Nadia Hashimi - A House Without Windows

No, Basir thought, even the babies of scorpions could rest assured they had their mother’s love.

He should have destroyed the whole lot. There was no room for mercy when it came to creatures who could kill grown men with a twitch of the tail. Basir should have doused the mother and her babies with cooking oil and thrown a matchstick at them. It was an effective means of eliminating scorpions and provided decent entertainment for most children, listening to the pops and snaps of a scorpion’s shell cracking in the flames.

But Basir felt a bit of guilt. He’d kept her locked up and cornered for months only because he’d suspected that she just might go against all that seemed natural and consume her own young. He’d been wrong. Even scorpions knew how to mother.

He made the long walk back to Ama Tamina’s house with the box, hiding it in a grove behind the clay walls so that his cousins wouldn’t stumble upon it. It was riskier to keep it here. He would take the box to the edge of the village in the morning where there was nothing but rocky expanse and free them there.

Kaka Fareed was waiting for him in the courtyard. He’d made a habit of stopping by Ama Tamina’s house to ask for updates on Zeba’s case.

“Where have you been?”

Basir felt a heat rising in his chest. It took a great deal of strength not to run back out the front gate. He could still picture Kaka Fareed’s fingers around his mother’s neck.

“I was out for a walk,” he mumbled.

“Why didn’t your ama know where you were? You’re living in this house. You don’t come and go as you please.”

“I’ll apologize to her,” Basir said as he stepped toward the door. He wanted to leave before Kaka Fareed said anything more. This was the third time he’d dropped by since Basir and his sisters had come to their aunt’s home. Even she breathed a sigh of exasperation when he showed up.

Last time he was here, he’d called Zeba a thief and a murderer. Kamal had owed him money, he swore, and Zeba had probably killed him so she could pocket it all.

Basir didn’t need to do much investigating to know this was a lie.

When Kaka Fareed called his mother a cheat, Basir bit his lip. It was on the tip of his tongue to scream out that she was no such thing, but that’s not what came out. All he could do was shout for Kaka Fareed to stop talking about her.

“Where were you?” Kaka Fareed asked again. He sucked at his teeth and cocked his head.

“Nowhere, Kaka- jan . I was just walking. I wanted to get some air.”

“You’re as bad a liar as your mother,” he said snidely.

Basir bit his tongue so hard he tasted blood. Fareed began to rant, as if his anger had been mounting while he waited for Basir to return to the house.

“Just like your mother. Lies, lies, lies. Watch yourself or you’ll end up a criminal like her. That whore deserves to die. God help us with these judges and courts that sit on their asses all day instead of doing anything. We used to have real justice in this country. It’s gone now, and that bitch is getting fat in a prison while we look after orphans. She killed him. I should have killed her when I had the chance.”

Until now, Basir had done nothing more than leave the room when his father’s cousin went on tirades about his mother’s character. He and his sisters were dependent on their father’s family and Basir harbored a fear that they might be turned out onto the street if they spoke up on their mother’s behalf.

It was hard enough to hear Kaka Fareed call his mother a cheat or a murderer. It was quite another to hear her called a whore. Basir’s young pride rose up in defiance.

“Eat shit,” Basir said quietly but precisely, his body trembling. Kaka Fareed, without a second’s hesitation, landed a backhanded slap across Basir’s face.

“You son of a whore!”

Ama Tamina burst into the courtyard at the sound of her cousin’s booming voice. She saw Basir on the ground, his hands covering his face. She saw Fareed’s red-rimmed eyes glowering over him, ready to strike again. She stepped between them and flicked the end of her head scarf over her shoulder.

“Fareed, what’s happened?”

Kaka Fareed ignored her questions and kept his eyes trained on Basir.

“Both Kamal and his wife cheated me out of money. Now their freeloading kids are here, and this one has the nerve to talk back to me. I’ll teach you a lesson!”

Fareed lunged at Basir.

Ama Tamina stepped in front of him, her outstretched hands in protest.

“You will not touch him!” she shrieked.

Fareed was furious. Basir scrambled to get to his feet. His aunt was only half Fareed’s size.

“Cousin, move out of my way! This is between me and Kamal’s boy. Are you forgetting that they killed your brother?”

Ama Tamina’s voice shook, but she did not budge.

“You’re not here to defend Kamal’s honor. You hated him. The two of you couldn’t be in the same room together unless you were both too drunk to see straight.”

“Shut up!”

“It’s the truth. You come here now and want to recover some century-old debt from his children? Get out of my house. I don’t care if you are my cousin. I’m not going to let a drunk torture my nephew!”

Fareed brought himself within an inch of Ama Tamina’s face. It took every ounce of resolve she could muster not to step back.

“You crazy woman,” he said slowly. “You can’t talk to me like that!”

Basir stood next to his aunt. All this felt too familiar. It was the same tension he’d experienced in his own home on a thousand occasions.

“It’s my home and I’ll talk as I please!” Tamina responded.

What Fareed would have done next would remain unknown, for at that precise moment, Kaka Mateen emerged from the house. He’d heard the shouting and seen the way Fareed towered threateningly over his wife’s slight frame. He grabbed Fareed by the back of the neck and shoved him toward the door.

“What are you—” Fareed blurted.

“Get out of our house!” Mateen roared. Fareed threw his hands up in defeat.

“You deserve these children of dogs.”

Basir had never missed his mother as much as he did in that moment, in his aunt’s dark courtyard, the air thick with resentment and anger.

Fareed was gone. The girls were peering out the door, half faces looking out to see what had happened.

Ama Tamina cleared her throat.

“Girls, get back inside. It’s late and you should have been in bed already. Let’s go.” She shooed them back into the house. “There’s nothing more out here.”

“I. . I’m sorry, Ama- jan, ” Basir said hesitantly.

His father’s sister turned to face him, her lips drawn tight in anger. She had every reason to hate them. Kaka Fareed was right. She had lost her brother and their mother had been locked up for his murder. How could she not resent Zeba’s children?

“Stop,” she groaned. “That’s enough for tonight.”

Kaka Mateen put his hands on his hips.

“What was he so worked up about anyway?”

“This boy,” Tamina said quietly. “Coming in at this time of night and not saying where he’s been.”

“I. . I just wanted to go for a walk,” he mumbled. “I should have told you, but I didn’t want to disturb anyone.”

“Fareed hated Kamal, and he’s taking out his anger on the rest of us now.” Tamina sighed. Her voice had steadied some.

Basir felt the urge to say something. His aunt had stepped forward on his behalf and he needed her to know that he appreciated that. If she decided to see him and his sisters as Zeba’s children and not her nieces and nephew, they would be in dire straits. He could not provide for his siblings. “Ama Tamina- jan, I. . I just wanted to say sorry. I’m sorry this happened because of me. I know you’re upset with my mother but. .”