The Book of Fate
Page 50
‘My mother kept insisting that I take a wife. I finally gave in and married Nazy who was the sister of one of my partners and had just finished school. Eventually, we had children, twins, a pair of mischief-makers. It was so difficult raising them that I decided I didn’t want any more kids. After the revolution, everything was a mess and the future of the company was unclear. When war broke out, our prospects became even more uncertain. Nazy’s entire family was leaving the country and she got it into her head that we should leave as well. The borders were closed, but she insisted that we leave illegally. Still, I resisted for two years until the situation improved. By then my mother was gravely ill; I think the sorrow of knowing that I would soon leave Iran hastened her death. I was terribly depressed. I sold everything we had. The only wise thing I did was that I kept my shares in the company. We first went to Austria; Nazy’s other brother was living there. And we stayed until we had the necessary documents to go to America.
‘Starting from zero was difficult. Regardless, we stayed and settled down. The children were happy. It took only a couple of years for them to become completely American. Nazy wanted to improve her English, so she forbade us from talking Persian at home. As a result, the boys almost entirely forgot their mother tongue. I worked morning till night and we had a comfortable life. I had everything except happiness. I missed my sisters, my friends, Tehran and Rezaieh. Nazy had her family and friends around her and my children were happy with their friends at school and in the neighbourhood, but they were living in a world that I had never experienced and knew nothing about. I felt alone and alienated.
‘When the war ended, I heard that the situation here had improved and a lot of people were coming back. So I came, too. The company was still in business and the market wasn’t all that bad. I returned to work. I felt much better and was in good spirits. Soon, I bought an apartment and went to bring back Nazy, but she wasn’t willing to return. She had the perfect excuse, the kids… Well, she was right. It was no longer possible to tear them away from a culture they had blended into. In the end, we decided that because I could make more money in Iran, I would stay here and work, and Nazy would stay there until the boys grew up. This is how our life has been for the past six or seven years. Now, the children have grown up and moved to different states, but Nazy still has no intention of coming back to Iran. Once a year, I go to see them for a few months… the rest is loneliness and work. I know it’s not a healthy life, but I haven’t done anything to change it.’
Parvaneh was kicking me under the table and looking at Saiid with a mischievous, scarcely concealed smile that I knew all too well. But I felt sad for him. I had always hoped that at least he would end up happy, but it seemed he was lonelier than me.
‘Well, it’s your turn now,’ he said looking at me.
I told him about my rushed marriage to Hamid, his kindness, his political activities, his years in prison and his execution. I talked about my work, about going to university and about all that I had suffered because of my children. Then I told him about the recent years, about my children who had settled down and about my own life that was finally almost quiet. We talked like three dear friends who had come together again after many years, and we forgot the hours passing.
The sound of the telephone ringing made us jump. Parvaneh went to answer it. A few seconds later, she called out, ‘It’s Shirin. She says it’s ten o’clock!’
‘Where are you, Mum?’ Shirin said angrily. ‘It seems you are having a really good time. I got worried.’
‘It’s all right if for once you are the one who is worried,’ I said. ‘We were busy talking and lost track of time.’
As we were leaving, Saiid said, ‘I will drive you home.’
‘No, she has her own car,’ Parvaneh said with her usual brashness. ‘You are not allowed to talk without me present.’
Saiid laughed out loud and I glowered at Parvaneh.
‘What? Why are you glaring at me again?’ she said. ‘Well, I want to know what you two talk about… You see, Saiid Khan? She hasn’t changed a bit. When we were kids, she was always saying, “Don’t say this, it’s rude; don’t do that, it’s improper.” Fifty years later, she is still doing the same thing.’
‘Enough, Parvaneh!’ I chided. ‘Stop saying all this nonsense.’
‘Well, I say what is on my mind. I swear to God, if I find out you two have seen each other behind my back, I will punish you. I have to be there, too.’
Saiid was still laughing. I bit my lip and said, ‘Of course, you will be there…’
‘Then, why don’t we plan our next gathering now? And don’t tell me you don’t want to see each other again.’
To put an end to the discussion, I said, ‘Please come to my home next time.’
‘Aha, that’s good,’ Parvaneh said. ‘When?’
‘Wednesday morning. Shirin leaves for the university at ten and she won’t be back until late afternoon. Come for lunch.’
Parvaneh clapped her hands and cheerfully said, ‘Great! I will ask Farzaneh to come and stay with Mother. Is Wednesday all right with you, Saiid Khan?’
‘I wouldn’t want to trouble you,’ he said.
‘It is no trouble at all,’ I said. ‘I would be delighted.’
He quickly wrote down my address and telephone number and we parted with plans to see each other two days later.
I went home but had not even changed my clothes when the telephone rang. Laughing and ecstatic, Parvaneh said, ‘Congratulations! The guy doesn’t have a wife!’
‘Of course he does. Did you miss that long story?’
‘The story was about a separation, not a marriage. Didn’t you get it?’
‘The poor man… You are so mean. God willing, his wife will come back and their life will get back on track.’
‘Come on!’ Parvaneh said. ‘After all these years, I still don’t know if you are really stupid or just pretend to be.’
‘My dear, they are officially husband and wife,’ I argued. ‘They have not legally separated, and there was no mention of a divorce. How can you allow yourself to so hastily judge people’s relationships?’
‘Let’s see, what is the definition of a separation?’ she stubbornly maintained. ‘Is it a separation only after you sign a piece of paper? No, my dear. When it comes to emotions, preferences, lifestyles, time and place, they have been separated for seven years. Use your brain, do you really think in that open society the lady is sitting all alone, crying her eyes out over a man for whom she won’t even make a quick trip to Iran? And do you think for seven years this gentleman has lived as innocently as Jesus Christ with only the memory of his beloved?’
‘If this is the case, then why don’t they legally separate?’ I asked.
‘Why should they? The woman is too smart to do that. She has a mule who works, makes lots of money and sends it to her. And he is a trouble-free mule… he doesn’t need lunch and dinner, and he doesn’t need his clothes washed and ironed. She would have to be an idiot to give up the goose that lays the golden eggs. On his part, the gentleman has either not wanted to marry someone else, or he has assets overseas, half of which he would have to give to that woman in case of a divorce. And so far, he has not seen the need to do that.’
‘My God, the things you think about!’
‘I have seen a thousand similar cases,’ Parvaneh said. ‘Saiid and his wife may have different circumstances, but they have one thing in common with the others: this husband and wife will never be a husband and wife for each other again. You can be sure of that.’
I prepared for Wednesday with a youthful energy that I thought I had long lost. I cleaned and tidied up the apartment, cooked and tended to myself. What a wonderful day the three of us had together. And so our gatherings continued, dominating my life.
I felt young again. I took care of my appearance, wore make-up and bought new dresses. Sometimes, I even pilfered Shirin’s closet and borrowed her clothes. The world had taken on a different colour. There was
a new purpose to life. I worked and did everything I had to do with passion and excitement. I no longer felt lonely, old, useless and forgotten. I looked younger. The wrinkles around my eyes were less obvious. The lines around my mouth were not as deep. My skin looked fresher, more radiant. There was a pleasant feeling of anticipation in my heart. The sound of the telephone ringing had a new meaning. I would instinctively lower my voice and answer the call with vague and broken words. I avoided Shirin’s inquisitive eyes. I knew she had noticed the changes in me, but she didn’t know what had brought them on.
A week after our meetings started, she said, ‘Mum, ever since you found your old friends, you seem to be in much better spirits.’
Another time she joked, ‘Mum, I swear there is something suspicious in your behaviour.’
‘What do you mean by “suspicious”? What am I doing?’
‘Things you didn’t do before. You pamper yourself, you go out a lot, you are cheerful, you sing. I don’t know, you’re different.’
‘Different how?’
‘You’re like someone who is in love; like a little girl.’
Parvaneh and I thought it wise to introduce Saiid to Shirin. At my age, it was unbecoming to sneak around and to be terrified of her seeing me with him. But we had to come up with a reason for his visits. After several discussions, we decided to introduce him as one of Parvaneh’s family friends who had recently returned to Iran from abroad and work was the reason we were occasionally meeting. Coincidentally, Saiid had translated several articles into Persian and he had asked me to edit them for him.
Shirin saw Saiid on a few occasions. I was curious to find out what she thought of him, but I didn’t want to make her suspicious. Finally, she broached the subject herself.
‘Where did Aunt Parvaneh find him?’
‘I told you, he is a family friend,’ I said. ‘Why?’
‘Nothing… he’s a good-looking old man.’
‘Old man?’
‘Yes, he is very refined and gracious,’ she said. ‘He doesn’t match Aunt Parvaneh.’
‘You are so rude! All of Aunt Parvaneh’s friends and relatives are dignified.’
‘Then why is she the way she is?’
‘The way she is?’
‘Well, she is a little crazy.’
‘You should be ashamed of yourself!’ I chided. ‘You shouldn’t talk about your aunt like that. Is it bad that she is cheerful and funny and makes everyone feel young?’
‘Yes! When she is around, you are too peppy and perky and the two of you are constantly whispering to each other.’
‘Are you jealous of her? Can’t I have even one friend?’
‘I never said that! I’m happy to see you so energetic and in good spirits. It’s just that she seems to forget how old she is.’
Over the summer, the three of us saw each other at least every other day. It was early September when Saiid invited us to a garden estate he had bought north of Tehran, near Mount Damavand. What a beautiful and memorable day. The mountains reached up to the sky and the breeze brought the chill of their snow-covered peaks. The air was clean and fragrant; the small leaves on the slim branches of the white poplars that circled the estate fluttered like large sequins, changing colour under the brilliant sun. When the breeze gusted more strongly, the flickering leaves sounded like a crowd of thousands applauding you, life and the beauties of nature. Alongside the narrow streams, clusters of petunias were lolling in their own sweet scent. The trees were laden with heavenly fruits. Apples, pears, yellow plums and fuzzy peaches glistened under the sun. There had been very few occasions in my life when I had wished time to stop. That day was one of them.
The three of us were so happy and comfortable together. The veils of caution and unfamiliarity had dropped and we talked freely. Like my other half, Parvaneh would say the things I found myself incapable of verbalising. With her friskiness and candour, she made us laugh. I could not control my laughter. It was as if it was rising from the deepest particles of my being and blossoming on my lips; its sound was pleasing and foreign to me. I asked myself, Is this really me laughing like this?
Late in the afternoon, after a long and refreshing walk, we sat on the villa’s high terrace that had a view of the magnificent sunset. We were having tea and pastries when Parvaneh started.
‘Saiid, I have to ask you,’ she said. ‘All these years, Massoum and I have wondered why you disappeared after that night. Why didn’t you come back? Why didn’t you send your mother to ask for her hand? You could have avoided all the hardships you both endured in life.’
I was stunned. Until that moment, we had avoided talking about that night because it would have embarrassed me and certainly made Saiid uncomfortable. I looked at her and gasped, ‘Parvaneh!’
‘What? I think we have grown close enough to be able to talk about everything, especially about something this important that changed your destinies. Saiid, you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.’
‘No, I need to explain,’ he said. ‘As a matter of fact, I have wanted to talk about that night and everything that happened, but I didn’t want to upset Massoum.’
‘Massoum, is it going to upset you?’ Parvaneh asked.
‘Actually, I wouldn’t mind knowing…’ I said.
‘That night, oblivious to everything that was going on, I was working at the pharmacy when Ahmad suddenly burst in and started shouting obscenities. He was very drunk. Dr Ataii tried to calm him down, but Ahmad attacked him. I ran over to pull the doctor away and Ahmad lunged at me and started beating me. Everyone in the neighbourhood came running. I was shocked and mortified. Those days, I was so shy that I wasn’t even comfortable smoking a cigarette in public, and there was Ahmad shouting that I had led his sister astray. Then he suddenly pulled out a knife and people ran and dragged me out from under him. Before he left, Ahmad threatened that if he ever saw me around there again, he would kill me. Dr Ataii said it was best if I didn’t go to work for a few days and allowed things to calm down. Besides, I was not doing too well. I could hardly move and one of my eyes was so swollen that I could not see out of it. Still, my wounds were not serious. It was just my arm that needed a few stitches.
‘A few days later, Dr Ataii came to see me. He said that every night Ahmad was going to the pharmacy completely drunk and creating a scene. He had said, “If people stopped me from killing that filthy dog here, no one can stop me at home. I will kill that shameless girl and make that bastard grieve for the rest of his life.” Meanwhile, Dr Tabatabaii told Dr Ataii that he had been called to your house and that you had been badly beaten and were in terrible shape. Dr Ataii said, “For the sake of that innocent girl, go away for a few months. Then I will talk to her father myself and you can go with your mother and ask for her hand.”
‘A few times I came and stood outside your house late at night, hoping that I would at least see you behind a window. In the end, I dropped out of university, went home to Rezaieh and waited to hear from the doctor. I was thinking that we could get married and you could live there with my mother until I got my degree. I kept waiting, but there was no word from the doctor. Finally, I came back to Tehran and went to see him. He started telling me that I had to continue my studies, that I was just starting out in life and that I would soon forget everything that had happened. At first, I thought you were dead. But then he told me that your family had quickly married you off. I was devastated. It took me six months to finally pull myself together and go on with my life.’
The cool days of mid-September heralded the coming of autumn. Parvaneh was getting ready to leave for Germany. Her mother was in better health and the doctors had said it was safe for her to travel. The three of us were sitting in the garden at Parvaneh’s house. I had wrapped a thin shawl around me.
‘Parvaneh, this time I am sadder about you leaving than ever before,’ I said. ‘I will feel terribly lonely.’
‘May God hear what is really in your heart!’ she said. ‘You two prayed and pleaded wi
th him to get rid of me! But from now on, every word you two exchange you will have to write for me in a letter. Even better, get a tape recorder and record all your conversations.’
This time, Saiid didn’t laugh. He shook his head and said, ‘Don’t worry; I have to leave, too.’
Parvaneh and I suddenly sat up straight and I gasped, ‘To go where?’
‘I have to go to America. I always go at the start of the summer and spend three months with Nazy and the boys. This year, I have been putting it off. To be honest, I just didn’t want to go…’