The Pearl that Broke Its Shell (16 page)

“You’ve been working on that sweater for over a week, Zarmina! When are you going to finish?”

“Sounds like what I hear you saying to your husband in the middle of the night, Nargis!”

Laughter and a hand clapped against someone’s back. Shekiba listened closely, intrigued by the rare moments of camaraderie amongst the women.

Nargis giggled and shot back without hesitation.

“Mahtub-
gul
can hardly see beyond her huge breasts to know what is happening below.”

Laughter again. Samina looked in Shekiba’s direction and seemed uncomfortable to have her in the room. Zarmina noticed and raised her teacup.

“I wouldn’t worry about her, Samina dear. Remember, she was her father’s son so it’s in her best interests to learn the way things are from women. Imagine if you had no idea what your wedding night had in store for you! Let her be aware.”

Samina clucked her tongue. “Knowing would only make it worse.”

Shekiba had thought of her statement often. What was worse about it? Whatever it was, her aunts made it sound awful but tolerable. They were laughing about it, after all.

Hearing Marjan’s soft sighs and gasps came as no surprise. It was the thing that transpired between a husband and wife and it was how women became heavy with child. This much Shekiba had pieced together.

After a few moments, the grunts ceased and Shekiba could hear the sounds of a conversation. She pressed her ear to the wall.

“And Zarmina told you she did that?”

“Yes, that’s what she said. And now I know why Bobo Shahgul was so eager to make this arrangement. She didn’t want to have this girl in her house.”

“I’ve never trusted those boys. Especially Freidun. They think the world of themselves but not one of those sons is a quarter of the man their father was. Their mother is right to keep a close eye on them.”

“But what are we to do with Shekiba
-e-shola
? True, she does her work around the house well enough but I am afraid that she will turn on us as she did with her own grandmother. What if she threatens to put a curse on our family as well?”

Put a curse on the family?

“Hmm. Interesting.”

“And Zarmina said that even though she had been doing the chores as a son, that the girl has the spirit of a wild woman. The last thing this home needs to invite is scandal and rumor.”

“And what is it that you think we should do?”

“I think you should send her back.”

“Send her back?”

“Yes! For the sake of everyone in this house. Take her back and tell her uncles that they will have to settle their debt in another way. We cannot have her.”

“I see.” Marjan was wise to bring up the matter now, with Azizullah feeling spent and relaxed.

“But we mustn’t tell them why we want to send her back. Zarmina specifically asked me to keep all this to myself.”

“I bet she did.”

There was silence. Shekiba felt betrayed and then wondered why she was surprised by her aunt’s accusations.

What does she want? Does Zarmina want me back in the house? Why?

“It’s going to be a shame to lose her help but I have a bad feeling about this girl. I cannot shake Zarmina’s words from my mind.” Shekiba thought of Marjan’s nervous behavior the last couple days and almost laughed.

For a while, she relished the idea that she could be so formidable a threat.

“If I take her back, it will create a rift between our families and that is not in our best interests. By the looks of their land, I anticipate that the family will be again knocking on our door to borrow money. Not a single one of them knows how to grow a crop. But I have another idea,” Azizullah said.

“What is it?”

“You worry about the children and look after the house. Did I not say I would take care of it?” Marjan’s window of opportunity was quickly closing. Azizullah’s impatience was returning. “Let me talk to Hafizullah about it but there may be a way to get rid of this girl if she is so bothersome to you. And at the same time, we may be able to secure our position in this community. There are changes coming and Hafizullah has high aspirations.”

S
hekiba kept her eyes and ears open in the next few days, looking for any sign of what Azizullah’s plan might be. He was out of the house most of the time, undoubtedly meeting with Hafizullah about his mystery plan. Shekiba grew more and more frightened.

Women who brought scandal or trouble to a home were not tolerated. Even a naïve girl like Shekiba knew as much. Shekiba began to fear for her life.

She tried to gauge her situation through Marjan.

“Khanum Marjan,” Shekiba said quietly. Marjan was darning socks. She jumped at Shekiba’s voice.

“I… excuse me! I did not mean to startle you! I was going to prepare dinner.”

“Oh, Shekiba!” Her hand covered her chest. Marjan shook her head. “Why do you sneak around like that? Go ahead and begin dinner. Azizullah will be hungry when he returns from outside.”

Shekiba fidgeted for a moment before daring to ask.

“Khanum Marjan? May I ask a question?”

Marjan looked up expectantly.

“When you… when you spoke to Khala Zarmina… what did she tell you? I mean, about me.”

Marjan turned back to her socks and looked up at Shekiba from the corner of her eye.

“What does it matter?”

“I would like to know.”

“She said that you argue.”

“Argue? With who?”

“You don’t know?”

“I did not argue with anyone there. I did everything they asked of me.”

“Well, seems like you’re arguing right now, aren’t you?”

“No,” she replied adamantly. She was desperate to defend herself. “I am not arguing! But whatever she said about me is not true!”

“Shekiba! Lower your voice! Forget what they said. Just busy yourself with the chores.”

Shekiba felt helpless. She retreated into the kitchen to begin dinner, angry and frustrated and forced to hide it.

T
wo days later Azizullah came home with his brother. They sat in the living room and shared a lunch of rice and eggplant. Shekiba frantically searched for excuses to loiter around the living room door, eager to hear their conversation.

“They will be traveling with around thirty people. I have asked that the house be readied. We are sparing no expense.”

“Your home will suit them fine, my brother. Better than our simple home would. Have you enough food for the night?”

“Yes, I’ve called in all my favors in town and we’re going to have a meal that even the king himself will talk about! It is costing me more than I had anticipated but I think this will be a great opportunity. For the both of us, do not forget.” Hafizullah was slick with confidence.

“I will be there for sure and if there’s anything we can do, we will do it,” Azizullah said. “But there is something I would like to offer to the king.”

“Oh? And what is that?” Hafizullah said, a half-chewed morsel still in his mouth.

“I would like to offer King Habibullah a gift of a servant.”

Shekiba’s heart began to pound.

“A servant? Which servant?”

“I do not have that many from which to choose,” Azizullah said, chuckling.

“You mean Shekiba-
e-shola
?”

“Yes, that’s the one.”

“Oh, I don’t know about this. Brother, do you really think it is wise to make such a halfhearted offering to the king? You may anger him, you know.”

“She is a good worker and will serve the palace well. Is there not a way to make an honorable gesture of her?”

Shekiba, the gesture. Shekiba, the gift.

She felt insignificant and disposable to hear herself described that way. Again.

“Well, let me think on it. It is possible, I suppose. I mean, it’s not as if he needs to see her face… but you know there may be a good use for this girl in the palace after all. Now that I think of it—I just had a conversation with a general. You know General Homayoon, don’t you?”

“Yes, that no-good money-hungry fool. What were you doing with him?”

“He is a money-hungry fool but he’s likely going to be promoted, so watch what you say about him. Better to have this fool as your friend than your enemy. He told me that he has been placed in charge of recruiting soldiers to help guard King Habibullah’s harem. The king doesn’t trust men to watch over his women and he has collected a group of women who are kept as men. This way he need not worry that his guards will take advantage of his ladies.”

“Ah, what a brilliant solution! I am telling you, my brother, this girl is well suited for such a role. She walks and breathes like a man, my wife tells me.”

“Then we will arrange it,” Hafizullah declared. “I will speak to the general so that we can make the entourage aware of the gift before you present her to King Habibullah. This is a historic visit to our town and you will be making a mark. You can expect this to bring you many returns, I believe.”

Shekiba had heard enough. She walked back to the kitchen, her legs wobbly beneath her. Her head was spinning.

The king? The palace?

Words that were foreign to her.

Shekiba, the half face. The girl-boy who walks like a man.

Shekiba was not a whole anything, she realized.

CHAPTER 16

K
hala Shaima liked to keep us hanging. I wondered what would happen to Bibi Shekiba almost as much as I wondered what would happen to us. It seemed that we were both about to leave our homes.

Padar-
jan
spent more time away from home in the following weeks. When he did return, he scowled and barked orders more. Even Parwin’s soft singing, which he usually secretly enjoyed, provoked him. Madar-
jan
tried to keep him placated with ready meals and a quiet home but he inevitably found another reason to explode.

I spent more time at Agha Barakzai’s shop. It was my way of avoiding the guys without explaining what was happening. I worried that my mother was going to change me back into a girl and I wondered how Abdullah and Ashraf would react. I hated to be away from them, mostly Abdullah, but I was scared to be with them, too.

I lay awake at night, thinking about Abdullah and remembering the day Madar-
jan
had caught us play-fighting. Until the moment she called my name, it had been thrilling. I tingled to think of Abdullah’s face over mine, his long legs trapping my hips under him, his hands pinning my wrists. And his grin. I blushed in the dark.

I tried to make up to Madar-
jan
for what I had done. I tried to keep Padar-
jan
distracted from her, even if it meant him yelling at me. Even though I’d been relieved of housework when I became a
bacha posh,
I tried to help when I saw her washing clothes or beating the dust from the carpets.

Shahla didn’t say more than a few words to me every day. She was still upset and could sense from Madar-
jan
’s mood that trouble was brewing. She was quiet around Padar-
jan,
bringing him tea or food and leaving the room before he could realize she was one of those young women he had kept home for too long.

My grandmother stopped by more often. She was intrigued by the new wave of unrest in our home and wanted to see it for herself. Madar-
jan
tried to be as polite as she could.

“Tell my son that I want to talk to him. When he gets home, make sure he comes to see me.”

“Of course. What is it that you want to talk to him about?”

“Is it any business of yours? Just tell him what I’ve asked.”

Madar-
jan
knew what the topic was. Maybe this time her husband would be more interested in bringing another wife home.

I listened in when Padar-
jan
went to see his mother. I pretended to be playing with a ball in the courtyard and slowly kicked it further and further until I was right outside my grandmother’s living room. I heard her shrill voice loud and clear. My father, mumbling at times, was more difficult to make out.

“
Bachem,
it’s high time. You’ve given her plenty of opportunity to give you a son and she’s failed. Now, let’s bring a second wife for you so that you can finally expand this family.”

“And where am I going to put her? We have one room for all the girls as it is. There’s no money to build another space behind our home or to buy something else in town. I can always find a new wife. It’s the space and money that are harder to come by.”

“What about Abdul Khaliq? Hasn’t he promised to help you when you need?”

Padar-
jan
shook his head.

“The men are short on weapons, on supplies. There isn’t money to spare.”

“Psht. The hell there isn’t money. I’ve heard what he does. I’ve heard from the people in town about his horses, his wives, all his children. He’s got plenty!”

“Madar! Be careful what you say! He’s a powerful man and don’t be part of any loose talk about him. Do you understand me?”

“I’m not the one starting this talk. There are lots of tongues flapping about him. That’s all I’m trying to tell you,” she said, annoyed to be silenced by her son.