The Book of Fate (6 page)

I opened the window and shouted, ‘No, Mother. I definitely have to go. It's a preparatory exam. Its grade gets added to the grade we get on the actual exam.'

Mother angrily turned her back to me and went to the kitchen. Parvaneh glanced up at me, winked and left.

I immediately started exercising my ankle. The instant I felt pain, I would lie down and put my foot up on a pillow. Instead of massaging my ankle with one egg yolk, I used two, and I doubled the amount of the oils. And in between all this, I grasped every opportunity to read the letter that was now my dearest and most valuable possession.

I kept asking myself, why is his heart a mirror hazy with sorrow? He must have a difficult life. Obviously, working, supporting his mother and three sisters, and studying is a heavy burden. Perhaps if he didn't have all these responsibilities and if his father was still alive, he would come and ask for my hand right now. The doctor said they are a reputable family. I'm even willing to live with him in a dank room. But why did he write that my name suits my face and my character? Wasn't my accepting his letters proof that I was not innocent? Would I have fallen in love if I were truly innocent? But I couldn't help it. I tried not to think of him, not to have my heart beat so fast when I saw him, not to blush, but I couldn't control any of it.

 

On Saturday morning I woke up earlier than usual. In truth, I hardly slept all night. I got dressed and made my bed to prove to everyone that I was no longer ailing. I put aside Grandmother's cane, which had served me well, held onto the banister, climbed down the stairs and sat at the breakfast spread.

‘Are you sure you can go to school?' Father asked. ‘Why don't you let Mahmoud take you there on his motorcycle?'

Mahmoud gave Father a harsh look and said, ‘Father, what are you saying? All we were missing was for her to ride without hijab behind a man on a motorcycle!'

‘But son, she'll be wearing her headscarf. Won't she?'

‘Of course,' I said. ‘When have I ever gone to school without a headscarf?'

‘And you are her brother, not a stranger,' Father added.

‘God have mercy! Father, it seems Tehran has led you astray, too!'

I interrupted Mahmoud and said, ‘Don't worry, Father. Parvaneh is picking me up. She'll help me and we'll walk to school together.'

Mother mumbled something under her breath. And Ahmad, his eyes puffy from the previous night's drinking, with his usual anger barked, ‘Ha! Parvaneh, of all people. I tell you not to hang out with her and you make her your walking stick?'

‘Why? What's wrong with her?'

‘What's not wrong with her?' he sneered. ‘She's vulgar, constantly laughing and giggling, her skirt is too short, and she swings her hips when she walks.'

I turned red and snapped back, ‘Her skirt isn't short at all. It's longer than everyone else's in school. She's an athlete and not one of those girls who strut and sashay. And what's more, how do you know she wiggles her hips when she walks? Why are you looking at another man's daughter?'

‘Shut up or I'll hit you so hard in the mouth that your teeth will fall out! Mother, do you see how impudent she's become?'

‘Enough!' Father roared. ‘I know Mr Ahmadi. He is a very respectable and educated man. Uncle Abbas asked him to mediate when he got into an argument with Abol-Ghassem Solati over the store next door. No one goes against what Mr Ahmadi says. Everyone trusts his word.'

Ahmad, who had turned bright red, turned to Mother and said, ‘Here you are! And then you wonder why the girl has become so impudent. Why shouldn't she be impudent when everyone always takes her side?' Then he turned to me and growled, ‘Go, go with her, sister. As a matter of fact, the girl is decency personified. Go learn respectability from her.'

As luck would have it, just then the doorbell rang. I turned to Faati and said, ‘Tell her I'll be right there.' And to bring the argument to an end, I put on my headscarf as quickly as I could, said a hasty goodbye and limped out.

Out on the street, I felt the cold wind on my face and stood for a few seconds to enjoy the fresh air. It smelled of youth, love and happiness. I leaned on Parvaneh. My ankle still hurt, but I didn't care. I tried to curb my excitement and slowly and quietly we set off for school. From a distance, I saw Saiid standing on the second step in front of the pharmacy, peering down the street. When he saw us, he leaped down the steps and came to greet us. I bit my lip and, realising he shouldn't have done that, he went back and stood on the steps. His eager eyes became sad when he saw my bandaged foot and my limp. My heart wanted to flutter out of my chest and go to him. I felt as if I hadn't seen him in years, but I felt closer to him than I had when we last saw each other. Now, I knew him, I knew what his feelings were for me, and I loved him more than ever before.

When we reached the pharmacy, Parvaneh turned to me and said, ‘You must be tired. Let's stop for a second.'

I put my hand on the wall and discreetly returned Saiid's hello. ‘Does your ankle hurt a lot?' he quietly asked. ‘Would you like me to give you a painkiller?'

‘Thank you. It's much better.'

‘Be careful,' Parvaneh whispered nervously. ‘Your brother Ali is coming.'

We quickly said goodbye and continued on our way.

 

That day we had one hour of physical education, which Parvaneh and I skipped along with another class. We had so much to talk about. When the assistant principal came out into the schoolyard, we ran and hid in the toilets and then we went and sat behind the school's concessions stand. Under the feeble February sun, we read Saiid's letter two or three more times. We praised his gentleness, compassion, civility, penmanship, prose and erudition.

‘Parvaneh, I think I have heart disease,' I said.

‘Why do you think that?'

‘Because my heart doesn't beat normally. I constantly have palpitations.'

‘When you see him or when you don't?'

‘When I see him my heart beats so fast that I start panting.'

‘It isn't heart disease, my dear,' she said laughing. ‘It's love disease. If I, a nobody, feel my heart suddenly sink and beat wildly when he pops up in front of me, I can only imagine what you must be feeling.'

‘Do you think I will still feel this way when we are married?'

‘Silly! If you feel this way after you are married, then you should certainly see a cardiologist, because it will definitely be heart disease.'

‘Oh! I have to wait at least two years until he finishes university. Of course, it's not so bad. By then I will have my diploma.'

‘But he has two years of military service, too,' Parvaneh said. ‘Unless he has already served it.'

‘No, I don't think so. How old is he? He may not have to serve. He is the only son, his father has passed away, and he supports the family.'

‘Maybe. But still, he will have to find a job. Do you think he could manage the expenses of two households? How much do pharmacists earn?'

‘I don't know. But if I have to, I'll go and live with his mother and sisters.'

‘You mean you're willing to move to the provinces and live with your mother-in-law and sisters-in-law?'

‘Of course I'm willing. I would live in hell with him if I have to. And Rezaieh is a nice city. They say it's clean and pretty.'

‘It's better than Tehran?'

‘At least it has a better climate than Qum. Have you forgotten that I grew up there?'

What sweet fantasies. Like all romantic sixteen-year-old girls, I was willing to go anywhere and do anything for Saiid.

Parvaneh and I spent much of that day reading the replies we had written to his letters. We reviewed our drafts and tried to come up with a proper letter. But my fingers were freezing and writing with the paper resting on my schoolbag made my handwriting atrocious. In the end, we decided that I should rewrite the letter that night at home and we would give it to Saiid the next day.

That winter day was one of the most pleasant days of my life. I felt I had the world in the palm of my hand. I had everything. A good friend, true love, youth, beauty and a bright future. I was so happy that I even enjoyed the pain in my ankle. After all, if I had not sprained my ankle, I would not have received those beautiful letters.

By late afternoon, the sky became cloudy and it started to snow. Having sat outside in the cold for several hours, my ankle was now throbbing and I had difficulty walking. On the way back home, much of my weight was on Parvaneh's shoulder and every few steps we had to stop and catch our breath. Finally, we arrived in front of the pharmacy. Saiid, seeing the situation I was in, ran out, held me under the arm and led me inside. The pharmacy was warm and bright and through the tall misty windows the street looked dreary and cold. Dr Ataii was busy helping the customers who had lined up in front of the counter. He was calling them one by one and discussing their medications with them. Everyone's attention was on him and no one was looking at us sitting on the couch in the corner.

Saiid kneeled down in front of me, raised my foot and put it up on the low table in front of the couch. He carefully felt my bandaged ankle. Even through all that dressing, the touch of his hand made me shudder as if I had touched a live wire. It was strange. He was trembling, too. He looked at me kindly and said, ‘It's still very inflamed. You shouldn't have walked on it. I have set aside some ointment and pain medication for you.'

He got up and went behind the counter. I followed him with my eyes. He returned with a glass of water and a pill. I took the pill and as I returned the glass to him he held out another envelope towards me. Our eyes met. Everything we wanted to say was reflected in them. There was no need for words. I forgot my pain. I saw no one but him. Everyone around us had faded in a fog; their voices were muted and incomprehensible. I was deliriously floating in another world when suddenly Parvaneh jabbed me with her elbow.

‘What? What happened?' I asked, confused.

‘Look over there!' she said. ‘Over there!'

And raising her eyebrows, she nodded towards the pharmacy window. I automatically sat up straight and my heart started to pound. Ali was standing outside, peering through the window with his face up close to the glass and his hands shielding his eyes.

Parvaneh turned to me and said, ‘What's the matter? Why are you suddenly as yellow as turmeric?' Then she got up, walked outside and called out, ‘Ali, Ali, come, come help me. Massoumeh's ankle is in a bad way and she's in a lot of pain. I can't take her home by myself.' Ali leered at her and ran off. Parvaneh came back inside and said, ‘Did you see the look he gave me? He wanted to cut my head off!'

 

By the time we made our way home, the sun was setting and it was almost dark. Before I had a chance to ring the doorbell, the door flew open and a hand grabbed me and pulled me in. Parvaneh didn't realise what was happening and tried to follow me. But Mother pounced on her, shoved her back into the street and screamed, ‘I don't ever want to see you around here again. Everything we're suffering is because of you!' And she slammed the door shut.

I tumbled down the steps and landed in the middle of the yard. Ali clawed at my hair and dragged me into the house. All I could think of was Parvaneh. I felt so humiliated. I screamed, ‘Let go of me, you idiot!'

Mother walked in and while cursing and cussing me she pinched my arm really hard.

‘What is the matter?' I cried. ‘What has happened? Have you all gone crazy?'

‘What do you think has happened, you tramp!' Mother screamed. ‘Now you flirt with a stranger right there in public?'

‘Which stranger? My ankle ached; the doctor at the pharmacy examined it and gave me some medicine. That's it! I was dying of pain. And besides, in Islam a doctor is not considered a stranger.'

‘A doctor! A doctor! Since when is the lackey at a store a doctor? Do you think I'm stupid and don't know that you've been up to something lately?'

‘For the love of God, Mother, it's not true.'

Ali kicked me, and with the veins in his neck bulging, he growled hoarsely, ‘Yeah, right! I've been following you every day. The lout stands at the door and keeps looking out, waiting for you ladies to show up. All my friends know. They say, “Your sister and her friend are with this guy.”'

Mother slapped herself on the head and wailed, ‘I pray to God that I see you on the slab in a morgue. Look what shame and dishonour you've brought us. What am I supposed to tell your father and brothers?' And she pinched my arm again.

Just then, the door flew open and Ahmad walked in, glowering at me with bloodshot eyes, his hands knotted in a fist. He had heard everything.

‘So you finally did it?' he snarled. ‘Here you are, Mother. She's all yours. I knew from the start that if she set foot in Tehran and got gussied up every day and went around the streets with that girl, in the end she'd bring us nothing but shame. Now how are you going to hold your head up in front of friends and neighbours?'

‘What have I done wrong?' I screamed. ‘I swear on Father's life, I was about to fall on the street, they took me into the pharmacy and gave me a painkiller.'

Mother looked at my foot. It was so swollen it looked like a pillow. She barely touched it and I hollered in pain.

‘Don't bother with her,' Ahmad snapped. ‘With all the scandal she's created, you still want to pamper her?'

‘Scandal? Is it I who have caused a scandal or is it you, coming home drunk every night and carrying on with a married woman?'

Ahmad lunged at me and struck me in the mouth with the back of his hand so hard that my mouth filled with blood. I went crazy. I screamed, ‘Am I lying? I saw you with my own eyes. Her husband wasn't home and you snuck into their house. And it wasn't the first time either.' Another blow landed under my eye and made me dizzy. For an instant I thought I had gone blind.