“He’s trying to build up a wall,” the woman complained. “Yes, it’s his property, I’m not arguing the legality of it—but it is the fastest path for me to get to the town square. To do this now, at my old age? It’s downright cruel, my prince.”
“Wouldn’t need to put up a fence if your goats didn’t chew up my gardens,” the man snapped. “I should be charging you to put up the fence!”
“There are no other ways to stop the goats besides putting up a fence?” Aladdin asked.
“I tried roping them in,” the woman said. “But they chewed right through the ropes. Had a metal enclosure for them, but they managed to break that down as well.”
“That’s why I got the sturdy kind of fence coming up now,” the man said, nodding.
“But they’re just sweet little babes. If they eat a vegetable now and then, what’s the harm? How many cheeses have I given you over the years out of neighborly affection? That fence is going to add an extra twenty minutes to my trips into town. You know how my knees ache.”
Aladdin turned to Jasmine. “Any ideas?” he asked her.
“Me?” Jasmine looked startled for a second. “Is it okay for me to intrude?”
“Intrude? I welcome your wisdom, Princess.”
Jasmine thought for a moment and then turned to the people.
“I understand the predicament,” she said. “Nothing is stopping those goats, and a fence may be the only way. Your neighbor is entitled to not have his hard work eaten.”
“See?” The man glared at the woman.
“But it’s also unfortunate this means she’ll have to walk so far to get to town,” Jasmine continued. “It was so nice of you to allow her to pass through your property all these years.”
“I wish I didn’t have to do this.” The man’s expression softened. “But the goats can’t be stopped any other way.”
“Perhaps a gate?” Jasmine asked. “Once the fence is up, a gate could help her come to and from while keeping your land secure.”
“I had thought about that,” the man said. “But that would cost far more money than I can manage. Putting the fence up is difficult enough.”
“Perhaps you can pay for the cost of the gate?” Aladdin suggested to the woman. “May be worth it.”
“I suppose that’s fair,” the woman said grudgingly.
“I’ll ask the workers about adding one once I get back,” the man said. Both walked away satisfied.
“You doing all right?” Aladdin asked Jasmine after the thirty-eighth query. The line was moving steadily, but it had been a while. “You can always take a break or go rest in one of the guest suites while I finish up.”
“And miss all of this?” Jasmine exclaimed. “I’m going to tell my father all about how well it’s all working here in Ababwa when I get back. We need to have meetings like this with our own subjects back home.”
“But you’ve never been to Ababwa, right?” Aladdin winked.
“Oh. That’s right…” Jasmine said. Her smile faded a bit.
“I was only teasing,” Aladdin said quickly.
“No, it’s just that you are right. I can’t tell him about any of this. It’s awful how much I can’t share with him.” She sighed. “But I can still tell him about this idea. Even if I can’t tell him how I know it would work so well.”
Aladdin flushed at the praise. It felt good to know that because of the time they’d spent together, Jasmine might be able to encourage her father to implement something similar in Agrabah. This trip could possibly lead to real change back home. Agrabah would benefit from its subjects being heard. That much was certain.
A woman approached the podium next. A small boy was draped across her like a blanket, his arms limp at his sides, his head burrowed in the crook of her neck. Aladdin understood before she spoke why this woman had come.
“My name is Maha.” The woman trembled. “This is my son, Usman. I’m not even sure why I’m here for a matter that advice cannot possibly fix, but”—her eyes welled with tears—“if there was even a small chance something could be done to help my child, I had to try.”
“I understand it’s hard to ask for help,” Aladdin said gently. “Please tell us. What is the nature of your son’s illness?”
“Fevers. He gets high fevers that leave him unable to do anything at all. Even sips of water require effort.”
“Do you need money for a doctor?” Aladdin reached for his coin purse. He thought of Jasmine’s idea for a clinic.
“We’ve taken him to many different doctors. Nothing can be done. He had these fevers as a baby, but they went away. Now, with the weather so warm of late, the illness returned. We put cool washcloths on him, keep him in the shade—nothing helps. And when he’s feverish he won’t eat, and when he won’t eat he can’t function, and then…well, what will become of my boy?” She let out a sob. “My husband and I are awning makers. It’s our livelihood, but we can’t work while he’s so sick. People say they understand the delays, but they will lose their patience soon enough. And less money from the work being done means less resources for us to feed our family. It’s…difficult.”
“I understand,” Aladdin said. He knew all too well how quickly an illness could leave a family destitute. But what on earth could he say to this woman to help her?
“I’m sorry about your son,” Jasmine said. “Have you spoken with the local apothecary? Someone had come earlier and mentioned that they are a bit pricey, but good at finding cures.”
“They tried many different concoctions, but none of them work. The local herbalist tried as well.” She paused. “I’m sorry for wasting your time. No one can help me. I suppose I just felt desperate.” She turned to leave.
“Wait,” Aladdin called out. “Maha, don’t leave yet. Just give me a moment. I want to help you.”
But how?
Maha stood to the side as another woman marched up to the podium. Her hair flowed dark against her shoulders, on her arm dangled a gilded cage filled with the most unusual bees. They were the size of a clenched fist, their gold-and-black bodies shimmering as though they had been dipped in glitter when they fluttered back and forth.
“They’re moving very slowly,” Jasmine observed.
“Yes, Princess, they are,” the woman responded. Indeed, it was true. While they were lovely to behold, Aladdin didn’t need to ask why the woman was here. Even from where he was sitting he could see the bees were not well. They spun about in circles as though dizzy, crashing into one another. “My name is Zaria, and I came here because my bees are dying. They need your help.”
