The Book of Fate by Parinoush Saniee Page B

Perhaps if he didn’t have all these responsibilities and if his father was still alive, he would come and ask for my hand right now. The doctor said they are a reputable family. I’m even willing to live with him in a dank room. But why did he write that my name suits my face and my character? Wasn’t my accepting his letters proof that I was not innocent? Would I have fallen in love if I were truly innocent? But I couldn’t help it. I tried not to think of him, not to have my heart beat so fast when I saw him, not to blush, but I couldn’t control any of it.
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    On Saturday morning I woke up earlier than usual. In truth, I hardly slept all night. I got dressed and made my bed to prove to everyone that I was no longer ailing. I put aside Grandmother’s cane, which had served me well, held onto the banister, climbed down the stairs and sat at the breakfast spread.
    â€˜Are you sure you can go to school?’ Father asked. ‘Why don’t you let Mahmoud take you there on his motorcycle?’
    Mahmoud gave Father a harsh look and said, ‘Father, what are you saying? All we were missing was for her to ride without hijab behind a man on a motorcycle!’
    â€˜But son, she’ll be wearing her headscarf. Won’t she?’
    â€˜Of course,’ I said. ‘When have I ever gone to school without a headscarf?’
    â€˜And you are her brother, not a stranger,’ Father added.
    â€˜God have mercy! Father, it seems Tehran has led you astray, too!’
    I interrupted Mahmoud and said, ‘Don’t worry, Father. Parvaneh is picking me up. She’ll help me and we’ll walk to school together.’
    Mother mumbled something under her breath. And Ahmad, his eyes puffy from the previous night’s drinking, with his usual anger barked, ‘Ha! Parvaneh, of all people. I tell you not to hang out with her and you make her your walking stick?’
    â€˜Why? What’s wrong with her?’
    â€˜What’s not wrong with her?’ he sneered. ‘She’s vulgar, constantly laughing and giggling, her skirt is too short, and she swings her hips when she walks.’
    I turned red and snapped back, ‘Her skirt isn’t short at all. It’s longer than everyone else’s in school. She’s an athlete and not one of those girls who strut and sashay. And what’s more, how do you know she wiggles her hips when she walks? Why are you looking at another man’s daughter?’
    â€˜Shut up or I’ll hit you so hard in the mouth that your teeth will fall out! Mother, do you see how impudent she’s become?’
    â€˜Enough!’ Father roared. ‘I know Mr Ahmadi. He is a very respectable and educated man. Uncle Abbas asked him to mediate when he got into an argument with Abol-Ghassem Solati over the store next door. No one goes against what Mr Ahmadi says. Everyone trusts his word.’
    Ahmad, who had turned bright red, turned to Mother and said, ‘Here you are! And then you wonder why the girl has become so impudent. Why shouldn’t she be impudent when everyone always takes her side?’ Then he turned to me and growled, ‘Go, go with her, sister. As a matter of fact, the girl is decency personified. Go learn respectability from her.’
    As luck would have it, just then the doorbell rang. I turned to Faati and said, ‘Tell her I’ll be right there.’ And to bring the argument to an end, I put on my headscarf as quickly as I could, said a hasty goodbye and limped out.
    Out on the street, I felt the cold wind on my face and stood for a few seconds to enjoy the fresh air. It smelled of youth, love and happiness. I leaned on Parvaneh. My ankle still hurt, but I didn’t care. I tried to curb my excitement and slowly and quietly we set off for school. From a distance, I saw Saiid standing on the second step in front of the pharmacy, peering down the street. When he saw us, he leaped down the steps