store, she sought in vain for the lively, white haired woman
.
She approached and inquired of a turbaned
salesman
, who spoke no English
.
A younger salesman joined him
.
"Yes
.
Yes, she was here."
He pointed to the green rug
.
"She was looking at this rug
.
I turn around once, and she's gone
.
It was only a short time ago."

For the next ten minutes Noa wandered up and down looking into stores and into the hollows of isolated passages
.
As time passed, her mouth grew dry, her legs stiff
.
She felt a return of the panic she had felt long ago when she had ran through
similar
passageways searching for her father.

The best thing to do would be to return to the group and get Taber or Greg to help her
.
She hurried back to the sharp turn she was using to orient herself, but before turning the corner, paused to look back
.

To the right, a path opened to another row of stores
.
Surprised, she recognized Belda Ward strolling slowly along, absorbed in her shopping
.
Before Belda reached the intersection, a hooded figure pounced from out of a secluded doorway and struck her from behind.

The old lady crumpled to the ground
.
Noa raced toward her
.
The hooded form was bending over her.

"Stop!
Stop, at once!"
Noa called, increasing her speed.

The figure, his face obscured by the hood, lifted his head at her shout, jumped to his feet, and fled before she could reach him.

Noa knelt over Belda
.
She half lifted her, noticing the trickle of blood that gleamed evilly in the harsh sunlight
.

Chapter Four

Belda's hazel eyes blinked, looked dazed for an instant, then focused calmly on Noa
.
"I'm all right," she said firmly.

Breathing hard, she allowed herself to be assisted
.
Once standing, she swayed a little, rubbing her forehead and testing the sore spot on the side of her head.

"Did you see who hit you?"

"All I saw was a hood and a face wrapped in a dark scarf."
Belda dabbed at the cut on her head with the Kleenex Noa had supplied for her
.
"It's my fault
.
I should have stayed with the tour."

"We must get you to a doctor."

"I'm OK
.
See for yourself."

The cut was deep, as if she had been hit by something with a jagged edge
.
Swelling and discoloration had started, but Noa believed she suffered no severe damage
.
Still Noa felt a helpless rage
.
How could anyone do this to her!
"We'll go back to the group
.
Taber will want to contact the police."

"I just won't hear of that!"
Belda's hand tightened on Noa's arm
.
"It won't do a lick of good
.
It will only worry Milton and ruin my whole trip!"
She drew herself up determinedly
.
"I'm just going to tell everyone I fell."

"That's not a very good idea."

"You'd think so if you had to live with Milton
.
He's a worrier!
Besides, whoever attacked me..."
Belda's emerald ring glistened as she waved it toward the endlessly winding walkways, "is long gone now
.
No one's going to find him here."

When Noa said nothing, Belda added, "It was probably just some mugger after my purse."
"He might have been after your ring."

Belda stared at the emerald
.
"Do you really think so?"

"It might be a good idea to put it in a safety deposit box
.
We'll return to Tangier at the end of our tour
.
You can pick it up then, and not have to worry about it." "But it's never been off my finger," Belda protested
.
"If I have to hide it from the world, then what's the use of owning it?"
The stubborn resistance, despite the age difference, made Noa think of Cathy
.
"Please reconsider."

"No, I won't give up my ring!"
Belda began to walk briskly away, saying over her shoulder, "I just want to forget the whole thing!"

"You're going the wrong way," Noa called to her.

Belda turned back with an impish smile,
"I'm going back for my rug!"

Noa didn't catch up with Belda until she stopped at the corner booth, the one where Belda had spotted the rug
.
Belda gazed at the design of a thick, green weave for a moment, then announced, "I'll take it!"

The
turbaned
salesman grinned widely
.
Noa
waited impatiently
as money was exchanged and plans were made for the rug to be delivered to the hotel
.
Belda turned to Noa with a wink
.
"At least this knot on my head wasn't all for nothing!"

"You shouldn't have accepted his first price," Noa said
.
"They always start about fifty percent higher than what they expect to get."

Belda laughed
.
"My dear, when you're as wealthy as I, it's getting what you want that's important, not what you pay for it."

They walked quickly and in silence back toward the store where the group waited
.
Taber, his dark eyes worried, left Milton's side and strode forward to meet them
.
"Everyone's been looking for you
.
I just hope no one gets lost!"

"What did you mean,"
Milton chimed in, "running off like that!"
He did not appear to notice Belda's wound, which she had made an attempt to conceal by gray curls.

"Shopping
.
What else?"
Belda replied.

"You were supposed to stay right here in this gift shop."

"Oh, this junk's just for the tourists
.
I wanted something authentic."
Belda stepped forward, shaking a warning finger at Milton
.
"And I don't want to hear a word out of you
.
Not one, single word!"