The Book of Fate (10 page)

The only dream that ushered me to bed at night and made me forget the pain and suffering of my tedious days was that of a life with Saiid. In my mind, I would sketch our small and beautiful house, its furnishings and the decorations in every room. It was my small heaven. I imagined our children, beautiful, healthy and happy. In my dreams I was in eternal love and bliss. Saiid was a model husband. A gentle man, mild-mannered and kind, sensible and intelligent, he never fought with me, he never belittled me. Oh, how I loved him. Has any woman ever loved a man the way I loved Saiid? If only we could live in our fantasies.

 

In early June, as soon as the final school exams were over, Parvaneh's family moved away from our neighbourhood. I knew they were planning on it, but I didn't think they would leave so soon. Later, I learned that they actually wanted to go sooner, but had decided to wait for the school year to end. For a while, Parvaneh's father had been commenting that the neighbourhood was no longer a good area to live in. He was right. It was good only for the likes of my brothers.

It was a hot morning. I was sweeping the room and I still had not pulled down the wicker blinds when I heard Parvaneh's voice. I ran into the yard. Faati was at the front door. Parvaneh had come to say goodbye. Mother got to the door ahead of me and held it half closed. Then she snatched the envelope Parvaneh had given to Faati, gave it back to her and said, ‘Go quickly. Go before her brothers see you and cause another scandal. And don't bring anything here any more.'

With a lump in her throat Parvaneh said, ‘But ma'am, I only wrote to say goodbye and to give her our new address. You can read it.'

‘That won't be necessary!' Mother snapped.

I grabbed the door with both hands and tried to pull it open. But Mother was holding it tight and kicking me away. ‘Parvaneh!' I screamed. ‘Parvaneh!'

‘For the love of God, don't hurt her so much,' Parvaneh begged. ‘I swear she didn't do anything bad.'

Mother slammed the door shut. I sat on the ground and wept. I had lost my guardian, friend and confidante.

 

The last suitor was Ahmad's friend. I often wondered how my brothers approached these men. For instance, how did Ahmad tell his friend that he had a sister of marrying age? Did they advertise me? Were they making certain promises? Or did they haggle over me like two bazaar merchants? Whatever their approach, I knew it wasn't respectable.

Asghar Agha, the butcher, was just like Ahmad, in age as well as in his crude manners and personality. And he wasn't all that literate. He said, ‘A man has to make his bread with the might of his arm, not sit in a corner and scribble away like a half-dead, pencil-pushing clerk.'

‘He has money and knows how to straighten out this girl,' Ahmad argued.

And with respect to my being too thin, Asghar Agha said, ‘It doesn't matter. I'll give her so much meat and fat to eat that in a month's time she'll be as big as a barrel. Instead, she has sassiness in her eyes.'

His mother was an old, dreadful-looking woman who ate non-stop and endorsed everything her son said. Asghar Agha met with everyone's approval. Mother was happy because he was young and had not been previously married. Ahmad was his friend and supported him because, after a brawl at Jamshid Café, Asghar Agha had vouched for him and he had not been thrown in jail. Father consented because the man's butcher's shop had a decent income. And Mahmoud said, ‘It's good, he's a tradesman and he has what it takes to deal with this girl and not let her step out of line. The sooner we wrap things up the better.'

No one cared what I thought and I didn't tell them how much I loathed the thought of living with a filthy, ignorant and illiterate thug who reeked of raw meat and tallow even on the day he came to ask for a girl's hand in marriage.

The next morning, Mrs Parvin rushed over to our house in a state of panic.

‘I hear you want to give Massoumeh to Asghar Agha the butcher. For the love of God, don't do it! The man is a knife-wielding hooligan. He's a drinker, a womaniser. I know him. At least ask around and find out about him.'

‘Don't blabber, Mrs Parvin,' Mother said. ‘Who knows him better, you or Ahmad? And he told us everything about himself. Like Ahmad said, men do a thousand things before they get married, but they put it all aside when they become burdened with a wife and kids. He has sworn on his father's life and even pledged a strand of his moustache that he won't take a single wrong step after he gets married. Besides, we're not going to find anyone better for Massoumeh. He's young, she'll be his first wife, he's rich, he has two butcher's shops and he has mettle. What more could we ask for?'

Mrs Parvin looked at me with such pity and sympathy, as if she was looking at someone sentenced to death. The next day, she said, ‘I begged Ahmad not to go through with it, but he's utterly ignorant.' (This was the first time she had confessed to her secret affair with my brother.) ‘He said, “It isn't prudent to keep her at home any longer than this.” But why aren't you doing something about it? Don't you understand the catastrophe you're facing? Are you really willing to marry this thug?'

‘What difference does it make?' I said indifferently. ‘Let them do whatever they want. Let them think they're marrying me off. They don't know that any man other than Saiid will touch only my corpse.'

‘May God have mercy!' she gasped. ‘Don't ever say such things again. It's a sin. You have to get these thoughts out of your head. No man could ever be your Saiid, but not all men are as bad as this lout. Wait, perhaps a better suitor will come along.'

I shrugged and said, ‘It makes no difference at all.'

She left looking anxious. On her way out, she stopped in front of the kitchen and said something to Mother. Then Mother slapped herself on the face and from that moment on I was under greater guard. They took away all the medicine bottles and wouldn't let me touch a razor or a knife, and the moment I went upstairs, one of them would hurry after me. It made me laugh. They actually thought I was stupid enough to jump out of a second-floor window! But I had better plans.

Discussions about the marriage ceremony and the wedding slowed down because the groom's sister was absent. She was married and lived in Kermanshah and couldn't travel to Tehran for another ten days. ‘I can't do it without my sister's approval and consent,' Asghar Agha said. ‘I am as indebted to her as I am to my mother.'

 

It was eleven in the morning and I was out in the yard when I heard someone banging on the front door. I wasn't allowed to open the door so I called for Faati. Mother shouted from the kitchen, ‘This one time, it's all right. Open the door and see who is so impatient.' I had barely opened the door when Mrs Parvin pushed her way in.

‘Girl, you are so blessed and lucky,' she half-cried. ‘You won't believe what a great suitor I have found for you. As perfect as the moon, as a bouquet of flowers…'

I stood there gaping at her. Mother came out of the kitchen and said, ‘What's the matter, Mrs Parvin?'

‘My dear lady,' she said. ‘I have wonderful news. I have found the perfect suitor for her. A real gentleman, from a reputable family, well educated… I swear, one strand of his hair is worth more than a hundred of these thugs and hooligans. Shall I ask them to come this afternoon?'

‘Wait a second!' Mother said. ‘Slow down. Who are they? Where did you find them?'

‘They are really upstanding people. I've known them for ten years. I've sewn a lot of dresses for the mother and her daughters. The eldest daughter, Monir, got married a long time ago to one of the landowners in Tabriz and she lives there. Mansoureh, the second daughter, went to university. She got married two years ago and now has a cute, chubby boy. The third daughter is still in school. They are devout people. The father is now retired. He owns a place, a factory, no, the one where they make books. What are they called?'

‘What about the guy himself?'

‘Oh, wait until you hear about the guy. He is wonderful. He has gone to university. I don't know what he studied, but he is working in that place his father owns. They make books. He is about thirty years old and he is fine looking. When I went for a fitting for the mother, I had a quick look. May God preserve him, he has a nice figure, black eyes and dark eyebrows, slightly olive-skinned…'

‘Well, where did they see Massoumeh?' Mother asked.

‘They haven't. I described her to them. I told them what a wonderful girl she is. Pretty, and a good housewife. The mother really wants her son to get married. She had once asked me if I knew of any suitable girls. So, shall I tell them to come this afternoon?'

‘No! We've made pledges and promises to Asghar Agha. His sister is coming from Kermanshah next week.'

‘Come on!' Mrs Parvin exclaimed. ‘You haven't actually done anything yet. You haven't even held the bride's consent ceremony. People change their minds even in the middle of the marriage service.'

‘And what about Ahmad? God knows what riot he'll start. And he'll have every right. He will be humiliated. After all, he has made promises to Asghar Agha and he can't just back out of them.'

‘Don't worry. I'll deal with Ahmad.'

‘You should be ashamed of yourself!' Mother scolded. ‘What sort of talk is this? May God forgive you.'

‘Don't get the wrong idea. Ahmad is good friends with Haji and listens to him. I'll ask Haji to step in and mediate. Think of this innocent girl. I know that thug has a hand for hitting. When he drinks he loses his mind. And even now, he has a kept woman. Do you think she's going to give him up that easily? Never!'

‘He has a what?' Mother asked, confused. ‘What did you say he has?'

‘Never mind,' Mrs Parvin said. ‘I mean he has something going on with another woman.'

‘Then what does he want this one for?'

‘Well, he wants this one to be his wife and have his kids. The other one can't have children.'

‘How do you know?'

‘Madam, I know these types of people.'

‘How? Who are you to say such things? Have some shame.'

‘And you always think the worst. My own brother was like this. I grew up with this sort of man. For the love of God, don't let this poor girl climb out of a hole and fall into a pit. Let this family come, meet them and see how people can be different from each other.'

‘First, I have to talk to her father and see what he says. Besides, if these people are so good, why don't they take a bride from their own clan?'

‘Honestly, I don't know. I guess it's Massoumeh's luck. God loves her.'

Surprised and sceptical, I watched Mrs Parvin's enthusiasm and persistence. I simply couldn't understand the woman. Her actions were contradictory. I couldn't understand why she was so concerned about my future. I thought there must be another game at play.

Father and Mother debated all afternoon. Mahmoud joined the discussion for a while and then he said, ‘The hell with it. Do whatever you want. Just get rid of her soon. Send her off and give us some peace of mind.'

Stranger yet was Ahmad's reaction. He came home late that night and the following morning when Mother opened the subject with him, he didn't object at all. He simply shrugged and said, ‘What do I know? Do as you please.'

What a bizarre influence Mrs Parvin had on him.

 

A day later, the new suitor's family came to the house. Ahmad didn't come home and when Mahmoud found out the visitors were all women and not wearing full hijab he didn't come into the living room at all. Mother and Father looked them up and down and appraised them with a buyer's eye. The suitor himself hadn't come. His mother was wearing a black chador, but his sisters had no hijab. They really were worlds apart from all the others who had come before them.

Mrs Parvin was running the show and eagerly promoting me. When I walked in with a tray of tea, she said, ‘See how pretty she is. Imagine how much more beautiful she will be once she plucks her eyebrows. She lost a little weight after she caught a cold and had a fever the other week.' I grimaced and looked at her with surprise.

‘Being thin is very fashionable these days,' the eldest sister said. ‘Women are killing themselves to lose weight. And my brother hates fat women.'

Mother's eyes gleamed with joy. Mrs Parvin smiled proudly and looked over at Mother. It was as if they had complimented her and not me. As per Mother's orders, I served tea and then went and sat in the room next door. The samovar and tea set had been brought upstairs so that I wouldn't have to go up and down the stairs and risk causing an embarrassment. They were all talking fast. They said their young man had studied through the last year of law at the university but had not yet received his degree.

‘For now, he is working at a printing house. In fact, his father is half owner. His salary isn't bad and he can support a wife and children. And he has a house. Of course, it isn't his. It's his grandmother's. She lives downstairs and we've fixed the upstairs for dear Hamid. Young men like to have their own place; and with his being the only son, his father gives him whatever he wants.'

‘Well, where is he?' Father asked. ‘Will we have the honour of meeting him?'

‘To be honest, my son has left everything up to me and his sisters. He said, “If you like her and approve, it will be the same as me approving.” And he is now away on a business trip.'

‘God willing, when is he coming back?'

The youngest sister jumped in and said, ‘God willing, in time for the marriage ceremony and the wedding.'

‘What?' Mother said, surprised. ‘You mean we're not going to see the groom until the marriage ceremony? Isn't that a little strange? Doesn't he want to at least see his bride-to-be? A quick glimpse is religiously sanctioned and allowed.'