The Frumpy Widow

The Frumpy Widow

Allow me to take a minute and elaborate on King Shahryar's character. I am in a good position to do so because I am Karma Al Satryr, the King's scribe. When I fell into dishonor the King pitied me and took me into his court and assigned me this low position. From it I am often summoned when the King wishes to make record of matters that he feels are worthy of note.

So it was on the 21st day of the 11th month of the 8th Century that he called me to his side and said, "I have had a dream. No, change that, it was more of a vision. I find it most troubling. Now write this down before I forget."

I dreamed that I was walking in the forest where I often go to hunt, when there came a fog upon me. It was dense and suddenly I lost my way and became frightened. In dismay I tried to run but my feet moved slowly and despair entered my heart. Then when I was completely lost, I saw a light and going towards it,beheld a beautiful wood and a waterfall that cascaded into a stream. By the stream was a rock outcropping and into this had been cut an arch and beneath the arch was door. By the door stood a keeper and he was an old man.

Walking up I inquired about the door's nature and to where it went. The gatekeeper replied, It leads to the workshop of creation." I then asked about the immediate surroundings and he replied,

"The Garden of Eden."

"May I enter?" I asked politely, and he opened the door and with a bow ushered me inside.

Within was a dark corridor and down the center ran a channel of purest alabaster with a walkway on either side. The walls were lit by torches that glowed like fireflies behind orbs of glass. As I walked along, resting my hand upon the smooth channel, I saw crawling towards me a child. The child was newborn and his eyes were still shut and his face wrinkled. It passed me without taking note. As I continued on there came another and then another in slow and endless procession. At length I came to a room and I heard groans, and there on a stone pedestal lay the mother of creation. Her stomach was distended and from inside her I saw the head of a child being birthed. About her were midwives dressed in fine linens and they sponged her face and spoke soothing words. As the infant came into the world they bathed it and placed it into the channel whereupon it began crawling away. Standing over them was the Archangel of creation, supervising all that was taking place. She had a smile of serene happiness and every now and again sighed. As she stood thus the ground began shaking and from the top of the grotto came a blinding light through a portal. The angel gathered herself and went quickly and prostrated herself, covering her face with an apron and putting her hands over her ears.

And a voice spoke to her, "Bring me Suleiman."

The angel looked up startled, and the apron fell from her face and she became distraught wringing her hands and rising to her knees. She began rocking back and forth, with much agitation. Yahweh, she lamented... must all we have accomplished be set back upon itself? In so doing we must break six of your commandments. Next, the covenant of marriage must be cruelly abused and finally the tenants of basic human decency, those that bind men together, in their love and trust for one another, must be disregarded.

From above the voice answered, "Bring me Suleiman."

Looking up with arms extended, the Angel pleaded, it will tear asunder the veil, and the beams of your house will groan, the earth will rise up, a fissure will rend the walls, and darkness will enter therein

The voice answered, "I will repeat myself one last time, bring me Suleiman."

And the angel stood and began shaking uncontrollably as she tore at her garments and threw ashes in her hair; and gathering her skirt, fled from the place. When she was far away and could run no further, she fell to the ground and wept.

When the King finished relating the vision, he asked me, "Have you written it all as I told you?" And I replied, "I swear by Allah's mercy that it is written just as you have said."

The king stood up to leave and asked, "What do you suppose it means?"

My heart trembled and I replied, "Ask me not great king. I am only a soldier, brought low by disgrace, performing this low duty. I am neither a mullah or a philosopher. It is better that you take counsel with them."

"No," replied the King, "I will not! Go, take the scroll to the Keep and place it in a jar."

Now this was one aspect of the King's character. He had visions like the one described, however, he had others of great importance that were easier to understand. For example he once had a dream that he was about to be assassinated and waking with a start, fled the palace, avoiding by the narrowest of margins, soldiers sent to kill him.

But there was also an aspect of his nature that had a softness that he went to great lengths to keep hidden. For throughout his lifetime he was a strong man and delighted in manly exercise, such as the practice of arms, hunting and horsemanship. He had a vigorous health and it continued well past his sixtieth year. Yet for all his manliness there was a compassion and kindness that ran counter to his bluster and bravado.

Now let me put to rest, once and for all, the notion that there was something effete about him or that he practiced abominations upon young boys or that he had an appetite for other men. To be sure, there have been monarchs throughout history, of such persuasion. In Persia, of all places, it would come as no surprise, were he found to be so inclined. But be disabused, if you think thus, for he was never perverse in this sort of way. No! What he had was a kind heart that he kept hidden to where it was almost impossible to detect. However, being daily in his presence and often at his side recording this thing or that, I came to know him. While he could give vent to the most terrible of wrath and at times acted in the heat of passion, in ways he came later to regret, his true self was nothing like the reputation that others attributed to him. Let me give an example that shows this better.

One day, while the king was walking past the nursery, he sighed wistfully at the children playing beneath the palm trees. He often went there to see the infants and young boys and girls playing together. There was a sadness to this habit because while he had laid with many women, with a frequency staggering to imagine, none of his wives or concubines ever conceived. At first he blamed the women but as the years passed he accepted, more and more, the possibility that he might be at fault. One day, as he walked by a field where the older boys were playing, he noticed that his second cousin was being teased.

Long experience had taught him not to interfere in these matters and he considered such goings on to be lessons in growing up that toughened young men for the ordeals that lay ahead. This taunting and torment, however, struck him as unfair, because the boy being abused was not altogether right in the head. His cousin was a big and clumsy youth and as the taunting became particularly cruel the king grew angry and was tempted to summon Omar to give those responsible a hard thrashing. Still, the king remembered how it had been with him growing up and the many bad experiences he had suffered that caused him endless sorrow. At length Basim began to weep and the King could bear it no longer.

Pretending not to see his cousin's weakness, he inquired of the boys, "I am looking for Calib El Basim, for I have a need of his services. Does anyone know his whereabouts?"

The boys stepped back in awe, for the Sultan had an intimidating presence. Two of them pulled Basim off the ground and put dirt on his face to hide his tears. Then they whispered, "The King is looking for you, pull yourself together!"

One of the older lads answered, "He is here my lord," and they pushed Basim forward into their Monarch's presence.

The king cleared his throat and spoke in a deep voice as he often did in the practice of authority.

"Calib El Basim, I have come to offer you a most important duty. Once more my food taster has been poisoned and died a most horrible death. Since the court is large, there is much food to be tasted and no one wants to eat at my table for fear of being poisoned. I am in desperate straits and need at once, a suitable replacement. I am told that you are the right man for the job because you eat well and will not shirk the duty by complaining that your stomach is too full. Since the position is dangerous, I will not order you to accept it, since you are the second son of my first cousin. If you do, be prepared to die, for it is an undertaking, fraught with danger. I have come to you hoping you will step up; I have been told of your courage and Allah blesses the strong of heart.

Calib's mouth fell open and the boys stepped back in amazement.

"Your wish is my command," he replied with an unexpected flair.

"Excellent, said the king, report at once to the kitchen and begin the exercise of your duties."

Now while it was known that the food taster had died, it was not believed a homicide. Instead the physicians attributed the death to natural causes. Still, Allah, rewards those who show compassion, and the king was soon to have his kindness reciprociated.

It happened that two months later, as the Sultan was about to have breakfast, that an attempt was made on his life. Now the King often said that he had no fear of the threats he anticipated, but that he feared only the unexpected. He had made a study of assassinations, particularly those that succeeded, and in every case they were executed in a most unexpected way. So it was to be on this morning. Unknown to anyone, an assassin, under the cover of darkness, had crept up to the palace, scaled the wall and entered the compound undetected. He had concealed himself in a stand of bamboo that overlooked the dining area. There he awaited his opportunity.

Now Calib had overslept and arrived at the same instant as the King entered. Knowing the monarch habitually took grapes from the fruit stand as he walked up to the table, Calib hurried over to perform his duty. In doing so he passed between the King and the assassin just as the arrow let fly. Instead of striking the King it lodged in Caleb's backside. As the intruder was taken away, Calib hopped about, his mouth full of grapes and an arrow in his buttocks. Under other conditions this might have been humorous, in a gallows sort of way, however a poisoned arrow was a serious matter and usually a fatal one. The surgeons removed the tip and performed a "chicken test" which confirmed the presence of asp venom. This was a toxic and particularly deadly poison. Calib was taken to the clinic where the doctors made him comfortable to await his anticipated passing. To their amazement however, he survived and after a restless night with a slight fever, awakened with a ravenous appetite, and resumed his duties in the kitchen.

Now Scheherazad was determined to amend the behavior of her husband and stop the slaying of his wives. She was completely unaware, as everyone else was, as to the real nature of what was going on. Often in the morning, after she had related to me her most recent tale, Dunazad would enter and they would go to a secluded place and begin talking quietly together. It was the same old thing, another scheme to fulfill her oath to Allah. In one such discussion Dunazad said,

"You know? We are making a big assumption in all this."

It was a bolt of revelation, delivered to a mind, that nobody took seriously.

"What do you mean by that?" asked her sister.

"What I mean is, has anyone actually witnessed the executions?

Now Scheherazad took note. The thread of her sister's question opened a vista of unexplored possibilities. Further she had heard and read many times about the danger of assumptions.

"Let me make sure I understand you correctly", she answered, "Since this is not a matter involving "futurity" but rather one that has a long and sordid history, that we would be advised to convert this possibility into a fact instead of assuming something we are not sure of?

"Huh?" her sister replied.

"Yes, I see your point, and it's a good one. It should be easy enough to verify. Next time I will go to the dungeon and witness first hand the truth, for if we are being deceived in this, the problem takes on a whole different light."

So Scheherazad arose early the following morning in time to see the King's latest wife being led off to the dungeon. On one side was her father, the Vizier, and on the other was Omar the executioner. She followed the trio across the corridor into the dungeon and caught up as they arrived at the cell door. Her father seeing her was taken by surprised. She gave him a defiant look. As Omar took the maid into the oblique corridor, she attempted to follow. The Vizier, however, restrained her as the guard closed and locked the door.

"Why are you here?" her father demanded in exasperation.

"To see for myself what is going on."

At that instant there came a blood curling scream and the sound of the headsman's axe thunking into the block.

Scheherazad slumped, and her father steadied her with his arm

"Does the King know you are here?" He inquired.

Scheherazad shook her head.

"Come this is no place for you," he said and taking her by the arm led her back to the compound.

When Scheherazad returned, her sister asked what had happened.

"It was horrible!" she replied, "her screaming was horrible!"

Dunazad inquired boldly, "What was it like to see her neck severed and head drop to the floor?"

"I wasn't allowed into enter the death chamber, but I heard."

"That puts us back where we started."

"Yes I suppose it does."

Scheherazad looked pale and felt sick.

"Are you alright?"

"It was a bad experience, I'll be fine in a minute."

Soon the color returned to her face and Dunazad spoke, "Well you know Scher," for this was the nickname Dunazad had for her sister, "What goes in must come out."

"I see what you're thinking," Scheherazad answered.

That night the king entered the chamber and climbing into bed, beckoned Dunazad up under his arm. Scheherazad came up with her stool and seated herself before them.

"Before starting, tell me what you were doing in the dungeon this morning?"

Scheherazad answered him serenely, "I had heard that you will be going to the summer palace for some type of ceremony. When I saw my father I wished to inquire more about it and caught up with him at the dungeon."

She delivered this lie with such a look of innocence that the king appeared duped. Still he scratched his head and stared long at her as if trying to look for some hidden truth. At length he said,

"Get on with your story, for tomorrow is a full day."

She took a deep breath and began.

There once was a rich and frumpy widow. When her husband died he left her a fabric shop of fine silks, linens, and other lines of exotically woven cloth. Since she had been his assistant she knew all aspects of the business and continued to manage the store and make it prosper. The widow had a lovely daughter who assisted her in the business and many who came there noted her beauty. Now the widow often flirted with the male customers hoping to find a new husband. One of these men was smitten with the daughter and saw the mother's interest in him as a chance to make suit for her daughter's hand. The mother, misinterpreting the man's interest, invited him to dinner. After eating he asked for the daughter's hand. Thereupon the widow began berating him and her daughter joined in with disdain, calling him a "lecherous old man." The man then became incensed, bound the mother and had his way with her daughter. When he finished the wicked deed he fled the city.

Now the widow had a kind heart and felt herself responsible for what had happened. Her daughter was likewise distraught, thinking that no man would now want her, and despite her role in aggravating the situation, blamed her mother's weakness for all that had happened. She fled to her room and settled into a gloom of melancholy and would speak to no one but her maid. Her mother was filled with feelings of guilt and reproached herself for being a fool. She tried everything to make amends but nothing seemed to work and her daughters behavior continued thus for three years. Finally she heard about a young physician who was wise in afflictions of the spirit as well as the body and summoned him to treat her daughter. The physician was a handsome and personable man and his work slowly began to cure her illness. After some months she was able to return to the shop and despite a sad, 'woe is me" disposition, was able to once again assist her mother. Now in the course of his ministering the physician discovered that he had fallen in love with the widow's daughter, and asked her mother's permission to marry. The widow was overjoyed because it was a good match and knew that her daughter held the physician in warm regard. So she gave her blessing but told him she would like to surprise her daughter by making the announcement a very special occasion. That he was to return in one week and at a dinner with the family, she would make the announcement to everyone. After the physician left she began thinking that the shock at dinner might be too much for her daughter, and unable to contain the good news any longer, went to her daughter's room. When the widow told her of the proposal, the young girl was overjoyed and after many expressions of happiness gave thanks to Allah. Then she told her mother that she wished for a fine dress to wear to the dinner. Her mother told her not to worry, that she would have the most stunning and fashionable gown money could buy.

The next morning she summoned her daughter's maid and gave her several bolts of the finest brocade silk and told her to take it to the shop of her favorite dressmaker. Now it happened that a carousing youth with dishonorable intentions had taken an interest in the maid and often spied upon her from a tree in a grove along the road between her home and the widow's shop. As fate would have it, the maid in her eagerness to get to the dressmaker, took a short cut under the very tree in which the scoundrel was hiding. As she passed beneath he fell upon her throwing her into a ditch filled with muddy water. There he had his way with her and when he finished fled from the retribution he knew must follow. When her assailant was gone the maid despaired because the expensive fabrics were soaked and covered with filth. Gathering them up she continued on to the dressmaker who confirmed her suspicion that they were hopelessly ruined.

He berated her saying, "If you had kept your wits you might have thrown the bolts first into a clean and dry place." The maid wept, picked up the ruined fabrics and ran to her home wailing. When her mother heard the lamentations, she inquired into the cause. Her daughter explained all that had happened, about the shortcut, her being assaulted and the ruined fabrics. Her mother was horrified. Theirs was a family of little means and could in no way afford to replace the expensive bolts of silk. Her mother berated her, "How could you have been so foolish as to stray from the safety of the road and take a shortcut through the grove? Your mistress will be furious and expect us to make restitution. Go now, and take the ruined silk back to her and beg her to forgive your stupidity." The young maid wept even louder and berated herself all the way back to the shop. When she arrived she explained all that had happened and petitioned the widow for forgiveness.

The widow bid her rise, embraced her and gave thanks to Allah that her daughter's maid had not been killed. Embracing her she said "Since you were wronged in my service I will see that you and your family are fully compensated and provide a dowry that will make you a prize for any suitor in the city. Her maid rejoiced, and gave thanks to Allah for the great blessings the day had bestowed. Within a month she was wed to a handsome young man and their life together became a blessing of happy nights and many children.

When Scheherazad finished she asked the King, "what do you make of this tale?"

The King answered, "What befell those girls is something that should never be allowed to happen. In this kingdom justice is swift for those who commit such atrocities."

Scheherazad replied, "Certainly is a bad thing for a woman to be so treated but did you note how one was more affected than the other?"

"When I was a young boy I was sent to the court of my uncle in order to further my education and expand my understanding of the world. Shortly after I arrived I was assaulted by a relative who had an affinity for young boys. It was a sobering experience but the worst of it was the repetition. It was a time of fear and dread for me. After a year passed, I returned home and in my shame told no one."

"Forgive me," said scheherazad, "I had no idea my tale would evoke such a sad reminder."

"Do not apologize," said the King, "It's a terrible thing to be so abused and let there be no doubt that both girls suffered, in ways much deeper than you can imagine."

"Did it not appear that one suffered more than the other?"

"In a poor house, the jackal is always barking at the door. It is a cruel world filled with misery and sorrow. At an early age children learn of violence and debauchery and the strong live and bear their scars while the weak pass away. Under such conditions living from one day to the next is an accomplishment. To the poor girl, her experience was a consequence of the life she was forced to live, and while not pleasant, the press of other needs gave her little time to reflect on her misfortune. The rich girl, however, was given more time to ponder and as a consequence, her wounds took longer to heal."

At that moment the cock crowed and the King said to Scheherazad,

"Now look at me and pay attention. Do not leave the grounds of the palace again without my permission. Is that clear?"

"Yes master," she replied.