Chapter 3
Carpets for Sale

“Get out of the way? What’s the matter with you? You’re blocking the road!”

Scarlett and Sam, huddled together, opened their eyes. They were still in the middle of the road, but it was like no road they had ever seen before. It wasn’t paved, just covered with dust and dirt. And while there was plenty of traffic, there wasn’t a motor vehicle in sight. There were plenty of mules, donkeys, and people walking around without paying too much attention to traffic lights and stop signs—mostly because there weren’t any.

“Are you going to get out of the way, or are we going to stand here all day, staring at each other?” There went that angry voice again. Sam looked up and found himself staring into the broad face of an ox.

“I didn’t know an ox could talk!” said Sam.

“They don’t. It’s that guy.” Scarlett pointed to the man standing beside a cart that an ox was pulling. He had a long, black beard and an odd-looking felt cap on his head. He wore something that looked like a long T-shirt that came down to his knees, belted in the middle. On his feet were rough-looking sandals laced up with string.

“Well?” the man demanded.

“We’re moving. We’re moving,” said Scarlett, pulling a still-bewildered Sam out of the way.

The ox let out a snort. The cart moved on with the man grumbling all the while, “. . . just stand in the middle of the street . . . block traffic . . . you think everybody has all day . . . nobody’s in a hurry . . .”.

Scarlett and Sam found a quiet corner under an awning next to a man selling dates.

“Want to buy some dates?” he asked them.

“No, thanks,” Scarlett said.

“I’ll make you a good deal. Two minas for twenty shekels.”

“No, thanks,” said Sam.

“A camel load came in yesterday from Palmyra. They’re really good. You won’t find sweeter dates in all of Jaffa.”

“Jaffa? Is that where we are?” Scarlett asked. She and Sam knew enough about Israel to recognize the name of the main seaport.

“Where else? If we were in Tyre or Zidon, we’d be speaking Phoenician. Not that it’s much different from Hebrew. The Phoenicians have been good friends and allies for many, many years, since the days of King Solomon.”

Scarlett and Sam looked at each other. From the way the date seller spoke, King Solomon must have lived a long time ago.

“Solomon was a great and wise king,” said Sam. “He made Israel a great nation.”

“We could sure use him now.” A woman selling pita bread out of a basket joined the conversation.

“Israel isn’t doing well?” Scarlett asked. The date seller and the pita seller both laughed.

“Not doing well? It doesn’t even exist. There is no Israel.”

“What do you mean?” Sam asked.

“Where are you two from? Don’t you know any history?” the pita seller asked. “The people in the north couldn’t get along with the people in the south. So they set up their own country: Israel. It didn’t do them any good. They still fought and quarreled with each other and all of their neighbors. Finally, the Assyrians came along. They flattened the land and took everyone as slaves. There is no more Israel. The rest of us are barely holding on.”

“Who are the Assyrians?” Sam asked.

“Imagine all the plagues of Egypt rolled together,” the pita seller told him. “There was still an Egypt, even after the plagues passed through the land. But the Assyrians leave nothing behind. Israel was once a prosperous country. Now it’s a wasteland. And they’ll be back.”

Scarlett felt her stomach begin to hurt. “If Israel is gone, this is . . .”

“Judea. That’s what we call ourselves now,” said the date seller.

“And your king is . . . ?” Sam asked.

“Ahaz,” the pita seller told him. “You don’t want to tangle with him. He may be Solomon’s descendant, but he sure isn’t wise.”

“Or good,” the date seller added.

***

Scarlett and Sam spent the next few hours walking aimlessly around the winding streets and alleys of Jaffa, trying to absorb what they had just learned. They both came to the same conclusion.

“This isn’t a pleasant place or time. We need to get out of here,” said Sam.

“How?” Scarlett asked. “We’ve lost Grandma Mina’s carpet. And Grandma Mina says it’s magic. It could help us get back home. How are we going to get it back? We may not even be in the same century. What if we’re stuck in ancient Jaffa and the carpet is driving around town in the back of a red car?”

“Maybe we can find another carpet,” Sam suggested.

“And pay for it with what? And how will we get it back home?”

Sam shrugged. “Got a better idea?”

“No.”

“Then let’s start looking. Who knows? We might get lucky.”

***

They hadn’t gone far when they ran into a man carrying a pile of ratty-looking blankets over his shoulder.

“Where did you get those?” Scarlett asked him.

“At the shuk.” The man pointed down the street.

“What’s a shuk?” Sam asked.

“Market. Big market,” the man exclaimed as he scurried down an alley.

He wasn’t exaggerating. The shuk was easily the biggest building in Jaffa. The main shuk was a two-story mud brick building that went on for blocks. Around it was a cluster of awnings, tents, and open-air booths selling anything that could be sold.

Shopkeepers’ eager hands clutched at Scarlett and Sam as they pushed their way through the crowds of shoppers.

“Goat cheese! The best!”

“Hummus! Buy my hummus!”

“Singing birds from Lebanon!”

“Rare wine from Greece. Care for a sip, young sir or madam?”

“No, thanks,” Scarlett and Sam said over and over again. They finally reached the entrance to the main building. A sleepy old man with a long beard looked them over.

“We’re looking to buy a carpet. Where can we find one?” Sam asked the man.

The man yawned. “Street of the Carpet Sellers. Many carpets. Many sellers.”

Sam didn’t understand what the man was talking about until he saw how the shuk was laid out. The market was divided into different sections like a department store. Unlike the chaos and confusion in the booth section outside, the merchants in here had their own spaces based on what they were selling. If you wanted pots and pans, you went to one area. If you wanted hats, you went to another. If you wanted carpets . . .

“Sort of like a department store at the mall. Only without an elevator,” said Scarlett.

“Or a movie theater,” Sam added. “Or a parking lot.”

“I see the carpet sellers,” said Scarlett, counting off the aisles. “We’re almost there.”

The aisle of the carpet sellers was impossible to miss. Heaps of carpets bursting with bright colors and intricate designs filled the stalls. Suddenly Scarlett grasped Sam’s shoulder.

“Hey! Do you see what I see? Isn’t that Grandma Mina’s carpet?”

“It sure looks like it,” said Sam. “How did it get here?”

“How did we get here?” said Scarlett. “Who knows? But if we can get the carpet back and if we can get it to work its magic, maybe we won’t have to be here much longer.”

One of the carpet sellers smoothed out Grandma Mina’s carpet as he added it to the pile in front of his booth. Sam ran to grab it.

“Hey! Hands off!” The carpet seller yanked Sam by the shoulders and shoved him away. “These are valuable items. Genuine handwoven rugs from Medea and Persia. They need to be handled with care. Don’t touch the carpet unless you mean to buy it.”

“We don’t have to buy it. It’s not your carpet. It’s ours!” Scarlett said.

“Nonsense,” the carpet seller told her. “I just bought it from a man an hour ago. He said he needed to sell it to pay for passage on a ship leaving Jaffa today.”

“Where was he going?” Sam asked.

The carpet seller shrugged. “How should I know? I buy carpets. I don’t ask questions.”

“That man had no right to sell it. That carpet’s ours,” Sam insisted.

“But we’re not going to argue with you,” said Scarlett. “We need that carpet, and we need it bad. How much do you want for it?”

The carpet seller rubbed his beard. “People will say I’m crazy, but I’ll let you have this beautiful rug for . . . what do you say . . . 20,000 shekels?”

“How much is that in our money?” Scarlett whispered to Sam.

“I don’t know,” Sam said. “It may not matter. How much have you got?”

Scarlett dug in her pockets. “$5.50.”

“I have $10 and a little change,” Sam said.

“Something tells me that 20,000 shekels is more than that.” Scarlett turned to the carpet seller. “Will you take $15.85?”

“15,850 shekels? Make it an even 16,000 and we have a deal.”

“Um . . . not exactly,” said Scarlett.

“Then you’ll get nothing.” Sam grabbed for the carpet, but not fast enough. The carpet seller jerked it out of his hands. “Thieves! Help! Call the Shomrim!”

Shuk Security—otherwise known as the Shomrim—came storming down the aisles from all directions. One look told Scarlett and Sam that these guys were not friendly mall cops who would tell you to behave and give you a warning. These Shomrim looked pretty fierce.

“Forget the carpet. We need to leave. NOW!” said Scarlett.

***

Leave they did. As fast as they could. Right through the middle of the shuk, knocking over trays, carts, food, displays, and anything or anyone in their way. That slowed down the Shomrim, who had to shove their way through screaming shoppers, enraged merchants, and heaps of spilled merchandise.

“Which way?” Sam shouted to Scarlett as they scurried past the bearded man at the entrance.

“Whichever way looks good,” she shouted back. They ducked into a narrow alley, following its twists and turns to an open plaza where the tall masts of ships pierced the cloudless sky. They smelled the ocean. They heard gulls crying overhead and waves lapping against the shore.

“We’re at the sea!” Scarlett shouted. She glanced over her shoulder to see if the Shomrim were still following them.

“Better run! They’re after you!” several sailors called to them from a ship that was pulling away from the dock. The Shomrim came running across the plaza. “There they are!” they yelled, dashing after Scarlett and Sam.

“Jump!” the sailors cried. Scarlett and Sam ran to the edge of the pier and leapt aboard. The Shomrim stood at the edge of the dock, shaking their fists at the sailors and shouting, “Those two are shoplifters! Bring them back, or we’ll report you to King Ahaz!”

The captain stood at the rudder with his hand cupped to his ear. “Sorry, guys! Can’t hear you!” he called to the Shomrim onshore. The wind filled the sails as the ship sailed out of the harbor and onto the open sea.