Princess Sultana's Daughters

while my sisters
burst into loud laughter.
    Reema held her hand in the air, asking for
silence so that she could complete her story.
    Mother had caught her youngest child stealing
from the personal belongings of others in our home. Mother said
that I had been discovered stealing toys, books, candy, cookies,
and even items for which I had no use, such as Ali’s record
collection. Mother told Reema that she had tried every tactic and
punishment and nothing had succeeded, that I was a child who could
not be shamed into obeying her mother. Now, Mother needed Reema’s
assistance in saving my soul.
    Mother made Reema swear that each time she
prayed, for the rest of her days on earth, she would never cease to
ask God to protect Sultana, guide Sultana, and forgive Sultana.
    With teary eyes glistening, Reema looked at
me and said, “Sultana. I have wearied of worrying about your sinful
conduct. That promise has been a great burden, for I am a Muslim
who not only prays the five obligatory daily prayers, but who prays
on many other occasions. A promise made to my dear mother can never
be broken, so I know that I must pray for you until I pass from
this earth. But now I pray that you are no longer a thief and my
prayers have been answered!”
    The room burst with the sound of eight other
voices, for each of my sisters was whooping with laughter,
screaming over the sounds of the others. Once calm returned, we
made the discovery that my mother had requested and received the
identical promise from each and every sister! Each had been
convinced that she was the only sibling privy to the secret that
her baby sister was a little thief! For twenty years, none had
broken her promise by telling. When the truth of the situation came
over us, our wild and hysterical laughter could be heard throughout
Nura’s palace.
    I felt a keen sense of relief. Surely I was
protected by many of God’s angels, for each of my sisters was
devout and said many daily prayers.
    In a joking manner, Tahani asked me
point-blank. “Sultana, we would like to know if God has answered
our prayers. Have you taken anything not belonging to you since the
time of your youth?”
    I could see that my sisters expected me to
reply in a negative manner, for they could not imagine that I was
still a petty thief. I could not keep my face from a trembling
smile, and I began to fidget, remembering Ali’s Wonder Garment,
which was packed away with my belongings in the room that I was
occupying.
    Surprised at my hesitant reaction, Nura said,
“Sultana?”
    “Wait a moment,” I said, and ran to get the
garment I had stolen from Ali’s home.
    No one could believe her eyes or ears when I
returned to the room wearing Ali’s underpants, and when I read the
instruction sheet and placed two bananas into the special
“strategic” pouch, Nura tried to be firm in her disapproval, but
hysterical laughter overwhelmed my sisters, and three had to leave
the room, while another claimed that she had wet her pants.
    We could not control our glee, even after
three of Nura’s servants came running into the palace, fearful of
the tremendous noise they had heard from distant gardens.
    After calm returned, the telephone rang, and
our thoughts turned to more serious matters. The caller was Nashwa
asking for her mother, Sara. It seemed that Nashwa was telephoning
from Monaco to complain to her mother about her cousin Amani. My
daughter had been following her cousin in Monaco and had appointed
herself a one-woman “vice and social corruption committee.”
    Nashwa’s indignation was running high, for
Amani had gone so far as to take her cousin’s makeup, nail polish,
and sunglasses, saying that for Nashwa to wear such things made her
a violator of Islamic mores!
    Nashwa told her mother that if someone did
not control Amani, she was going to have three French friends
follow her that evening and strip off her clothes, leaving her clad
only in her underwear in an area filled with tourists. That should
get the prude’s mind set on topics other than Nashwa’s
morality.
    The evening’s conversation shifted away from
Ali’s under- pants, and none of my sisters could shake the irony of
Sultana’s daughter caught in a religious fervor while Sara’s child
was happily lounging in discos.
    I left the room for a moment to call Kareem,
advising him of the tension between our child and her cousin. My
husband said that he had already decided to keep Amani by his side
until she was safely returned