Daughter of Sheena (41)

2015-7-26

Daughter of Sheena-41
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

This time he was punctual and came back home about twenty days later. He showed more affection than before. He took Mahdi wherever he went. “I know Mahdi is a naughty boy and bothers you.” He said. One day he hugged Mahdi as usual and took him, but they hadn’t still gone that I heard Mahdi’s crying from the alley. Shocking I ran into the alley. Mahdi was in Samad’s arms and crying. “What's wrong?” I asked.

He said: “See how much your son has become naughty. He’s opened glove compartment and wants to eat canned food.”

I said: “Well, give it to him. He’s just a baby.”

He put Mahdi in my arms and said: “I’m no match for him. You silence him.”

I said: “Give canned food to him, he would fall silent.”

He said: “What do you say? In front they’ve given it to me to eat and fight. Now that I am on leave, eating it is wrong.”

I kissed Mahdi and tried to calm him down. “Well, I like that. You’ve taken life so hard. It’s not like what you say. Either there or here, this canned food is your portion.”

Out of Mahdi’s sight he took out canned food from glove compartment and put it into trunk.

He said: “Why we do things doubtfully.”

I was spending the last month of my pregnancy. This time Samad had promised to be with me at delivery time, but there was no news of him. It was Azar and a heavy snow had fallen. I woke up early in the morning. Quietly, without wakening children, I wrapped my whole belly up with a large woolen shawl, and my head with a scarf, which Samad had bought me, and knotted it behind my head. Also, I wore his overcoat and put a hat on my head so that to be like a man from away and no one realized that a woman was shoveling snow. I went into the courtyard. Snow was heavier than that I thought. I took a ladder from the corner of courtyard and leant it to the edge of roof. I put two bricks on the foot of it. With one hand I held snow shovel and with other hand I caught ladder and climbed its stairs one by one. I prayed that the ladder wouldn’t slip, before my baby and I were finished. Finally, I reached to the roof. There was still no one on the roofs for shoveling. I was happy. Now neighbors would not see me on that state.

Shoveling such heavy snow was very difficult for me. After a while, I realized it’s a tough job, but I had to shovel by hook or by crook. I pushed the snow shovel across the roof to reach to the edge, and then I threw snow into the alley.

Shortly after, my abdomen was in pain. I said myself that I’ve shoveled half of the roof, I must finish it. If snow would leave on the roof, it’s leaking and caused trouble for me. Each time I would push snow shovel to the front, part of the roof was cleaned. Sometimes I stood, held my frozen hands in front of my mouth to be warm up. My mouth’s steam spiraled up. Although my body had become hot, but my face and the tip of my nose was tingling from the cold. It was almost finished that suddenly my back caused me a lot of pain, became hot, and I felt something like a cord, was torn in my belly. I didn’t understand how I dropped snow shovel and climbed down the ladder. I had been very scared. I felt that umbilical cord has been torn and now something bad happened. Children were still asleep. My back gave me a lot of pain. I muttered: “O Hazrat Abbas! Please help me.” Without changing my clothes I slipped under my quilt and pulled it near my throat.

At that time I did not know what to do; getting up and go to the hospital or ask help from my neighbors. But it was too early to ring the doorbell of theirs. The pain in my back increased and now my entire abdomen was in pain. I wish my Khadija was a grownup. I wished my Masumah could help me. Numbness was begun from my feet; thumb fingers, legs, feet, hands and all my body. I didn’t understand anything. Last moment I just muttered: “Oh, Hazrat Abbas! ...” and I didn’t remember that I could finish my sentence, or not.

With dusty head and face and unkempt hair, Samad had stood in front of me. He said hello. I could not answer. Not that I didn’t want, I had no energy left for speaking.

He said: “Is baby born?”

Again, I couldn’t answer.

He sat down beside me and said: “Once again I’m late? Is there anything the matter? Why don’t you answer? Are you sick, do you feel ill?”

I saw him, but I could not speak a word. He had stared at my face and calmly slapped me a few times. Then he shouted: “Oh, Hazrat Zahra! Qadamkheyr, Qadamkheyr! It’s me, Samad!”

Suddenly, as if I might jump out my bed, I opened and closed my eyes several times and said: “Samad, this is you? Do you come back?!”

Baffled, Samad looked at me. “What's wrong?” He took my hand and said, “Why are you so cold? Why are you as cold as ice?”

I said: “I was shoveling snow; I don’t know what happened for me. I think I fainted.”

I asked: “What time is it?”

He said: “Ten o’clock.”

I looked around and saw kids are still asleep. I could not believe that from six o'clock in the morning, or perhaps even earlier, I had slept.

Samad slapped on his head and said: “What have you done with yourself? Do you want to commit suicide?”

I could not move my body. My hands and feet were still numb.

He asked: “Have you eaten anything?”

I said: “No, we have no bread.”

He said: “Now I go and buy.”

I said: ‘No, don’t go. Sit down next to me. I'm afraid. I’m not fine. Do something. Go to next-door and bring Miss Golgaz here. I think we should go to the doctor.”

He became embarrassed. He wandered around the room talking himself and prayed. He said: “Oh, Hazrat Zahra! Please help me. Oh, Hazrat Zahra! I want my wife from you. Oh, Imam Hossein! Please help me.”

I said: “Do not worry, nothing is the matter. If it’s supposed something came along to me, it had happened till now.  It’s not still the time of childbirth.”

He said: “Qadamkheyr! May God have mercy on me! May God forgive me! It is all my fault; I made such a trouble for you.”

Again I experienced the same state, numbness of my hands and feet and then drowsiness. He came toward me, took my hand and shook me: “Qadamkheyr! Qadamkheyr! Qadamkheyr, honey! Open your eyes. Talk with me. Why do you go to a lot of trouble? Qadamkheyr! Qadamkheyr! Qadamkheyr!...”

To be continued…