Hearing Saiid’s name, I suddenly shuddered and my eyes flew open.
Mrs Parvin looked at me and said, ‘What is the matter with you? Do you think he doesn’t love you? Don’t worry, this is what makes love sweet.’
She held the glass of tea up to my lips. I grabbed her hand with every ounce of energy I had and half rose.
‘Tell me the truth, is Saiid alive?’
‘What? Of course, he is. Why would you think he is dead?’
‘Because Ahmad…’
‘What about Ahmad?’
‘Ahmad stabbed him with his knife.’
‘Well, yes, but nothing happened to him… Oh… you have been unconscious ever since you saw the bloody knife… So all these nightmares and screams in the middle of the night are because of this? Poor me, my bedroom is on the other side of this wall. I hear you every night. You keep screaming, “No, no.” You shout for Saiid. You probably think Ahmad killed him. Right? Come on, child. Ahmad doesn’t have it in him. Did you think someone can just walk out on the street, kill someone and casually go back home? The country has laws. It’s not as simple as that. No, my dear, rest assured, all he did that night was put a scratch on Saiid’s arm and another one on his face. Then the doctor and the other shop owners intervened. Saiid didn’t even go to the police. He is fine. The next day, I myself saw him in front of the pharmacy.’
After an entire week, I could finally breathe. I closed my eyes and from the bottom of my heart I said, ‘Thank God.’ Then I fell back on the bed, sank my face into the pillow and wept.
It took until the new year holidays in the spring for me to more or less regain my health. My ankle had completely healed, but I was still very thin. I had no news of school and there was no possibility of bringing up the subject. I idled around the house. I couldn’t even leave to go to the public bathhouse. Mother would heat some water and I would bathe at home. I was engulfed in a cold and bitter atmosphere. I didn’t like to talk. Most of the time I was so sad and drowned in my own thoughts that I didn’t know what was going on around me. Mother was very careful not to talk about what had happened. However, she did occasionally slip up and say things that made my heart ache.
Father never looked at me. He acted as though I didn’t exist, and he seldom talked to the others. He was sad and nervous and looked much older. Ahmad and Mahmoud tried as far as possible not to come face to face with me. In the morning, they ate their breakfast in a hurry and quickly left the house. At night, Ahmad came home later and more boozed up than ever before and went straight to bed. Mahmoud would quickly eat something and leave to go to the mosque or went up to his room and spent much of the night praying. I was happy not to see them. But Ali was a constant nuisance. He harassed me relentlessly and sometimes said vulgar things to me. Mother often scolded him, but I tried to ignore him.
Faati was the only person whose company I looked forward to and the only welcome presence in the house. Every day when she came back from school, she would come and kiss me and look at me with a strange compassion. Whatever she ate, she brought some of it for me and insisted that I take it. Sometimes she even saved her money and bought chocolate for me. She was still afraid that I was going to die.
I knew going back to school was now an impossible dream. But I was hoping that after the new year they would at least let me take sewing classes. Although I didn’t like sewing at all, it was my only hope for gaining a little freedom and stepping outside those four walls. I missed Parvaneh terribly. I didn’t know whether I was more desperate to see her or Saiid. It was strange. Despite everything I had gone through, all the pain and humiliation, and all the vile and ugly reflections on my relationship with Saiid, I didn’t regret what had come to pass between us. Not only did I not feel guilty, but the purest and most honest emotion in my heart was the love I harboured for him.
Over time, Mrs Parvin told me how events surrounding me had escalated and how it had all affected Parvaneh’s family. The night I collapsed, or the following night, Ahmad had gone to their house completely drunk and started cussing and cursing. He told Parvaneh’s father, ‘Wear your hat a little higher on your head. Your daughter is fast and loose and she was about to lead our girl astray, too.’ And he had added a thousand other ugly words, the thought of which made me break into a sweat. How could I ever look Parvaneh and her parents in the face again? How could he say such hateful things to a respectable man?
Having no news of Saiid was driving me mad. Finally, I begged Mrs Parvin to stop by the pharmacy and find out about him. Despite being intimidated by Ahmad, she was always itching for an escapade. I never imagined that one day she would be my confidante. I still didn’t like her, but I had no other resources. She was my only connection to the outside world, and to my great surprise, no one in the family objected to her spending time with me.
The next day, Mrs Parvin came to see me. Mother was in the kitchen. Anxious and excited, I asked, ‘What news do you have? Did you go there?’
‘Yes, I did,’ she said. ‘I bought a few things and then I asked the doctor why Saiid wasn’t there. He said, “Saiid moved back to his home town. This was no place for him any more. The poor guy had no reputation and respect left and his safety wasn’t guaranteed. I told him, What if someone pulls a knife on you in the dark and does you in? His youth would have been wasted. And they weren’t going to let him marry the girl anyway… with that crazy brother! So, for now, he has dropped out of university and gone back to his family in Rezaieh.”’
Tears were streaming down my face.
‘Enough!’ Mrs Parvin scolded. ‘Don’t start again. Remember, you thought he was dead. You should be thanking God that he’s alive. Wait a little. Once the whole incident blows over, he will probably get in touch with you. Although I think it would be better if you forget all about him. They won’t give you to him. I mean, there’s no way Ahmad would agree… unless you manage to convince your father. In any case, we have to wait and see if he shows up.’
The only joy of the new year holidays was that twice they took me out of the house. Once to go to the public bathhouse for the traditional new year’s eve bath, during which I didn’t see a single soul because they made sure our appointment was very early in the morning, and the second time to visit Uncle Abbas to wish him a happy new year. The weather was still cold. That year spring was late arriving, but the air was filled with the fresh scent of a new year. Being outside the house was so pleasant. The air seemed cleaner and brighter. It was easier to breathe.
Uncle’s wife was not on good terms with Mother, and his daughters didn’t get along with us. Soraya, Uncle’s eldest daughter, said, ‘Massoumeh, you’ve grown taller.’
Uncle’s wife jumped in and said, ‘But she’s thinner. To be honest, I was afraid she had some sort of illness.’
‘Absolutely not!’ Soraya argued. ‘It’s because she has been studying too hard. Massoumeh, Father says you study a lot and are the top student in your class.’
I looked down. I didn’t know what to say. Mother came to my rescue. ‘She broke her leg. That’s why she has lost so much weight. After all, none of you ever enquire about anyone’s well-being.’
‘As a matter of fact, Father and I wanted to come visit you,’ Soraya said. ‘But Uncle said he wasn’t feeling well and didn’t want anyone coming to the house. Massoumeh, how did you break your leg?’
‘I slipped on ice,’ I said quietly.
To change the subject, Mother turned to Uncle’s wife and said, ‘Miss Soraya has her diploma now. Why don’t you find a husband for her?’
‘Well, she has to study and go to university. It’s too soon.’
‘Too soon! Nonsense. As a matter of fact, it’s getting too late. I guess now you can’t find a decent husband any more.’
‘Actually, there are many good candidates around,’ Uncle’s wife said defiantly. ‘But a girl like Soraya doesn’t take a fancy to just anyone. In my family everyone is educated: men and women. We’re different from people who come from the p
rovinces. Soraya wants to study and become a doctor, like my sister’s daughters.’
It was impossible for our family visits to end without tension and snide remarks. With her petulance and sharp tongue, Mother always alienated everyone. It wasn’t for no reason that Father’s sister used to say Mother has a razor for a tongue. I always wanted to build a closer relationship with my relatives, but these deeply rooted animosities made it impossible.
The new year holidays passed and I was still at home. Discreet whispers and hints about my taking sewing classes reaped no result. Ahmad and Mahmoud would not allow me to leave the house under any circumstances. And Father didn’t intervene. To him, I was dead.
I was often bored. After finishing the daily household chores, I would go upstairs to the living room and watch the section of the street that was visible from the window. This partial view was my only connection to the outside world. And even that, I had to keep secret. If my brothers found out, they would probably brick up the window. My one dream was to see Parvaneh or Saiid out there on the street.
By then I knew that the only way I could ever leave that house was as someone’s wife. In fact, this was the single solution to the dilemma that everyone had voted on and ratified. I hated every corner of that house, but I didn’t want to betray my dear Saiid by throwing myself from one prison into another. I wanted to wait for him until the end of my life, even if they were to drag me to the gallows.
A family expressed interest in asking for my hand in marriage. Three women and a man were coming to visit. Mother got busy, diligently cleaning and arranging the house. Mahmoud bought a set of sofas with red upholstery. Ahmad bought fruits and pastries. Their unprecedented cooperation was strange. Like drowning people clinging to a piece of driftwood, they were willing to do anything not to lose the suitor. And once I saw the potential groom, I realised he was indeed nothing but driftwood. He was a heavyset man with no hair on the crown of his head, about thirty years old, and he slurped while eating fruit. He worked with Mahmoud in the bazaar. Fortunately, he and the three women who had accompanied him were looking for a plump and fleshy wife and didn’t take a liking to me. That night I went to sleep happy and peaceful. The next morning, Mother told Mrs Parvin all about the event, in great detail and with much embellishment. Her deep disappointment over the end result made me want to laugh.
‘What a shame,’ she said. ‘This poor girl has no luck. He is not only rich, but comes from a good family, too. What’s more, he is young and hasn’t been married before.’ (It was funny, the man was twice my age, but from Mother’s viewpoint he was young… and with that bald head and big paunch!) ‘Of course, Mrs Parvin, between you and me, the man was right in his decision. The girl is too scrawny. The man’s mother said, “Madam, your daughter needs medical attention.” If I’m not wrong, that imp had done something to look even sicklier.’
‘Oh, my dear, the way you talk it’s as if he was a young man of twenty,’ Mrs Parvin argued. ‘I saw them out on the street. It’s all the better that they didn’t take a fancy to her. Massoumeh is too good for you to hand her over to that big-bellied midget.’
‘What can I say? We had big dreams for the girl. Forget about me, her father used to say Massoumeh has to marry a man who’s a somebody. But after all that disgrace, who’s going to come for her? She will either have to marry beneath her or become a second wife.’
‘Nonsense! Let things simmer down. People will forget.’
‘What will they forget? People investigate, they ask around. The sister and mother of a decent and proper man will never let him marry my ill-fated girl whose mess is known to the entire neighbourhood.’
‘Wait,’ Mrs Parvin counselled. ‘They will forget. Why are you in such a hurry?’
‘It’s her brothers. They say as long as she is in this house they have no peace of mind and can’t hold their heads up in public. People won’t forget… not for a hundred years. And Mahmoud wants to get married, but he says he can’t do so as long as this girl is still here. He says he doesn’t trust her. He’s afraid she will lead his wife astray, too.’
‘What drivel!’ Mrs Parvin said dismissively. ‘This poor thing is as innocent as a child. And what happened wasn’t all that serious. All beautiful girls her age have boys falling in love with them. You can’t burn them all at the stake because some guy fancied them… Besides, it wasn’t her fault.’
‘Yes, I know my daughter well. She may not be all that diligent with her prayers and fasting, but her heart is with God. The day before yesterday she said, “I dream of going on a pilgrimage to the shrine of Imam Abdolazim in Qum.” Back then, she used to pray at the shrine of Her Holiness Massoumeh every week. You won’t believe how she prayed. That wretched girl, Parvaneh, is the one to blame for all this. Otherwise, my daughter involved in such things? Never!’
‘But wait a little longer. Perhaps the guy will come and marry her and everything will end well. He wasn’t a bad boy and they want each other. Everyone speaks highly of him. And soon he’s going to be a doctor.’
‘What are you talking about, Mrs Parvin?’ Mother said irately. ‘Her brothers say they will give her to Azrael, the angel of death, before they give her to him. And it’s not as if he’s breaking down our door to come for her. Whatever God wants will happen. Everyone’s fate and destiny is written on their forehead from the very first day, and their share has been set aside.’
‘Then don’t rush into anything. Let fate do its work.’
‘But her brothers say they will have to bear the scar of her shame until she gets married and they are no longer responsible for her. How long do you think they can keep her locked up in the house? They’re afraid their father will take pity on her and give in.’
‘Well, the poor thing does deserve some pity. She’s very beautiful. Wait until she is healthy again. You’ll see what kind of men will come for her.’
‘I swear to God, I cook rice and chicken for her every day. Lamb shank soup, porridge made with wheat and meat. I send Ali out to buy sheep’s head and trotters soup for her breakfast. All in the hope that she will gain some weight and not look so sickly so that a decent man can take a liking to her.’
I remembered a fairy tale from my childhood. A monster kidnapped a child. But the child was too thin for the monster to eat. Instead he locked her up and brought her plenty of good food so that she would quickly get fat and become a delectable meal. Now my family wanted to fatten me up and throw me to a monster.
I was put up for sale. Hosting people who came to see me as a potential wife became the only serious event in our house. My brothers and Mother had spread the word that they were searching for a husband for me, and all sorts of people came. Some were so unsuitable that even Ahmad and Mahmoud decided against them. Every night, I prayed for Saiid to show up, and at least once a week I begged Mrs Parvin to go to the pharmacy to see if there was any news of him. The doctor told her Saiid had written to him only once and that the letter the doctor had sent in response had been returned. Apparently the address was wrong. Saiid had melted and vanished in the ground. At night I would sometimes go to the living room to pray and commune with God, and then I would stand at the window and watch the shadows moving along the street. A few times I saw a familiar shadow under the arch of the house across the street, but as soon as I opened the window it disappeared.
The only dream that ushered me to bed at night and made me forget the pain and suffering of my tedious days was that of a life with Saiid. In my mind, I would sketch our small and beautiful house, its furnishings and the decorations in every room. It was my small heaven. I imagined our children, beautiful, healthy and happy. In my dreams I was in eternal love and bliss. Saiid was a model husband. A gentle man, mild-mannered and kind, sensible and intelligent, he never fought with me, he never belittled me. Oh, how I loved him. Has any woman ever loved a man the way I loved Saiid? If only we could live in our fantasies.
In early June, as soon as the final school exams were over, Parvaneh’s famil
y moved away from our neighbourhood. I knew they were planning on it, but I didn’t think they would leave so soon. Later, I learned that they actually wanted to go sooner, but had decided to wait for the school year to end. For a while, Parvaneh’s father had been commenting that the neighbourhood was no longer a good area to live in. He was right. It was good only for the likes of my brothers.
It was a hot morning. I was sweeping the room and I still had not pulled down the wicker blinds when I heard Parvaneh’s voice. I ran into the yard. Faati was at the front door. Parvaneh had come to say goodbye. Mother got to the door ahead of me and held it half closed. Then she snatched the envelope Parvaneh had given to Faati, gave it back to her and said, ‘Go quickly. Go before her brothers see you and cause another scandal. And don’t bring anything here any more.’
With a lump in her throat Parvaneh said, ‘But ma’am, I only wrote to say goodbye and to give her our new address. You can read it.’
The Book of Fate Page 8