Daughter of Sheena 59

2015-11-29

Daughter of Sheena-59

Memories of Qadamkheyr Mohammadi Kanaan

Wife of Sardar Shaheed Haj Sattar Ebrahimi Hajir

Memory writer: Behnaz Zarrabizadeh

Tehran, Sooreh Mehr Publications Company, 2011 (Persian Version)

Translated by Zahra Hosseinian

Chapter Nineteen

It was Esfand (March). Samad, who had gone to the front and it was supposed came back two or three days later, hadn’t still returned after twenty days.  On the other hand, my father-in-law also hadn’t backed. It was a dismal afternoon. The children were watching television. It had been a little warmer. It was thawing little by little. Many had been prepared for house-cleaning, but I wasn’t in a mood for doing anything. I said to myself: “Samad backs today or tomorrow. I’ll be in mood for doing my works, when he comes back. We then both will do house-cleaning and also go shopping and buy new clothes for kids.” I remembered the skirt that I had bought it yesterday with my brother. Again I was worried. Why did it. Why I bought a black skirt for the Nowruz. Yesterday morning, my poor brother picked me and my children up and took us to the bazaar to buy clothes for New Year’s celebration. First I refused. “Samad himself will come and buy clothes for kids.” I said. He insisted. “Let's go then at least you buy something.” Finally he said, “I'm your older brother.” Still, near the feast of Nowruz, brothers buy something as a bonus for their sisters in the village customarily. I didn’t want to break his heart, but I don’t know how chose a black skirt among all those beautiful and colorful dresses. “Sister, do what you please, but it’s better to choose a colorful dress or blouse, or whatever else.” As if my brother didn’t like it too.

I said: “No, this is good.”

As soon as I came home, I regretted and wished that I had listened to him and not bought a black skirt. I consoled myself again, and said it’s no matter. When Samad come back, we both will go and changed it. Instead, I’ll buy a colorful skirt or dress.

Kids were watching TV. Khadija, who was doing her homework, said: “Mom! Uncle Shamsollah came noon, when you had gone out to buy bread. He took off our album from closet and chose a photo of dad.”

I got upset and asked: “Why didn’t you tell it earlier?! ...”

Khadija looked down and said: “I forgot.”

I went mad. Why Mr. Shamsollah had come to our house and without my allowance had searched into our wardrobe and taken Samad’s photo. I was sunk in these thought when heard someone opened the door.

Kids happily got up and ran toward the door. Mahdi joyfully shouted: “Dad! Dad came.”

I didn’t know how I reached to the stairwell. I was surprised by what I saw. My father-in-law had opened the door and come in. My brother, Amin, was with him. I asked in surprise: “Samad is with you? Samad has come too?”

My father-in-law had become older and was dusty. In tantrum he said: “No ... we’ve come alone. Samad stayed at the front.”

I asked: “How did you open the door? You didn’t have the key!”

My father-in-law was embarrassed. He said: “... the key ...! Yeah, we don’t have it, but the door was open.”

I said: “No, it wasn’t open. I’m sure. Afternoon, I went out to do shopping and shut it when I backed. I’m sure I shut it.”

My father-in-law was frustrated. He said: “Certainly your mind was on other things, and then kids have gone out and left the door open.”

Although I was sure it was closed, but didn’t want to stand up to him. I asked: “So, Where’s Samad?”

Impatiently he said: “at the front!”

I said: “but it was supposed to come back with you within two or three days.”

“Arriving to the zone, we were separated.” He said, “Samad went to do his works. I don’t hear about him. I was looking for Sattar and didn’t find him.”

I thought that my father-in-law is so angry, because he didn’t find Sattar’s body. I offered them to go in. But I was so worried. I said myself, if he tells the truth, so, how he has come with my brother! Amin was in Qayesh! I know that he had been in Qayesh. Lest a bad thing has happened!

I asked again: “do you tell the truth that you haven’t heard about Samad? Is he good?”

Indignantly, my father-in-law said: “I said that I heard nothing. I'm so tired and I want to sleep. Pleas spread a bedclothes for me.”

I asked in surprise: “want to sleep? It’s very soon. Let me to make a dinner.”

He said: “I'm not hungry. I am very sleepy. Spread bedclothes for me and your brother.”

Children were jumping around their uncle. I asked him about Sheena. He didn’t answer properly. I said myself, “lest a bad thing has happened for Sheena.” I swear my brother and said: “please tell me the truth, Sheen is ok?” like my father-in-law, Amin also was frustrated and said: “in the name of Allah, nothing has happened and she is fine. Do you want I bring her tomorrow, so to put your mind at ease?”

I didn’t say anything else and I went to spread bedclothes for my father-in-law. When he slept, asking my brother to take after my kids, I went to Mrs. Darabi’s house. I filled her in on and said: “I want to call the Army’s office and inquire about Samad.”

Mrs. Darabi who always offered her phone generously and gave me an opportunity to call without ceremony by going out the room, this time sat by the phone and said: “Let me dial.”

I sat down in front of her. She continuously dialed and then cut it off. “Line is busy!” She said, “as if the lines are broken down.”

Within half-hour I sat down there and looked at her dialing. It was like her mind was on other thing. She muttered to herself. Dialing one or two, she cut it off. “If it’s busy,” I said, “I go and will back later. Kids are with my brother; giving their dinner and then will back.”