The Book of Fate (7 page)

Mother screamed, ‘Shut up, girl! Have some shame.'

‘Just wait until I tell her husband,' I shouted.

Mother ran over and covered my mouth with her hand. ‘Didn't I tell you to shut up?'

I pulled away from her and, filled with rage, I yelled, ‘Can't you tell that he comes home drunk every night? Twice the police have taken him to the station because he pulled a knife on someone. These aren't scandals, but if I take a pill at the pharmacy I've brought you shame!'

Two consecutive slaps made my ears ring, but I couldn't control myself, I couldn't quieten down.

‘Shut up. May God strike you with diphtheria. The difference is that you're a girl!' Mother burst into tears, held her arms up to the sky and pleaded, ‘O God, save me! To whom can I turn? Girl, I pray you suffer. I pray you get torn into pieces.'

I was slumped on the floor in the corner of the room. I felt utterly despondent and tears were welling in my eyes. Ali and Ahmad were out in the front yard, whispering together. Mother's tearful voice interrupted them. ‘Ali, that's enough. Shut up.'

But Ali was not finished reporting to Ahmad. I wondered how he had gathered so much information.

Again, Mother barked, ‘Ali, I said that's enough! Run out and buy some bread.' And finally, with a smack on the head she ushered him out.

I heard Father's greeting as he walked into the front yard and Mother's usual response.

‘Oh! You're home early, Agha Mostafa…'

‘No one goes shopping in this cold, so I decided to close early,' Father replied. ‘What's the matter? You look nervous. I see Ahmad's home, too. How about Mahmoud?'

‘No, Mahmoud hasn't come home yet. That's why I'm worried. He always comes home before you do.'

‘He didn't take his motorcycle today,' Father said. ‘Traffic is bad and he probably can't find a taxi. There's snow and ice everywhere. It seems winter doesn't want to end this year… So I see the Armenian closed his place early, too, and somebody decided to come home.'

Father rarely spoke to Ahmad and when he made snide remarks about him it was always as an indirect insinuation.

Sitting on the edge of the reflecting pool, Ahmad retorted, ‘As a matter of fact, he didn't close early. But I'm not going out until I know where I stand with all of you.'

Father held on to the door frame and started taking off his shoes. The light from the hallway only partially lit the room. I was on the floor, next to the
korsi
, and he couldn't see me. He quipped, ‘So! Instead of us figuring out where we stand with the gentleman, the gentleman wants to determine where he stands with us.'

‘Not with you, with that nefarious daughter of yours.'

Father's face turned as white as chalk.

‘Watch your mouth,' he warned. ‘Your sister's honour is your honour. Have some shame.'

‘Forget it! She's made sure we have no honour left. Pull your head out of the snow, Father, and stop hounding me. Your big tub of shame has tumbled to the ground. Everyone in the neighbourhood heard it fall, except for you who have stuffed cotton wool in your ears and don't want to hear.'

Father was visibly shaking. Terrified, Mother pleaded, ‘Ahmad, my dear. Ahmad! May God let me sacrifice my life for you, may all that ails and troubles you be inflicted on me, don't say such things. Your father will drop dead. Nothing has happened. Her ankle hurt and they gave her a pill.'

Having regained his composure, Father said, ‘Leave him alone. Let me hear what he has to say.'

‘Why don't you ask your pampered daughter?' Ahmad said, pointing to the room, and Father's eyes turned searchingly towards me. He couldn't see properly and he reached out and turned on the light. I don't know how I looked, but he suddenly sounded terrified.

‘Dear God! What have they done to you?' he gasped as he rushed over and helped me sit up. Then he took his handkerchief from his pocket and wiped the blood from the corners of my mouth. His handkerchief had the cool scent of rosewater.

‘Who did this to you?' he asked.

My tears started to flow faster.

‘You vile scoundrel, you raised your hand to a woman?' he shouted at Ahmad.

‘Here you go,' Ahmad retorted. ‘So now I'm the guilty one! Forget about chastity and virtue. We have none. So what if she ends up in the hands of anyone and everyone. From now on, I have to wear a cad's hat.'

I didn't know at what point Mahmoud had arrived home. But just then, I saw him standing midway between the house and the yard, looking confused. Mother intervened and while draping her chador over her shoulders she said, ‘That's enough! Now say praise to the Prophet and his descendants. I want to serve dinner. You, stand aside. And you, take this tablecloth and spread it on the floor over there. Faati? Faati? Where are you, you imp?'

Faati had been there the entire time, but no one had noticed her. She emerged from the shadows behind the stack of bedding in the corner of the room and ran to the kitchen. A few minutes later, she walked back carrying the dinner plates and gently put them on top of the
korsi
.

Father finished examining the cut on the side of my mouth, my bruised eye and bloody nose, and asked, ‘Who did this to you? Ahmad? Damn him.' Then he turned towards the yard and shouted, ‘You lout, am I dead for you to now treat my wife and child like this? Even Shemr who slayed Imam Hossein in Kerbela didn't do this to wives and daughters.'

‘Well! Well! So now the lady is all pure and holy and I'm worse than Shemr. Father, your daughter has left you no honour. You may not care, but I do. I still have a reputation among people. Wait until Ali comes back. Ask him what he saw. The lady flirting with the pharmacy lackey for the world to see!'

‘Father! Father, I swear to God he's lying,' I pleaded. ‘I swear on your life, I swear on Grandmother's grave, my ankle hurt, it was as bad as it was on the first day, I was about to collapse in the street, Parvaneh dragged me to the pharmacy. They put my foot up and gave me a painkiller. Besides, Ali was there, too, but when Parvaneh called him to come and help, he ran off. And then the minute I got home they all attacked me.'

I started to weep. Mother was in the room arranging the dinner plates. Mahmoud was leaning on the shelf above me and observing the commotion with uncharacteristic calm. Ahmad ran inside, stood in the doorway, grabbed hold of the door frame and yelled wildly, ‘Say it, say it! The guy put your leg on the table and touched and fondled you. Say that you were laughing the entire time. Flirting. Say that he waits for you on the street every day and says hello to you, plays up to you…'

Mahmoud's temper changed. His face flushed and he mumbled something. All I heard was, ‘May God have mercy.' Father turned and looked at me questioningly.

‘Father, Father, I swear on this blessing' – Ali had just walked in with freshly baked bread and its scent had filled the room – ‘he is lying, he is badmouthing me because I found out that he sneaks over to Mrs Parvin's house.'

Again Ahmad lunged towards me, but Father shielded me with his arm and warned, ‘Don't you raise your hand to her! The things you said can't be true. Her principal told me there is no girl as decent and as innocent as Massoumeh in their school.'

‘Yeah!' Ahmad sneered. ‘Their school must be a chastity house.'

‘Shut up! Watch your mouth.'

‘Father, he is right,' Ali said. ‘I saw it myself. The guy put her leg up on the table and massaged it.'

‘No, Father. I swear. He only held my shoe, and my ankle is so heavily bandaged that no one's hand could possibly touch it. Besides, a doctor isn't considered a stranger. Isn't that right, Father? He just asked me, “Where does it hurt?”'

‘Just!' Ahmad said. ‘And, of course, we believe you. Look how a scrawny, forty-kilo piece of bird dropping is twirling us on her fingertips. You may fool Father, but I'm shrewder than you think.'

‘Shut up, Ahmad, or I will give you a good wallop in the mouth,' Father said.

‘Come on! What are you waiting for? All you know how to do is beat us. Ali, why have you kept quiet? Tell them what you told me.'

‘I've seen the lackey at the pharmacy stand outside and wait for them every day,' Ali reported. ‘And as soon as they come, he says hello and they answer him. And then they whisper and giggle together.'

‘He's lying. I haven't been to school in ten days. Why are you making up these lies? Yes, whenever he sees Parvaneh, he says hello to her. He knows her father and prepares his medications and gives them to her.'

‘May that girl's grave burn in flames,' Mother said, beating her chest. ‘This is all her doing.'

‘Then why do you let her in the house?' Ahmad snapped. ‘Didn't I tell you not to?'

‘What can I do?' Mother said. ‘She comes over and they sit and read their books together.'

Ali pulled Ahmad's arm and whispered something in his ear.

‘Why are you whispering?' Father asked. ‘Say it out loud for everyone to hear.'

‘They're not reading books, Mother,' Ali said. ‘They're reading something else. The other day, I walked in on them and they quickly hid some papers under their legs. They think they're dealing with a child!'

‘Go, go and look through her books and see if you can find them,' Ahmad said.

‘I looked for them before she came home. They weren't there.'

My heart was beating furiously. What if they found my schoolbag? Everything would be lost. I cautiously turned my eyes and looked around the room. My schoolbag was on the floor behind me. Slowly, carefully, I pushed it under the blanket draped over the
korsi
. Mahmoud's cold voice broke the few seconds of silence.

‘Whatever it is, it's in her schoolbag. She just slipped it under the blanket.'

I felt as though a bucket of ice water had poured over my head. I couldn't speak. Ali dove down, pulled the bag out and emptied it out on top of the
korsi
. There was nothing I could do. I felt dizzy and paralysed. He violently shook the books and the letters fell out on the floor. With one leap, Ahmad picked them up and quickly unfolded one. He looked elated. He looked as if he had just received the greatest award in the world.

His voice shaking with excitement, he said, ‘Here you are, here you are, Father. Listen and enjoy.'

And he started to read in a mocking tone.

‘Respectable young lady, I have yet to allow myself…'

I was writhing with humiliation, fear and anger. The world was whirling around my head. Ahmad wasn't able to read some parts of the letter. He was halfway through when Mother asked, ‘What does that mean, son?'

‘It means when he lovingly looks into her eyes… she is pure and innocent. Right!'

‘May God take my life!' Mother gasped.

‘Now listen to this. “My heart is I-don't-know-what with sorrow, with your smile…” You shameless hussy! I'll show him a smile he'll never forget.'

‘Look, look, here's another one,' Ali said. ‘It's her reply.'

Ahmad snatched the letter from him.

‘Wonderful! The lady has written back.'

Mahmoud, red in the face and with veins bulging on his neck, yelled, ‘Didn't I tell you? Didn't I tell you? A girl who fixes herself up and goes wandering around the streets in a city filled with wolves isn't going to stay pure and untouched. I kept telling you to marry her off, but you said, no, she has to go to school. Yeah, to go to school to learn how to write love letters.'

I had no defence. I had no weapon left. I surrendered. I looked at Father with dread and anxiety. His lips were quivering and he looked so pale that I thought he was about to collapse. He turned his dark, dazed eyes towards me. Contrary to my expectation, there was no anger in them. Instead, I saw profound sorrow rippling in the gleam of an unshed tear. ‘Is this how you pay me back?' he muttered. ‘You really kept your promise. You really kept my honour.'

That look and those words were more painful than all the beating I had received and they pierced my heart like a dagger. Tears flowed down my cheeks and in a shaky voice I said, ‘But I swear, I didn't do anything wrong.'

Father turned his back to me and said, ‘That's enough. Shut up!'

And he walked out of the house without his coat. I understood what his walking out meant. He had withdrawn all his support and left me in the hands of the others.

Ahmad was still leafing through the letters. I knew he couldn't read well and Saiid had written in cursive script, which made it all the more difficult. But he acted as if he understood everything and was trying to hide his delight behind a mask of anger. A few minutes later, he turned to Mahmoud and said, ‘Now what are we going to do about this scandal? The bastard thinks we're spineless curs. Wait, I'll teach him a lesson he'll never forget. I won't stop until I spill his blood. Run, Ali. Go fetch my knife. His blood is my right, isn't that so, Mahmoud? He has had designs on our sister. Here's proof and evidence. In his own handwriting. Hurry up, Ali. It's in the closet upstairs…'

‘No, leave him alone!' I screamed in horror. ‘He hasn't done anything wrong.'

Ahmad laughed and with a calm I had not seen in him in a long time he turned to Mother and said, ‘Mother, do you see, do you see how she is defending her lover? Her blood, too, is my right. Isn't that so, Mahmoud?'

With her eyes brimming with tears, Mother beat her chest and cried, ‘God, see what ruin has befallen me? Girl, may God make you suffer. What shamelessness was this? I wish you had died instead of Zari. Look at what you've done to me.'

Ali came running downstairs with the knife. Ahmad nonchalantly got up, as if he was going to run a simple errand. He straightened his trousers, took the knife and held it in front of me.

‘What part of him do you want me to bring back for you?'