تلهّمت (حامية) شيبتها المرحوم، وطولة ذراعه، وسرعة كُراعه، واحتلاجه بين الثيران في موسم الحرث والدياس، ففاضت رموش عينها بالدمع الساخن، وتناوشتها الذكريات بين البيت والوادي، وغنّت (يا ليت ما مرّ من عمر الصبيّة توخّر، يكون ذاقت من الحالي مع المر شويّة) وعدّدت بعض محاسنه، واستدركت عندما لمحت جارها (المفتول) يطهر لصلاة الظهر، وكيف أن زهرة شبابها ذبلت، وهي تحرم نفسها من طوف وإلا طوفين من ساري ليل، وإلا قطّاع سيل، حشمة (سنعوب) اللي لا هو ملح يذوب، ولا لبن يروب، فانقلب مزاجها، واستعادت عذاباتها الوهمية معه، فانفرط لسانها بالدعاء على الفاني، الله يجعله في جحيم وحال سقيم، ويحرمه النعيم، ما قد بدا عليّه بعذق كادي يوم المطاليق يصدرون بالزنابيل والسُّفر تفوح بالعطر والزفر، وش التهم منه، لا كسوة يوم عيد ولا مرود جديد، وكي لا تظلمه قالت، ما باغش ذمتي كان راعي بشاشه، وضروسه تقضم المشاشه، وفي الشتا يخصي الكباشه، ويدفّي فراشه، رقّ عليه قلبها ثواني، ثم علّقت، جاه ما سدّه، تولاه أبو الصدر الدالع، والبطن البالع، والعقل الخالع، لين ما ظلّا فيّه عرق ينفح.
أفتنها ابنها (سنعوب) متى تخطبين لي (زينة) بنت خالتي؟ وهدّدها لو ما خطبتيها، لأسافر وما عاد تشوفيني، ردّت عليه، يا ولدي بنت خالتك شيمة وقيمة، وخطابتها عشرة، وخالتك تبغيها تدرس وتتخرج مدرّسة، وانته لا بعد فدت ولا صدت، ومن يوم استحبّ المولى في شيبتك، وأنا في رجا الله ثم في رجاك، ومن يطلب الفود جابه، والمراجل يفيدها مغبّر شاربه، وذا ما يغبّر شاربه ما دسّمه، رمى عمامته من فوق رأسه على ركبته، وأدخل أصابع كفه اليمين في شعره الأكعش، وصار يحك، ويسرد عليها حكاوي يسلي بها نهارها، ويصوّر لها أن ما مثله في البلد ولد، وحلف لها أنه تطارح مع الجنّي وطرحه، واقتعد وأضاف، ثم شالني الجنّي بكعشتي، وطحت كنّي جاي من جوّة العرش، وصحيت إلى ونّي تحت السرير، فضحكت، فقال، ما دام ضحكتِ، فمتى بتخطبين لي بنت خالتي؟ قامت، فطلب منها تزبط له البراد، وأخرج البكت، أقربت منه الكفكيرة والفنجان وقالت بضيقة، تكنفح.
شاورت (حامية) شقيقتها (نامية) وأبدت رغبة (سنعوب) وأنه منتحي (زينة) حليلة حميلة، فطلبت منها تعدّي تتقهوى وتسمع منها جوابها، قالت البنت، يا خالة ولدك لا ضيعة ولا بيعة، وما يعرف يراكب كلمتين فوق بعضها سواة الخلق، وأنا باكمّل دراستي، وذلحين قلي له، ما له في سوقي مسوَق، ونظرت لأمها قائلة، وش يقول المثل؟ ردّت أمها وخالتها، وش قال؟ فقالت: (ابعد اللحم ع اللحم لا يخرب)، وعندما سمع الردّ، حسّ في قلبه كما حزّ الجنابي، فاحتزم بجنبيّة الشيبة، وقام يقصّد ويحتلج: (الله يرحم جدّي اللي شرا الجنبيّة، يبغيني أوفي قالته واحتزم بها)، ومن تالي نهار، ركب مع سايق مرتدس، في الغمارة بخمسة ريال إلى الطائف، وحلف ليغدي سنعوب سنعوبين، ويرد الصاع صاعين.
قال له سواق الشاحنة، انصب ركبتك من فوق القير يا واد، ردّ عليه، انصب ركبتك أنت الله يجعلها تعطب، وشدّت الهروج، فقال، اعرف ماضيك لا تقعد تنخّس الكلام يا شرّاب القاز، فعلّق السواق بلهجة مكيّة، ما هو بدري عليك السفر يا غرنوق، فتضاحك الركاب، فحزم عمامته على رأسه، وقال، تحسبني باقي أرضع أصبعي، وأضاف، ترى يميني طويلة لا تخليني أمدّها، فقال السواق، طويلة مدّها في صحن الرزّ يا فرخ القُمري، فتعالت الضحكات، فحلف (سنعوب) ما عاد يبقى في الغمارة إلا ما بقي، وصعد إلى السلّة، وكلما قيّلوا في وادي أو باتوا على ربوة وقام السواق يصلّي بالركاب، يفنجل عينه في السايق، ويقول، تصلّي يا سكّار، فيضحك السايق، ويرد عليه، يا غرنوق ساعة لقلبك، وساعة لربك، وساعة كفاك الله شرّها.
وصل إلى مقصده، وجاودوا به أهل الخبرة عند تاجر فاكهة، واعتنى به عمه المكاوي، وسجّله في مدرسة ليلي، وتعلّم وغدا صاحب قلم، وخبر الهوى وعاشه بكل التفاصيل، وتولى دكان عمه، ونجح فسلّمه الخيط والمخيَط، يقفل الدكان، ويرجع للدهليز المُخصص للسهرة، وفي ليالي الشتاء الطويل تعلّم الفنّ على أصوله، وصار خبير في الكيف، وماهر في تخمير الفواكه منتهية الصلاحية، وذات ليلة صحي ضميره، فقال: شمتّ بالسواق السكّار، وابتلاني ربي، وردد المثل: (عاب على ظُهريّة الجُلاس، وما حبكت السهرة إلا وهو بينهم يدير الكأس).
بعد أعوام، تذكّر (زينة) بنت خالته، وعينه قاطعة تالي الأيام على خزنة (الكركوبة) كما يُطلق على عمه المكاوي، وكانت يده طويلة أكثر من اللازم، وعاد للقرية بالأرزاق، والمفارش، والكساوي، ورادي بسماعتين، ومن وفرة ما عاد به، بغت أمه تحاحي، وخالته كل يوم وهي مقبلة عليهم بالفتّة والقشر، وسنعوب ما يفتي بزينة الذِّكر، قالت الخالة، ما للبنت إلا ولد خالتها، فانفرجت أساريره وأسارير والدته، ورغم تمسك زينة بموقفها وترديدها (ابعد اللحم ع اللحم لا يخرب)، إلا أن أمها، طمعت وفركت شحمة إذنها، وهي تردد ضريتِ بالفقر يا بنت آبوها.
ليلة العرس، أخرج سنعوب السوبيا من جركل مدفون في العلف، وكلّف (زينة) البنت القرويّة العفيفة ما لا طاقة لها به، وفي لحظة حماقة حذفها بالرادي، فصابها في المضّاغة، وفاضت روحها قبل طلوع الفجر، وهرب (سنعوب) قبل شروق الشمس للجنوب، وأظلمت القرية التي كانت زينة بدر ليلها وشمس ضحاها، وحزنت حتى حصى الطريق التي كانت تسرح وتروح منها، وقضت أم زينة، بقية عمرها تندب حظها وحظ بنتها، وتعاتب نفسها، ليتني سمعت كلام زينة (ابعد اللحم ع اللحم لا يخرب).
The protector (Hamiya) was overwhelmed by her late husband’s gray hair, his long arms, and the speed of his movements, as he worked among the bulls during the harvest season. Tears streamed down her eyelashes, and memories flooded her mind between the house and the valley. She sang, “I wish the years of the girl had been delayed, so she could have tasted a bit of the current state with bitterness,” and she counted some of his virtues. She recalled when she spotted her neighbor (Sanaub) preparing for the noon prayer, and how the flower of her youth had withered while she deprived herself of a night’s enjoyment, or even two, due to the modesty of (Sanaub), who was neither salt that dissolves nor milk that curdles. Her mood shifted, and she recalled her imaginary torments with him, and her tongue unraveled in a prayer against the transient, asking God to place him in hell and in a wretched state, denying him bliss. She thought of the day when he appeared to her with a bunch of cardamom, while the young men were leaving with baskets and trays, fragrant with perfume and sweat. What did he consume? No festive attire, nor a new garment. To avoid being unfair, she said, “I won’t blame my conscience; he was a shepherd with a good heart, and his teeth chewed on the tender shoots, and in winter, he would castrate the rams and warm his bed.” Her heart softened for him for a few seconds, then she remarked, “What was it that filled him? It was the one with the protruding chest, the bulging belly, and the foolish mind, until there was no sweat left in him.”
Her son (Sanaub) asked her, “When will you propose to (Zina), my cousin?” He threatened her, saying if she didn’t propose, he would travel and she wouldn’t see him again. She replied, “My son, your cousin is a girl of dignity and worth, and her engagement is a matter of ten. Your aunt wants her to study and graduate as a teacher, and you haven’t even made a move yet. Since the Lord favored you with your gray hair, I have been relying on God and then on you. Whoever seeks a bride will find one, and a man’s worth is shown by the dust on his mustache. If he doesn’t have dust on his mustache, he is not worth it.” He threw his turban from his head onto his knee, inserted his right fingers into his curly hair, began to scratch, and told her stories to entertain her during the day, painting a picture for her that no boy in the village was like him. He swore to her that he had a conversation with a jinn and had thrown it off, adding, “Then the jinn lifted me by my curls, and I fell as if I was coming from beneath the throne, and I woke up to my moaning under the bed.” She laughed, and he said, “Since you laughed, when will you propose to my cousin?” She got up, and he asked her to prepare the coffee pot for him. He took out the packet, and as she approached him with the coffee pot and cup, she said with annoyance, “You’re annoying.”
Hamiya consulted her sister (Namiya) and expressed her desire for (Sanaub) and that he was interested in (Zina), a beautiful bride. She asked her to sit down, have coffee, and listen to her response. The girl said, “Aunt, your son is neither a loser nor a trader; he doesn’t know how to string two words together like a proper person, and I’m going to finish my studies. Right now, tell him he has no market value.” She looked at her mother and said, “What does the proverb say?” Her mother and aunt replied, “What did it say?” She said, “Keep the meat away from the meat, or it will spoil.” When he heard the response, he felt in his heart as if his daggers had been sharpened. He tightened his belt and began to walk and shout: “May God have mercy on my grandfather who bought the belt; he wants me to fulfill his words and wear it.” The next day, he rode with a driver in a truck, in the cabin for five riyals to Taif, and swore to treat Sanaub to a feast and repay the debt twofold.
The truck driver said to him, “Rest your knee on the gear, boy.” He replied, “You rest your knee; may God make it break.” The conversation escalated, and he said, “I know your past; don’t sit there spouting nonsense, you gas-drinker.” The driver commented in a Meccan dialect, “It’s not too early for you to travel, you silly goose,” and the passengers laughed. He tightened his turban on his head and said, “Do you think I’m still sucking my finger?” He added, “My right hand is long; don’t make me stretch it.” The driver replied, “Stretch it into the rice plate, you dove chick,” and laughter erupted. (Sanaub) swore that he wouldn’t stay in the cabin any longer than necessary, and he climbed to the basket. Whenever they stopped in a valley or rested on a hill and the driver prayed with the passengers, he would wink at the driver and say, “Are you praying, you drunkard?” The driver would laugh and respond, “A moment for your heart, a moment for your Lord, and a moment for you to be spared from its evil.”
He reached his destination, and the experienced people welcomed him at a fruit merchant’s place, where his uncle, the one with the mustache, took care of him. He enrolled him in a night school, and he learned and became a writer, experienced in love and lived it in all its details. He took over his uncle’s shop, succeeded, and was entrusted with the thread and needle, closing the shop and returning to the hall designated for the evening. During the long winter nights, he learned the art in its fundamentals, became an expert in the quality, and skilled in fermenting expired fruits. One night, his conscience awoke, and he said, “I smelled the driver’s liquor, and my Lord tested me,” and he repeated the proverb: “He criticized the back of the glass, but he didn’t enjoy the evening except while he was among them, pouring the cup.”
Years later, he remembered (Zina), his cousin, and his eyes were drawn to the treasure of (Al-Karkuba), as they called his uncle with the mustache. His hand was longer than necessary, and he returned to the village with provisions, blankets, and clothes, and he had two loudspeakers. With the abundance he brought back, his mother wanted to celebrate, and his aunt came to them every day with the dish and the peel. (Sanaub) didn’t mention Zina at all. The aunt said, “The girl has no one but her cousin,” and his and his mother’s faces brightened. Despite Zina’s insistence on her stance and her repeating, “Keep the meat away from the meat, or it will spoil,” her mother was tempted and rubbed the lobe of her ear, repeating, “You’ve brought poverty upon yourself, daughter of her father.”
On the wedding night, (Sanaub) took the drink from a jar buried in the fodder, and he burdened (Zina), the innocent village girl, with more than she could bear. In a moment of folly, he struck her with the drink, causing her to suffer, and her soul departed before dawn. (Sanaub) fled before sunrise to the south, and the village that had Zina as its moon by night and sun by day darkened. Even the stones on the road where she used to walk mourned. Zina’s mother spent the rest of her life lamenting her fate and her daughter’s, reproaching herself, “If only I had listened to Zina’s words, ‘Keep the meat away from the meat, or it will spoil.’”
