Daughter of Sheena (30)

Behnaz Zarrabizadeh

Daughter of Sheena-30
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 Fourteen
The day after, in the morning, Samad went out for a little shopping. When he came back, I saw that he had purchased two or three kilograms of meat, two raw chickens, vegetables and a lot of fruit.
I said: “So much meat! We have guest? What's going on?”
He said: “This time, when I go to the front, I won’t come back two or three months if I stay alive. Maybe I don’t come back until Nowruz, Maybe by the end of the war.”
I said: “Oh... don’t say like this! Maybe the war lasts a couple of years.”
He said: “No, God forbid. However, they need me much more there. I‘ve come back home these few days just for the sake of you and babies.”
I put the meat into the sink and turned on the faucet. I said again: “You’ve really bought so much meat. Babies don’t eat too much food, they’re also too much for me.”
He went into the hall, sat babies on his feet, and began to play with them.
I said: “Samad!”
Into the Hall, he said: “Yes my darling!”
I smiled and said: “Let’s go somewhere this afternoon. I look very blue. I’d been at home more than usual and I have a heavy heart.”
He said very quickly: “Do you want to go to Qayesh just now.”
I turned off the faucet and put the lean and pink meats into strainer. I said: “No ... not Qayesh …, as soon as we get there, you disappear. I wanna go to a place where there would be only you, our babies and I.”
Hugging babies, he came to the kitchen and said: “Whatever you say. Where?”
I said: “Let's go to the park.”
He put aside the curtain of kitchen, looked out, and said: “It's cold. It’s late October, honey! The babies will get cold.”
I said: “Right, it’s late October, but the weather is fine. It’s not too cold.”
He said: “Ok. We’ll go this very afternoon. So … do you let me go to the Revolutionary Guards office? I’ll back soon. I have an urgent business.”
I laughed and said: “Since when do you ask me for the permission to go to the Revolutionary Guards office?!”
He smiled and said: “I’ve got these few days for the sake of you. It’s your right. If you don’t let me go, I won’t.”
I said: “Ok, go. Just come back soon, right?”
He swiftly put Masumah and Khadija down on the floor and wore his uniform. Babies followed him and cried. I hugged them. On the staircase, Samad had bent and was closing his boots’ laces.
I asked: “What do I cook for lunch?”
He had tied his boots’ lace and was going down the stairs. He said: “Abgoosht.”
First, I dealt with babies. I changed their diaper, fed them, and put some play things in front of them. Then I got busy with my house works. I chopped meat, cooked the Abgoosht and then was busy washing the vegetables.
It was 12:30. I had done all my works. Lunch was ready. The smell of Abgoosht with sun-dried lime had been filled the house. I folded the spread and placed the bowels of yogurt and pickles and also a dish of vegetable on it. Babies were hungry. I fed them with some of that Abgoosht. They felt full and went to a corner of room and began playing with their toys.
I lay down beside the spread and kept my eyes glued to the door. It was near 2 pm and Samad hadn’t come. Suddenly I jumped out of my bed by Masumah’s cry. It was three o'clock in the afternoon. I had slept by the spread. Babies had rowed with each other and were crying. The bowels of pickles and yogurt and the dish of vegetable had been overturned in the center of spread. I got mad, but they were just babies and didn’t wise up. I folded the spread and brought it to the kitchen. Then I washed babies’ hands and faces. I changed their clothes which had smelled of pickles and yogurt. I gave milk to Masumah and put her to bed. Khadija also ate some food and fell asleep. I threw a blanket over them and got busy. I washed the spread. For dinner, then I cooked cutlet. It was darkening little by little. I was busy saying myself what can I say to Samad when he came back home. I was mad with him. I had to speak.

To be continued…