Dallas-
The torrents of downpour is still keeping people in this other side of world in their safe homes. Looking back to her life, the only blissful things that she has in her life are her two sons. She wonders how her twelve years old son feels at that moment. Has she missed her grand mother who took care of her? Is he upset that he is ripped apart from his friends, cousins, aunts, and uncles? Does he have any attraction for the opposite sex, as she did for the tall figure when she was twelve. Gazing to the dark horizon, she lets her swift moving imagination drifts way back, where she was withering of a vain, childish love in her small bedroom.
Tehran-
Hana got up from bed and went to her desk. She removed her book of poetry from under the mattress. Pressing forcefully the pen on the paper, she began writing. After a while she stopped to see what she had written. It was not a poem, as she loved to write, but it was a true and hateful sentence about the big, fat, round aunt's brother, Naser.
"Bucket, container, big, fat pail, I hate you."
She looked at her girlish handwriting and realized how soon she was introduced to loathing and disbelief. She put the pencil down, got up from the chair, and walked around the bed to get to the window. It was dark now and she could not see the Shadow of the moving tree in the glimmering light of the street. She opened the window just a little to feel the chill of that fall night; but the bitter cold rushed inside. Rain had stopped a while back. She tried to touch the wet leaves of the lonely tree in front of her window.
"Hana, come on down. Dinner is ready." Her mom distracted her of enjoying the nature, and her loneliness.
"In a minute, mom."
She closed the window. Going down the stairs, the sweet smell of rice and gormeh sabzi (a Persian dish) filled her nose and her stomach growled.
"Help me to set the table." Mom said.
She frowned slightly and began doing what she was asked, while thinking. "Why can't she ask my brothers?" She found the answer to her own question right away: "Because they're boys."
Grandma and her sons, her uncles, were not home that night. It was a pleasing situation not having them at home even if it was for one night. Ever since grandpa passed away, they lived with them. Hana's dad was the oldest son and he had to take care of his mother and two younger brothers, Reza and Asad. It was not a written law; but it was expected from the first son. The two women, her mom and grandma, fought like cats and dogs constantly. Sometimes Hana felt to run away from that monstrous, intolerable crowd and find a quiet place to live; but when she thought about how to support herself, she always changed her mind.
Every evening after dinner she went to her room to write; a hobby she worshipped; however, in day time when she was at school, she hid her writings under the mattress so her inquisitive mom could not find it.
Dallas-
The rain has stopped again. Hana finally gives up standing next to the window. She must prepare food for her family. It is almost dinner time and her sons would not understand that she does not feel like cooking. In the kitchen she takes a package of ground beef out of freezer while does not even know what to do with it. It really does not matter. Even if she was the best cook, her husband, Hamid, always complain. Drawing back to old times, she remembers how some men used women. To them girls were only objects or robots that their jobs were only to please men without complaining. Even Reza, her uncle, who was only two years older than her, wanted to take advantage of her. Anytime they were at the dinner table, he rubbed his feet to hers. She did not know the reason then. Once, she was about to ask him the reason of his rubbing his feet to her leg; but when she saw Reza's piercing eyes, she stopped. There was something in his look that frightened her. After that, he never did that nonsense act anymore.
The situation has changed now. She is not a little girl anymore. Her sons, Twelve and eight, remind her of how similar her attitude was at those age, except they are boys; they live in America, and they can not impose their will upon girls. In both of her pregnancies, she prayed to have boys and those wishes are among the rare ones that came through.
The silent night after a stormy day seems unreal. In her lonely bed, she wonders where her husband is at that time. Is he drunk or having sex with another woman? She realizes that she does not care anymore. She even wishes that Hamid finds a permanent girlfriend and leave her alone. In the darkness of the bedroom, a shaky light from a high beam in the street forces its rays inside; and in the glimmer of that light she travels once more to the old days.
Tehran-
To Be Continued
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