Moon Daughter

by Zohreh Ghahremani

  Moradi leaned back and thought of his mother. No one understood him the way she had. She loved Rana, but her loyalty lay with her son, and he had a feeling she would have accepted Parisa, even liked her. He could use that kind of support these days as he dealt with yet another loss.

  His heart felt heavy at the thought of Parisa. She had offered hope against hope, given him a new outlook on life’s simple pleasures. At first, he attributed his excitement over her pregnancy to the prospect of finally having a boy. But he would have loved that child, no matter what it turned out to be. If that baby had lived, she could have been a little Parisa, her mere existence could have strengthened their union. As he pictured her alone in that small house, his heart filled with longing. Why was he sitting here sipping tea?

  “What’s taking you so long, girl?” he shouted.

  A breathless Banu came back empty handed. “I’m sorry, sir, but I can’t find it.”

  “a re you stupid?” he grunted. “How could you not find a book as large as that?”

  “Can’t figure out where Dayeh put it. I even went through all the drawers.” She shrugged and threw her hands in the air. “It’s not there.”

  Moradi couldn’t be more annoyed. He put his tea back on the table so hard that it made a loud cracking sound. “I’m going to leave now, but you better find that Koran soon, or God knows what I may do to you and that old witch.”

  Ignoring Banu’s crying, Moradi took his keys and left.

  On the way to Parisa’s, he tried to push away the new anxiety that crept into his heart. Months ago, when he and Rana had exchanged rough words on the phone, he told her there would be no divorce. At the time, he had dismissed what she said as pure anger, but now her words came back to haunt him. “If it’s money you worry about, then relax. I don’t want a shahi from you. You give me my freedom and all I’ll want out of that house is the holy book your parents brought me, the one on which we swore to be loyal to one another.” At the time, he thought she meant to remind him of his broken promise to God. Besides, that was such a cliché. Women threatened to take their Koran or “one stem of crystal sugar” in return for their freedom. Now he wondered.

  The Moradi family took pride in their record of prolonged marriages and, as far has he knew, there had been no divorce. That was why rather than buying a new Koran, his parents had parted with the one from his mother’s wedding. They trusted it would stay in the family forever.

  The missing Koran had only annoyed him at first, but by the time he reached Parisa’s, he knew it was serious. The signs had been there all along: The way Rana’s face lost color at the mention of the missing book, the silence, and that strange glance she exchanged with her nanny had been a look of surprise, even bewilderment. Taken upstairs to bless the packing? Oh, what a fool they had taken him for!

  Then again, wasn’t he going a bit ahead of himself? What if Banu did find the book? How silly he would feel about this imaginary conspiracy and his crazy suspicions. No, the recent tragedies and all the stress had made him irrational. He needed to view the situation logically. W here could Rana possibly go with no money, no job, and two kids to care for? Besides, she was still his wife and would remain so until he decided otherwise. With the security regulations set by the secret service, all passengers had to send their documents to their respective airline at least twenty-four hours ahead of time, and Rana had gone to Tehran even a day earlier than needed. That left him plenty of time to think this through. If his suspicions were founded, that woman had underestimated him.

  Chapter

  Seventeen

  MEHRABAD AIRPORT had never seen a busier day, nor could it possibly have displayed a more diverse crowd. The annual swarm of pilgrims to Mecca had reached its peak. While the European passengers and young Iranian women paraded in the latest fashions, hauling their Christian Dior and Louis Vuitton luggage, there were rows of women on their way to the holy pilgrimage, their long black gowns and white veils giving them the look of oversized penguins.

  The constant hum over the loudspeakers made it hard to understand a word. Most messages came across as an insignificant mumble and no one seemed to care.

  “We’ll be next,” Rana’s father said as a couple standing before them went through the door leading to the inspection area.

  “When will they give back our passports?”

  “Iran Air has them,” he said and nodded to a room ahead of them. As soon as the guard motioned them in, he picked up his carry-on bag and said, “I’ll wait for you in transit.”

  Rana nodded. With no Dayeh and no other help it was quite a task to hold on to Vida while carrying the baby.

  Rana waited anxiously. Over her last days in Shiraz, Moradi had acted casually, as though she was only going as far as Tehran for another short visit and for the past couple of days, he didn’t even bother to call. Once, when Vida fussed too much over missing her Peeshee, Rana rang the house in hopes that Banu would reassure her about the cat, but no one picked up. She imagined the girl down the alley with neighbors’ maids and knew exactly where he’d be, too.

  “I want to sit down,” Vida said, shifting her weight from one leg to the other.

  “I know, dear. It shouldn’t be much longer.”

  “W here did Grandpa go?”

  “I thought he was tired of standing and insisted he go first,” Rana said. “He’ll meet us on the other side.” When she looked up, her father had already gone beyond the glass doors that separated the passengers from the rest. Yalda’s head finally rested heavily on her mother’s shoulder, a sign that the infant had fallen asleep. They would be next, though Rana had no idea how long that might take.

  A porter pushing an elderly woman in a wheelchair approached. “Excuse me, ma’am, would you mind if we go through first?” And he nodded to the woman in the chair.

  “Not at all,” she said, and stepped aside. Something in that old woman’s face resembled Dayeh. She had been such a great help all along. How easy this trip would have been if her nanny could accompany her. But America was on the other side of the world.

  Her turn finally came and Rana took her children into a smaller room with three receiving booths, each occupied by someone in a dark blue uniform. The woman sitting inside the booth to her right motioned to her and while approaching, Rana looked around for her father. He must have gone ahead because two Iran Air agents constantly ushered the passengers into the transit area. Rana put the receipt for their documents on the counter.

  The heavy-set woman eyed her with what Rana interpreted as sheer curiosity before handing her one passport.

  “There should be two,” Rana said and gave the woman a polite smile. “My daughter Vida has her own.”

  The clerk looked at her from above the rim of her glasses. “I’m afraid that’s all I have for Moradi.”

  Leaning against the counter for support, Rana felt her knees shaking. “But I have the receipt for two,” she said. “Could you please look again?”

  The woman gave her a condescending look. “Ma’am, I know my job. The only document here is for you and baby Ameli. Sometimes, passengers are denied the exit permit. In which case, the passports aren’t sent to us.”

  Rana stared at her for a few long seconds, feeling totally confused. “You can’t be serious,” she finally said and her voice was surprisingly high, making other passengers turn to look. She lowered her voice. “No one would issue—or deny—an exit permit to a child.” The words came out without conviction. “I’m her mother and she’s traveling with me!”

  “I’m only doing my job, ma’am,” the woman said and busied herself with the papers on her desk as if to dismiss her.

  “I know you are,” Rana said in an apologetic tone. “But there must be some mistake.”

  The woman looked up again, but this time, Rana noticed she stared over her shoulder at a point beyond her. Instinctively, she turned to see what had distracted the woman, and lost her breath at the sight of the two people who had just left the corner office ma
rked, “Security.” From the far end of the room, Moradi approached, accompanied by a heavy-set policeman, and they were headed straight toward her. Fear penetrated every cell of her body. A sinking feeling told her all had ended, but despite her strong intuition, she gave herself a chance to be wrong and took a step toward him, but as their eyes met, she knew.

  “Hello, Rana,” Moradi’s sarcastic tone implied it had been a while since they last met.

  “What’s going on?” Rana said without bothering with any pleasantries. “What’s this lady talking about? What happened to Vida’s passport?”

  Vida saw her father and ran to him, “Papa, you’re going, too?”

  He picked her up and held her in his arms before giving Rana a cold smile. “She won’t need one. She’s not going any where!” He reached into his pocket to produce the missing passport. Waving the document in the air, he gave her a piercing look and tucked it back into his pocket.

  “Pardon me, Captain,” the clerk said to Moradi. “I can’t keep people waiting. Do you mind taking your discussion to the side?”

  Moradi carried Vida a couple of steps away from the counter.

  “What are you doing?” Rana said, still puzzled.

  “I’m taking my daughter back,” he said, and the fire in his eyes left no doubt that somehow he knew her plan.

  “You’re making a scene,” she said in a hushed voice and rolled her eyes toward the other passengers. “Give me the passport. Papa’s already checked in and waiting.”

  Moradi laughed. “Oh, you’re more than welcome to join Papá. After all that plotting and planning, God knows you both deserve a nice, long vacation.” His words had a perilous tone, and a wicked smile spread across his lips.

  Unprepared, Rana realized that she needed to think fast, but felt too confused to do so. “What’s the problem?” she asked for the lack of a better response.

  “Problem?” he said and laughed. “I’ve just left your father’s house. That good-for-nothing Dayeh of yours wouldn’t tell me much, but it was what she didn’t say that left me no doubt just who stole my father’s Koran.” He bent down to Rana’s level and used an equally lowered voice. “A shameful theft, if you ask me.” He gave her another mean smile. “Far beneath even you!”

  So that book had led him to this, but still, he had no proof. She tried to keep her poise. “You’re right about the Koran, it’s in my suitcase, to keep us safe during this ordeal, and I was planning to bring it back. That’s no reason to deny your daughter a holiday.”

  “A holiday, ha!” He threw his head back. “You don’t really think I’m that stupid, do you?”

  “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “Oh, but you do.” He smiled. “I came to Tehran on a mere hunch, but as luck would have it, I had the good fortune to bump into the young custodian of Mr. Eskandary’s office.” He nodded several times and broadened his smile. “You’d be amazed at what a couple of large bills can do to a servant’s tongue.”

  Rana had completely forgotten about the young man who served tea at Mr. Eskandary’s. So Moradi knew that their passports had gone to the lawyer’s office. What else had that stupid young man told him?

  “So, this is all because of what some servant told you?” Rana said, forcing a smile. Her pulse was now pounding in her temples, as if her brain was about to explode. How could Rana and her father have overlooked this possibility? Then again, who could have imagined a trusted lawyer’s servant eavesdropping? “And you bought such nonsense?” She laughed nervously.

  “What about stealing my Koran, is that also nonsense?”

  “That was a gift to me at my wedding, therefore it is mine to—”

  “Like hell it is,” he shouted. Then, as if conscious of the onlookers, he lowered his voice. “That holy book belongs to the Moradi family,” he said and nodding to Vida he added, “And so does she. I’ll be damned if I’m going to lose her.”

  “You won’t lose anything. Too bad the luggage has already gone through, but don’t you worry about your precious family possessions. I’ll send it back as soon as I unpack.”

  Vida seemed scared and Rana wished she could say something reassuring to her. As if sensing danger, the child’s initial joy had vanished and she now squirmed under Moradi’s grip. “Put me down, Papa!” she begged.

  Moradi ignored her and said to Rana, “Just where the hell you plan to go doesn’t interest me one bit, but if you think you can sneak out of the country and take my daughter, you’re a bigger fool than I had thought.”

  Vida looked up. Her face was flushed and she looked as if she was about to cry. What kind of an emotional scar would this leave on her little girl? Vida had always been easy to bribe, but this was serious.

  “Take your baby and go wherever the hell you want, do whatever will fix her problem.” He wrapped his arm tightly around Vida’s shoulders. “But this one’s coming back home to Shiraz.” And he took another step away. “I’ll be damned if I’m going to lose another child.”

  Rana felt disembodied and couldn’t believe that the stranger now holding her child hostage had been her man for years.

  Moradi turned to walk away and she called after him, “Wait!” With a few hurried steps she reached him. “Please don’t do this,” she pleaded, and immediately regretted it. His eyes were so cold that her words froze inside her. She turned to Vida and tried a smile. “You be a good girl and wait with your father. I’ll be back as soon as I find Grandpa.”

  She then turned back to him. “I don’t know why you’re doing this, but I’m not going to leave my daughter like this. If she’s not going, then no one is. Just give me time to find Papa and tell him the trip is cancelled.”

  Moradi shrugged. “Makes no difference to me. We’ll be in the lobby.”

  Rana took her boarding pass, adjusted the baby’s position on her shoulder, and rushed to the door at the other end of the room. With each passing moment, she felt more anxious. Would her husband keep his word and wait for her or was he already dragging Vida home? No sooner had she entered a larger area with shops all around than her worried father rushed to her.

  “What took you so long?” he asked looking beyond her. “And where’s Vida?”

  “Farhad came for her.”

  His face turned pale. “What?”

  “He knows, Papa. It’s over.”

  He bit his lip, scanned the area and spotted a row of chairs near the wall. He took her elbow and motioned to them. Rana felt him trembling and deeply regretted the way she had delivered the shocking news. As soon as her father could grab the handle of a chair, he let go of her arm and lowered himself into it.

  Breathless, he loosened his tie, undid the top button of his shirt, and gasped for air. “Now tell me.”

  Rana sat down and tried to sound calm. “Farhad found out about our plan.” It surprised even her that the words did not sound half as horrible as she felt, as if the fear of giving her father another heart attack had reminded her of more immediate priorities. “I’m not sure how much he knows,” she went on. “But apparently, Mr. Eskandary’s manservant knew enough and Farhad bribed him into telling what he knew.”

  Her father slapped his forehead in disgust. “Curse to the devil!”

  “Farhad has seized Vida’s passport. It’s okay, Papa, we’ll have to cancel the whole deal.”

  He cupped his large hands over hers. “Slow down, dear. W here are they now?”

  “Waiting in the lobby.”

  For as long as Rana had known her father he had never looked so baffled. The lost expression in his eyes could only mean that he, too, was confused by this new twist. “How? I mean, what prompted him to come to Tehran? And how the hell did that servant know?” More than anger, his voice had the tone of resignation, as if the answer no longer mattered.

  “I’ll tell you later. Please let’s go now. I’m not sure how much longer he’ll wait.”

  Her father seemed to be thinking hard as he scratched his forehead, taking his time. He would not even
return her look and may have stayed that way much longer if there hadn’t been another broken announcement. “Iran Air Flight- num… 973 to London and N.. York is now boarding at gate B1…” the nasal voice came through.

  He looked up and squeezed Rana’s hands. “That’s you, honey. Go on. Take that baby and go to America and do everything as we had planned.” He stood, put a hand on her back and gave it a gentle push. “I’ll stay behind and deal with him. You go now.”

  Rana took a step back. “Go?” she exclaimed the word in protest. “And just where do you propose I go after abandoning my child?” She couldn’t believe the tone she had taken with her father. She lowered her voice and said, “You know I’ve never disobeyed you, Papa, but do you have any idea what you’re asking me to do? God took my Marjan, but no one can make me abandon any of my children.”

  “Oh, sweetheart,” he said, shaking his head. “Nobody is suggesting you abandon her.”

  “What then?” she said and glared back.

  “You have a return ticket. All I’m suggesting is to go ahead. Not only will you return and prove the man wrong, but also the break will be good for you and it will also give you the final word on what can be done for the baby. It was not easy to make her appointments and I want you to make sure she benefits from them.”

  Rana stared at the sleeping infant and felt a tug at her heart. Under those garments hid a tiny leg in desperate need of help. Could she deprive Yalda of a chance to be seen by those who might be able to help her? Of all the people involved in this mess, Yalda mattered most and she had no voice here. Dr. Fard had said they would not do anything until Yalda was much older. He was a good doctor, but how much did he know of surgeries? Rana owed it to her little girl to make sure.

  Her father’s voice broke her chain of thought. “True that you won’t be able to stay as planned, but why not go through with the medical consultations?” He thought a little and added, “Going back at this moment won’t solve anything. It will only hurt your infant and in a way, it’ll prove Farhad right. All he has is the words of a servant. Nothing is documented and he hasn’t seen Yalda’s birth certificate, either.” He motioned to the lobby. “I’ll go there and make sure Vida is okay. When you come back in few weeks, you’ll prove your husband wrong. Meanwhile, this’ll give everyone a chance to think things over.”