A Door between Us

by Ehsaneh Sadr

  Sarah considered Ali’s question as she chewed her food.

  “Well, I only saw her for a moment, and she was all the way across the street. But . . . I remember her face. And her eyes were so unusually light. It was definitely her. I just can’t imagine what Sadegh would be doing there.”

  Ali cocked his head as if to chide her for not catching on. “I think it’s actually pretty clear. She was probably working with your cousin that night to get me arrested.”

  Sarah was confused. “How could that be possible? She was one of the protesters. I was the one who invited her into our car.”

  “I don’t know, Sarah. Maybe she stopped right in front of our car knowing we would try to help her. Maybe they paid her off afterward in return for her testimony. All I know is that my arrest was no accident. It was a trap to get at my sister and her husband through me.”

  “Ali, that doesn’t make sense,” Sarah protested. “Why wouldn’t they just have gone after your sister directly? And how are you making all of these connections just because Sadegh was with this woman? Maybe it has nothing to do with that night.”

  “It has everything to do with it!” Ali cried. “Sarah, remember the man that left the same building just before I said goodbye? That man . . . he was one of the people that took me in. He was in charge of them, actually, and he was . . . a terror. He never laid a finger on me, but I saw him do some things that . . .”

  Ali shook his head and took a deep breath before continuing. “Anyway, if it had been just Sadegh and that girl, okay, it might have been a coincidence. But how do you explain three people from that night coming together again. That building must be an undercover station for the Basij. They use residential buildings so no one can guess where their stations are. And I’m starting to think they actually wanted us to see them.”

  “What?”

  Ali’s voice quavered. “They want me to know they’re watching me. God! What am I going to do?”

  Sarah was shocked to see Ali cover his face with his thick fingers and begin shaking with what looked like sobs. She’d never seen her father cry and felt a bit embarrassed for Ali. She reached tentatively across the table to pat his arm.

  “Don’t cry. Nothing has happened. It’s okay,” she tried to comfort him.

  Ali grabbed her hand and squeezed hard as he continued to cry. After a moment, he took a few deep breaths, calmed himself, and wiped at his eyes. He raised her hand to press it against his scratchy cheek and then smiled sheepishly.

  “I’m sorry,” he apologized. “I’ve been under so much pressure.”

  “I know,” Sarah reassured him. But her mind was on the feel of his breath on the back of her hand. “Prison must have been awful.”

  “No. I mean, yes, prison was . . . worse than you can imagine. But that’s not what’s upsetting me. Sarah, I need to tell you something. I haven’t told anyone, and you can’t tell anyone. I know we haven’t settled everything between us, but I know I can trust you. And I need your advice.”

  “What is it?” Sarah asked.

  Ali brought his hands down to the table, but held on to Sarah’s. He opened her fingers and traced circles on her like he’d done in the car on their wedding night.

  “I’ve been telling them about my sister,” he said.

  Sarah was distracted by the feel of Ali’s fingers but managed to ask, “What? Who do you mean? What are you telling them?”

  “I don’t know who it is. Every few weeks they call and ask questions. The thing is, as part of my release, I agreed to give them information about her. They said they just wanted to know things like her daily schedule or whatever.”

  “They want you to spy on her?”

  Ali stopped tracing circles and looked at her.

  “See . . .” He paused and swallowed. “I didn’t think of it as spying. They made it sound like I would just be helping them confirm that Azar and her husband aren’t really up to anything. And I was so sure about Azar that I figured this was a good way for me to get out and help clear her name in the process and that they would get bored with us soon and it would end. But now . . . I don’t know what’s going on. They’re asking questions about a ‘Foundation’ I don’t know anything about. And, well, Azar has changed too. Or maybe I’m noticing for the first time. I never would have thought it . . . My sister always cared about women and their rights. But I thought the goal was to fix the system, not to work with foreigners to overthrow it. And now . . . I don’t know. She’s been banned from working, and yet she always seems to be leaving the boys with my parents to go into her office. What is she doing there?”

  “You think she’s involved with the fitneh to overthrow the government?” Sarah asked. “But what’s the point? No one even goes to their demonstrations anymore. The best they can do is show up at government events and have a few people shout the wrong slogans.” Sarah was referring, among other things, to the Jerusalem Day event of a few weeks earlier. Every year, people poured into the streets for a government-sponsored demonstration of the country’s commitment to the Palestinian people. This year, the few remaining Green Wave supporters had used the opportunity to gather and shout tired slogans such as “Where’s my vote?”

  “I don’t know for sure what she’s doing. But, if she’s involved in some sort of plotting, well, I’m so angry with her and Ibrahim. How dare they jeopardize their family and endanger our lives and livelihoods? What about their boys? What about me and my parents? Just between us . . . when I took over my father’s company it was a mess. You wouldn’t believe it. I couldn’t believe it myself. But we were close to bankruptcy. Over the past five years, I’ve built the company so we have contracts with some of the biggest Chinese manufacturers. And it can all go up in smoke within twenty-four hours if we anger the wrong people. Already, business has been affected by my imprisonment. But none of that matters to Azar. For her, it’s all about democracy and women’s rights, and I admire that, but what good is it if your family goes hungry?”

  “Have you told her?” Sarah asked.

  “Told her that these people are asking about her? No!” Ali looked at Sarah as if he couldn’t believe she was asking the question, but he also looked as if he’d asked himself many times if he should do just that.

  “I mean,” Sarah clarified, “have you tried to get her to stop some of what she’s involved with?”

  “Oh, yes, of course,” Ali said, nodding. “Well . . . ,” He reconsidered, “not directly. But we do talk about politics, and she knows how I feel about it. It’s not worth bringing up again. She’s . . . well, you know they took her in too. She’s out now, alhamdulillah, but they’ve got Ibrahim, her husband.”

  “Oh my God,” Sarah said. “I didn’t know.” Her anger flared as she wondered what Azar and Ibrahim had been arrested for. Ali was right. They were incredibly selfish people. If she and Ali were going to try to rekindle something, and she still wasn’t sure that they were, it was going to be even harder to convince her parents and Aunt Mehri to accept Ali with his sister directly involved in efforts to overthrow the government.

  “Yeah, they’re something else,” Ali said, shaking his head. “So far as I’m concerned, there’s nothing in the world that’s worth risking another second in prison. But the two of them are so stubborn. And I’m afraid of what it’s costing me . . . my freedom, my business, my—” He looked at her intently. “—my wife.”

  Sarah didn’t say anything but noticed his fingers were tracing circles again, this time on the back of her hand.

  “Sarah. I don’t know what’s going on with my sister. And now the security forces are following me. I have no idea how this is going to play out. But”—He looked at her with a hungry need—“I know I want you with me.”

  Sarah felt her whole body pulse like a single nerve transmitting an urgent message.

  “I read your notebook, Sarah,” Ali said as he pulled her hand to his
lips for a kiss. “I’m sorry I ever doubted you.” He kissed her hand again, his scratchy beard tickling the back of her fingers. “I realize you were in a sort of prison too.” Another kiss. “Can you forgive me? And can I count on you now? Can we be a team and stand together no matter what my family or your family says? I need to know.”

  Ali had stopped kissing her hand and held it against his cheek, waiting for Sarah’s answer.

  Sarah locked eyes with Ali and, without any hesitation, said, “Yes. So long as you don’t doubt me again, I’m yours.”

  Ali reached across the table and tugged at her head scarf. He spoke in a low growl.

  “Then what are you still wearing this for?”

  * * *

  Sarah saw Ali as often as she could manage. She started skipping classes, and Ali took long lunches to accommodate their all-too-brief visits to the condo. They talked about when and how they should break the news to their families but agreed to keep it a secret for now. Ali didn’t want to further burden his parents, who were already overwhelmed with helping Azar and her kids deal with her husband’s absence. Sarah made similar claims about her own family but, truth be told, simply didn’t have the stomach to confront her parents with the lies they’d told her or deal with the hailstorm of fury that would come once they learned about her rekindled relationship with Ali.

  Besides, keeping the secret was fun. The condo was a separate reality, all the more precious for being unknown and inaccessible to the outside world. Sarah was in no rush to expose their happy cocoon to outsiders whose unappreciative gaze might bruise its magic.

  But keeping the secret was also harder than Sarah might have thought. It wasn’t that she had to lie. Sarah was a horrible liar, so she was grateful that her university schedule was sufficient to justify her comings and goings. What was hard was containing the joy that bubbled forth unceasingly in the form of dreamy smiles and distracted attempts to keep up with conversation, when all she really wanted to do was sit and think about Ali.

  Which was what she was doing at her aunt’s home, almost two months after she and Ali had started seeing each other again, when the conversation took a turn that captured her full attention.

  It was after Friday luncheon, and the whole extended family had retired to the formal living room for tea. As usual, the men had congregated in one corner of the room, while the ladies bunched around several coffee tables on the other side. Sarah, exhausted and lost in her plans to see Ali the next day, ignored the ladies’ chitchat. What should she wear tomorrow? How should she do her hair? It wasn’t easy thinking of clothes and a hairstyle that would stay presentable under the layers of coverings she would be wearing on the way over. Maybe Ali was right and she should keep a key of her own. That way, she could arrive earlier and change into whatever she wanted to wear for him.

  Sarah yawned. She was so sleepy these days. Wasn’t love supposed to energize you?

  Suddenly her aunt reached over and snapped her rheumatoid fingers in front of her face.

  “Kojaee? ”Aunt Mehri demanded in her shrill voice. “Where are you, Sarah?”

  Sarah was irritated at having been jolted out of her own thoughts but forced a smile and apologized. “Bebakhshid. I was distracted.”

  “I can see that,” Aunt Mehri harrumphed. She turned to Sarah’s mother and asked “Mahdiyeh, did you get things straightened out for this girl of yours?”

  Her mother shook her head to indicate that the answer was no. “We’re working on it,” she said. “I called his mother again this week.”

  Her aunt rolled her eyes. “Khodaya. My God! You’re still working on it? You should have taken care of this immediately. How are you going to find someone else for her if she’s still legally attached to this boy?”

  “I know. We wanted to but . . .” Her mother glanced at her before continuing. “Sarah wasn’t ready and Ali was in jail, so there was really nothing we could do.”

  “Azizam, come on!” Aunt Mehri’s voice was disbelieving. “He’s been out for months!”

  “I know,” Sarah’s mother agreed. “But that family . . . I just don’t know what to think.”

  Sarah interrupted. “About what? What do you mean?”

  The ladies ignored her, and her mother went on. “Before now, I didn’t want to press them too much. Their daughter was still in jail, and now their son-in-law . . .”

  Sarah was surprised to realize her mother had known about Azar and her husband. What else had they kept from her?

  Aunt Mehri jumped in. “You’re worried about their daughter? Mahdiyeh, you need to worry about your own daughter!”

  “You’re right—you’re completely right.” As always, Maman-joon swiftly capitulated to her older sister. “They’re giving us such a hard time. I talked with Ali’s mother again yesterday, and now she says that he refuses to agree to a divorce.”

  “What?” Aunt Mehri clucked. “It’s about the mehriyeh, the dowry, isn’t it?”

  “I don’t think so. We told them we don’t want it. We’d gladly forfeit the whole thing just to get this over with. I don’t know what the problem is, but without their agreement, it won’t be easy.”

  Sarah’s aunt shook her head again, and her voice trembled as she spoke. “The problem is who these people are. They’re parasites! They destroy everything good and clean and holy that they come near. It’s just like these protesters who hijacked the thirteenth of Aban commemoration of our victory over America to turn it into a Green demonstration. It makes me sick just thinking about them. Mahdiyeh dear, you know I never like to say I told you so, but it just breaks my heart . . . I can’t help but think that so much needless heartbreak could have been avoided if only . . . Well, I suppose there is no point dwelling on it.”

  Sarah’s mother was penitent. “You are absolutely right Mehri-joon. I’m truly horrified and ashamed that we ignored your counsel, and you can be sure it won’t happen again.”

  Aunt Mehri was mollified. “Well, anyway . . . we need to figure something out for Sarah soon. She’s so distracted . . . It’s almost like she’s in love with some college boy. You need to be more careful about the way you let her come and go.”

  Sarah protested. “I’m not in love with a college boy!”

  Her aunt ignored Sarah altogether and continued talking to Maman-joon.

  “But seriously, I have a few ideas for Sarah. You know the family that we went on Hajj with? They have a boy that is suitable. He’s not very good looking. He’s got some sort of acne infection. But he’s from a good family and we can’t be too picky now.”

  Sarah felt sick to her stomach.

  It was at this moment that her cousin Sadegh broke into the conversation from across the room.

  “You’re talking about Massoud? He’s a very good boy. A thousand times better than that scum, Ali. It’s a very good idea.”

  Sarah was enraged. How dare he!

  “Scum?” Sarah challenged her cousin, “You don’t even know him.”

  The living room suddenly quieted as the emotion in Sarah’s voice registered.

  Sadegh looked at Sarah in surprise before answering. “Well . . . I know his family. I know what type of people they are. Look what they’re trying to do to our country. Look how they encouraged people into the street again. If we don’t stop them, they’ll invite the Americans in tomorrow and turn us into another Iraq.”

  Explosions went off in Sarah’s head.

  “Oh my God! It was you. All this time I couldn’t believe it, but you are the one that got him arrested. You’re the one that ruined my life!”

  “Sarah!” Her mother interjected with a nervous laugh. “Don’t be silly.”

  Sadegh looked irritated. He stroked his beard with his long thin fingers. “What are you talking about? I’m just trying to help. Where do you get these crazy ideas?”

  Sarah felt the weight of her family’s
eyes watching for her response. She decided she wouldn’t back down and shouted, “I know you were involved! I saw you.”

  Sadegh rolled his green eyes condescendingly and pulled his thumb and forefinger along the sides of his mouth. “When did you see me dear cousin?”

  “I saw you! With that girl near Laleh park. You had flowers.”

  Sadegh froze. He opened his mouth as if he wanted to say something. Then he closed it and swallowed.

  Sarah’s aunt spoke up. “Chi migeh? What is she saying Sadegh?”

  Sarah repeated. “I saw him! Don’t try to deny it. What were you doing with her?”

  Sadegh looked at his mother. He looked at his wife. His face was flushed. He rose from his seat and walked out of the room. After a brief moment, his wife went after him.

  Sarah’s mother hissed. “What is wrong with you? What are you doing?”

  It was only then that Sarah thought about the small detail of the flowers whose significance she had previously overlooked. Sadegh hadn’t gone to that apartment building for work or to spy on someone. He was taking flowers to a beautiful woman who was not his wife.

  Golnaz Esfandiari, “Student Protests against Ahmadinejad Continue in Tehran,” Radio Free Europe / Radio Liberty Online, September 29, 2009, https://www.rferl.org/a/Student_Protests_Against_Ahmadinejad_Continue_In_Tehran/1839076.html.

  CHAPTER 5

  Friday, November 27, 2009—five and a half months after the election

  Iran’s Revolutionary Guard has confirmed that five British sailors have been detained after apparently straying into the country’s coastal waters.

  —Stephen Adams, The Telegraph, December 1, 20095

  Sadegh stepped into a pair of sandals on the back patio and jogged down the three wide steps to the garden, where he began walking the path around its perimeter, trying to calm himself.