Tourists

The twilight sky was blue-grey and the girls should have returned to their hotel hours ago. They continued up the narrow labyrinth of the medina around one corner and the next. And the next. The walls were so high that when Dee looked up, she had no idea in which direction the sun had set. Every so often, they passed an ancient wooden door small enough to have been built for a gnome. The Moroccan desert air could no longer hold its heat and was chilly now. They passed a man in a long robe who led a donkey carrying a red cooler of soda on its back. The girls turned to each other.

“Coca-cola truck!” they whispered in unison, giggling.

At last they came upon the souk, or marketplace, which was barren except for a handful of stalls. The Berber carpet weavers had rolled up their rugs and left for the day. The metal workers had carried their lamps home. There was no sign of the mystical snake charmer. The girls recognized the canvas stall where they’d sipped mint tea and purchased saffron but it was empty. At last, they spotted the vendor in the far corner and approached. He appeared to be packing up his goods and another man they hadn't seen before was helping.

“Ah, my beautiful American girls!” greeted the dark young man. Earlier in the day, the vendor had been wearing long colorful robes. Now, he and his friend wore old Levis and torn T-shirts. At first, neither girl said anything.

“Meet my friend, Ahmed,” said the vendor, grin wide and welcoming. Ahmed bowed his head. “We are going out to celebrate tonight. If you haven’t heard yet, the King has been born a son!”

“Really? You celebrate when the King had a baby?” Dee asked.

“Not a baby. A son. A new king,” Ahmed said.

“We’ve come back for the tea set,” Audrey said.

They settled on a price. Audrey was digging through her money belt, recovering American bills scrunched beneath Euros. The vendor had carefully wrapped each colored glass with its arabesque structured yet delicate pattern in newspaper before placing it carefully into a plastic bag.

“What are your plans for this evening?” he asked.

Dee mumbled something about catching a train in the morning. Audrey was fumbling with her bags, the weight of the tea set leaving her feeling unbalanced.

“Come celebrate with us! Just for a little while. Then we will walk you to your hotel.” The vendor approached more closely now. Dee could see the dirt under his fingernails and his breath smelled foul, like something rotting. She stepped away and Audrey followed. The four of them stood in the empty stall, smiling uncomfortably. Ahmed took a step back.

“They are too good for you, Yousef. Leave them be,” he said flatly.

Yousef’s face changed. The smile twisted high on his sunken cheeks vanished. His eyes went from bright to dark and concentrated. His left hand twitched against his side.