Nadia Hashimi - The Pearl that Broke Its Shell

“You think he wants us to get married?”

“I don’t know what he’s thinking. He left the house after that and he hasn’t come home yet. God knows where he is.”

Parwin came out of the house with the second load and started hanging sheets on the clothesline. She reached the twine with difficulty. Most of the sheets she tossed over and then pulled the corners from below. Shahla looked as if she were about to help her, then paused, deciding against it. When Parwin finished, she looked up at the sky, blocking the sun with her hand, and mumbled something under her breath.

I thought of a conversation I’d once overheard. Khala Shaima and my mother thought no one was awake but I was having a hard time sleeping.

“That’s why it’s important for these girls to go to school, Raisa. They’ll have nothing otherwise. Be wise about it. Look at me and think of what might happen to Parwin.”

“I know, I know. I worry about her more than the others.”

“As you should. I was passed over despite everything Madar- jan did. All the friends she talked to, all the special prayers. And look at me, wrinkled and alone. No children of my own. Sometimes I think it’s worked out best for me that your husband is away so much, that ass. At least it gives me more chances to come and spend time with your daughters.”

“They love having you around, Shaima. They hunger for your stories. You’re the best family they have.”

“They’re good girls. But be realistic. Before you know it, you’ll have to seriously consider the suitors. Except for Parwin. You’ll be lucky if anyone comes for her.”

“She’s a beautiful girl.”

“Bah. The porcupine feels velvet when she rubs her baby’s back. You’re her mother. Parwin -e-lang . That’s what she is. Allah as my witness, I love her as much as you do, but that’s what people call her and you have to be honest with yourself and realize it. Just like I’m Shaima -e-koop . I’ve always been Shaima the hunchback. As long as she goes to school, that at least gives her something. At least she’ll be able to pick up a book and read it. At least she’ll have a chance to know something other than these four walls and the smell of her father’s opium.”

“She would make a good wife. And mother. She’s a special girl. The way she draws, it’s as if God guides her hands. Sometimes I think she still talks to angels, the way she used to when she was a baby.”

“Men have little need for special girls. You should know that.”

I couldn’t imagine Parwin married any more than I could imagine the rest of us married. I drifted off to sleep after that. I dreamed of girls in green veils, hundreds of them, climbing up the mountain to the north of our town. A stream of emerald on the trail to the summit, where, one by one, they fell off the other side, their arms outstretched like wings that should have known how to fly.

In a three-room house, I couldn’t expect to avoid my mother for long. I saw her puffy lip, her long face, and hoped she saw the remorse in mine.

“Madar- jan … I… I’m sorry, Madar- jan .”

“It’s all right, bachem . It’s as much my fault as it is yours. Look at what I’ve done to you. I should have put a stop to this long ago.”

“But I don’t want you to—”

“Things will be changing soon, I’m sure. I’m afraid everything is out of my hands now. We will see what naseeb, what destiny, God has in store for us. Your father acts rashly and it doesn’t help to have your grandmother whispering things into his ear.”

“What do you think he’ll do?” I asked nervously. I was relieved my mother wasn’t angry with me. She lay on her side, my baby sister next to her. I resisted the urge to curl up with them.

“Men are unpredictable creatures,” she said, her voice tired and defeated. “God knows what he’ll do.”

Shekiba faced a new dilemma. She wanted to take the deed to the local hakim but she didn’t know if Azizullah would allow such an act. Maybe he would. Men were, after all, unpredictable creatures.

She decided against asking Azizullah for permission but that meant she needed to get herself to the town’s hakim . She had overheard his name in conversations between Azizullah and his brother, Hafizullah, but she had no inkling where she would find this man. Then there was the issue of getting to him. What possible excuse could she make this time?

“How was your visit with your family?” Marjan asked.

“It was pleasant,” Shekiba answered. She was elbow-deep in hot, sudsy water, washing the children’s clothes.

“And how was Bobo Shahgul? Is she in good health?”

“Yes,” said Shekiba. Unfortunately, she thought.

“And the rest of the family? Did you see everyone? All your uncles?”

“I saw Kaka Zalmai, Sheeragha and Freidun. My other two uncles are still away in the army.”

Marjan stood over her, a finger on her lip as she pondered something. Shekiba purposely avoided her gaze.

“You know, I ran into Zarmina- jan, your uncle’s wife, at the hammam last week. She told me that she was surprised that you wanted to visit your family for Eid.”

Shekiba’s neck muscles tightened.

“She said that you did not adjust well to Bobo Shahgul’s house after your father’s death.”

Khala Zarmina. What are you up to?

“Were you angry to be sent here?”

Shekiba shook her head.

“Well, I hope not. This was an arrangement that everybody agreed to so I hope that you are not intending to carry out the same kind of behaviors here in this home.”

Shekiba felt a fire burn in her belly. “This is a different place,” she said in a bitter voice.

“Good. Just be warned that we do not tolerate disrespectful behavior. I will not have my children learning… such things!”

Shekiba nodded.

But Marjan was uncomfortable with her. Maybe Khala Zarmina had said something more.

She prepared the family’s dinner and ate quietly in the kitchen. She liked to listen to the children bickering with each other. Amid the din, she heard Marjan tell Azizullah that she had something she needed to discuss with him later.

Shekiba knew it would be about her.

In the night she heard Marjan’s soft yelps and knew that Azizullah was taking his wife. This was something Shekiba had learned in her grandmother’s house. From where she slept in the kitchen, she could hear the same grunts and pants through the wall and would see Kaka Zalmai emerge from their room refreshed while Samina avoided Shekiba’s gaze and busied herself with her children. The women often joked about it when the children were out of earshot but they did not mind Shekiba hearing them.

“You’ve been working on that sweater for over a week, Zarmina! When are you going to finish?”

“Sounds like what I hear you saying to your husband in the middle of the night, Nargis!”

Laughter and a hand clapped against someone’s back. Shekiba listened closely, intrigued by the rare moments of camaraderie amongst the women.

Nargis giggled and shot back without hesitation.

“Mahtub- gul can hardly see beyond her huge breasts to know what is happening below.”

Laughter again. Samina looked in Shekiba’s direction and seemed uncomfortable to have her in the room. Zarmina noticed and raised her teacup.

“I wouldn’t worry about her, Samina dear. Remember, she was her father’s son so it’s in her best interests to learn the way things are from women. Imagine if you had no idea what your wedding night had in store for you! Let her be aware.”