JUDAS KISS- Seventeen- At Last ✍ ✖ ☎ ☔ ☗

Helen turned off the car again. Since the birth of her son, her first born, she had this extreme desire to see him, to know about him, to touch him, to know his name, to know about his life; now she was here after four years having the informations she needed to find him, and she was frightened, she shook so much so that she thought she was having a heart attack.

She was in front of the house he was raised, and she did not have the courage to ring the bell! She did not know how his parents would receive her. She did not know if he was home or not. "Hello, I'm the one that gave birth to your son!" She laughed at her own thought! Would they not ask her why now, after all these years? She needed the courage of the old times.

She thought for a minute about Jacob. She had not heard anything about him since she broke up with him after that doomed birthday party; however, deep inside her heart she knew that he was the only man she ever loved. But she loved the Jacob when they both were sixteen years old, or the Jacob of that New Years Eve's party of so many years past, not the Jacob that came to Chris's second birthday party. He had changed; as the world had changed all around her, as people had changed all over!!

She at last rang the bell! It was a very beautiful house. She was happy that her son was raised in a very good and wealthy family. She had done some investigation about these people. Everything that she discovered about them was positive. The man was in oil business, the woman did not work, yet belonged to so many charities, and raised money for poor children! What a wonderful thing to use your money and to fund raise for this beautiful cause! They were very conservative people.

She had to climb three steps to get to the door and to ring the bell. A woman, who seemed to be maid with white uniform on, opened the door. Helen took a glimpse of the inside through the half open door. She saw part of the wide, fancy stairs in the huge entry hall which had a bend to go to the second floor. Oh, how wide the stairs were, so wide!!

To Be Continued

JUDAS KISS- Sixteen- The Agreement ✺ ☏ ☗ ☘ ☤

Then it came a period that besides the headaches, Helen began having very heavy periods; sometimes two or three times in a month. Pain was unbearable. She was even concerned that she might have some from of cancer!

Lastly she went to to see her gynecologist. But before this she heard a news that shocked her, yet made her happy to her innermost core! Steve told her finally that he would agree for a divorce. But the children should stay at the house since they went to privet schools. She knew that Steve, as horrible as he had been to her, was a good father, and would not let the children suffer because of divorce.

As she drove to the doctor's office, she thought that she would not ask for any financial help from Steve because of the divorce. Just letting her go after all these years was the greatest thing he was doing for her. She still had plenty money left in her little black bag; how much, she did not know. She told herself: "I'll get a job, anything at last, doesn't matter what! Oh, God, at last!"

She was now forty three years old. Her best guess for her heavy bleeding was that perhaps she was going through menopause. But the doctor told her otherwise:

"Your bleeding is for the IUD you have. It's been there for many years. We need to remove it."

She suddenly remembered that how she had another doctor to insert an IUD in her after the birth of Chris without telling Steve. At the time she did not want to be cheated by Steve and get pregnant again. But still she had heard women her age go through female climacteric. She brought the subject to doctor's attention.

"There is a possibility; but we won't know until we see how you do now that I removed the IUD. If you still are irregular, then in a few months I'll do a hormone test on you and we go from there!"

The heavy bleeding stopped. She had one normal period. The divorce process was going almost smoothly! She was happy at last. She was at last gaining her freedom back from all these men in her life who had used her in different ways but none in a good way!

She went to the doctor both for follow up and for not getting period for the last two months now. So her guess of going through change of life most likely was correct. After examining her, the doctor told her the shocking news:

"You're pregnant!!!"

To Be Continued

JudAS KISS- THIRTEEN- Lost in Thoughts ☯ ☫ ☤ ~ ☯

Helen waited till Thursday morning. It was late February, a pleasant, sunny morning. The night before, after she had put the children in bed and they had finally retired in their bedroom; like old days, she was pleasing to him. She tried not to push him to anger and cause him to show the rage he lately was showing, more than before!

In the morning, after breakfast, she took the children to the neighbor's house to play with their children. She used that opportunity of being alone with Steve to talk to him about her plan. She brought two cups of coffee and an ashtray on the patio table which faced the pool. It was still cold, but not bone chilling. Sun was shinning and for the time being, it shined on them where they were sitting. She wrapped herself in a shawl and sat on a chair, started a cigarette. Steve also took one from the package on the table and lit it up. He had his feet on the table, seemed very relaxed. She looked like being at ease, but trembled inside. Her hand that was holding the cigarette was shaking.

"Are you cold? Let's go inside!" He suggested.

"No, I like it out here."

They smoked in silence for a few moments. The opportunity was escaping her. Finally she gleaned all the vigor she could gather and without going through any lecture about her being alone and lonely or her desire to work, said:

"Steve, Elizabeth is going to school late August. In our neighborhood group many volunteered to take care of Chris. I am going back to work! I can't stand it anymore to stay at home all the time. I'll only teach two or three courses, only a few hours a day. Just wanted you to know!"

Steve listened without interrupting her. After she stopped talking, he stayed silent for a few second that seemed like eternity to her. Finally he opened his mouth and so much rage came out of it that she thought everyone in the neighborhood could hear him!

"How dare you to make a decision like this without even discussing it with me? What is the matter with you? You've turned my children against me; and now you want to leave them in thew hand of a whore like yourself and go to work?!"

Helen cut him off. Her face turned purple. She did not care what he would do to her.

"I'm sick and tired of you bossing me around. I am your wife not your slave! Can't you for once be logical and don't call names?"

"Stop, just stop! You can't go to work and that is that! No more discussion about it!"

"But I am!" Helen said, her lungs were heaving, her breath was laboured. "You can't stop me this time! I didn't go to college, as hard as it was for me, to stay home because that is how you like it. When you met me, I was working. You didn't have any problem with it then!"

"Helen stop, just stop before I do something that we both regret!"

"No," She was now barely able to speak, yet continued:

"No, I'm not stopping. I am going to work weather you like it or not. The children will be okay!"

To Be Continued

JUDAS KISS- Eleven- Home, Sweet Home ☗ ✔ ☁ ☗ ☖

Before Elizabeth's first birthday, they bought a house in North Dallas in a very good location and neighborhood. The house was on Inwood road, a little south of Walnut Hill Street. Steve used the excuse of the baby, and went alone

house shopping. He never took Helen with him to look at the houses with the real state agent. He never even told her that he was looking for a house. He picked up the house himself without Helen even seeing it. The lady, who was his agent, questioned him:

"Don't you want your wife to see the house before you put a deposit on?"

He laughed before getting into the car and answered her:

"She'll see it soon. We have a small child. It is hard with the baby to drive around the town to find the right house!!"

So Helen never saw the house until the day that they closed it after three weeks that he had already put the deposit on. Because of the community property law in Texas, he had almost no choice but to buy the house in both of their names. After they were done with the signing all the paper works, Helen still was not sure that how much he had put down, or how much their monthly payment would be, or what the house cost! He had arranged everything before he took her to the title company for signing. All Helen had to do, just sign and put her initials in places that they showed her.

After they finished in the title company and got the key of the house, Steve took her to the house they just had bought. They walked around in every room, and every closet. Steve almost played the role of a real state agent and told Helen about different area, the age of the house; he showed her a hidden area under the floor of master bedroom closet for hiding valuables!

She had a hard time to keep her tears from falling down her face. She was so offended of the way they had become homeowners that she was completely speechless to admire the beautiful house Steve had bought. She could not say to her husband:

"I really can't bear you; I despise you for the things you do, for the things you're proud of, that conceited part of you, your egotism, your highly strong- idiosyncrasy, and your disdain and disregard for everything and for me! You have no concern for anyone but yourself! You're coarse and I am earthly!"

But of course she never said these words. To answer Steve's question, "What do you think?", she quietly answered: "It's fine!"

He said: "Just fine! I kill myself working and making money and you say it is fine! When do you learn to be a little thankful for what you have?"

Helen almost found the situation ripe for a fight:

"It's a beautiful home! But I didn't know anything about it till today! What kind of married life do we have? Do you call this partnership?"

Steve, who was holding Elizabeth in his arm, put her down on the floor. Helen thought that he was going to hit her, but he did not. Anger blazed in his eyes. Helen picked up Elizabeth, who by now was screaming and crying. Nevertheless, she continued her cry. She wanted to either die herself or see him dead!

"What do you want from me? The house is yours, too; even though you don't deserve it. I am not home half of the time. This is for you and Elizabeth. What do you want from me you b...?"

Helen moved a few step back. Her throat was dry and she thought she would chock to death. She had a hard time to breathe. The child in her arm would not stop her screaming!!

To Be Continued

JUDAS KISS- Ten- Beastly Old Days ☗ ☗ ☘ ☯ ☤

Steve had already said these things and a lot more unbecoming and offensive words to her. She was beaten! She was stuck! Why wasn't he divorced her? Why wasn't she asked seriously for a divorce? Why was she staying with him? What happened to the Helen that had opened Roger's safe and took all his money and ran away? Was this colossal change in her was because of his threat. He had told him that if she wanted to divorce him, he would tell everyone about the baby. So what? She was not the first woman that had done something like that? Was it because she had lost the zest for life? Was it because of the extreme guilt she was feeling? But she never felt guilty those months that she had spent with Jacob! Then she did not even care if Steve would find out about it. When she let go of Jacob, it was not for her sake but it was for his; it was for saving his marriage; it was for saving him; since she knew what horrific childhood he had had! Her childhood was horrendous, too; but she loved him so much that she had to save him from her not herself from him! She knew it was good for him to stay with his wife, Melisa, and to become the son of Mr. Holland since his own son had turned out a bad seed that no one knew how and where he had gotten that corruptness. He was in prison now and for many years to come. Mr. Holland, kind of, adopted Jacob as a son, even though it was not a legal adoption; he gave him good education; he gave him his daughter; and one day, he would give him his law firm. She had ruined her life to save his. She did not call hers, life. She did not call her life anything!

What happened to the woman, who ran away from Chicago with only twenty dollars she had stolen from her mother? What happened to the woman, who opened Roger's safe at his castle and took all his money and ran? Although she did not considered that stealing since some of them was the money that she worked for it, and the rest of it was the money that other girls worked for it; but someone lost his life because of it!

Where was the Helen, who finished her education under the difficult circumstances and constant fear she was in? Was this cursed destiny the price she was paying for the murder of poor, good Mark? One life for another! She was certain that Mark knew by saving her, he had destroyed himself. That last look, when he was feeding the three vicious dogs so she could run, told her that. She never could forget that last look! Did God take her baby with the hand of Steve to punish her for the death of a good man with wife and children?

To Be Continued

JUDAS KISS- NINE- HEREAFTER ✔ ✔ ✔ ✔ ✔

Helen always wore big, long shirts or big sweater for colder days and either A Line skirt or

pants to college. She never wore jeans, something that was becoming popular among women those days. She saw how other teacher dressed up as if they were going to a party. But she was not going to a party. She was going to work and her only tools were blackboard and chalk. She did not want to attract any of her colleagues or students, nevertheless, as simple dressed as she was with her short dark hair, which in reality used to be long and blond, everyone admired her beauty. It seemed as though the more she dressed down, the more attractive she would become! She wore jeans around the house, shopping, or Friday casual in college. Her grayish blue eyes and short velvety dark hair which cascaded her face like a shinny waves, turned all head, men and women. Her beauty mostly was in her plainness and naturalness.

She was thinking about Steve, when he opened the door and came in. It was almost noon time. During the time he was gone, all the night before and this morning, she had thought to herself:

"What if I can make him to become like Jacob? What if I can love him the way I love Jacob? What if I can change him and reason with him for my pregnancy? What if I can restore him to a new life and new personality? What If I can awaken him and revive him to more befitting aims? I guess he doesn't know the sort of things that I dream about?!"

Steve noticed that she was sitting on the recliner. He still did not know that she had taken this semester off and the college was not open yet:

"I'm sorry I took your car! Now you missed work!"

His tone of voice was consolatory; however, she could not read any emotion on his face. Even though they were married for over three years, they were not like a normal couples that would know everything about each other. In the last three years, Steve had been in Vietnam, and when he was home for a short break, they truly never got to know each other. They fought and made love, nothing else. They did not socialize or go out. So it would be fair to say that Helen, as clever as she was, could not know how he felt about her pregnancy although he had left the home, which was the sign of anger. For now he was acting like a gentleman.

But Steve felt a darkness worse than what he had seen in Vietnam. It was like a storm, yet silent; it was wild, yet unconscious; it was tumult inside, yet calm outside of him! He loved Helen as much as he did the first he had seen her. He loved her to death, but it was a death that he wanted for himself not her. How he felt was like a ceaseless churning of a fierce body of water in him and within him! It was horror mixed with exhaustion. He had come from one abyss to another one. But this one was a ravaging chasm! He had no resting place!!

To Be Continued

Judas KISS- Eight- Disarray ✔ ✔ ✔ ✔ ✥

The things Steve told Helen about war, the danger, the atrocity, and specially about when the soldiers were taking time off for R and R in Saigon were heart wrenching! Those occasions, when Steve talked about war, were the only times that Helen was all ears and they did not fight.

One of the things that young Vietnamese, bar women in Saigon did to

American service men were so horrible that Helen lost sleep over it for a few nights. These women who were either sympathetic to North Vietnam or were threatened by them through Vietcong, ground glasses to very fine powder and mixed it with the beer that Americans drank. No one could see this ground powdery glass in the beer bottle or glass. Many American soldiers died or wounded seriously this way!

Or some of these bar women took Americans, who were lonely and faraway from home for a long time, to their homes and slept with them. The American soldiers were thankful to these beautiful Vietnamese girls. But none returned in the morning to their bases. These girls cut the throat of the soldiers in sleep; in some cases they cut even their penes and put them in their mouth!

Very soon American Military found out about these atrocities! Steve told her.

"They ordered all American servicemen to take their R and R in places like Japan, Philippines, or Taiwan, not in Saigon anymore!"

The revulsion in Helen was too strong to be called disgust. It was a tumult and uproarious compulsion which the terrible strain of the night, morning, day time, made an unending pain both physically and mentally on her! She began having terrible headaches; and because of that their arguments increased in their intensity and length. She thought that these headaches would go away when Steve was gone, when she would be with Jacob again; but that was not the case. They continued! Horrible headaches that even made her to vomit.

Jacob insisted that she should see a doctor.

"You never had these headaches before! What did he do to you to cause these?"

So now Jacob was blaming her husband for her headaches!! She kind of did not like it. She told Jacob the stories of war and atrocities that Steve had told her:

"Since I heard these things, my headaches began!"

However she went to the doctor. The doctor listened to everything she said, to when the headaches had started and made a correct diagnosis!!

To Be Continued

Judas KISS- Seven- Going Rogue ✔ ✔ ✔ ✔ ✔

Helen laughed loud and looked at the young, handsome waiter, wearing a black tuxedo trousers, white starched shirt, with black bow tie, and black tuxedo vest.

"Another martini for me!" Her eyes smiling after the cry which had made her makeup to run on her cheeks. Jacob used a napkin and wiped her smudged face from her makeup after her crying! The waiter looked at them and smiled!

"For me double vodka and a seven up! Please don't mix them. Just bring me a glass of ice." Jacob ordered his drink.

The waiter finally left them. They sat next to each other; their bodies almost touching. So far everything went smoothly and beautifully. Helen had not felt this good for a long, long time! Jacob held her hand in his and unconsciously began playing with her wedding band. A few minutes passed in silent. She knew what he was thinking! Suddenly as if he was shocked by some unseemly jolt, like when people would stop to watch an accident, which he called it, morbid fascination, he pulled his hand from hers!

"You're married!?" He inquired almost timidly!

"Oh, that, it's nothing! So what if I am married? I don't know why I did it! I guess I was bored!" She responded with a derisive laughter and somewhat astonishment; yet what she was saying was the truth. Her marriage to her was nothing!

They talked for hours. Helen told him everything that had happened to her since the last she had seen him. He already knew her life up to age sixteen. Now he knew the rest of it. He was the only one that now knew about all of Helen's life, even the murder of poor, old Mark! Even Steve, her husband did not know about Roger or her father molesting her, or the money in the small, black bag!

"You know Steve is coming home in a couple of weeks for his annual leave." She was not sure why she said her husband's name, Steve, with some kind of emphasis on S to Jacob! Her tone of voice was incredulous.

"Does it mean that we can't see each other anymore when he comes?" Jacob's face wreathed in a phony smile.

"Of course we can. I don't love him. I feel sorry for him. I didn't know who I loved, who I cared for, but I know it now. I find it out tonight! It is you Jacob! I know you wanted me when we ran away from Chicago! But then we both were kids. I was running from a home that for eight years my father molested me. I didn't know anything about the real love then! I was so cruel! I hated men!"

He waved his hands in protest while being shocked of her openness!

"You're still cruel! How can you marry a man with free will and then say that you don't love him? How can you say that? We haven't seen each other for eight years. Even then when we only ran away with each other, you never showed any interest towards me! I really wanted you then! I was crazy for you; but you never gave me any hint; and then you disappeared without saying goodbye! I looked for you a long time and finally gave up!" His voice was getting animated as he continued with his complaining!!

To Be Continued

JUDAS KISS- Three- Ruby ☘ ☘ ☘ ☘

☖ ☖ ☖

Helen put on her pants suit on and left home. She hanged the jacket of her suit in the back of her car and started the car. It was hellishly hot to wear the jacket; but it was the policy of her company that the people who worked in the office, would wear either pant suit or skirt and a jacket; for men always coat and tie.

She conjured up the days that Jacob and she slept in shelter; sometimes if the shelter was too crowded or some drug addict or alcoholic made a pass on her, they would go to the Catholic Church next door, and slept on one of the pews. She recalled those days that they both worked minimum pay at Safeway Grocery store. It seemed like a long time ago! "Oh, those days!"

But those days had not last long for Helen. When she left Jacob in less than three months after they had arrive in Dallas, she had found a way of making money, a lot of money, a money she would and could not see for a long time. She left Jacob without saying goodbye to him. She left her work without telling her manager, the man, who had hired him, that she was leaving.

Her goal was not to be a dancer or a prostitute, but her new boyfriend, Roger, a black man about forty years old, told her that she was beautiful, that with her natural beauty, blond hair, blue eyes, the perfect figure that she had, and her being at her age almost six feet tall, she could make a lot of money. She did not have to work minimum wage at the grocery store, Roger told her. She was very smart beside being gorgeous, he continued. Helen was mesmerised by him. This was the first time that words like these were touching the chord of her emotion and heart. She recalled the beautiful words her father had told her in order to molest her. At the time she was captivated by her father's words; but now she knew those words were coming out of the mouth of a sick, criminal father, a man, who was supposed to protect her and her sister! Perhaps because of this background and want of easy money, since her job at the grocery store was back braking, she gravitated towards Roger so quickly. She did not say goodbye to Jacob, the poor, innocent Jacob. She really never cared for him. She did not signed off for that day at work or quit. She just left and did not go to the shelter or showed up in the morning.

The black Limousin with its driver was waiting outside in the corner street, where no one from the grocery store could see her was getting into this luxurious car! She was going with another dark and enigmatic man and she did not know it!

"Roger sent me. My name is Mark," The driver of the limousine said.

Later she found out that Mark was the special body guard of Roger. He was also guarded their extravagant home in Highland Park. Mark was a black man, she guessed about fifty or less, he was very soft spoken, and later became Helen's best friend in that house of horror.

Roger was driving in that street one day at the time that Helen and Jacob got off the work. He paused a little, rolled the window down and with a loud voice said: "Hay,"

Both Helen and Jacob turned toward this red Ferrari, with this very sophisticated man behind the wheel, and walked toward the car.

"Yes, did you call us?" Jacob said, Helen standing next to him. Roger sized Helen up and down and thought to himself: "Oh, what a beautiful girl!" But to them he said:

"Young lady do you know where is store here that sells men's shoes?"

Helen felt a little shiver in her body and said: " No, sir!" Roger drove off without saying thank you; But he began going there everyday and walk in the store. He took Helen to lunch one day. Jacob did not know anything about these. It took Roger only one week to convince Helen to go and live with him. So now Helen was in the limousine driving to her dream home and man...

To Be continued

UnfulFILLED- Nineteen- ☄☄☄☄ The Birth

...something so wrong with all of this!"

Ariana was almost pleased with her friend's lecture. She needed to hear that some else besides her noticed the wrong doing, the deceit, the lies, the corruption , and ... had gone to all these since nineteen years ago when he was born in MEHR HOSPITAL. She had a hard time to condemn her parents too much, yet she knew that the things they told her a few days ago could not be true. How a woman with that much feeling, with poetry that made you feel how she felt, naming her first book "ARIANA" that now made sense to her, to be phony. Yes, Roya was right. she had to wait. She had to hear her side.

Ariana, and Roya, were two bodies in one. They had been friends since childhood. They had gone to the same school. They were, but a few months, the same age, even though at this point Ariana was not sure of her exact date of birth; they had gone through the magic of childhood together; and then through selfishness and passion of teenage years. One had fallen in love and off love because of the other had done so. Their families were good friends because of their children not the other way around. Now in a few days they were smuggling out of country with the blessing of their parents together. What attracted one, captivated the other. They always sympathized and empathized for each other but sometimes in a tasteless harmony of manner and a common craving of credence and culmination; after all they were still young, yet mature for their age, and yet again immature compare to older people!

Ariana was thankful that she was with Roya, that she was waiting in her friend's room. Both friends were smuggling. They knew it was the right thing. Their parents told them that it was the right thing. No one with he sound mind wanted to raise their children, even though they were not children anymore, in this chaos and anarchy . They have no chance of going to college, no chance of finding a job, no... They knew this new regime would take away just a little freedom they had. They both knew that in their race, there were some breeds that should leave, should stagger to a different place. Ariana said:

"You know, our little ugly type, weak and stupid, dressed dirty, unshaven, violent, and ready for fight, they all are evils. In fact I call them devil worshipers; they practice it by putting us down, putting someone like my mom down. They think they're clean and holy, but no, no, they're dirty. They think they're fair, but no, no, they're cruel, they're extremely cruel." She paused for a moment and began again:

"Did you see today's paper, not only here in Tehran, everywhere in country, did you see the bodies, the blood, the wounded, the lost children, the dead children? Why are they destroying? What is with burning tires, cars, building? What is the end result of all this? What surprise me more than anything is the women, who are right there and scream for Imam Khomeini. I guess that is their way of ventilating years and years of put down, of oppression, by their men, their fathers, brothers, husbands..."

There was a strange smile on Ariana's face when she said these things to her friend. Roya saw that Ariana's smile shone and reflected a deadly light into her soul. She thought that between the two of them, she had the better bargain!

To Be Continued

UNFULFILLED- Eighteen-✍✍✍ The Price

Success followed Neda after her father's death even though her style of writing changed completely. Her publisher mentioned that to her once.

"Why? You don't like my writing anymore! As I change, my writing changes, too. I am not the same person. How do you expect my writing to stay the same!"

Her publisher did not want to anger her. She had stayed fateful to his publishing company all these years. He had made huge amount of money because of sales of her books. She could have gone to any publisher, and in fact she continuously was getting offer from other publishers. Others wanted her with delight.

When she wrapped her shawl around herself, it seemed as though she was wrapping her cold soul that was there and sometimes was not there. Her terror had gone. She told Kasra one day about that feeling of anxiety that she had had all these years from her father. As unbelievable as it sounded, Kasra understood her.

"You know, Kasra, I felt like an injured animal with a mental wound and a cut throat all these years; now suddenly I find myself without any injury, cut, or bruise and everything around me is without horror. They all have vanished."

One night she had a strange dream. She saw Ariana in her dream. In the dream Ariana was only eight years old. Her eyes were flashing. She looked Neda straight in the eyes. Neda touched both her shoulders. Ariana's face was filled with grief. Her lips were trembling violently.

"Why mother?" She cried.

Neda sat on her bed, shaking. She had sweat all over her body, yet she felt cold. She had to sit up in that position for a while to make sure that she was not asleep anymore; however, she remembered her dream fully and clearly. She recalled what Mansour had told her at her father's funeral. "You chose your poetry over your child!" She thought: "Had he influenced Ariana against me?" But she conjured up that her daughter did not even know that she existed. May be that was for best that she did not know about her real mother, or the switching in the hospital and all the other schemes that went along with it to hide the identity of the woman who gave birth to Ariana.

Now after the death of her father, she had more dreams about her daughter; as though her father was an obstacle or barrier to her dreams when he was alive; and now there was no impediment , no obstruction. As though her father had raised his hands from grave to help her, to tell her that it was okay to dream. But the dreams about her daughter were cruel, unfair, and they all were condemning her. They were all about her action, not her father's or Mansour's actions. In those dreams, her daughter was always blaming her, judging her, questioning her, and at the end disapproving of her.

"Oh, God, how could I know your will...? Who could have helped me, warned me about this? I was just a kid myself! I didn't know. Nobody told me anything! Who should I have asked for help? They took me out of school and put a wedding gown on me! Why wasn't anyone there to tell me to give up a child would become the greatest torture in my life? Why didn't my mother, or aunt said something to me? They are mothers. They knew how it would make me to suffer for ever! Did they think that I wouldn't care, I wouldn't suffer? How childish of them! Why do I have to ask all these empty questions from myself? Why did I have to marry so young and specially to a man that neither of us understood each other? Are these dreams telling me that there is something so terribly wrong loving poetry?"

To Be Continued

UNFULFILLED- SEVENTEEN-✥✥✥ The Old Man

In the hospital, they admitted Jalal at once. The old doctor, who was seeing all the members of this family for everything, from delivering a child, to curing adult or children, being an expert on tonsillectomy or appendectomy since Neda and Sohrab were children, or being a good friend to this family in good or bad time, and knowing all their secrets or having a hand on covering their secret, could not believe his eyes to see that it was Neda and Sohrab, who brought their father to the hospital. He remembered that he had told Sima, the second wife of "AGHA" (which meant sir), that was how he called Jalal, only a few days before that he needed to be in the hospital. Sima, with her hands on her waist had told him:

"It is no big deal, we can take care of him at home."

He had visited him at home, and again had said that the environment Agha was in with all the dust and no air, was not good for him. Again Sima had said that was her decision to make. So having known the devilish mind of Sima, and Mehri, his first wife being completely pushed aside by Sima, this event of the two adult children of Agha to bring him to the hospital was puzzling to him. He knew of many years that the father and children had not communicated; he knew that Agha had taken Neda to court. He was very surprised but happy that finally somebody had brought Agha to the hospital. It were many years that the father and children had no relationship. He was the one that had arranged to get a birth certificate for Ariana, Neda's daughter, that showed she was born six months earlier, since Mitra, Mansour's wife was pregnant at the time of her birth. How was it possible that Mitra could have a child only six months after the birth of Ariana? He had arranged that Ariana was Mitra's baby in all the legal paper. This Doctor, a friend of family, had adjusted all the documents in a way that Neda's name was not mentioned anywhere. It had been Mitra who had a baby, named Ariana, not Neda. And again It was Mitra, who had another baby only ten months after the birth of Ariana.

But now there was no time for any of this reminisce!

They took Jalal to the Intensive Care Unit and immediately hooked him up with all kind of the machines. The old man's breathing was weak and labored. They x rayed his lungs. They drew blood. The did whatever was available to them at the time. The doctor came to a private room that the family were waiting. All of them, including mother, Sima, and Mina, his little girl, who had come with a taxi, were there. But the doctor walked to Neda and Sohrab and said:

"His lungs are filled with water. There is not much hope. He had never recovered from the pneumonia he had in winter. Much scar tissue... so..." The old doctor was obviously very upset.

Neda walked away from everyone. She went outside through the heavy metal door of the hospital. She leaned on a square post; then she began a cigarette. Tears like a storm of spring began flowing down her face. Her mother came outside after her.

"Sima is very angry with you!" She said.

"Mom, all you're thinking about is her! What about your husband? He's dying."

Mehri wiped her daughter's face with a tissue.

"Maybe he deserves it." She said it as if to herself. "How come you, all of a sudden are so concerned about him? You didn't even want to come for visit!"

Neda gave her mother an angry look. Her eyes were blazing.

"So you two were planning his death! Is that it? No matter what he's done to me, I've never stopped loving him."

Mehri did not answer her daughter's accusation. She went inside.

✍

"Lonelier than a leaf which is blown;

With the load of rare happiness which is unknown;

I've flown to the land of death,

I've inhaled the autumn's breath.

When night turns, dizzy breeze

The nostalgic sky of no ease

Remind me of the nights we were alone;

Our souls shivered, we heard a moan.

We pollute each other's day;

With our breath full of dismay.

Now that you're finally here;

Scattered like scent of a rose so dear;

We see nothingness on our way;

We close our lips, we don't say! "

To Be Continued

UNFULFILLED- Sixteen- ☗☗☗ ☗✖The Will

"Aunt Na, I don't like to sleep in that room!"

"I know my love; but you're getting a big boy now. You must!"

Kasra knew one thing, and he knew it well. He knew Neda even better than herself. He knew how to edit her books; and he had become an expert in it. Her writing, like her life, was messy, full of scratches, lines, arrows, and connecting one part at the top or middle or the bottom of the page to another part; which later she would not even understand what she had done. Sometimes she wrote at the edge of the notebook and drew a line and put an arrow at the end of the line. She, herself, mostly did not recall what all these lines and arrows were about; but she had Kasra to figure out all these for her. That was why he was paid. There was no way anyone could put her writings in a form of a finished product; only Kasra was able to do that. He was also able to figure her out, to know her mood swing, to know her wants and needs. Kasra did more for Neda than just being an editor. He would come in the morning, if he had not spent the night there. He would buy grocery on his way that no one had given him the list for them. He was there all day. He cooked the day that Neda did not feel like cooking. At this point he worked only for Neda. The publisher wanted him to. Neda's book was bringing a lot of profit for the publisher. He was paid both by the publisher and Neda. She was always generous with people that were her friends and helpers; she paid him very well. She never missed giving him his monthly check. She had never asked him about his family, his back ground, anything at all the years he had worked for her. He was as unknown to her now as he had been when he had started. He was given to her by her publisher and that had been the beginning of this strange relationship. If he was not there, sometimes she would call him early in the morning. She knew what time he would leave home. He had an old American car, a Chevrolet.

"Kasra, they all are coming here tonight for dinner!" She always spoke as she thought:

"Stop at the grocery store. What do you think we should make?" and on and on. And it was always Kasra, who would come with dinner plan and what kind of grocery they needed; what was for dessert; by the way they needed wine; and Neda needed cigarette.

So the statement that Kasra knew Neda better than herself and even her brother and Maryam, was very true. These days kasra besides editing her books, was the organizer of her writings, her shopper, her lover, sometimes her cook, and the person who knew all Neda's confidential business. He had also had become her fashion designer with he help of Goly, the secretary.

"You need a new outfit for next week interview." He would say to her. He even knew her size, her taste, and the colors she liked. Goly loved to help Kasra to buy a new outfit for Neda, since she was getting all her clothes from Neda. They were almost the same size.

On the other hand, Neda perhaps took him for granted. It was not only the friendship, being her editor, or lover that he wanted to be. He wanted more than that; but he never had the courage to tell her that he was in love with her for such a long time. It was hard to deal with a person like Neda, with the brilliant, yet scattered mind that she had. Kasra wanted to tell one day:

"Let's get married!" He knew that Neda would take that as a joke and laugh it out. Therefore he thought, "why bother!" He knew it was not his look since many times Neda had told him that he was a very handsome man. He was only eight years older than her, so he knew that was not an issue either. In the final analysis, he knew that Neda was not a person for commitment, marriage, taking some one's name, or identity. Her obligation was only to her writing and to her nephew. As well as Kasra knew her, there was something that he did not know about her and that was about her searches for her daughter. He recalled that even one time he questioned her about Ariana, and her answer was rude and angry:

"This subject should never be discussed again! do you understand?"

To Be Continued

UNFULFILLED- Fifteen- ᚙᚙ The Silent Heart

Years changed; they came; they left. When Neda looked back to all those years form the time of her marriage at age sixteen, to now, almost twelve years after, they all looked like a short period, yet they were long, tiring, and boring. She was waiting! Would it be a day that the door opened and Ariana walked in and Neda recognized her right away? Would it be a day that by chance they would meet in the street and by luck they would know each other? "All the women out there, who envy my life, and because of that you call me horrible names, I change place with you in a heartbeat just to have my child with me!"

As Neda grew older, and with that many changes happened to her, her patience, her love for Ariana, and her poems also changed.

Years came and then they disappeared as if they never existed. She joined this group of mountaineers and paid a monthly fee to be a member. There were plenty of them in Tehran of those days. Those people called themselves intellectuals of the time. They travelled north. She wanted to do it on her own; but Sohrab and Kasra convinced her to join this group. One day when she returned from one of these trips, she thought to herself: "Everyone in this group are couples except me. I am all alone. I've always been all alone." She sighed. "Would it be a day that I climb the mountain with Ariana?" She sat at her desk and wrote:

ᚕ

"Towards the night,

The time that the site

Is subdued by a blaze,

Yet mystical dying rays,

So overpowering and mystic,

That even this city looks artistic.

ᚑ

Towards the night,

The time for the artificial light,

Someone may die;

Someone may soar to sky

When the twilight of the day,

Will live all the way.

ᚘ

Towards the night,

In my thoughts with delight

My little child

Brings to my pride

The seeds I planted in earth;

The time I didn't know hurt.

ᚖ

Towards the night,

I always invite

Hands that touched mine;

And brought me sunshine.

But I won't know tomorrow

When night arrives, my sorrow

Will be for the death

Of a hand that gave me breath."

☁

Neda was a prolific poet. She already had seven published books and many others which were not yet but would soon. All the writings were scattered around her apartment. She was still living in the same apartment since they had separated from her parents. She answered Sohrab one day when he asked her why she was not changing her place, or even buying a house:

"Why?"

To Be Continued

UNFULFILLED- Fourteen-❡❡❡ Beyond Grace

Neda's editor, Kasra, an attractive, young man, about thirty, came to her apartment almost everyday. Neda's writing like her mind and soul was scattered and all over the place. sometimes she wrote at the side border of a book she was reading. Kasra was the one worked with her on her dispersed, and dispelled writings for hours, which soon they would become manuscripts. Neda returned the favor by asking him to stay for dinner. Evening meals were not only food for nourishment, but it was getting together of all these young people after a day of work to talk with each other, to have a little laugh, or drink wine, a glass or two. When the evening meal was over and everyone was done with his or her work, mostly they sat around and talked about Neda's success at such a young age. Kasra told them how the publishing world worked. He told them the publishers were all business men. They were after making money. For them, there was no place for a really good writer that nobody would read her or his writing; even though Neda was not only among the good writers but people bought her books.

"There are a lot of good books that never are published." He would say to them.

With all the rumors and controversies that surrounding Neda's personal life, they kept publishing her books as long as she would attract people's curiosity. Kasra everyday brought with him the cut off pieces of newspapers, magazines, or literary journals that had said something about Neda. Those pieces were mostly untrue things about her life, not her poems. Sometimes they all laughed of so many untrue events that people had sworn to seen about Neda. Like this woman, who wrote a lot, was saying that she knew where Neda was meeting her secret lover. However every so often Kasra would find some nice thing about her. Neda started a journal. She glued all these cut off articles about her in that book, good or bad; and she arranged them by date not by their nastiness. Everyone was surprised that she was not offended what people told about her. Those passages that people had written about her were important to her for the sake of history. As young as she was, she knew that she would be a part of future history of Persian poets, a book that was not written yet! That was why she made that journal. They were not important to her for their contents. One evening she told the other three:

"I don't care what they say about me; as long as they read my poems, I am happy."

Maryam and Sohrab always laughed when Neda talked like this and told her that her life experience which had practically started at age fifteen, had made her skin thick.

Neda and Sohrab had not seen their father for two years now, They had not seen Sima or their little half sister, Mina, either. Their mother, Mehri, and Maryam's mother, Zari, now would come only once a week and always together. Every thing was normal in the sense of what normalcy was in Neda's view. A conformity that had had a big price for Neda. She had paid dearly to be where she was while she could had had this without marriage and a baby.

Then it came an evening that Maryam and Sohrab got engaged. Kasra, Neda's editor was there, too, for the party. He brought flowers for Maryam and cut off piece of article for Neda. They were also were celebrating Sohrab's graduation for the two years college. Neda made a cake; it was much harder than she had thought. By now she had mastered the art of cooking, but this was the first time she made a cake. The cake broke in several places when she was taking it out to put in a dish she wanted to serve. She patched the cake with the icing and fresh fruits.

Neda gave money to Sohrab so he could buy a ring for Maryam. They had all become very straight forward people. They never hold anything back. They said what it was in their minds. While cutting the cake, kasra unexpectedly said:

"I read this article that in Western countries, cousins don't get married. It says because of their blood line, it is not good for cousins to have children." He was blunt, especially now when they were celebrating the cousins' engagement. Neda thought it was tackles of Kasra to say such a thing at such an evening.

"I've heard it, too." Sohrab began. "You know here in our country, cousins have gotten married for ever; and frankly I don't care. I have yet to see a deformed child because of the marriage of two cousins!"

"Just thought to tell you what I've read." Kasra answered as if to himself.

"Enough Kasra!" Neda finished the subject and poured more wine in every one's glasses. She picked up hers and made a toast:

"To Sohrab and Maryam, and let's their disagreements wouldn't be so much!" Every one laughed, and sipped their wine.

❧❧❧

To Be Continued

UNFULFILLED- Eleven- >^<>_ Free of Chain

The mechanical succession of days and night Made Neda's heart to ache. The passing of the time was like a compulsory servitude, a repetitive moving of hours; and they were all so hard for her to endure.

Anything she looked at was the same as before, yet they all had changed. Today and yesterday were the same; yet there was a great ocean between them. She tried hard by herself to figure out this great difference. It came to her as a shock. Things of past were simple, natural, colorful, and bright. Things of today were dark, polluted, and lonely. Was she being frightened mostly loveliness, like her father used to say that there was something lovely about a woman who is frightened? Future was unknown and scary; therefore, she could not borrow from it to help her through this ordeal of present time. She thought as complicated as her life had been at such young age, for sure her future should have its own tribulation!

New year and its brawl was over and gone. Oh, how much she used to life the Nou Rouz, the beginning of the spring. The aroma of violets that each spring her mother planted in the yard, the tulips, the lilies, the irises which all spurted out of earth and made everything lovely with their mixed perfumes. She saw through her window that the birds were returning. She used to put food for them all over the yard; but now she could not go more than once a day down the stairs; and even that one was with so much difficulties. Sometimes Sohrab, her brother would carry her in his arm, so she did not have to ascend or descend the stairs. The birds' calm and yet powerful movement impressed her. Even these little creatures were stronger than her. She envied their strength; she envied their uniqueness.

She had between two to three more weeks left of her pregnancy. The doctor said that he could not be sure since Neda had always had a very irregular periods. There was a mysterious future, two weeks, or three, did it matter? How would she feel when it was all done and Mansour and Mitra would take over her possession! Was the baby a thing? She had carried it; she had gone through the pain and misery of it! Shouldn't she have a fair share of it? What was this feeling that was taking over her? She had said that she did not want it; she did not care for it! Had she said lies?

The future was a mystery to her. She never tried to fathom it. Just by itself the present was meaningful and telling. From the beginning of her courtship with Mansour to the end which would be the birth of her baby and handing it to him in a tray seemed like a dream, like it never had happened. Now she saw that she had lost that which she held; that she had rejected the newly impassioned, newly kindled human being she had fed for almost nine painful months; that they demanded her to give, the black law of the land ordered that she should give away this thing that was hers and hers alone. She almost did not want to give birth.

To Be Continued