The Book of Fate (11 page)

The eldest sister, trying to speak slowly so that Mother would fully understand, said, ‘Truth be told, the issue isn't what is permissible and what is not. The issue is that Hamid is travelling right now. We have seen the young lady and our decision is Hamid's decision. And we have brought a photograph of him for the young lady to see.'

‘What…?' Mother exclaimed, again. ‘How could that be? What if the groom has a problem or a defect?'

‘Madam, bite your tongue! My son is as good and as healthy as can be. God forbid that he has a problem! Isn't that so, Mrs Parvin? After all, Mrs Parvin has seen him.'

‘Yes. Yes. I've seen him. God bless him, there is nothing wrong with him and he is very handsome. Of course, I looked at him with the eyes of a sister.'

The eldest sister took a photograph out of her handbag and gave it to Mrs Parvin who in turn held it up to Mother's eyes and said, ‘See how gracious and gentlemanly he looks? May God bless him.'

‘Now, please show the photograph to the young lady,' the eldest sister said. ‘If, God willing, she takes a fancy to him, we can wrap things up by next week.'

‘Please, madam,' Father said. ‘I still don't understand the reason for all this rush. Why don't we wait until the young man returns?'

‘Well, truth be told, Mr Sadeghi, we really don't have time. His father and I are leaving on a pilgrimage to Mecca next week and we want to settle all our duties and obligations before we go. Hamid pays no mind to himself and if he's not married I will worry and I won't have peace of mind. It has always been said that people who leave for Haj should leave nothing half done. They should settle all their affairs and responsibilities. When we heard about your daughter, I resorted to divination and the result was favourable. It had never turned out this positive for a girl. And I realised that I have to finalise things before I leave, just in case I don't come back.'

‘God willing, you will come back healthy and happy.'

Still holding the photograph, Mother got up and said, ‘You are so fortunate. I hope visiting God's home will be in our destiny, too.' Then she came into the room next door and held the photograph in front of me. ‘Here, take a look. They're not our type of people, but I know you prefer their kind.'

I pushed her hand away.

The discussions took place at a fast pace. Father seemed convinced that the groom's presence was not necessary after all. It was very strange. They wanted to hold a wedding in a week's time. Mother's only worry was how to get everything done in such short a time. But Mrs Parvin came to her aid and volunteered to take care of everything.

‘Don't worry at all,' she said. ‘We'll go shopping tomorrow. And it will take me only two days to make her dress. I will take care of your other sewing needs as well.'

‘But what about her trousseau and dowry? Of course, since the day my girls were born, I have been buying the necessities and setting them aside, but there are still a lot of things missing. And much of what I have for her is back in Qum. We have to go get them.'

The groom's mother said, ‘Madam, please don't worry. Let the couple go to their home. We'll celebrate the consummation of their marriage after we return from Haj. By then, we will have time to arrange for whatever they need. Besides, Hamid does have some household things.'

They arranged for us to go and buy my wedding ring the following day, and invited the entire family to visit them any night we were free so that we could see their home and lifestyle at first hand and get to know them. I couldn't believe the speed with which everything had got so serious. I suddenly heard myself say, ‘Saiid, save me! How can I put a stop to this?' I was furious with Mrs Parvin and wanted to rip her head off.

As soon as the groom's family left, discussions and arguments started. ‘I won't go to buy the ring because his mother isn't going either,' Mother announced. ‘And Massoumeh can't go alone. Mrs Parvin, you go with her.'

‘Yes, of course. And we also have to buy fabric for her dress. By the way, don't forget, you have to buy the groom's ring.'

‘I still don't understand why the groom didn't come and show himself.'

‘Don't let bad feelings into your heart. I know the family. You won't believe what nice people they are. They gave you their address, to put your mind at ease, and you can go ask around about them.'

‘Mostafa, what are we going to do about her trousseau?' Mother said. ‘You and the boys have to go to Qum to bring the chinaware and the several sets of bedding I've put aside for her. They're in the basement at your sister's house. But what are we going to do about the rest of the things she needs?'

‘Don't worry,' Mrs Parvin said. ‘They did say it isn't important. Besides, it's their own fault for being in such a rush. All the better for you. You can blame them for whatever is missing.'

‘I'm not going to send my daughter to her husband's house stripped and naked,' Father snapped. ‘We have some of the necessities and we'll buy the rest this week. And everything else we'll provide in good time.'

The only person who had no role in these discussions, who never offered a suggestion, who never asked a question, and whose opinion didn't matter, was me. I sat awake all night overwhelmed with sadness and anxiety. I begged God to take my life and save me from that forced marriage.

The next morning I felt very ill. I pretended to be asleep and waited for everyone to leave the house. I heard Father talking to Mother. He wanted to use his contacts and resources to investigate the groom's family and was not going to work that day. And then he said, ‘Missus, I left money on the mantelpiece for the ring. See if it's enough.'

Mother counted the money and said, ‘Yes. I don't think it will cost more than this.'

Father left the house with Ali. Fortunately, since the start of the summer he had been taking Ali to work with him, which meant there was calm and quiet in the house. Otherwise, God knows what would have happened to me.

Mother came into the room and said, ‘Wake up. You have to get ready. I let you sleep longer so that you will have more energy today.'

I sat up, hugged my knees and said with determination, ‘I won't go!' I was bold when the men were not at home.

‘Get up and stop acting like a spoiled child.'

‘I am not going anywhere.'

‘The hell you're not! I'm not about to let you ruin your good luck. Especially not now.'

‘What good luck? Do you even know who these people are? Who is this guy? He's not even willing to show himself.'

Just then the doorbell rang and Mrs Parvin walked in, all made up and chipper and wearing a black chador.

‘I thought I should come early, just in case you need help with anything. By the way, I found a beautiful pattern for a wedding dress. We have to buy an appropriate fabric. Do you want to see it?'

‘Mrs Parvin, help me out,' Mother pleaded. ‘This girl is being stubborn again. Come and see if you can get her going.'

Mrs Parvin took off her high-heeled shoes and came into the room. She laughed and said, ‘Good morning, Miss Bride. Come on, get up and go wash your face. They will be here any minute and we don't want them to think they have a lazy bride, do we?'

Seeing her, anger flared up inside me and I screamed, ‘Who are you anyway? How much are they paying you as the broker?'

Mother slapped herself in the face and cried, ‘May God punish you! Shut up! This girl has swallowed shame and vomited modesty.' And she lunged at me.

Mrs Parvin held out her arm and blocked her way. ‘Please, it's all right. She's just angry. Let me talk to her. You should leave. We'll be ready in half an hour.'

 

Mother left the room. Mrs Parvin closed the door and stood leaning against it. Her chador slipped off and spilled on the floor. She was staring at me, but she wasn't seeing me. She was looking somewhere else, far from that room. A few minutes passed in silence. I watched her with curiosity. When she finally started to speak her voice sounded unfamiliar. It didn't have its usual ring. She sounded bitter and subdued.

‘I was twelve when my father threw my mother out of the house. I was in year six and all of a sudden I found myself mother to my younger brother and three sisters. They expected of me what they expected from their real mother. I ran the household, cooked, washed clothes, cleaned, and tended to the children. My duties were no less after my father remarried. My stepmother was like all stepmothers. I don't mean she tortured us or kept us hungry, but she wanted her own children more than she wanted us. Perhaps she was right.

‘Ever since I was a small child, I was told that when they cut my umbilical cord they had spoken my cousin Amir-Hossein's name. I was to become his wife. That's why my uncle always called me his pretty bride. I don't know when it started, but as far back as I can remember, I was in love with Amir. After my mother left, he was my only consolation. Amir loved me, too. He would always find some excuse to come to our house, sit on the edge of the reflecting pool and watch me work. He used to say, “Your hands are so small. How do you wash all these clothes?” I always left my most difficult chores for when he was around. I liked the way he looked at me with concern and compassion. He would tell my uncle and his wife what a difficult life I was living. Every time my uncle came to our house he would tell my father, “My good man, this poor child deserves pity. You are being cruel. Why does she have to suffer just because you and your wife couldn't get along? Stop being so stubborn. Go take your wife by the hand and bring her back home.”

‘“No, brother. Never. Don't ever speak that hussy's name in front of me. I made sure and divorced her three times so that there would be no way back.”

‘“Then think of something. This child is wasting away.”

‘When saying goodbye, my uncle's wife would always take me in her arms and hold me tight against her chest, and my tears would start to flow. She smelled like my mother. I don't know, perhaps I was just acting spoiled. In any case, my father finally came up with a solution and married a woman who had two children from a previous marriage. Our house was like a kindergarten – seven children of every age and size. I was the eldest. I'm not saying I did everything, but I ran around from morning until night and still there was more work to do; especially since my stepmother was very observant of the codes and tenets of purity and impurity. She really disliked my uncle and his wife, because she thought they had sided with my mother. The first thing she did was to put an end to Amir's visits to our house. She told my father, “It's ridiculous for this jackass to come here all the time to sit around and ogle us. And the girl is now old enough to start covering herself.”

‘A year later, she used us as an excuse to cut off all contact with my uncle's family. I missed them terribly. The only way I could see them was if we all went to my aunt's house. I would beg my cousins to ask my parents' permission for me to spend the night at their house. To make sure my stepmother wouldn't complain, I had to take my brothers and sisters with me. A year passed. Each time I saw Amir he had grown taller. You won't believe how handsome he was. His eyelashes were so long they cast a shadow over his eyes, just like a parasol. He wrote poems for me and bought the lyric sheets to the songs I liked. He would say, “You have a beautiful voice. Learn how to sing this song.” Frankly, I couldn't read and write so well, and I had forgotten the little I had learned while I was still going to school. He used to say he would teach me. What wonderful days. But little by little, my aunt got tired of us always staying at her house. Her husband was constantly complaining. And so we were forced to see less of each other. The following new year, I begged for us to go visit my uncle. My father was about to give in, but my stepmother said, “I won't set foot in that witch's house.”

‘I don't know why my stepmother and my uncle's wife disliked each other so much. Poor me, stuck in the middle. That new year was the last time I saw them. It was at my aunt's house. She arranged it so that my father and my uncle would come face to face. She wanted them to make amends. Everyone was sitting in the upstairs living room. They asked the children to leave. Amir and I went and sat in a room downstairs and the children went to play in the garden. My aunt's daughters were in the kitchen preparing the tea tray. We were alone. Amir took my hand. I suddenly felt hot all over. His hands were warm and his palms were wet. He said, “Parvin, my father and I have talked. This year, after I get my diploma, we will come and ask for your hand. Father said we can get engaged before I go for my military service.” I wanted to jump into his arms and cry with joy. I could hardly breathe.

‘“You mean this summer?”

‘“Yes, if I don't fail any classes, I will graduate.”

‘“For the love of God, don't fail a single class.”

‘“I promise. For you, I will study very hard.”

‘He squeezed my hand and I felt as if he was holding my heart in his grip. He said, “I can't stand being away from you any more.”

‘Oh…! What can I say? I have relived that scene and those words so many times that every second of it is like a movie playing in front of my eyes. Sitting in that room, we were so drowned in our own world that we didn't realise a fight had broken out. By the time we came out into hallway, my father and stepmother were cursing out loud and walking down the stairs, and my uncle's wife was leaning over the banister and countering their curses. My aunt ran after my father and begged him not to behave that way, that it was unseemly, that he and his brother should put aside their differences and make up. She begged them, for the love of their mother's spirit, for the love of their father's spirit, to remember they were brothers and should support each other. She reminded them of the old saying that even if brothers eat each other's flesh, they will never throw away the bones. My father was slowly calming down, but my stepmother screamed, “Didn't you hear the things they said to us? What sort of a brother is he?”