zar

they said she was possessed by demons. they said she challenged the spirits. they sat in the parlor and clucked and gossiped about someone’s sister and someone’s daughter. they said she was a distant relative. they said we used to play together as children. that we measured the breadth of the sky with our hands. and played dress-up in our mothers’ wardrobes. but that didn’t matter anymore. that was before the demons. that was before she screamed in the bathroom. that was before she called them out of the dark. before the headaches and the muteness and the doctors and the psychologists and the sheikhs and the priests. and the evening calls to prayer rang in the night. it was time for the zar to begin. in auntie rosa’s courtyard. in the dark of cairo illuminated by kerosene lamps. in a perimeter decorated with burning candles whose tongues licked the smoky haze of the air. and there was an altar. right over there. stacked with dry fruit. and roasted nuts. and a jug of cool rosewater. they said the fruit and nuts were an offering. one has to keep the demons satisfied. and the aroma of frankincense and oud swirled around us. all ladies in white gallabeyyas and sheer headscarves. and there was a rooster. a red rooster. he squawked to heaven because he knew. and the one they called kodia. SHE. a mystical woman who communed with the spirits. she came in like the queen of sheba in her gallabeyya of royal blue silk. she blinded us with her light. and her gold-capped teeth that glistened in the night. droplets of liquid fire. and the young lady. that one possessed by the demons. she was brought in like a calf to the slaughter. robed in white from neck to ankle like the bride she was to be. before she became the devil’s bride. eyes lined with black kohl. wrists wrapped with gold and silver amulets. hands and feet painted with red henna. and the voices said oh my soul. how my heart aches for her. look at her skin. like fresh milk. ya habibti helwa wi zayy el amar. she’s as beautiful as the moon. and they said after the blood is shed you have to close your eyes. don’t look at her. don’t challenge the spirits. she challenged the spirits and look at her now. malbousa a’ouzou billah. she’s the devil’s bride. and the men came. with a tambourine and a tabla and a flute and a mangour. and they wore long emerald gallabeyyas with red sashes at their waists. and turban-like scarves around their heads. and their kohl-rimmed eyes were like pools of black oil. and SHE. she whispered something. a prayer or an invocation or a spell. poured a handful of powdered incense over the red-hot coals in that incense burner in the corner. and the coals burned orange and the incense sizzled and the smoke curled up into the air. and the music began. doom tikka tik doom tikka tik doom tikka tik and the kodia’s head was an erratic pendulum doom tikka tik doom tikka tik doom tikka tik and the women swayed in a circle around the altar doom tikka tik doom tikka tik doom tikka tik and the dervishes whirled and whirled doom tikka tik doom tikka tik doom tikka tik and their finger cymbals clanged and the flute wailed and the possessed glided. manic eyes. catatonic limbs. beautiful ghost with a face of skin and bones. and i remembered i remembered how we used to climb that mango tree in my grandmother’s garden and jump over the fence to the neighbor’s side and pick her red roses and run like devils were chasing us and i remembered her this girl this demon girl always quiet always quieter than the rest of us always shy and i remembered how one time we’d made her cry told her her brother was retarded and i remembered how one time we’d made her lie told her to run home and tell her mother salma had fallen off a tree and broken her leg but there was a woman. a woman in black. she held the sacrificial rooster by the wings. grabbed the poor creature so he couldn’t even flutter. and she whirled and whirled and whirled. and the rooster whirled like a weathervane. and the music whirled into the night doom tikka tik doom tikka tik doom tikka tik and there were heads that whirled to the rhythm and there were scarves that swirled around shoulders and there was hair that bounced in the air and there was a voice that howled at the moon and there were eyes that rolled back in their sockets and there was spume that spattered from mouths and there were words mumbled in strange tongues and there was a woman who twitched like a snake on the ground and the circle of dancers bubbled like lava and the possessed was lost in the crowd but a wave of dancers ebbed and there she was thin fragile pale. chest heaving. head rolling. black curls twisting. twisting in the air and the voices said somebody support her somebody catch her before she falls and they hovered and reached and pulled back. and the darawish reached up emerald-clad arms and removed their headdresses and their hair fell in gleaming tresses cascading sheets of midnight black and long locks whirled and whirled and whirled and an agonized scream cut the air and the possessed that one with the demons the one we’d played with as children she crumbled to the ground and the music stopped. and the night was silent. and there was an awkward air. in auntie rosa’s courtyard there was an awkward air. and the sacrifice was brought to the kodia. and there was squawking squawking godawful squawking. and SHE. she slipped a knife out of her brass belt. slid it across the rooster’s neck. swift and bold. and the bird jerked once. and the sacrificial blood flowed crimson red on the white marble floor. and they lifted the possessed. brought her to the brew. dipped her hands into it. guided them to her face her hair her body. and the stench of acrid sweat and oxidizing blood hung in the air like a tumid shroud. and they sprinkled her face with rosewater mayya mayya mayya mayya mayya bismillah bismillah bismillah and she opened her kohl-streaked eyes and let out a scream. a scream that made the blood simmer in our bones. and a lady screamed. screamed a scream from the depths of her womb. screamed a mother’s scream and said oh my child why won’t they let you be? and the women rushed to the mother’s side. the mother of the devil’s bride. god help you. allah ma’aki they said. and under their breath they muttered god protect us from all evil. a’ouzou billah min al shaytan al rajeem. and they held up their palms to ward off the spirits. and the mother said when will my child be freed from these demons? must she die so they can be satisfied? and SHE. she said only god in his infinite power can free her. the sacrifice will satisfy the lust of the demons. but the power belongs to god and him alone. and the mother choked. choked on her sobs and said where is he? nothing is working. not the doctors or the psychologists or the sheikhs or the priests. not the bible or the qur’an or the bedouin incantations. my beautiful daughter is dying and where is god. why does he disappear when i beg his help? why is he deaf to a mother’s prayers? and the women said don’t lose your faith. god will deliver her. this is his promise. just believe in his power and your daughter will be spared. but the mother rolled her head up to the heavens. raked her desperate fingernails over her face. looked out at the invincible darkness. and said. i don’t know what to believe anymore.