Dhandi struggled with the squirming babe upon her back as she walked through Agrabian marketplace, vendors loudly soliciting their wares.
“Halim,” she cooed, attempting to pacify him, “stop pulling Auntie Dhandi’s hair-ow!” Halim, defying his name’s meaning, continued pulling his fifteen-year old sitter’s ponytail.
“Halim!” Dhandi seethed, trying to keep a straight face as she walked past guards. Losing your temper at the Crown Prince of Agrabah was not well looked upon, even if you were on friendly terms with the Sultan and Sultana. The burly-looking guards glanced at the girl, who smiled innocently, and rushed off as a merchant shrieked several feet away. As the guards grew small in the distance, Dhandi sighed and carefully took the fussy infant off her back as she sat down on a barrel.
“What’s wrong, Halim?’ she asked the babe as he continued shrieking feverishly. “I gave you a change. They fed you before we left the palace.”
Halim began to turn maroon in his face as tears ran down his cherubic cheeks. A worried look appeared on her face.
“Maybe we shouldn’t have left.” Dhandi kicked off her slippers, her wide feet throbbing. “They know how to take care of you back there.”
Halim was as red as a beet, squirming in Dhandi’s lap. She frowned as she looked up, scanning past the city’s skyline.
“I left Eden’s bottle back home,” she said, “so I wouldn’t bother her while she’s with Genie. I mean, I’m not exactly a kid anymore.”
Halim grabbed a crease of her creamy orange dress and began sucking contentedly; Dhandi appearing aghast as she gently yanked it away. The child began screaming once more, to his keeper’s dismay.
“Imsorry,” she said quickly, trying to pacify the bawling babe in vain. She picked him up and, gently supporting his bottom, began gently bounce him against her shoulder. She saw a woman next door do this when she was nursing. Her baby managed to calm down that time. However, Halim continued to wail, tears soaking Dhandi’s shoulder. The girl’s face scrunched up, mimicking Halim’s.
“You’re not gonna cry, you’re not gonna cry,” she repeated her mantra over in her head, though her eyelids quivered as tear ducts were locked and loaded. A shadow hovered over her as Dhandi looked up.
“Sadira?”
The witch in her modest green and white outfit smiled as she bent down curious.
“Got stuck with baby-sitting duty?” she asked, wiggling her fingers above Halim’s nose. “Man, he’s noisy. I could hear him all the way from home.”
“Jasmine asked me to watch Halim,” Dhandi grabbed Halim as his girth began to slide down her flat chest. “I couldn’t say no, especially when I had to sneak past the guards to get in.”
“Was Aladdin there?” Sadira had a look of interest on her face, very much like a fox gets for an unguarded egg. “He could have vouched for you.”
“He’s on some trip to do ‘sultan business’ over in Getzistan-ow!” Dhandi pulled Halim’s hand away from her hair. Sadira met this witha disappointed frown. “You can imagine how much Jasmine has to do, besides him.”
“So why are you out here when you two should be in there?”
Dhandi scratched her head. “I just-I wanted to get out.”
“You must be crazy or something if you’re splitting the moment you stepped in,” Sadira cocked her head as she looked closer at Dhandi. “Have you even been in the palace before?”
“Actually, a few times,” the girl replied. “I guess I don’t really fit in.” She held out her arms, showing her rather modest dress. “Not exactly a princess.”
“This wouldn’t happen to be because you’re poor,” the twenty-four year old said, “because you’re pretty much in the same boat as everybody else in Agrabah.”
A sly look appeared on Sadira’s face.
“Or maybe because you got some power in you that you need somebody to teach you how to use right.”
“I don’t think Eden would want me to,” Dhandi said, a bit uneasily. Sadira frowned, dejectedly. “I’m sorry. Just a bad experience. I barely remember. It was a couple years ago.”
“If you don’t want to do it,” the sand witch shrugged, her mood lightening, “I’m not gonna force ya. But I want you to have something.”
Sadira pulled out something pink and folded rather messily and handed it Dhandi. The girl unfolded it to its long full length, dropping to her feet. It was a scarf. Its woolen links zigzagged unbalanced and messy, exposing holes and knots.
“I took up knitting,” Sadira beamed. “You like?”
Dumbstruck, Dhandi smiled for a moment before pulling the scarf away from Halim’s grasping hands. The infant promptly screamed, kicking Dhandi’s side.
“Somebody needs a nap,” Sadira cooed, smirking as she picked Halim up. “The baby needs one too.”
Dhandi chuckled as she gathered up her scarf and shoes. “Want to come over for dinner some time?”
“That’s sound good,” Sadira replied, strapping Halim onto Dhandi’s back. “Should I bring something over?”
“Uh, you don’t have to do that,” Dhandi replied, hastily. “Really. Bye!”
Dhandi darted off, the babe bouncing against her back and howling like an injured jackal.
Panting, Dhandi leaned against the well in the back alley, Halim lying next to her. The child grunted as he struggled against his swaddling.
“Got you there,” Dhandi said as she wrapped her scarf around her head, imitating the modesty of Agrabah's older women. As if there was anyone there to be modest for. She held up part of the scarf to her face, giggling.
“Where’s Halli?” she asked, playfully. Halim gurgled, inquisitively. Dhandi pulled it down. “There he is!”
Staring at his sitter, Halim trembled frightened. Dhandi held up the scarf again.
“Where’s Halli? THERE HE IS!”
As if automatically, Halim resumed crying. Dhandi’s body sunk as she hit her head against the well. Her temples were throbbing. Why couldn’t he stop crying?
Suddenly, Dhandi sat back up and turned to the infant prince, smiling evilly. “You might want to stop crying,” she whispered, “or the mamluks are gonna get ya.”
Halim’s crying lessened as he grew curious.
“Once upon a time,” Dhandi began, picking Halim up, “there was once a girl who lived in the city of Para-Moor. She then moved to another city with her genie. It was good for a while, until one day, a sorcerer, old, ugly and evil, came. He came for her, because he wanted to be reborn and he had to have a mother to do it. So, he placed spell on her, so that he can go into her and be born again.”
Halim gurgled, his eyes widening. The alley seemed to be closing in on them as she told the story.
“But, in order for him to be reborn,” Dhandi added, holding her scarf closer to her face and holding up a finger, dramatically, “he had to teach her the spell and, with that, he had to teach her magic.”
Halim was moaning nervously, almost begging her to stop. Something was skittering about unseen tohis sitter.
“And so he taught her everything, even the spell to summon his undead zombies!” She threw up her arms dramatically. Halim screamed, very frightened. Dhandi lowered her hands and sighed.
“It’s just a story,” she said quietly, cradling the nervous infant. “Silly.”
Suddenly, the well resonated. Dhandi spun her head towards it. Holding the shivering babe, she slowly stood up and stared down the well. It was pitch black, the reflection that the water once gave off was gone since the water level shrunk over the years. Dhandi loosened a brick from its mortar and dropped it, a thick spluck echoing once it reached the bottom.
“There’s nothing wrong,” she said reassuringly to her charge. “You babies get worried over not-THING!”
Something had grabbed her wrist and pulled her over the wall of the well. Halim began screaming as Dhandi struggled to hold on to him whilst pulling away from the grip of her assailant, one leg over the wall.
“Let go!” Dhandi pulled, but the green, shriveled hand around her wrist pulled harder. With a shriek, Dhandi found herself and a terrified and screaming Halim tumbling down the darkness, the light above shrinking.