The Book of Fate (58 page)

‘After your father's death, a number of men proposed to me.'

‘I know about all of them,' Massoud said. ‘Some of them were stubborn beyond belief. You were a beautiful and complete woman. Did you think I didn't notice their eager looks and the way they pursued you? Like all other children in the same situation, I used to have nightmares about you marrying a stranger. You don't know how many nights I lay in bed and imagined Mr Zargar's murder. The only thing that kept me calm was my trust in you. I knew you would never leave us to follow your heart. I knew you were the best and the most sacrificing mother in the world and that you would never exchange us for anything and would always choose us over everything. I don't understand what has happened now and how this man has affected you so much that you have forgotten all about us.'

‘I never have and I never will forget you,' I said. ‘And you are a grown man, so stop talking like a boy with an Oedipus complex. As long as you were young and needed me, it was my duty to dedicate my life to you. I don't know to what extent that was the right thing to do, but I knew that young boys like you and Siamak wouldn't easily accept the presence of a stepfather, even if he was a great guide for you and helped me through the difficulties of life. At the time, the only thing that mattered to me was your comfort and happiness. But now, the situation is very different. You have all grown up, I have done my duty to the best of my ability and you no longer need me. Don't you think that I finally have the right to think about my own life, to make decisions for my own future and to do what makes me happy? In fact, it would be easier for you, too. You will not have to deal with the problems of an ageing, lonely mother who will naturally become more demanding and testy as time wears on.'

‘No, Mum, please don't say that,' Massoud said. ‘You are our pride and honour. To me, you are still the most precious person on the face of the earth and to my dying day I will be your slave and do whatever you need or want. I swear, the only reason I haven't come to see you in a few days is because I have been so terribly busy, but all my thoughts are with you.'

‘That is exactly what I mean!' I said. ‘You are a married man and a father and you have a mountain of problems and responsibilities, so why should all your thoughts be with your mother? All three of you have to think about your own lives. I don't want to be a cause for worry, an obligation, or a burden. I want you to see that I am not alone, that I am happy and that you don't need to worry about me.'

‘There is no need for that,' Massoud argued. ‘We will not leave you alone. With love and respect, we want to be at your service and will try to make up for a tiny bit of all that you have done for us.'

‘My dear, I don't want that! You don't owe me anything. I just want to live the rest of my life with someone who can give me the peace and tranquillity I have always dreamed of. Is that a lot to ask for?'

‘Mother, I am surprised at you. Why can't you understand how dreadful a plight this will be for us?'

‘A dreadful plight? Would I be doing something immoral and ungodly?'

‘Mother, it would be against tradition, which is just as bad. News of this is going to explode like a bomb. Do you realise what a scandal and embarrassment it would be for us? What would my friends, colleagues and employees say? Even worse, will I ever again be able to hold my head up in front of Atefeh's family?' Then he quickly turned to his sister and said, ‘Shirin, make sure you never mention any of this in front of Atefeh.'

‘And what will happen if she finds out?' I asked.

‘What will happen? She will lose all the respect she has for you. The idol I have made of you for her will shatter. She will tell her parents and everyone at the ministry will find out.'

‘So what?'

‘Do you know what they will say behind my back?'

‘No, what will they say?'

‘They will say, “At his age, Mr Manager has a new stepfather. Last night, he put his mother's hand in the hands of some good-for-nothing jerk.” How could I ever live with the shame?'

There was a lump in my throat. I couldn't talk any more; I couldn't stand them talking like that about my pure and beautiful love. My head was throbbing. I went inside, took a couple of painkillers and sat in the dark on the sofa, leaning my head back.

Shirin and Massoud talked for a while longer out on the balcony. Massoud wanted to leave and they came back inside. While seeing him off, Shirin said, ‘It's all Aunt Parvaneh's fault. She is just clueless. Poor Mum would never even think of such a thing. She talked Mum into it.'

‘I never liked Aunt Parvaneh,' Massoud said. ‘I always found her to be vulgar. She never observes decorum. That night at our house, she tried to shake hands with Mr Maghsoudi! The poor man was so flustered and upset. You can be sure if Aunt Parvaneh was in Mum's place she would have remarried a hundred times by now.'

I got up, turned on a small lamp and said, ‘This has nothing to do with Parvaneh. Every human being has the right to decide how to live his or her life.'

‘Yes, Mum, you have that right,' Massoud said. ‘But would you want to exercise it at the cost of your children's honour and reputation?'

‘I have a headache and I want to go to bed,' I said. ‘And I think you are late. It is best that you go see to your wife and child.'

 

Despite the sedatives I took, I spent the night restless and agitated. Conflicting thoughts flung me back and forth. On the one hand, the knowledge that I would be hurting my children made me feel guilty. Massoud's tired and troubled face and Shirin's tears would not let me go. On the other hand, the fantasy of freedom beckoned to me. Oh how I needed for once in my life to unchain myself from all responsibility and to fly free in this big world. My heart's desire, the love I felt for Saiid, and my fear of losing him again were crushing my heart.

Morning came, but I didn't have the energy to get out of bed. The telephone rang several times. Shirin answered, but the caller hung up. I knew it was Saiid. He was worried, but he didn't want to talk to Shirin. Again the telephone rang; this time Shirin said a cold hello and then rudely barked, ‘Mum, it's Mrs Parvaneh, pick up.'

I picked up the telephone.

‘So now I am Mrs Parvaneh!' she said. ‘Shirin almost swore at me!'

‘I am so sorry. Don't take it to heart.'

‘Oh, I don't care,' Parvaneh said. ‘But tell me, how are you?'

‘Awful. This headache just won't go away.'

‘Does Massoud know, too? Is he taking it as badly as Shirin?'

‘Much worse.'

‘What selfish kids! The only thing they don't care about is your happiness. They just don't understand… It's your own fault for always sacrificing yourself and giving in to them. They've become so impudent they can't even imagine that you have rights, too. Well, what are you going to do now?'

‘I don't know,' I said. ‘For now, let me pull myself together a little.'

‘Poor Saiid is half dead with worry. He says he hasn't heard from you in two days. Every time he calls, Shirin answers the telephone. He doesn't know what the situation is and whether he should talk to her or keep his distance for now.'

‘Tell him not to call. I will call him myself later on.'

‘Do you want the three of us to go for a walk in the park later this afternoon?' Parvaneh asked.

‘No, I'm not in the mood.'

‘I'm here for only a few more days and Saiid is leaving soon, too.'

‘I can't, I really don't feel well,' I said. ‘I can barely stand. Tell him I said hello. I'll call you later.'

Shirin was leaning against the door, looking furious, and listening to my conversation. I hung up and said, ‘Do you want something?'

‘No…'

‘Then why are you standing there like hell's doorman?'

‘Wasn't Mrs Parvaneh supposed to run along and leave? Isn't she clearing out of here?'

‘Watch your mouth!' I snapped. ‘You should be ashamed of yourself, talking like that about your aunt.'

‘What aunt? I have only one aunt, Aunt Faati.'

‘Enough! If you talk about Parvaneh like this one more time, you'll have it coming! Do you understand?'

‘My apologies!' Shirin said sarcastically. ‘I didn't know Mrs Parvaneh enjoyed such a lofty position in your eyes.'

‘Yes, she does. Now, leave. I want to sleep.'

It was around noon when Siamak called. It was strange. He never called at that hour. Shirin and Massoud must have been in such a hurry to give him the news that they hadn't even waited for him to get home from work. After an icy hello he said, ‘What is all this I hear from the kids?'

‘All what?' I asked.

‘That you want to get hitched.'

Hearing my own son speak to me in that tone was excruciating. Still, I firmly said, ‘Is there a problem with that?'

‘Of course, there is a problem. After a husband like my father, how can you even speak another man's name? You are being unfaithful to his memory. Unlike Massoud and Shirin, I will neither lose my honour nor do I find it strange that a woman your age would want to get married. But I cannot stand by and allow the memory of my martyred father to be mired in muck. All his followers look to us to preserve his memory, and you want to bring some tramp to sit in his place?'

‘Do you hear yourself, Siamak? Which followers? You talk as if your father was a prophet! Not one in a million Iranians has ever even heard of your father. Why do you always boast and exaggerate? I know the people around you encourage you and, being simple and gullible, you enjoy playing the role of a hero's son. But, my dear, open your eyes. People love creating heroes. They make someone big so that they can hide behind him, so that he will speak for them, so that in case of danger he will be their shield, suffer their punishments and give them time to escape. And that is exactly what they did with your father. They put him at the head of the line and cheered him on, but when he ended up in prison, they all ran away, and when he was killed, they denied having ever had anything to do with him. And afterwards, they only criticised him and listed his mistakes. And what did all your father's heroisms bring us? Who knocked on our door to ask how the family of their hero was faring in life? The most daring and fearless among them barely mumbled a hello if they ran into us on the street.

‘No, my son, you don't need a hero. I could understand your obsession while you were a boy, but now you are a grown man and you neither need to be a hero, nor do you need to follow one. Stand on your own two feet and rely on your own intelligence and knowledge to choose the leaders you want to support, and the instant you think they are heading in the wrong direction, take back your vote. You should not follow any person or ideology that asks you to blindly accept everything. You don't need myths. Let your children see you as a man with a solid character who will protect them, not as someone who still needs to be protected.'

‘Ugh!… Mum, you never understood the magnitude of Father's greatness and the importance of his struggle.'

Every time he wanted to make a giant of Hamid, Dad would become Father; as if the word dad was too small for that titan.

‘And you never understood the misery I suffered because of him,' I said. ‘Son, open your eyes. Be a realist. Your father was a good man, but at least when it came to his family he had weaknesses and failings, too. No human being is perfect.'

‘Whatever my father did, he did it for the people,' Siamak argued. ‘He wanted to create a socialist country where there would be equality, justice and freedom.'

‘Yes, and I saw how the country he looked to, the Soviet Union, was ripped apart after only seventy years. Its people were ill for the lack of freedom. The day that country was dissolved, I cried for days, and for months I asked myself what exactly did your father die for? You never saw the citizens of that superpower's southern republics who came to Iran desperately looking for work; you never saw how bedraggled, confused and ignorant they were. Was that the Medina he gave his life for? I am happy he never lived to see what became of the mainspring of his hopes.'

‘Mother, what do you know about politics and political issues? And besides, I didn't call to argue with you about this. The problem is you and what it is you are planning to do. I really cannot bear to see anyone take my father's place. That's all.'

And he hung up.

Arguing with Siamak was useless. His problem was not me, his problem was his father, and I had to be sacrificed before that idol.

 

Late that afternoon, Massoud, Atefeh and their adorable son who always reminded me of Massoud's childhood came to the apartment. I took my grandson from Atefeh and said, ‘My dear Atefeh, welcome. I haven't seen this fair-haired boy in a while.'

‘It's all Massoud's fault,' she said. ‘He is so busy at work. Today, he cancelled a meeting and came home early. He said he wanted to come visit you because you were not feeling well. I hadn't seen you for a while and I was bored at home, so I forced him to let me come, too.'

‘You did well. I missed you and this little boy.'

‘I'm sorry you haven't been well,' Atefeh said. ‘What is wrong?'

‘Nothing really,' I said. ‘I just had an awful headache, but these kids make it sound so much worse. I certainly didn't want to cause you any trouble.'

Massoud said, ‘Please, Mum, it is no trouble at all. It is our duty. You have to forgive me for having been so busy lately that I have neglected you and not taken care of you.'

‘I am not a child for you to take care of me,' I said dryly. ‘I am still on my feet and you have your own wife and child to take care of. I don't want you to leave work and come here just to perform your duty. It makes me even more uncomfortable.'