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Pemba towed Amber through the tight market, glancing back occasionally and flashing her bright, big toothed smile. This was worse than the biggest sale at the mall, even Black Friday. People jostled against each other as they crowded the stalls to haggle for whatever they needed, but it was a friendly chaos with jovial banter and playful insults filling the stifling air.
“Here! This is the Mama Alla’s stall!” Pemba announced. “She has the best dresses in Timbuktu!”
Amber forced a grin as she and Pemba arrived at Mama Alla’s stall. Two brown mannequins posed on opposite sides of the stall, draped in the colorful dresses that most Timbuktu women wore. More dresses were stacked on the counter before them, some contemporary but most local. Behind it all was Mama Alla. She sat tall on a small stool, her aged face regal in appearance. Her yellow eyes focused on the fabrics in her hands, a new dress under construction. The dress she wore was a simple wrap of white, tainted by the constant dust of Timbuktu. She reminded Amber of Grandma.
“Hello Mama Alla!” Pemba shouted.
Mama Alla grinned but did not look their way. “Pemba, you’re late.”
Pemba looked back at Amber. “I come here every day. Her dresses are so beautiful!”
“She wastes my time,” Mama Alla added. “Pemba never buys
anything. Who are you talking to?”
“My new friend, Amber. She’s needs a dress.”
Mama Alla placed her latest creation on her lap and looked fully upon Amber. A slight smile came to her face.
“You’re American,” she commented. “But I see Soninke in you. You are a daughter come home.”
Mama Alla’s words warmed her heart. Amber did feel a certain comfort in Timbuktu despite the heat and dust. At first, she attributed it to her ability to adapt to different situations like Paris and Dakar, but it was different in Timbuktu. Very different.
“Which dress do you like, Amber?” Pemba asked.
“No,” Mama Alla said. “Not these dresses. I have a special dress for your friend.”
Pemba’s hands flew to her mouth to cover her squeal.
“What?” Amber asked.
Pemba didn’t reply. Before Amber could ask again Mama Alla rose from her seat then ambled to the back of her stall, waving the girls to her. They followed her behind the stall.
“I sense you are a special woman, Amber,” Mama Alla commented. “And a special woman needs a special dress.”
Mama Alla went to a colorful pile of fabric, digging to the bottom. She extracted an old suitcase held together by a pair of stretch cables.
“Did you know that amber used to be considered a precious jewel in Timbuktu?
“No, I didn’t,” Amber replied.
“Not only is it a jewel, it contains medicinal powers as well.”
Amber touched her necklace. If Mama Alla only knew, she thought. When she looked into the woman’s eyes, her expression hinted she probably did.
“This is your dress, Amber,” she said.
Amber was not impressed. Whatever was in the old luggage couldn’t possibly be worth much.
“I need to see it,” Amber asked.
“No, no,” Mama Alla replied as she shook her finger. “You will see it when you wear it.”
Amber folded her arms. “I’m not buying anything I haven’t seen. There could be a brick or something in that suitcase.”
“Amber, don’t question Mama Alla’s judgment!” Pemba scolded. “Her opinion on such things is well respected.”
“It’s okay, Pemba,” Mama Alla said. “She’s American.”
Amber didn’t know how to react to that statement, but she wasn’t going to pay for a dress she’d never seen. It was then she realized she wouldn’t buy anything. She didn’t have any money.
Mama Alla extended the suitcase to Amber. “Take it home and try it on. If you don’t like it bring it back. If you do we’ll negotiate a price.”
“Go ahead, take it,” Pemba urged.
Amber took the suitcase. “Thank you, Mama Alla. I hope I’ll like it.”
Mama Alla returned to her seat and continued sewing her dress.
“I know you will daughter. I know.”
Pemba grabbed her arm then dragged her through the crowd. They stopped abruptly when they ran headlong into the back of a man dressed in western clothes like Amber. Amber tumbled over Pemba as they crashed into the dust. The girls scrambled to their feet, more embarrassed than hurt.
Amber dusted her clothes.
“I’m so sorry,” she said. “We...”
“Amber. It’s me.”
She looked up at the man. Bissau stood before her, a wide grin on his face.
“Bissau!”
Amber leaped at Bissau, throwing her arms about his neck. She felt his hands gingerly touch her waist and she smiled.
“I’m so glad you’re alive!”
Bissau held her a moment longer then pushed her away at arm’s length.
“I’m glad I’m alive, too.”
“How did you find us?”
“Nana Josephine’s house is full of surprises,” he answered. “Where is nana Alake?”
Amber’s mood turned somber. “She is resting. She was injured when we arrived. Bissau, Grandma says we are close to Marai.”
“We are,” Bissau replied. “I will take us there soon.”
Amber felt a warm sensation in her belly. She smiled at Bissau then grabbed his arm.
“Come on. I’ll take you to Grandma.”
Bissau stopped her. “Who is this?”
His eyes were suspiciously studying Pemba.
“She’s Pemba. She was helping my find a dress.”
Pemba nodded to him shyly. “Hello, Bissau.”
Bissau nodded back, his look still guarded.
Amber took his arm again and they hurried back to the doctor’s home.
“Amber, you must be careful,” Bissau warned. “Everyone who is friendly to you does not always have good intentions.”
“You forget my gift,” Amber replied. “I’d know long before you.”
Bissau nodded, a thoughtful look on his face. “That is true. I will trust who you trust.”
“Where is that woman trying to stop us?” Amber asked.
“I have lost her for now, but I’m sure she’s still looking for us.”
“How is it that she can change shapes?” Amber asked.
“It is her gift,” Bissau replied.
Amber ceased walking. “That’s all? It’s her gift?”
Bissau looked puzzled. “Yes, that is it. There is nothing else to tell. It is her gift as it is yours to see into one’s heart.”
“There has to be more to it,” Amber said.
Bissau touched her shoulder. “Some things have no explanation. They just are.”
Amber was about to continue the argument but thought better of it. She was not at school in some debate class; she was in Timbuktu trying to save her Grandma.
When they arrived at the doctor’s house Grandma stood at the door. A wide smile came to her as Amber and Bissau approached.
“You found us!”
Bissau knelt before Grandma and took her hand.
“Yes, Nana. Miss Josephine has a master mirror in her possession. I used it to find you.”
“A master mirror?” Grandma’s face went from joy to concern. “Baba must know of this. That mirror can be a blessing or a curse.”
Bissau nodded in agreement. “We are not far from Marai. With camels we can make the journey in two weeks.”
Amber’s chest tensed. “Camels?”
Bissau nodded. Grandma gave her a reassuring smile.
“It is the best way to travel in the desert.”
Amber’s chest grew tighter. “Desert?”
Grandma patted her shoulder. “Yes. Marai is hidden in the desert.”
Amber found a chair and sat hard. Images of the desert popped in her head; scorching sand, a brutal relentless heat, dry cracked lips, and buzzards circling, waiting for the last person to die.
Grandma looked into her worried face and chuckled.
“Traveling in the desert can be dangerous if you’re not prepared and you don’t know where you’re going.”
“I will arrange everything,” Bissau said.
“And I will help!” Pemba volunteered. She looked at Bissau with a gleam in her eyes. Bissau smiled back politely.
His words didn’t make her feel any better. Bissau was a boy, period. Grandma explained to her the rite of passage and how a boy became a man in Marai society much sooner than in America but she still couldn’t fathom Bissau being responsible enough to take them across the desert. Even when she recounted everything he’d done to this point it was hard to imagine. But then she decided to let her new-found skills decide for her. She looked at Bissau, the lean, handsome boy standing confidently before her and let go all of her thoughts as she focused on his heart. She went deep inside him, seeking what her mind wouldn’t let her accept. What she found startled her. The surprised apparently registered on her face.
“What is the matter?” Bissau asked.
“Nothing! I just remembered I haven’t contacted my parents in a while. They must be worried sick.”
“My goodness, we haven’t!” Grandma said. “Where’s the phone?”
“In my bag.” Amber hurried into the doctor’s office in search of her bag, thankful for a reason to distance herself from everyone. When she reached the bedroom she sat hard, dropping her head into her hands. She let the realization of her new revelation sink in.
Bissau was in love with her.
She didn’t see that one coming. She raised her head and sighed.
“Wow. Oh wow.”
With everything else to deal with now there was this. She stood and slowly searched the room for her bag. So, Bissau loved her. So what? He hadn’t said anything about it. As far as she knew he never would. But why wouldn’t he? She’d never been in love, but she suspected if she was she would find a way to let the object of her feelings know. She laughed aloud; she would probably walk up to the lucky boy and tell him outright. That was her way. But Bissau didn’t reveal a thing. His smile was pleasant but not joyful and his words to her were always respectful. He never complimented her looks nor did he try to touch her in any way. He didn’t even hold her when she hugged him, at least not like he meant it.
She shook her head. She was thinking about it all wrong. Bissau wasn’t a boy from Buckhead or Cascade Heights. He was a man from Marai raised with different rules and standards. She thought back to Grandma’s stories, the tales she thought were made up but she now realized were very real. There were all types of things to consider before a man could approach a woman for her hand. She shook her head.
“Find you bag, Amber,” she whispered. “First things first.”
She found the bag a couple of minutes later beside her bed. She opened it then sighed. Her phone was not inside. She walked back into the main room.
“My phone is gone. “
Pemba grabbed her arm. “It must be somewhere inside. I’ll help you find it.”
Pemba dragged her into the doctor’s office. She was chattering as soon as they were away from the others.
“Bissau is so handsome!”
Amber felt an unexpected flash of anger.
“I...guess...so,” she stammered.
“I’ve never seen him in Timbuktu.”
Amber’s hands tightened into fists.
“He’s not from here.”
Pemba’s eyes widened. “Where is he from?”
Amber spun on Pemba.
“Hey, I’m not interested in talking about Bissau right now, okay? I just want to find my phone and get out of here!”
Pemba shrank back, pain evident in her expressive eyes.
“I’m sorry,” Amber said. “I’m just tired I guess.”
A realization came to her and she smacked her forehead.
“I know why I can’t find my phone! I left it in Dakar.”
She collapsed in the doctor’s chair. Pemba came to her then patted her shoulder.
“You should change,” Pemba replied.
“I wish I could,” Amber mused.
Pemba smiled. “I meant your clothes. You should change into the dress Mama Alla gave you.”
“Oh yeah, right.” Amber had forgotten the dress. She went to the bathroom. Bissau and Grandma’s voices drifted down the narrow hallway and she smiled. Despite everything it was good to be together again. She entered the bathroom, undressed quickly then sponged off. The process calmed her somewhat. As she dressed she considered her reactions to Pemba’s questions about Bissau. Could it be she was jealous? No, that couldn’t possibly be it. She’d only known him briefly. She was just tired, hot and ...homesick. That’s was it. She wanted to go home. The excitement of an adventure was gone. At least they were almost to Marai. She’d choose this Sana then go home and never see Marai again.
The dress fit perfectly, the fabric ideal for the conditions. Amber held the head wrap in her hand, having no idea what to do with it. She looked at herself in the mirror for a moment then smiled. Mama Alla knew what she was talking about. She left the bathroom and then entered the room with Grandma and Bissau. Grandma smiled when she saw her; Bissau’s eyes went wide, him mouth forming a circle.
“Now you’re home,” Grandma said. Bissau said nothing.
Pemba clapped her approval. “You look beautiful!”
“Thank you,” she replied. Her eyes went to Bissau again. A slight smile came to his face then he looked away.
“Pemba, where does one buy camels?” he asked.
Pemba beamed. “Come, I will show you.”
“I’ll come, too,” Amber said, a little too eager.
“No Amber. Stay with me,” Grandma insisted.
Pemba grabbed Bissau’s arm then dragged him from the house. Amber watched them leave, fighting the illogical roil of emotions in her head.
“Come sit by me,” Grandma said. “I’ll fix your head wrap.”
Amber sat by Grandma then handed her the head wrap.
“I’m glad you’re better Grandma,” she said
Grandma began wrapping her hair. “You’ve handled this well, grand baby. I didn’t know what to expect from you, but you have exceeded everything I could imagine.”
Amber let her guard down. She closed her eyes and sighed.
“I’m not doing as well as you think,” she replied.
“You’re doing fine. We’re almost home. Once you select the Sana we’ll be on our way.”
“That shape shifting woman,” Amber said. “Was she actually trying to kill us?”
Grandma patted her back. “The position of Sana is a powerful and cherished role. But the Maraibu are a different folk than those we know. I believe she’s been sent to delay our arrival, nothing more. If you don’t select the Sana the elders will. Whoever is trying to prevent our arrival has influence among the elders. It is the elders who will select the next Sana should we not arrive in time. The elders don’t have our discriminating ability.”
“Don’t baby me,” Amber said. “This is more serious than you say.”
“We’ll be fine,” Grandma said. “Don’t you worry. Now let’s talk about Bissau.”
Amber stiffened. “What about him?”
“I see the way you look at him and how he looks at you. Remember the stories I told you?”
“Yes.”
“Well, the marriage of a man and woman in Marai is a very involved process.”
Amber jerked her head from Grandma’s hands. “Wait a minute! Who’s talking about marriage?”
“Calm down, baby girl,” Grandma said. “I’m just trying to explain some things to you. Attraction between men and woman is natural, but serious relationships can be complex. No one is suggesting that you and Bissau would want to marry or even date, but it is a situation that might cause friction if it came to be. So, it’s best you do a better job at keeping your emotions under control.”
Amber was about to argue but the firm look in her Grandma’s eyes told her the conversation was over.
“I will,” was all she said.
Grandma smiled and hugged her. “Good. Now let’s take a look.”
Amber stood then faced Grandma, striking a model pose.
“Beautiful!” Grandma said.
Amber went to the room then looked in the mirror. She loved what she saw. She made a note to add head wraps to her wardrobe.
“It’s wonderful,” she said as she went back to Grandma. “You’ll have to teach me.”
“I will. Now let’s sit here all hugged up until Bissau and Pemba return.”
The two returned about an hour later. Bissau’s face beamed as he walked up to them.
“Everything has been arranged. We’ll set out in the morning. Once we get to Marai we will be safe.”
“We visited Mama Alla’s booth,” Pemba added. “I told her how beautiful you looked in the dress.”
“How much do we owe her?” Grandma said.
“Nothing,” Pemba replied. “She said it’s a special gift for a special girl.” Pemba frowned. “She never gave me a dress!”
“I’ll give you the money,” Grandma said. “You can buy your own.”
Pemba squealed. “Thank you!”
Grandma turned her attention back to Bissau.
“Once we arrive at Marai how will we enter?” Grandma asked. “Is the barrier still intact?”
Bissau nodded. “Master Jakada has provided me with the means to penetrate the Veil.”
Grandma sighed. “It’s been so long.”
“Yes, it has,” Bissau answered.
Pemba looked at them in a curious way.
“Don’t ask,” Amber advised.
Amber took a quick glance and Bissau then looked away. Things were getting more complicated than she imagined. But now they were on the last leg of this strange adventure, she hoped. It couldn’t have come at a better time.