Read Online Henna House by Nomi Eve - Free Book Online

launched into a crude joke about a farmer who violated his goat, a baker who violated his fresh loaves, and a fisherman who sank his hook into the mermaid bounty of the deep blue sea.
    My cheeks grew red. I was used to my brothers’ boorish behavior, but it seemed to me as if they were telling these stories for my benefit, that is, to embarrass me in front of my groom. As I passed by Asaf he turned his head and caught my eye for the smallest little pebble of a second. In that second I thought his expression said, “Don’t listen to them.” And, “If I were older, and already married to you, I would protect you from your miserable brothers.” Did Asaf’s little glance really say all of these things? I don’t know, but it was enough that I believed it so.
    *  *  *
    The next time Asaf met me on the escarpment he wasn’t on Jamiya, but had come by foot. We stood without speaking for what seemed like avery long time. Asaf looked up at the sky. I followed his gaze and spied a pair of sooty falcons circling over the ruins of Yehezkiel the Goat’s forge.
    â€œWell . . .” Asaf kicked a stone, bit his bottom lip, and then ran his fingers through his right forelock, twisting it into a tighter curl.
    â€œWell what?”
    â€œHmmm.”
    I looked back up into the sky. The falcons were flying away. Asaf shifted back and forth on his feet and narrowed his eyes, turning them into tiny slits of blue that swept over the landscape behind me and then settled on what seemed to be my chin. He began to curl the second forelock and then let it spring back up in a corkscrew. Finally he whispered, “Can you take me there?”
    â€œWhere?”
    â€œTo your . . .”
    â€œMy what?”
    â€œTo your cave. I know where you go. I followed you, so I know that you have a cave. I would very much like to see it. Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone else.”
    I weighed my options. I could refuse, but if he already knew I had a cave, he could go there whether I took him or not. Really, he was just asking permission. And if I didn’t take him, perhaps he would get angry. And if he got angry, would he give away my secret? Tell his father? Tell my father about it? Binyamin was the only other person who knew about my cave, and so far he had kept my secret.
    â€œCome.” I turned on my heels.
    â€œI’ll follow.”
    I snorted, “Of course you will. It’s what you want, isn’t it?”
    â€œDon’t be mad, Adela. I promise I won’t tell anyone else. It will still be your secret.”
    I didn’t answer. I took him the other way around the culvert. The long way, past an old camel cart half-buried in the sand. Before entering, I hesitated. Asaf stood not a hand’s breath from me. Together, we looked out at the landscape. Down below my cave, to the southwest, was the Jewish cemetery, where Grandfather Yoosef was buried, and past that was the wealthy village of Bir Zeit, where I never went, but where I heard that the imported fruit trees grew heavy with Indian mangoes and perfumed gardens sported yellow melons as big as the heads of giants. All around us the mountains rose up the color of wet wheat and oldcanvas sacking. To the north was the walled city of Sana’a. We could see a camel caravan coming from Amran laden with grain and khat leaves and cotton entering Bir Zeit. And there in the middle distance we espied the gravekeeper stooped over stones, while a solitary horseman rode a stallion over distant dunes, where the mauve and golden mountaintops faded into each other, like feathers on a reclining bird.
    The moment for stillness passed. A breeze rustled the henna bushes. I turned to the cave, ducked, and entered. Asaf followed me in. I lit one of my little contraband lamps, along with a stub of a candle that I kept in one of the indentations in the cave walls. He looked around. As the light illuminated the