But the echo of Jacob’s voice refused to abandon Rebekah. Not even the stars of the sky should set eyes on a single toenail of yours. Venus is the only other male who will glance at a single strand of your hair! She went from door to door, the burning between her breasts and the need for revenge eternal.

One night, a male client, in exchange for spending an hour with her, offered her more than enough to frame the tapestry of her lofty dreams. Rebekah dumped her sack of metals into the garbage pit. A whore’s disgrace was already stamped on her. Why not profit from the shame and amass a respectable dowry for Gold Dust?

Rebekah had a cobbler stitch her sandals with soles that imprinted FOLLOW ME on the dirt road. Then she made it known to her male clients she would readily entertain them if they promised to fade from her life without leaving behind so much as a whiff of their intimate scent.

Around the baths and in the back stalls of the bazaar, tales about a mark between Rebekah’s breasts circulated among her men. They swore that the mark changed shape with her emotions, glowed when she made love, and burned to the touch when she was angry. The exact shape remained a mystery to all save Rebekah and her men, who whispered they were certain “the thing” was a supernatural phenomenon. Rebekah’s evenings grew busier as curious men—single, married, fathers, and grandfathers, Jews, Christians, and Muslims—rushed to visit this marvelous gift of God: a violet-eyed beauty who wore nothing but a mark between her breasts and a sprig of mint behind her ear.

Common men came in search of an hour of excitement; scholars came who wished for nothing but a space to rest their weary minds, and an occasional warrior came who felt a need to boast of his triumphs. Rebekah learned of the peculiarities of men, what transformed an ordinary man into an exceptional soldier and what caused the fall of great kings.

Rebekah was selective, receiving mostly wealthy men. Occasionally, if a poor soul came knocking on her door, she would oblige for less than her usual price if he had a pleasing voice. She was still young and full of hope and believed she would one day unravel the mystery of the voice that continued to haunt her.

5

The lucky patterns in the slush at the bottom of the coffee cup, the feminine curve of Gold Dust’s hips, the inviting sway of her walk, her expansive laughter and inquisitive questioning told Rebekah her daughter was ready to be presented to the world.

Rebekah set out to search for the most educated bachelor in the Jewish Quarter. Wisdom, she had decided, granted a man confidence and ease in his relationship with women. Illiterate men like Jacob made up for their ignorance by stifling a woman’s soul. Rebekah’s search was brief. Not many families in the Quarter were well off and had an educated son the right age for Gold Dust. Rebekah learned that a merchant, Rouh’Allah the Spirit of God, and his son, Ebrahim, lived in a residence of real fired brick, an extravagance where baked mud and straw were common.