The Book of Fate (3 page)

Parvaneh made a beautiful opinions scrapbook. Her cousin who had nice handwriting wrote the subject headings for each page and Parvaneh pasted an appropriate picture next to them. All the girls in class, her relatives and a few of her family friends wrote their answers to each question. The comments in response to questions such as what is your favourite colour or what is your favourite book weren't all that interesting. But the answers to what is your opinion about love, have you ever been in love and what key characteristics should an ideal spouse have, were fascinating. Some people blatantly wrote whatever they wanted, without considering what would happen if the scrapbook ended up in the school principal's hands.

I made a poetry scrapbook and I would write my favourite poems in it in neat handwriting. Sometimes I drew a picture next to them or pasted in one of the pictures Parvaneh cut out of foreign magazines for me.

 

One bright autumn afternoon when Parvaneh and I were walking back from school, she asked me to go to the pharmacy with her so that she could buy an adhesive bandage. The pharmacy was midway between school and home. Dr Ataii, the pharmacist, was a dignified old man whom everyone knew and respected. When we walked in, there was no one behind the counter. Parvaneh called out to the doctor and stood on tiptoes to peer behind the counter. A young man wearing a white uniform was kneeling down, arranging the medicine boxes on the bottom shelves. He got up and asked, ‘May I help you?'

Parvaneh said, ‘I need an adhesive bandage.'

‘Of course. I'll bring one right away.'

Parvaneh jabbed me in the side and whispered, ‘Who is he? He's so handsome!'

The young man gave Parvaneh a bandage and as she kneeled down to take money out of her schoolbag she whispered, ‘Hey!… Look at him. He's so good-looking.'

I looked up at the young man and for an instant our eyes met. A strange sensation ran through my body, I felt my face turn bright red, and I quickly looked down. It was the first time I had experienced such a strange feeling. I turned to Parvaneh and said, ‘Come on, let's go.' And I rushed out of the pharmacy.

Parvaneh ran out after me and said, ‘What's the matter with you? Haven't seen a human being before?'

‘I was embarrassed,' I said.

‘Of what?'

‘Of the things you say about a man who's a stranger.'

‘So what?'

‘So what? It's really unseemly. I think he heard you.'

‘No he didn't. He heard nothing. And, what exactly did I say that was so bad?'

‘That he's handsome and…'

‘Come on!' Parvaneh said. ‘Even if he heard me, he was probably flattered. But between you and me, after I took a better look at him I realised he's not all that good-looking. I have to tell my father that Dr Ataii has hired an assistant.'

The next day we were a little late going to school. But as we hurried past the pharmacy, I saw the young man watching us. On our way back, we looked in through the window. He was busy working, but it seemed as if he could see us. From that day on, in keeping with an unspoken agreement, we saw each other every morning and every afternoon. And Parvaneh and I found a new and exciting subject to talk about. Soon, news of him spread through the school. The girls were all talking about the handsome young man who had started working at the pharmacy and they came up with all sorts of excuses to go there and somehow attract his attention.

Parvaneh and I got used to seeing him every day and I could swear that he, too, waited for us to walk by. We would argue about which actor he resembled the most and in the end decided that he looked like Steve McQueen. I had come a long way. By then, I knew the names of famous foreign actors. Once I forced Mother to go to the cinema with me. She really enjoyed it. From then on, once a week and unbeknownst to Mahmoud, we would go to the cinema at the corner. It mostly featured Indian films, which made Mother and me cry like rain from the clouds.

Parvaneh was quick to find information about the assistant pharmacist. Dr Ataii who was friends with her father had said, ‘Saiid is a student of pharmacology at the university. He's a good kid. He's from Rezaieh.'

From then on, the looks we exchanged became more familiar and Parvaneh came up with a nickname for him – Haji Worrywart. She said, ‘He looks like he's always waiting and worried, as if he's searching for someone.'

 

That year was the best year of my life. Everything was going my way. I was studying hard, my friendship with Parvaneh was growing stronger every day and we were gradually becoming one soul in two bodies. The only thing that darkened my bright and happy days was my horror of the whispers around the house that became more frequent as the end of the school year approached and which could put a stop to my education.

‘It's impossible,' Parvaneh said. ‘They would never do that to you.'

‘You don't understand. They don't care whether I am doing well at school or not. They say anything beyond the first three years of secondary school doesn't do a girl any good.'

‘The first three years?!' Parvaneh said, surprised. ‘These days even a school diploma isn't enough any more. All the girls in my family are going to university. Of course, only the ones who passed the entrance exams. You will definitely pass. You're smarter than them.'

‘Forget about university! I wish they would just let me finish secondary school.'

‘Well, you have to stand up to them.'

The things Parvaneh said! She had no idea what my circumstances were. I could stand up to Mother, talk back to her and defend myself. But I didn't have the courage to be as outspoken in front of my brothers.

At the end of the last term we took our final exams and I became the second top student in my class. Our literature teacher really liked me and when we received our report cards she said, ‘Well done! You're very talented. What field of study are you going to pursue?'

‘My dream is to study literature,' I said.

‘That's excellent. As a matter of fact, I was going to suggest it to you.'

‘But ma'am, I can't. My family is against it. They say three years of secondary school is enough for a girl.'

Mrs Bahrami frowned, shook her head and walked into the administration office. A few minutes later she came out with the school principal. The principal took my report card and said, ‘Sadeghi, tell your father to come to school tomorrow. I would like to see him. And tell him I won't give you your report card unless he comes. Don't forget!'

That night when I told Father that the school principal wanted to see him, he was surprised. He asked, ‘What have you done?'

‘I swear, nothing.'

Then he turned to Mother and said, ‘Missus, go to the school and see what they want.'

‘No, Father, that won't do,' I said. ‘They want to see you.'

‘What do you mean? I'm not going to walk into a girls' school!'

‘Why? All the other fathers come. They said if you don't come, they won't give me my report card.'

He knotted his eyebrows in a deep frown. I poured tea for him and tried to endear myself a little. ‘Father, do you have a headache? Do you want me to bring you your pills?' I tucked a floor cushion behind him and brought him a glass of water. In the end, he agreed to go to school with me the next day.

When we walked into the principal's office, she got up from behind her desk, greeted Father warmly and offered him a seat close to her. ‘I congratulate you, your daughter is very special,' she said. ‘Not only is she doing well in her classes, but she is very well mannered and pleasant.' Still standing at the door, I looked down and involuntarily smiled. The principal turned to me and said, ‘My dear Massoumeh, please wait outside. I'd like to speak with Mr Sadeghi.'

I don't know what she said to him, but when Father walked out, his face was flushed, his eyes were twinkling and he was looking at me with kindness and pride. He said, ‘Let's go to the supervisor's office right now and enrol you for next year. I don't have time to come back later.'

I was so happy I thought I would faint. Walking behind him, I kept saying, ‘Thank you, Father. I love you. I promise to be the top student in class. I'll do whatever you ask. May God let me give my life for you.'

He laughed and said, ‘Enough! I only wish your indolent brothers had a tiny bit of you in them.'

Parvaneh was waiting outside. She had been so worried she hadn't slept a wink the night before. With signs and gestures she asked, what happened? I put on a sad face, shook my head and shrugged. It was as if her tears were waiting behind her eyes, because all of a sudden they started to roll down her face. I ran over to her, took her in my arms and said, ‘No! I lied. It's all right. I'm registered for next year.'

Out in the schoolyard, we were jumping up and down, laughing like lunatics and wiping away our tears.

 

Father's decision raised havoc at home. Still, he stood firm and said, ‘The school principal said she is very talented and will become someone important.' And I, delirious and giddy, didn't care what any of them said. Even Ahmad's hatred-filled leers didn't frighten me.

Summer came and although it meant that Parvaneh and I would again be apart, I was happy with the knowledge that the next school year would bring us together again. We spent only one week in Qum, and every week Parvaneh found some excuse to visit Tehran with her father and came to see me. She kept insisting that I go with them to Golab-Darreh for a few days. I really wanted to go, but I knew my brothers would never agree and so I didn't even bring up the subject. Parvaneh said that if her father spoke to my father, he could convince him to let me go. But I didn't want to create more headaches for Father. I knew saying no to Mr Ahmadi was difficult for him, as was having to deal with the fights and arguments at home. Instead, to gain Mother's favour, I agreed to take sewing classes, so that I would at least have one talent when I went to my husband's house.

Coincidentally, the sewing school was on the road next to the pharmacy. Saiid quickly caught on to my every-other-day schedule and, no matter how, he would make his way to the door on time. One block away from the pharmacy, my heart would start pounding and my breathing would become more rapid. I would try not to look towards the pharmacy and not to blush, but it was no use. Each time our eyes met, I turned red up to my ears. It was so embarrassing. And he, bashfully and with an eager look in his eyes, would greet me with a nod.

One day as I turned the corner, he suddenly appeared in front of me. I became so flustered that I dropped my sewing ruler. He bent down, picked it up and with his eyes cast down quietly said, ‘I'm sorry I frightened you.'

I said, ‘No,' grabbed the ruler from him and scurried away. For a long time, I wasn't myself. Every time I remembered that moment I would blush and feel a pleasant tremor in my heart. I don't know why, but I was sure he was experiencing the same feelings.

 

With the first autumn winds and the early days of September, our long wait came to an end and Parvaneh and I headed back to school. There was no end to all the things we wanted to tell each other. We had to share everything that had happened over the summer, everything we had done and even thought. But ultimately, all our conversations kept coming back to Saiid.

‘Tell me the truth,' Parvaneh said. ‘How many times did you go to the pharmacy while I was away?'

‘I swear I never went there,' I said. ‘I was too embarrassed.'

‘Why? He has no clue what we think and talk about.'

‘So you think!'

‘No way. Has he said anything? How do you know?'

‘No. I just think so.'

‘Well, we can pretend we don't know anything and just do our own thing.'

But the truth was that something had changed. My meetings with Saiid had taken on a different tone and colour and felt more serious. In my heart, I felt a strong, though unspoken, bond with him and hiding it from Parvaneh wasn't easy. We had been going to school for only a week when she found her first excuse to go to the pharmacy and dragged me along with her. I felt so self-conscious. It was as if the entire city knew what was going on in my heart and they were all watching me. When Saiid saw us walk in, he just froze where he stood. Parvaneh asked him for aspirin a few times, but he couldn't hear her. Finally, Dr Ataii came over, said hello to Parvaneh and asked about her father. Then he turned to Saiid and said, ‘Why are you just standing there looking dumbfounded? Give the young lady a box of aspirin.'

By the time we walked out, everything had been exposed. ‘Did you see the way he was looking at you?' Parvaneh asked, surprised.

I said nothing. She turned and stared into my eyes.

‘Why have you turned so pale? You look like you're about to faint!'

‘Me? No! There's nothing wrong with me.'

But my voice was shaking. We walked in silence for a few minutes. Parvaneh was deep in thought.

‘Parvaneh, what is it? Are you all right?'

Suddenly, she exploded like a firecracker and in a voice louder than usual she snapped, ‘You are so mean. I am as stupid as you are cunning. Why didn't you tell me?'

‘Tell you what? There was nothing to tell.'

‘Right! You two have something going on. I would have to be blind not to see it. Tell me the truth; how far have you two gone?'

‘How could you say such a thing?'

‘Stop it! Stop playing the mouse. You are capable of anything. From that headscarf to now this love affair! Stupid me! And all this time I thought he kept popping up in front of us because of me. You're so sly. Now I understand why they say people from Qum are shrewd. You didn't even tell me, your best friend. I tell you everything. Especially something this important.'

There was a big lump in my throat. I grabbed her arm and pleaded, ‘Please, swear that you won't tell anyone. Don't speak so loud on the street, it's not proper. Be quiet, people will hear. I swear on my father's life, I swear on the Quran, there is nothing going on.'