Tehran, 1958-
Her bedroom was relatively small on the second floor of their house. Her bed was set alongside the window which faced street. However, there was enough space between bed and window for her to stand there and watch the street or sit at the edge of the bed and stare outside. Sometimes at night when she could not sleep, she would gaze at the sky and tried to count the stars. Her bedspread and curtain were from same material and were red color. Her mother had sewn them for her. She had recently had devolved this love for the red color. She thought red would reflect the color of nature in a romantic way even though she did not know what romantic meant. Next to her bed was her small desk. Across from her bed were two doors, one the door to enter her room, and the other the door of her small closet. The floor was covered by a Persian Rug, navy and red were main colors with some creme color around the edges. It was made in Kerman, one of the Southern cities in Iran. The design of he rug was birds among branches of trees.
At that moment Hana was standing behind the window, where the narrow strip between her bed and window was, enduring her petite body and big heart. As usual she was hearing voices in her ears, like her thoughts were talking to her. Her heart pounded and she was wrung with anguish. Exasperatedly, she thought that she would not see him today. Her room was dark, damp, and cold. Her mother always fought with her when she had the window open specially on a days like this, damp, and cold. She still hoped for a miracle. The small round clock next to her bed, she called it little Ben, showed four o'clock. "No, he won't show up today. It's raining; maybe he didn't go to school like me." She breathed deeply of a sudden relief; and remembered the book she was reading earlier. It was laid on the bed open and face down. Disappointed, she sat on her bed and then eased under the comforter, placing her hands under her head. She stayed in that position for a while and gazed at the ceiling. A spider, caught in its own web, amused her for a moment or two. She thought about saving it; but quickly she changed her mind. Trying to think about the tall figure, the big, round, and fat body of her aunt's brother took his place. The spider finally fell on the bed and she killed it viciously with the book. Her violent attack caused her to lose the page of the book that she had a pencil as a marker there. Searching for the page, a heavy load on her chest almost paralyzed her. She launched forward in the bed, gasping for air. When the pain eased away, she picked up the book and began searching for the page she had read only half an hour earlier. She began reading; but the words in that page scattered like the leaves outside. Suddenly she remembered the poem about autumn she had written that morning. Some lines on it came to her.
"I had a dream in wold.
I resisted the pain in cold.
Leaves shined like gold.
I chastised myself with scold."
She did not remember the rest of the poem unless she would reach for her book of poetry hidden under her mattress; but she did not feel like it at that moment. She went back to her book and finished reading the page without understanding it. The fat, round figure was still in her mind. She had always hated him; but her aunt loved her brother. Something flashed like a sudden lightening in her mind and she recalled an earlier event.
{}
It was a pleasant spring day. Hana was reading a book. Her chair was faced the window in the guest room upstairs, next to her room. The window was open and she enjoyed the spring breeze running through her hair. Her back was to the door of the room. Blissful by the complicated book she was reading and not understanding it, and the breeze; she heard a footstep. Jumping out of her chair, as she had committed a bad thing, she saw the big, fat, round aunt's brother, Naser.
"Relax. Did I scare you? What are you reading?"
"Just a book! No, you didn't scare me."
Those were not exactly what she wanted to say. What she really wanted to say was: "Yes, you scared me. Get lost you, fat, bucket." But she said those in her speaking mind.
"Good, why don't you sit back in your chair. I won't bother you."
"Okay," While she wanted to say: "Leave me alone."
She obediently sat back on her chair and suddenly felt Naser's fat, round hand on her breasts. He was standing behind her chair. She, frozen with horror, stayed motionless and speechless. Her silent caused him to find the courage for more. He slid his hand through the V neck of her tee shirt and slowly and smoothly moved it down until it was on her naked, newly grown breast. Hana petrified, felt a flow of a burning fire inside her body. Naser Squeezed the nipple and slipped his fat hand lower on her belly; and suddenly horrified Naser moved his hand out and walked to the window when a footstep was heard. Shivering and astounded, Hana left the room.
The image of the fat, round aunt's brother ever since had occupied a corner of her twelve years old mind. As much as she hated Naser, she could not get rid of that strange moment of only a few months earlier, which had been so difficult for her to comprehend.
Dallas-
To Be Continued
No comments:
Post a Comment