Books By Jean Sasson

Swirling Sands       page 6                go to page  1  2  3  4  5  6  7  8

Since Sara’s unfortunate first marriage, when she was brutalized at the hands of a cruel husband, everyone in our family is determined to offer Sara unconditional physical protection.

Nura moved forward to shield Sara, but she was not as fast as her youngest sister. 

I stepped in front of Sara just as Faten’s hand reached out for her. 

I felt a sharp tug on my face.  The crazy Bedouin woman had twisted my nose!

I had once heard my father say that, “He that does not make a Bedouin fear him, will soon fear the Bedouin.”  Quite obviously, this woman would understand nothing but force.

As Faten reached out to twist my nose once more, I gave a loud cry as I leapt toward her. 

It has been years since I was involved in any kind of physical altercation, but my years of childhood fighting with the much larger Ali had taught me to make my moves swift and certain.  I am too small to long outlast a big woman like Faten.  I moved quickly to get a stranglehold on her neck, forcing her backwards onto the floor.  I tripped on my long skirt and fell on top of my opponent.

The other Bedouin women obviously hated Faten, for they did nothing to help her; rather, they laughed and cheered me on.

One woman shouted, “Oh, Princess!  Poke out her eyes!”

Another encouraged me, “Twist her neck!”

My sisters became hysterical with fear that the vicious Faten would get the best of their baby sister.  Their screams resonated through the small tent.

Faten managed to scrape a handful of sand from the floor, and tossed it into my face/

Blinded, I pulled Faten’s hair until her hands clawed the air as she pleaded for Allah’s mercy.

For good measure I pounded her head twice on the hard earth, then rose to my feet.  While brushing off my skirt, I offered the greatest insult I could think of, “This is how you welcome your guests?”


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