The Book of Fate (14 page)

I looked around me. The apartment had taken on a different look. I liked it. A noise out in the front yard drew me to the window, but I didn't see anyone there. The flowerbeds looked parched and thirsty. I went outside and watered them, and then I poured water in the yard and on the stairs and washed them. It was dark outside when, tired and drenched in sweat, I finally finished the work. I remembered that we had a bath in the apartment. Although there was no hot water and I didn't know how to turn on the large kerosene water heater in the corner of the bathroom, it was still a welcome prize. I washed the bathtub and the sink and then I took a cold shower. I quickly washed my hair, lathered my body and got out. I put on the floral house dress Mrs Parvin had made for me, gathered my hair in a ponytail and looked at myself in the mirror. I thought I looked very different. I was no longer a child. It was as if I had aged several years in just a few days.

 

At the sound of the door to the street my heart sank. I ran over to the window. The stranger's parents, his youngest sister Manijeh, and his grandmother Bibi were in the front yard. His sister was holding his grandmother under the arm and helping her up the steps to the ground-floor veranda. His father was walking ahead to unlock the door. I heard his mother panting up the stairs to the first floor. With trembling hands and legs, I opened the door and after taking a deep breath I said hello.

‘Well! Well! Hello, madam bride. How are you? Where's the groom?' And before I had a chance to answer, his mother walked in and called out, ‘Hamid? Son, where are you?'

I sighed with relief; they didn't know he had left on our wedding night and had not come back to the apartment. ‘He is not home,' I said quietly.

‘Where did he go?' his mother asked.

‘He said he was going to visit his friends.'

His mother shook her head and started inspecting the apartment. She poked her head into every nook and cranny. I didn't know how to interpret the way she kept shaking her head. I felt as though a tough teacher was reviewing my exam paper. I was nervous, waiting for her final judgment. She ran her hand over the embroidered tablecloth I had spread on the mantelpiece in the living room and asked, ‘Did you embroider this?'

‘No.'

She went to the bedroom and opened the closet door. I liked how neat and tidy it was. Again she shook her head. In the kitchen, she looked inside the cabinets and examined the plates and platters. She picked one up and turned it over. ‘Is it a Massoud?'

‘Yes!'

Finally, the inspection ended and she returned to the hall. She sat down on a floor cushion and leaned against a backrest. I went to prepare some tea. I put some pastries on a platter and took it to the hall.

‘My girl, come sit down,' she said. ‘I am so very pleased. Just like Mrs Parvin said, you are pretty, meticulous, have excellent taste, and in just two days you have managed to straighten up this apartment. Your mother said a day or two after the marriage we would have to come and help you clean your home, but that doesn't seem necessary. I can tell you are a great homemaker and my mind is at ease. Now, my girl, where did you say Hamid is?'

‘With his friends.'

‘Look here, my girl, a wife must be a woman. She must keep a tight grip on her husband and manage him. You have to keep your eyes open. My Hamid has thorns and his thorns are his friends. You have to make sure he cuts himself off from them. And let me warn you, his friends aren't meek and obedient. Everyone said, if we get Hamid busy with a wife and kids, he will lose interest in them. Now it's up to you to keep him so distracted that he won't feel time fly by. And in nine months you should hand him his first child and nine months later the second one. In short, you have to keep him so busy that he will lose interest in all that other stuff. I did my best; by weeping, fainting and praying I finally managed to marry him off. Now it's your turn.'

It was as if a veil had suddenly been lifted from before my eyes. Aha! So just like me, the poor stranger had been forced to sit through that marriage ceremony. He was not interested in his spouse or married life. Perhaps he, too, was in love with someone else. But if that was the case, why didn't his family ask for that girl's hand? After all, their son and his desires were very important to them. Unlike me, he didn't have to sit and wait for suitors to come calling; he could choose anyone he wanted. His parents were so desperate to see him get married that they would not have objected to his choice. Perhaps he was altogether against marriage and didn't want to be burdened by it. But why? After all, he was a man of a certain age. Could it have been just because of his friends? His mother's voice pulled me out of my thoughts.

‘I cooked herb stew with lamb shank. Hamid loves it. I didn't have the heart not to give him some. I brought you a pot. I know you're not going to have time to wash and clean herbs for quite a while… By the way, do you have any rice here?'

Surprised, I shrugged.

‘It's in the cellar. Every year his father buys rice for us and he always buys a few sacks for Bibi and Hamid as well. Make some smothered rice tonight; it will go well with the stew. Hamid doesn't like steamed rice. We are leaving tomorrow and I had to bring Bibi back home; otherwise, I would have kept her with us for a few more days. She is a harmless old woman. Look in on her once in a while. She usually takes care of her own cooking, but it would be nice if you could drop in on her and take her some food. It would please God.'

Just then, Manijeh and her father walked in. I got up and said hello. Hamid's father smiled at me and said, ‘Hello, my girl. How are you?' Then he turned to his wife and said, ‘You were right. She looks much prettier than she did at the marriage ceremony.'

‘Look and see what a home she has made in just a single day. See how she has cleaned and organised everything. Now let's see what excuse our son will come up with this time.'

Manijeh peeked around and said, ‘How much time did you have? You two were probably sleeping all day yesterday and you had to go to the mother-in-law greeting.'

‘We had to go to what?' I asked.

‘The mother-in-law greeting. Isn't that right, Mother? Don't the married couple have to go visit the bride's mother the day after the marriage?'

‘Well, yes. You should have gone. Didn't you?'

‘No,' I said. ‘I didn't know we had to.'

They all laughed.

‘Of course, Hamid has no clue about these customs and traditions, and how would this poor girl know?' his mother said. ‘But now that you do know, the two of you must go visit your mother. They are expecting you.'

‘Yes, and they will give you gifts,' Manijeh said. ‘Mother, remember the beautiful Allah pendant you gave Bahman Khan when he and Mansoureh came for the mother-in-law greeting?'

‘Yes, I remember. By the way, my girl, what would you like me to bring for you from Mecca? And don't stand on ceremony.'

‘Nothing, thank you.'

‘And we've decided to hold the bedside ceremony after we return. Well, give it some thought until tomorrow and see if there is anything you would like from Mecca.'

‘Missus, let's go,' his father said. ‘I don't think this boy is going to show up and I'm tired. God willing, he will come to see us tomorrow or he will come to the airport to see us off. Well, my girl, let's leave the goodbyes for tomorrow.'

His mother hugged and kissed me and with a lump in her throat she said, ‘Swear on your life and his that you will take care and not let anything bad happen to him. And do look in on Manijeh while we're away, although Mansoureh will take care of her.'

They left and I breathed a sigh of relief. I gathered the tea glasses and dessert plates and then went downstairs to look for the rice. I heard Bibi calling me from her apartment so I went over and said hello to her. She carefully looked me up and down and said, ‘Hello to your beautiful face. God willing you will have a happy marriage, my girl, and you will straighten out this boy.'

‘I'm sorry, but do you have the key to the cellar?' I asked.

‘It's right there on top of the door frame, my girl.'

‘Thank you. I'll prepare dinner right away.'

‘Good girl. Cook, cook.'

‘I'll bring some for you. Don't bother preparing anything for yourself.'

‘No my girl, I don't eat dinner. But if you go to buy bread tomorrow, get some for me as well.'

‘Of course!'

And I thought, If the stranger doesn't come back home, how am I going to buy bread?

The scent of smothered rice and fresh herb stew stirred my appetite. I couldn't remember the last time I had had a proper meal. Dinner was ready around ten o'clock, but there was no sign of the stranger. No, I couldn't and didn't want to wait for him. I ate ravenously, washed the dishes and put the leftovers, which were enough for four meals, in the refrigerator. Then I took my book and went to bed. Unlike the previous night, I fell asleep quickly.

 

I woke up at eight. My sleep hours were slowly returning to normal and the bedroom no longer felt unfamiliar. The peace that I felt after such a short time in that apartment I had never experienced in my own crowded and unsafe home. I lazily tossed around in bed for a while and then I got up and made the bed. I walked out of the bedroom and suddenly froze where I stood. The stranger was sleeping on a blanket on the floor, next to the floor cushions. I had not heard him come in the night before.

I stood still for a while. He was in a deep sleep. His figure wasn't as burly as I had imagined. His forearm was resting over his eyes and forehead. He had a bushy moustache that completely covered his upper lip and part of his lower lip as well. His hair was curly and tousled. He was somewhat olive-skinned and seemed to be tall. I said to myself, This man is my husband, but if I had run into him on the street, I would not have recognised him. How ridiculous. I quietly washed up and turned on the samovar. But what was I going to do about bread? Finally, I had an idea. I put on my chador and soundlessly walked out of the apartment. Bibi was at the reflecting pool, filling the watering can.

‘Hello, Mrs Bride. Has that lazy Hamid not woken up yet?'

‘No. I am going to go buy some bread. You still haven't had breakfast, have you?'

‘No, my girl, and I'm not in a hurry.'

‘Where is the bakery?'

‘When you walk out the door, turn right, at the end of the road, turn left, go one hundred steps and you'll be right in front of the bakery.'

I fidgeted a bit and then I said, ‘I'm sorry, do you have any small change? I don't want to wake Hamid and I'm afraid the bakery won't have any change.'

‘Yes, my dear. It's on the mantelpiece.'

When I returned, Hamid was still asleep. I went to the kitchen and started preparing breakfast. I turned to take the cheese out of the refrigerator and suddenly came face to face with the stranger standing in the doorway. I instinctively gasped. He quickly stepped back, raised his arms in surrender, and said, ‘No! No! For the love of God, don't be afraid. Do I look like the bogeyman! Am I really that scary?'

I wanted to laugh. Seeing me smile, he relaxed and raised his arms higher to rest his hands on top of the door frame.

‘It looks like you are feeling better today,' he said.

‘Yes, thank you. Breakfast will be ready in a few minutes.'

‘Wow! Breakfast! And you've cleaned the place. I guess Mother was right when she said, with a woman in the house everything will be neat and tidy. I just hope I can still find my things. I'm not used to all this order.'

He went into the bathroom. A few minutes later, he called out, ‘Hey… there was a bathtowel here. Where did you put it?'

I took a folded towel to the bathroom door. He popped his head out and said, ‘By the way, what is your name?'

I was stunned. He didn't even know my name. After all, my name had been spoken several times during the marriage ceremony. How indifferent he must have been, or how deeply drowned in his own thoughts.

Coldly, I said, ‘Massoum.'

‘Ah, Massoum. But is it Massoum or Massoumeh?'

‘It makes no difference. Most people call me Massoum.'

He peered more carefully into my face and said, ‘It's good… it suits you.'

My heart ached. He had said the same thing. What a difference between his love and affection and this one's indifference. He once told me he repeated my name a thousand times a day. Tears welled up in my eyes. I turned and went back to the kitchen, took the breakfast tray to the hall and spread the cloth on the floor. With his curly hair still wet and a towel slung around his neck, the stranger walked over. His dark eyes were kind and cheerful. I no longer felt any fear.

‘Excellent! What a great breakfast. And we have fresh bread, too. Another benefit of being married.'

I thought he only said this for my benefit. He probably wanted to make up for the fact that he didn't know my name. He sat down cross-legged and I put a tea glass in front of him. He spread some cheese on a piece of bread and said, ‘Well, tell me, why were you so afraid of me? Am I scary or would you have been frightened no matter who walked into your bedroom that night as your husband?'

‘I would have been scared no matter who it was.'

And in my heart I continued, Except Saiid. If it were him, I would have leaped into his arms with my heart and soul.

‘Then why did you get married?' he asked.

‘I had to.'

‘Why?'

‘My family believed it was time.'

‘But you are still very young. Did you think it was time?'

‘No, I wanted to go to school.'

‘Then why didn't you?'

‘They said a year six certificate is enough for a girl,' I explained. ‘I begged so much that they actually let me study a few more years.'

‘So they forced you to sit through that marriage ceremony and they refused to let you go to school, which was your legitimate right.'