Princess Sultana's Circle (7 page)

Sara turned a somber face
to her niece. “Amani, give me the bottles and then, please leave
the room.”

“
But…”

Sara gently took the
bottles from Amani’s hands. “Now, child. Do as I say. Leave the
room.”

Next to her father, Amani
loved and respected her Auntie Sara more than anyone. Now she
obeyed, but not without a parting threat. “I’m going to tell Father
about this—the moment he arrives home.”

As dazed as I was, I could
feel my stomach turn at the thought.

Sara carefully laid the
empty bottles on the foot of my bed, and then she took charge:
“Everyone, leave the room.”

“
Not me!” Maha
wailed.

“
Yes, you, too,
Maha.”

When Maha bent to kiss me,
she whispered, “Don’t worry about Amani, Mother, I know how to
quiet her foolish tongue.”

The expression in my eyes
must have betrayed my curiosity, for Maha clarified, “I’ll threaten
to tell all Amani’s religious friends that she wears revealing
clothes and flirts with boys!”

Even though this was not
true, I knew that such a warning would cause Amani grave concern,
for her reputation is that of a true believer who could never
commit a single sin. I knew this was wrong, but I also realized the
graveness of my current situation should Kareem be alerted to my
weakness. Therefore, I did not reprimand Maha, but I gave her a
tight smile which she might take to signify reluctant
approval.

As she left the room, Maha
struggled to push the heavy wooden door against the door facings
which I now noticed had been shattered.

Sara answered my unspoken
question. “When you would not respond to our cries, I ordered one
of the drivers to knock down the door.”

Tears of humiliation came
into my eyes.

“
You lay like one dead,
Sultana,” Sara said as she picked up a cloth and began to wipe my
forehead. “I feared the worst,” she said with a great sigh. She
then took a glass of tomato juice and encouraged me to sip a little
through a straw. “Your silence frightened me out of my wits!” She
plumped up the cushions under my head before sitting beside me on
the bed.

Sara took a deep breath
before saying, “Sultana, you must tell me now,
everything.”

Although Sara appeared
unperturbed, I could tell she was steeped in disappointment,
because it was reflected in her dark eyes. Feeling that death would
be welcome for one as wretched as I, my shoulders shook as I began
to weep in earnest.

Sara stroked my face and
arms. Her voice was gentle as she told me a grim truth, “Sultana,
your daughters, and your servants, all tell me that you have begun
drinking a great deal of alcohol.”

My eyes flew open. So, my
furtive drinking had not been so secret after all!

Sara was waiting for an
explanation. At that moment, I knew that my sister could not
understand the true source of my pain. I cried out, “You still have
little children who need you!”

I could tell by the
bewildered grimace on Sara’s face that she was beginning to fear
for my mental, as well as my physical, well being.

Frustrated, I wailed, “And,
you have your books!”

It was true! Sara had a
great love for collecting books on a wide range of topics that
interested her. Her life’s hobby, collecting and reading books,
gave her endless hours of joy and contentment. Sara’s valuable
library consisted of books in Turkish, Arabic, English, French, and
Italian. Her art books, stored in their special bookcases, were
lovely beyond description. She had also amassed a priceless
collection of ancient, handwritten manuscripts describing the
golden age of the Arabs. I knew that if a great cataclysmic tragedy
should ever leave Sara alone in the world, she would seek and find
solace in her stacks of books.

“
Sultana. What are you
speaking about?”

“
And your husband never
leaves on long trips!” Asad’s work rarely took him from his home,
as did Kareem’s. “And Asad loves you more than Kareem loves
me!”

Sara was married to
Kareem’s brother, Asad. I had known for many years that Kareem
would never love me as intensely as Asad adored my sister. While I
had never begrudged Sara and Asad’s great love, I often wistfully
yearned for the same devotion from Kareem.

“
Sultana!”

In between sobs of
self-pity, I began to explain. “My children are nearly grown—they
no longer want their mother in their lives.” What I said was true.
Abdullah had recently turned twenty-two, Maha was nineteen, and
Amani was seventeen. Three of Sara’s six children were young enough
that they still required their mother’s daily attention.

“
Sultana, please. You are
not making sense.”

“
Sara, nothing has turned
out as I planned! None of my three children are dependent on me any
longer…Kareem is away more than he is home...and there are
countless abused women in the world like Munira crying out for
help, and there’s nothing that I can do to help them!” I began to
sob hysterically. “And now, I’m afraid I’m becoming an
alcoholic.”

Facing the emptiness and
humiliation of my life for the first time, I cried out, “My life is
a failure!”

Sara’s arms wrapped around
me in a warm embrace. “Darling, you are the bravest person I’ve
ever known. Shhh, little sister, now hush…”

Suddenly, Mother’s image
came to me. I wanted to be a child again, to be in those childhood
places, to forget all of the adult disappointments in between. I
wanted to go back in time. I shouted as loud as I could, “I want
Mother!”

“
Shhh, Sultana. Please stop
crying. Don’t you know that Mother is around us, even
now?”

My sobs began to soften as
I looked around the room. I was longing to see Mother once again,
even if her countenance only came to me in the form of an
apparition, as before in my dreams. But I could see nothing, and
said, “Mother’s not here.” After my sobs subsided, I described my
dream to Sara. For me, the pain of our mother’s death would never
heal.

“
You see,” Sara remarked,
“your dream proves my words to be true. Mother’s spirit is always
with us. Sultana, I, too, often sense Mother’s presence. She comes
to me at the oddest moments. Only yesterday, when I was looking in
a mirror, I clearly saw Mother appear behind me. I only caught a
glimpse of her, but it was enough to let me know that the day will
come when we will all be together once again.”

I felt a sense of peace
wash over me. If Sara had also seen Mother, then I knew that Mother
still existed. My sister’s integrity is never questioned by anyone
who knows her.

Sara and I sat quietly,
both of us remembering the days when we were innocent children, and
Mother’s unending reservoir of wisdom, understanding and love
sheltered us from most of life’s dangers.

When I fidgeted under the
bedcovers, the two empty whiskey bottles dropped from the bed to
the floor. Sara’s haunted eyes looked toward the bottles, and then
at me. Recalling the reason for the alarm that had brought Sara to
my side, a black depression once again settled over me.

“
You are on a dangerous
path, Sultana,” Sara whispered.

I sat and twirled my hair
around my finger. After a time I burst out, “I hate my life of
idleness!”

“
Sultana, you can do more
with your life. You must take responsibility for your own
happiness. A hobby or occupation that consumed your attention would
be good for you.”

“
How can I? The veil
interferes with everything I do!” I grumbled, “I can’t believe that
we were unlucky enough to be born in a country that forces its
women to wear shrouds of black!”

“
I thought it was
loneliness that was driving you to drink,” Sara dryly noted. With
eyes half-closed in weariness, she said, “Sultana, I do believe
that you would argue with Allah, Himself!”

Filled with unruly
emotions, unsure of the exact cause of my current turmoil, I looked
at Sara and shrugged, “Amani is right, you know. I have been cursed
by the Prophet. And he must have cursed me on many occasions. Why
else would everything bitter in my life come together at
once?”

“
You are being foolish,
Sultana! I do not believe that our Holy Prophet would curse a
troubled woman,” she said. “Is it a life without problems that you
are seeking?”

“
Inshallah!” (God
willing!)

“
You want a life that does
not exist, Little Sister. Everyone who lives has problems. She
paused, then said, “Even Kings suffer problems that cannot be
resolved.”

I knew that she was
referring to the failing health of our Uncle Fahd, the man who was
the King of Saudi Arabia. As the years passed, he had become
increasingly frail. He was now a man with everything in life but
good health. When he had suffered a serious medical setback
recently, every member of our family had been reminded of our own
mortality, and the fact that all the money and modern health care
in the world could not keep death at bay forever.

Sara’s firm tone relaxed,
“Sultana, you must learn to bear the pain of life without reaching
for improper solutions.” She nudged a whiskey bottle aside with her
foot. “You have become the slave of a new power, a power that is in
danger of creating even more serious problems than the ones that
drove you to drink!”

I then divulged my deepest
fear. “Amani might tell Kareem.”

Sara told me flatly, “You
tell him first. Anyhow, it’s best not to keep secrets from your
husband, Sultana.”

I looked closely at my
sister. Without a trace of rancor, I realized that I had always
been outshone by her beauty and by her virtue.

Even though she had been
called from her home unexpectedly, Sara was impeccably dressed in a
freshly ironed silk dress, with shoes of matching color. An
exquisite set of pearls was fastened around her delicate neck. Her
thick black hair was fashioned in a flattering style; her skin
lovely; her eyelashes were so long and thick that she required no
make-up.

Sara’s personal life
paralleled her perfect appearance. Her marriage to Asad was the
best I had ever known. I had never heard her raise her voice to her
husband, or even complain about him. Many times I had tried to
tempt Sara to confide a weakness belonging to her husband, without
success. While I was guilty of shouting at, pinching, and even
slapping my children, I had never seen Sara lose control with any
of her children. My sister was the satisfied mother of the six
children that Huda, our family slave, had predicted so many years
before.

Although problems
occasionally arose with her second child, a daughter named Nashwa,
Sara remained gently firm. Sara even had established a warm
relationship with Asad and Kareem’s mother, the unpopular and
difficult Noorah. In addition, my sister was one of the few Al
Sa’uds I knew who never drank alcohol nor smoked cigarettes.
Certainly, Sara had no secrets to keep from her husband. How could
such a flawless woman ever understand that as I grew older, my bad
habits had increased, rather than diminished?

It seemed that my life had
always been imbued in some deep intrigue. My drinking was only one
of the many secrets I kept from Kareem. Over the years of our
marriage, I had presented myself in a more flattering light to my
husband than was true. I even lied to Kareem about the number of
kilos I had recently gained!

Not wishing to further
disappoint my sister with additional knowledge of the weaker points
of my character, I kept from blurting out everything that had come
into my mind. Instead, I hastened to promise, “I will never drink
again, if only I do not have to confess to Kareem. I could not bear
it. He would never forgive me.”

“
Oh? What do you think
Kareem might do?”

I stretched the truth
mightily. “Well, he might beat me.”

Sara’s black eyes grew
large with disbelief.

“
You know yourself, Sara,
that Kareem dislikes people who cannot control their habits. At the
very least, his love for me will dim.”

Sara’s hands fluttered,
“Then what will we do to destroy this habit? The servants told me
that you drink to the point of drunkenness when Kareem is
away.”

Indignantly I demanded,
“Who said such a thing?”

“
Sultana. Curb your anger.
The information was given out of genuine concern for your
well-being.”

“
But…”

Sara’s voice was firm and
unsympathetic, “No. I will not tell you.”

I tried to think which of
the servants might have spied on me, but with so many women in the
palace, there was no way to be certain where to direct my
anger.

Sara pursed her lips,
thinking. “Sultana, I have an idea. Ramadan will soon be upon us.
At that time, you will be unable to eat or drink during the
daylight hours, anyway. And, when Kareem is not with you, we can
make sure Maha or I remain by your side. That will be the time to
defeat this sinful craving.” Sara leaned toward me with a smile,
“We will spend much time together.” I heard the warm affection in
her voice, “It will be like our days together when we were
children!”