Chapter 4 Chapter Four

Maceline was very happy to see my recovery gradually, and for several days told me about the wonderful orchard in the oasis.She likes to be outdoors.During my illness, she happened to be free to go hiking, and she was still fascinated by it when she came back; but she didn't talk much about it, for fear of arousing my interest, and she also went with her, lest she see me listening to things I didn't enjoy. Fun and sad.Now that I am well, she intends to attract me with those sights, so that I may be cured.I also yearn for it, because I love walking and watching again.We went out together the next day.

She goes ahead.This road is really strange, and I have never seen it anywhere.It is sandwiched between two high walls, and it seems to stretch forward lazily; the gardens in the high walls are of different shapes, and the road is squeezed crookedly, making nine twists and eighteen turns.We stepped on it, and as soon as we turned a corner, we lost our way, we didn't know where we came from, and we didn't know where we were going.The warm stream flows along the path and against the high wall.The wall was built on the spot; the whole oasis is made of this kind of soil, which is a kind of reddish or light gray clay, which becomes darker when it is washed by water, cracks when it is exposed to the hot sun, and forms in the heat. It is hard, but after a heavy rain, it becomes soft again, and the ground is soft, leaving marks when walking barefoot.Palm tree branches protruded from the walls.As we approached, several turtledoves flew away.Marceline looked at me.

I forgot my tiredness and restraint, and walked silently, only feeling the relief in my chest, my mind swaying, and my senses and body were in a state of excitement.At this time, the breeze picked up, and all the palm leaves were shaking, and we saw the tallest palm tree leaning slightly; then the wind stopped, and the whole space was calm again, and I heard the sound of flutes in the wall, so we entered through a wall . The place is silent, as if outside of time, full of light and shadow, stillness and murmur: the murmur of running water, the brook that runs among the trees and waters the palms, the discreet calling of turtledoves, the sound of a child's flute melodious.The boy, looking at a herd of goats, who was almost naked, sat on a pier of a felled palm, did not panic when we approached, nor did he run away, except for a pause in the sound of the flute.

During this brief silence, I heard the echo of a flute in the distance.We walked a few steps forward, and Marceline said: "There is no need to go any further, these gardens are all similar; even if we come to the edge of the oasis, the garden will not be much spacious..." She spread the shawl on the ground : "Take a break." How long have we been there?I don't know; what does the length of time matter?Marceline was beside me; I lay with my head in her lap.The sound of the flute still circulates intermittently; the sound of gurgling water... and sometimes a sheep bleats twice.I close my eyes; I feel Maceline's cool hand on my forehead; I feel the soft light of the sun shining through the palm leaves; I think of nothing; what is the use of thinking?I have a strange feeling.

From time to time there was a new sound, and I opened my eyes, and it turned out to be the breeze among the palms; it could not blow on us, but only shook the palm leaves on high... The next morning, I revisited this garden with Marceline; That evening, I went again by myself.The shepherd boy is still playing the flute there.I went up and spoke to him.His name is Yusifu, he is only twelve years old, and he looks very handsome.He told me the names of the sheep and what the local name of the canal was.According to him, these canals do not have water every day, and they must be carefully calculated, distributed reasonably, and the trees should be irrigated and led away immediately.A small puddle for watering was dug under each palm tree, and there was a system of gates which the boy, as he played with, explained to me how to control the water and direct it to particularly dry places.

Another day later, I met Losif's brother.His name was Rashmi, he was a little older and not as good-looking as his brother.He stepped on the tree trunk to cut off the ridges left by the old leaves, and climbed up a palm tree with its top branches removed like climbing a ladder, and then came down nimbly, his clothes fluttered, revealing his golden body .He plucked a small earthen jar from the tree; the little earthen jar hung over the wound of a newly cut branch to catch the sap that flowed from the palm, and used it to make the wine, which the Arabs drank very much.At the invitation of Rashmi, I took a sip and didn't like it very much. I found it spicy, sweet and tasteless.

In the next few days, I went further and saw other shepherd boys and other sheep.As Marceline said, these gardens are all the same; yet each one is different. Marceline still keeps me company from time to time; however, as soon as I enter the orchard, I often leave her, saying that I am tired and want to sit down and rest, and she does not have to wait for me, because she needs to go far; Went for a walk.I stayed with the children.I soon became acquainted with many; I chatted long with them, learned their games, and taught them others, and lost all my coppers.Some of the children accompanied me on my long walks (I added a distance every day), and showed me new ways back, and carried me my coat and shawl, for I sometimes carried both.When we were about to part, I gave them some steel bars; sometimes they played and followed me until my door; sometimes they stepped through the door.

Moreover, Marceline also brought some children back from school, and she encouraged them to study; when school is over, obedient and good children can come.I brought another gang; however, they could play somewhere.We always go out of our way to have some sherbet and candy.Before long, without our even asking, other children came of their own accord.I remember each of them, and I can still see their faces in front of my eyes... At the end of January, the weather suddenly changed, and a cold wind blew, and my body immediately felt uncomfortable.For me, the great empty space between the city and the oasis has become impassable again; I am once again content to walk in the park.Then it began to rain; cold rain, and the mountains to the north were covered with snow as far as the eye could see.

In these dreary days, despondently, I stood by the fire and fought desperately against the disease, which, taking advantage of the bad weather, had the upper hand.Miserable days: I can neither read nor work; when I move a little, I sweat and feel uncomfortable all over; In these miserable days, all I can do is have fun with my children.Because of the rain, only the most familiar children came; their clothes were soaked, and they sat in a half circle around the fire.I'm too tired and too sick to just look at them; however, I'll get better in front of their healthy bodies.The children Marceline liked were weak and too honest; I was so annoyed with her and with them that I finally drove them away.Honestly, they evoke fear in me.

One morning, I made a novel discovery about myself.There was only Moktil and I in the room; he was the only one among the children under my wife's protection who did not repulse me in the slightest.I stood in front of the fire, with my elbows on the mantelpiece, as if absorbed in a book, but in the mirror I could see the movement of Mokteel behind me.I don't know why I kept spying on him out of curiosity.But he didn't know, he thought I was buried in a book.I caught him tiptoeing up to a table, snatched from it the scissors that Maceline had kept beside a piece of work, and tucked them into his cloak.My heart was beating violently for a moment, but the most sensible reasoning was useless, and I was not a little disgusted.That's not counting!I also can't be sure that I'm in a completely different mood than happy and joyful.After I gave Moktil enough time to steal me, I turned back to talking to him as if nothing had happened.Maceline was very fond of the child; yet I don't think I was afraid of embarrassing her when I saw her I didn't expose Mokteel and made up a nonsense story about the scissors missing.From this day on, Moktil is my favorite.