I shake my head and then watch as my mother’s face goes white as chalk. She thought by marrying me into the Asher family she would secure my father’s job for life. It never occurred to her that she could endanger it.
“Good,” he says. “Now, can we please continue with dinner?”
I get up from my seat. I pick Mother’s silverware up off the floor. I walk to the kitchen to get her more. The room spins around me as I realize that this is actually happening; there’s no way out of it. I’m going to have to spend my life as Mrs. Damon Asher.
I SPEND SATURDAY IN BED, SULLEN AND ILL-tempered. Because of my back, my parents leave me alone. But the next morning, I’m forced to get dressed and go to Sunday service.
We walk to the prayer center at Lincoln Center, Father’s favorite. Saying goodbye, Father leaves to worship with the men outside, near the fountain, while Mother rushes me to our building. I know why she’s in such a hurry—she wants time before prayers to tell everyone that I’m under contract. I drag my feet, dreading the attention the news will bring.
We enter the women’s center, which juts out over the street like a pointy elbow. The outside is all angles and glass, but once you’re inside, it’s all warm, curvy wood, like being at the center of an almond. There are hundreds and hundreds of seats and a stage with a speaker, which pipes in the prayers of the Herald outside. We remove our veils here, so Heralds aren’t allowed inside.
To my surprise, after we wash our hands and faces, Mother leads us to two seats at the back of the room. I expected her to search out her friends immediately, but she sits down, pulls out her prayer beads, and clasps her hands together piously.
I’m relieved, until I see Auntie Sersa marching our way. Auntie Purga and Auntie Kilya are right behind her.
“Mina!” Purga says. “Thank the Prophet you’re okay!” Reaching me, she throws her arms around me, causing me to flinch. She and the other sisters were still in the kitchen when my “accident” occurred, but I’m sure their husbands told them everything.
“We’ve been worried sick,” Kilya says.
Mother doesn’t acknowledge their arrival, continuing to look down.
Touching my hand, Sersa says, “How horrible for you, dear. Revealed in such a humiliating way.” As she says this, she looks not at me but at Mother. She’s obviously delighted at my mother’s social debacle.
“We’ve prayed that the Offering wasn’t a total failure,” says Kilya. “Perhaps some of the suitors left before the unspeakable incident occurred?”
I wait for Mother to speak, to tell them smugly of the offer from the Ashers. But she says nothing.
Kilya says, “Don’t be sad. The Prophet has a plan for each of us.”
Mother says softly, “I am thanking God and the Prophet for sparing Mina from the flames, and you are interrupting.”
The aunties are taken aback, but they can’t possibly be as astonished as I am.
I can’t believe she’s going to let them revel in her failure, in my failure. They’ll tell everyone at today’s service how I was exposed in front of all those men. The Clark name will become a laughingstock. I open my mouth, ready to announce that I am under contract to Damon Asher, but Mother’s hand reaches out, gripping my knee in warning.
Obviously disappointed that Mother won’t engage, Sersa says, “Peace and health to your family.” She then signals for the other two to follow her.
As soon as they’re out of earshot, I say, “Why didn’t you tell them?”
“Because I wanted to say a prayer for my beautiful daughter,” Mother says, pushing a few stray hairs out of my face. I pull back from her, out of habit, and she stops.
She glances toward the aunties, and I follow her gaze. Sersa is whispering to a woman who lives on the second floor of our building. The woman whispers something to Sersa, whose eyes soon look like they might pop out of her head.
Sersa gapes at Mother and me.
Mother’s head goes back down in prayer, but after a few seconds, I see a tiny smile pull at the edge of her lips.
She didn’t tell her sisters about the Ashers because she knew that somebody else would. Her satisfaction would be greater if she got to watch the aunties hear it from other people, because then they couldn’t be suspicious or accuse her of bragging. Mother probably spent all of yesterday telling everyone in our building about the contract. She knew word would spread quickly.
I should have known that Mother could never be humble. But can I condemn her for the sin of pride? I’d been thinking myself how good it would feel to tell the aunties about Damon. There’s something about Sersa—she makes you feel like you have to prove yourself constantly. Having her as a sister can’t be easy. Today, Mother was two steps ahead of everyone, and I imagine that was how she had to be throughout her entire childhood.
The Herald begins the service, and so we stand and join hands. Mother’s prayer is extra fervent today.
AFTER THE SERVICE, FATHER IS PLEASANTLY surprised by Mother’s giddy mood. She doesn’t complain or criticize either of us the whole walk home. She’s in such a good mood that I decide to ask her about visiting Nana. Her answer gives me hope: “When your back is fully healed, perhaps we can go see her.” I would much rather go alone, and seeing my mother is hardly the thing Nana needs to make her feel better, but I’ll take whatever I can get.
When we get home, I go straight to my room and remove my cloak and veil. I’m wondering if Sekena is home from Sunday service yet, when I hear a knock on our front door.
My mother answers, and I can tell from the trill in her voice that she’s happy with the visitor. It must be someone more important than Sekena. Then I hear the voice of the guest and my heart stops.
It’s Juda.
I tiptoe out of my room so I can stand at the top of the stairs, just out of sight. Juda greets Father.
“Good morning, Mr. Clark,” Juda says. “I have a delivery from Mr. Asher.”
“Of course,” Father answers. “If you’ll wait a moment, I’ll have an answer for you.”
It must be the second marriage proposal. It will be a higher offer, and my father will refuse a second time, as custom demands. I’m a leg of lamb, haggled over at the market.
Slowly peeking around the corner, I see Juda standing at attention, at the entrance to Father’s office. My mother must have gone in with my father to see what the new offer is.
Juda’s eyes suddenly flick up to meet mine. His body goes tense. This is the second time he’s seen me without my cloak. But this time my mother hasn’t made me into a tramp. This time I’m wearing a T-shirt and cotton pants and my hair is in its usual ponytail. This time it’s actually me.
I smile, making a tiny waving motion with my hand, and then immediately feel idiotic. Maybe he’s appalled at my immodesty.
But he smiles back, and I’m relieved. I’m thinking of what to do next, when my parents come out of the office. I dart back out of sight.
“You can give this to Mr. Asher with our blessing,” says my father.
“Thank you, sir. Peace.”
“Peace.”
“Zai,” says my mother.
“What?”
“Give the boy something for his trouble!”
“Oh, yes, of course.”
“No, thank you, sir. I volunteered to be the go-between,” says Juda.
“That was generous of you,” my father says.
“I’ve been with the Asher family a long time. I have a personal interest in Damon’s marriage to Miss Clark.”
What does that mean? He wants it all to go smoothly? He wants to make sure the Ashers don’t overpay? He wants to make sure I’m good enough for Damon?
I stomp back to my bedroom and slam the door, hoping Juda can hear. What a dirt-eater. Why did he smile back? Here I was, thinking he cared for me, and he was just looking after the interests of the family he works for. I should have known. Nyek.
I spend the rest of the day thinking about what he said, and it irritates me more
and more. Why did he volunteer to come to our apartment? All he’d have to do would be to tell Damon that I spoke to him in the market and let him touch my hand, and that would be it. The marriage would be off. So is he just coming here to taunt me?
Determined to find out what’s going on, I start to scheme. There’s going to be a third proposal, and this is the one that my father is supposed to accept. Juda will most likely deliver it, so it will be my only chance to speak to him. But my parents will be in the apartment the whole time, so how can I get him alone?
MONDAY PASSES, AND THEN TUESDAY, AND I can’t believe we haven’t heard anything. Is there a chance there won’t be a third proposal? Maybe the Ashers didn’t like Father’s second counteroffer, or maybe Juda decided to inform on me after all. I can’t believe I want the contract to speed up. As soon as it’s signed, it’s only a matter of weeks before the wedding will occur. But I’ve become fixated on talking to Juda, and I’ve come up with a plan I think will work.
My mother is antsy, too, and she fills the time by teaching me recipes I already know, wanting me to master the dishes before I become a married woman. I try to pay attention, but I’m distracted. Mother notices, but she thinks it’s about wedding-night nerves.
She says, “The first night is bad. But after that, if you make friends with Damon, it can get better. You must pray and think about the sons he’ll give you.”
I smile and nod, hoping she won’t bring it up again.
I’ve already talked about all that with Nana. After I started my menses, all the aunties came over for the celebration and started to talk about what it meant to “be a woman.” A few of them had married men twice their age, total strangers for whom they felt no attraction. They sat around and told horror stories of their wedding nights. Then they laughed and expected me to feel comforted!
I was terrified, and that afternoon, I ran crying to Nana. She held my head in her lap and stroked my hair and let me cry my eyes out. When I’d finished, she held my chin in her hand and said, “Listen to me. Never cry about this again. The man who becomes your husband will have power over your body, but he will never have power over your mind, unless you let him. Understand?”
I thought I did understand, until I met Juda. I feel so crazy today that I’m starting to feel like he does have power over my mind. So does that mean Nana would disapprove of him? I’m confused.
I want nothing more than to see her and discuss everything that’s happened in the last week, but Mother insists that the burn on my back needs more time. My singed skin does still hurt and forces me to sleep on my stomach. A hot shower is torture. But I would never admit these things to Mother. She wants to keep me away from Nana, but I think she’s also happy to keep me close, where I can’t break any rules that might threaten my engagement.
Juda finally returns Wednesday morning.
Hearing the knock on the door, I race to my room, surprised by the early hour of his visit. He must be trying to catch Father before he leaves for work. I throw on a cloak and my veil, preparing myself, then creep into the hall, close enough to hear but not near enough to be spotted.
There’s no noise, so I’ve missed the greetings. Mother and Father must be in the office. I very slowly peek around the corner, and, sure enough, Juda is standing outside the office door. He’s looking straight at me, as if he were waiting for me to appear. He smiles but then makes a confused face, but it’s lighthearted.
I guess it’s because of the cloak. He’s wondering why I have it on. I smile, but he can’t tell because of my veil.
I lift my hand, daring another little wave. He moves his hand a tiny bit; mostly it’s his fingers, but I can see he’s waving back. Then I move back out of view. It’s important my parents don’t see me.
A minute passes, and then Mother comes out of the office, loud and excited. “This is tremendous! Such a wonderful day!”
I hear Father say, “Yes, yes. It’s all worked out rather well.”
Juda says, “So it’s all moving forward, sir?” His voice sounds funny.
Too excited to let her husband answer first, Mother says, “Yes. Yes! It’s all signed. Take it to Mr. Asher immediately! Don’t delay!”
“Of course, ma’am. Congratulations.” If Juda is shocked by Mother’s lack of deference, he isn’t letting on.
“Peace,” Father says.
“Peace,” Juda responds.
“Peace!” Mother says.
And then I hear the front door open and close.
I count to ten, which feels like a hundred, and then I walk down the stairs to the living room.
Mother says, “Mina, congratulations! Your father has signed the marriage contract!”
“This is a very big day for me,” I say, trying not to overact my part. “I’d like to go discuss this life change with Sekena.” I head for the front door.
Looking smug, Mother says, “I’m glad you finally came to your senses.”
“The Husks will be quite excited,” I add. I open the door.
“Wait!” Mother says, and I know I’ve failed. “Come here.”
“Yes?” I ask, shutting the door and walking to her. All this waiting and planning, for nothing.
She inhales deeply, and I can see I’m about to get a lecture. Was I so obvious? Or maybe something about Juda gave my feelings away?
“It’s not appropriate,” she says, “for you to go bragging to Sekena about your successful match. The poor girl won’t do half as well as you, and you’ll just make her feel bad.”
“Of course, Mother.”
“You can tell her you’re under contract. Just be humble and grateful, and don’t discuss BTUs. It’s in poor taste.”
“Yes, Mother.”
She crosses the room and opens the door for me. I smile under my veil.
“Don’t be long,” she says.
I nod. I can’t believe it worked!
The door closes behind me, and instead of turning left, toward Sekena’s apartment, I turn right and run down the hall. For the first time in my life, I praise God for our useless elevator. I throw open the door to the stairs and look down into the stairwell. I yell, “Juda!” and then start running down.
Soon I hear, “Mina?” echoing back up toward me, and my heart leaps. He’s still here!
I run four flights, wondering how far he might have gotten, and then I almost barrel into him on the third-floor landing.
He’s standing there, shocked. “What are you doing? Are you crazy?”
As I catch my breath, I say, “I said I was going to the neighbors’. It’s fine.” I might be overstating things. “I’ve got a few minutes.”
“You’re insane!” he says, hissing in a low voice.
I pull my veil up over my head, because he’s already seen my face plenty of times and I want a clear view of him. “What did you mean the other day when you said you had ‘a personal interest in Damon’s marriage’?” The question sounds angrier than I wanted.
“Isn’t it obvious?” he says.
I cross my arms in front of me. “I guess you wanted to make sure he was getting a good deal on his bride.”
Juda throws up his hands. He turns away from me, and I flinch when he slaps the wall next to him. “You’ve got to be the strangest girl I’ve ever met. If you’re so sure that I’m on Damon’s side, what are you doing here right now?”
I open my mouth to speak but realize I don’t have an answer for him.
He keeps talking. “Did you go to the market that day when we were supposed to meet?”
“No, I couldn’t. I—”
“Of course you couldn’t! You were injured. But I still went!”
“You did?”
“Yes, because I’m an idiot. I knew it was a waste of time. I knew you wouldn’t be there. But when I thought about the tiny chance that you might show up, and then me not being there . . . it didn’t feel right. So I went. And then I stood there, lurking like a moron, for forty-five minutes.”
Is it possible fo
r a heart to rise up in joy and sink in disappointment at the same time? He was there. We could have had an afternoon together. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For going.” I smile, and he looks relieved.
His voice becomes gentler. “Are you okay? How’s your back?”
“Much better.”
“What a horrible accident. I wish I could’ve done something to prevent it.”
I’m relieved he thinks it was an accident. What would he think of my family if he knew my own brother threw a candle on me? “Yes, it was horrible.”
“Mina, I did volunteer to deliver the contract. But it wasn’t to look after Damon.” He looks chagrined. “I was trying to look after you.”
“What? How?”
“I guess I thought . . . I don’t know, maybe I could find a reason to invalidate the contract. Or I could find something wrong with you or your family that I could take back to Damon. God knows I would have thrown the contract down the gutter if I’d thought it would help.”
“You could’ve said that we spoke in the market. That would’ve been enough.”
“Yeah, that would save you from Damon, but it would ruin you, your family, your reputation . . .”
He’s right. My name would be destroyed. I would be unmarriable.
His face conveys his misery. “Out of all the men you could marry . . .”
“It was my mother. She—”
“I know. It’s just that Damon is . . .” He looks at me like I’m a dog about to be put down.
“What?”
“Don’t trust him. Ever.”
“He’s going to be my husband, Juda. Forever is a long time.”
He looks down and shakes his head. “It’s not right. It’s just not right.”
“It just is.” I’ve been so despondent about this marriage, completely convinced that it’s the worst thing that could happen to me—but looking at Juda and at his big green eyes, I don’t want to say anything that would bring him pain. I could never tell him how terrified or unhappy I am. What good would it do?
Time Zero Page 8