Read Online Henna House by Nomi Eve - Free Book Online Page A

space around us, I saw him smile.
    â€œYes, this will do, it’s very nice.”
    â€œDo for what?”
    â€œFor our first home.”
    â€œWhat are you talking about?”
    â€œYou are my wife.”
    â€œNot yet,” I said through gritted teeth.
    He shrugged. “In some places in Africa, the children marry at birth. In parts of Morocco, they marry when they lose their first teeth. I see no reason why we should wait any longer.” He came toward me. Quickly, I bent down and lifted one of the little pots that I used to heat water on a tiny wicking stove I had stolen from Auntie Aminah’s storeroom. Before he could get any closer, I clonked him on the head.
    I called him a brute and threatened to tell my mother that he had tried to violate me. He smiled, scratching his head. “Then I will tell her about this.”
    â€œAnd I will tell your father about Jamiya.”
    He pointed at my altar, my idols.
    â€œAnd I will tell your mother about your little pagan gods.”
    â€œGoddesses.”
    â€œForgive me, but I don’t think she will care about the sex of your idols. Only that you have them. A Jewish girl like you—”
    I put my hands on my hips and taunted Asaf back, “A Jewish boy like you, out here in the dunes, riding a horse?”
    â€œA Jewish girl with her own cave? What will people say about you? That you meet goat boys here. That you tempt them with your wiles.” He rubbed his head where I had hit him.
    â€œMy wiles? You have been spending too much time with the animalsthat are my brothers. Are you an animal too? Or are you a boy who mounts horses like women? That is a mare you are riding, after all?”
    I don’t know exactly how, but in the thicket of these crude threats, we suddenly came to a truce. And not just any truce, but a happy one. We both started laughing. We were saying things we didn’t mean and didn’t even understand. Our predicament suddenly seemed very funny, but funny in a way that mattered and felt safe. After all, our connection was based on protection; we needed each other to avoid confiscation. So that was the nature of our laughter. It was a balm and a joke and a trick perpetrated against the demons that overreached when they came for us. Asaf and I laughed and looked deep into each other’s eyes. Did he think my eyes too big? No, I could tell that he thought they were just right. We were perfect for each other. We were each other’s armor. And in that moment, we each became the other’s lance, sword, and shield. We couldn’t say all of this, because we were just children, so we laughed, because life was hard, and laughing was easy.
    *  *  *
    Two days later my family shared the Passover seder with Asaf and his father. At the seder, we pretended not to know each other at all. Asaf and the sons of our neighbors, who also joined us for the holiday, put on a little skit, reenacting the Exodus. Asaf played the part of Moses, defying Pharaoh, leading his people out of Egypt, raising his staff to part the Sea of Reeds.
    â€œOh, what a great Moses you are,” my father said, complimenting him on his acting.
    I thought of Moses’s staff. How God had turned it into a snake, which writhed at Pharaoh’s feet. This made me think of the Confiscator’s jambia, and soon the fire of fear was igniting behind my eyes. The faces around the table blurred, and suddenly I was back in the market, sprawled on the ground at the feet of the Confiscator and his wife.
    â€œAdela, what is it? Are you not well?” My sister-in-law Masudah came behind me.
    â€œI am fine, just fine,” I reassured her, forcing a big smile that soused the flames in my head. No, I was at home, all was well. I was safe. He wouldn’t take me away. He couldn’t, could he? When I came of age I would marry. If I did my duty and married Asaf, I would have nothing to fear, now would I?
    I took the plate from my