Gold Dust

11

The harm you’ve caused us was enough,” Ukhayyad said when he and the camel were off by themselves again in the pasture. “Women cause nothing but headaches, don’t they?” By now, the camel’s new skin had toughened, and his wounds had mended. The ghastly redness had disappeared. But the camel’s coat had yet to grow back. When the Mahri did not comment on his proposition, the young men continued: “Sheikh Musa says the root cause must be removed. Splendor is no easy thing to attain, everything demands its own sacrifice. You won’t be in pain for long. We will do it during the summer. Summer is the best season for it.”

Agitated, the piebald reared his head. Was this his way of showing that he rejected the idea? “No, no — wait,” Ukhayyad blurted out. “Don’t rush into decisions that you’ll later regret. What happened to you should never have happened. Warriors have no business contracting contagious skin diseases. Purebreds should not allow themselves to get mange. Have you seen any other piebald with mange? You’re a splendid creature, you’re beautiful. But beauty can’t be bought with mere money. For your looks, I am ready to pay with my life. To be the most beautiful thoroughbred in the Sahara — you have no idea what that would be like. Do you think I would ever do something that would cause you harm? Do you have so little trust in me?”

The piebald opened his jaws as wide as they would go. The outlines of a wicked laugh twinkled in his keen eyes. “I get it,” Ukhayyad also laughed. “You mean to say that females are more beautiful still! No — don’t lie, by God! Women are beautiful, yes. Even lovely. But so are snakes. And like snakes, they bite. You’ve been bitten by one, and look what her venom did to you the last time. Wasn’t that enough? Have some shame — turn your back on the ways of the Devil!”

He stroked the Mahri’s neck and inspected his hide, whispering, “When we get through this ordeal, we’ll begin something new. We’ll learn how to dance. Purebred camels must know how to dance, and you have never tried. It’ll make you forget all about love. Trust me. You’ll soar through the air, and sail through the heavens. It’s more dignified to see God in heaven, isn’t it, than to chase after silly she-camels on earth?”

He sat in front of the camel in the open desert, his hands wrapped around his knees. “There’s no way around it,” he said. “Without purification, you will never attain beauty and never meet God. Without purity, nothing. I admit it is a nasty business, but we have no other choice.”

Then summer arrived and with it came time to perform all manner of work. Ukhayyad disappeared, using the pretext of traveling to the oasis of Gariyat to retrieve camels that had strayed there. He left the piebald in the hands of executioners. Only Sheikh Musa was aware that Ukhayyad had left, not to chase after camels, but to flee from the appointed day.

The day after he departed, the men gathered around the poor camel. They spent the morning struggling to remove the scourge from his body. They spent the afternoon, in accordance with custom, making the camel swallow his own testicles.

When Ukhayyad returned from his journey, he found the Mahri anxious. He stroked the animal’s body and massaged the mended skin. The piebald’s eyes were swollen with sadness. He led the camel into the southern pastures where they could be alone. Ukhayyad took some barley out of his sack and held the grain in his hands. The camel turned away. Ukhayyad followed after him with the food, but the animal stubbornly refused his advances. “I know why you’re so rough with me,” Ukhayyad said, returning the grain to his knapsack. “You’re angry because I left you and went off. I did not abandon you. We had agreed to it together. We’ve guaranteed the return of your color. Now, you’ll return to being a piebald like before. Aren’t you looking forward to seeing yourself dappled, beautiful, and rare?”

The piebald’s eyes welled up with tears and Ukhayyad hugged him. They stood a while embracing in the infinite expanse just as the night began to thicken.