“Well, it seems that you’re pregnant now. The sickness will pass, you’ll see, but other things will change for you.”
I felt light-headed. Jameela took me by the arm and sat me down on a stool in the courtyard.
“It’s all right, dokhtar-jan,” she said. “Every woman goes through the same thing. All of us. This will help you, you’ll see. Your husband and mother-in-law will be pleased. Bearing children is a wife’s duty.”
One that Parwin had not fulfilled. Maybe that was why they had made her life so miserable. I wondered if Bibi Gulalai would treat me any better knowing this.
“I don’t want anyone to know!” I whispered. I didn’t want anyone to look at me differently. I felt ashamed.
“Do not say anything to anyone. It’s not proper, anyway. We don’t speak of these things. Keep quiet, do your work and let Allah handle the rest. In a few months you will see your child, if Allah wills it. May God keep you in good health,” she whispered at the end.
I had no idea what was ahead of me. Jameela looked worried, even as she tried to comfort me. In her wisdom, she kept from me the troubling things she’d seen before she was married. Her uncle had married two girls around my age. When the first delivered her child, she bled for three days until her veins went dry and she could bleed no more. Her baby, with no one to nurse him, followed her ten days later. His second bride survived childbirth but the baby had ripped through her immature body, leaving a hole in its wake. Her husband, repulsed by the constant trickle of urine down her leg, said she was “unclean” and sent her back to her family to hide from the world in shame. Young mothers did not fare well but Jameela did not want to frighten me.
I took Jameela’s advice but before long Shahnaz recognized the way my nose turned at the smell of food.
“You’re pregnant!” she laughed haughtily. “Now you’ll see how tough life can really be!”
Some days I hated her more than Bibi Gulalai. She shared the news with Badriya, knowing it would make her even more spiteful toward me. If I brought a son into Abdul Khaliq’s compound, her husband and mother-in-law might not treat me as the lowly servant in the house. I doubted much would change. Bibi Gulalai looked at me as one would look at a flea-infested dog yapping at one’s feet.
But surprises were always around the corner and a month later, I was permitted visitors. I wasn’t sure if it was because my mother-in-law had learned I was with child. I was shocked to see Khala Shaima standing in our courtyard, looking around with a suspicious eye. Behind her stood Parwin, clutching her chador at her chin and keeping her eyes downcast, a model of modesty. I dropped the heap of laundry I was carrying and ran over to them. It felt so good to see their faces, though I prayed they wouldn’t be able to see the change in mine. I didn’t want to share the news with them.
I held Parwin’s hand tightly. Khala Shaima balked when I tried to kiss her hand. She grabbed my shoulders and looked me over, assessing the changes of the past few months.
Khala Shaima shook her head and sighed when she saw my full face and rounded belly. My baby was three months away. She didn’t look surprised in the least.
“Are you feeling all right?”
I nodded. We didn’t speak any more on the matter. I was thankful for that.
Satisfied that I was at least whole and fed, she pulled me aside so we three could talk with some privacy. I had so many questions for her. She was my link to my past life.
Our first meeting was bittersweet. Or sweetbitter, which better represented the order of things. I was thrilled to have them here but I knew how painful it would be when they left. Parwin and I couldn’t get close enough to Khala Shaima.
“How’s Madar-jan? Why didn’t she come with you?”
“Your mother is fine. You know how she is. She manages things inside the house but she’s been kept under your father’s thumb for so long that sometimes she forgets to stand on her own two feet.”
“What about Rohila and Sitara?” Parwin asked. “Do they ask about us?”
“Of course they ask about you! They are your sisters. That hasn’t changed just because you’re living somewhere else now! Don’t listen to the garbage that some people say about girls belonging to other people. Bah! Girls belong to their families and always do. You have a mother and sisters and nothing changes that — I don’t care who you’ve married.”
We nodded but I looked around quickly to make sure no one was within earshot. I knew enough about Khala Shaima to know that her fiery comments invited trouble.
“But why didn’t Madar-jan come then? Is she all right? Doesn’t she miss us?”
“Of course she misses you! She’s… well, you might as well know. She’s been very upset since you girls left. She’s been so upset that she started taking some of your father’s medicine.”
“She what?”
“That’s how things go sometimes. Listen, girls, when things are rough, people look for an escape. A way out. Sometimes it’s hard to find the right way. Your father’s escape has been that damned medicine and now your mother too. It was just a matter of time. It’s in front of her face every day.”
I was angry. Madar-jan was going to be just like our father. I pictured her glassy eyed and snoring on the couch, Rohila looking after the baby.
“What about all the money? What are they doing with it?” I asked bitterly.
“They divided it up. Of course, your father took most of it but he gave some to his brothers and your grandfather. They feasted on greasy meals, showed off around the village thinking it’s going to change the way people look at them. God knows what else he’s spending it on. I know your mother hasn’t had a finger on any of it.”
“What about Shahla? Have you heard anything about her?”
“No, I asked your father about her since he’s more in touch with that family than anyone else but he just says she’s doing all right. He hasn’t seen her. So far away, that poor thing. At least you girls have each other.”
“But, Khala Shaima, I never get to see Parwin! She’s so close but it’s like she’s on the other side of the world.”
“Hmph. Still? Well, I’ll just have to stop by more often so we can all see each other then. How are they treating you girls otherwise? Parwin?”
“I’m all right, Khala-jan. They’re treating me just fine,” she said so sweetly that no one would have believed it.
Khala Shaima’s eyes narrowed. “Your mother-in-law? Does she beat you? Do you get enough to eat?”
“She’s kind to me, Khala Shaima. She shows me how to do things and I eat plenty. Most of the time I’m not hungry anyway.”
Khala Shaima turned to me, unsure what to make of Parwin’s answers.
“I’m all right, Khala-jan. My mother-in-law, Bibi Gulalai, she’s hit me a few times but I’ve figured out how to keep her happy. And she can’t hit very hard anyway, that old witch.” I lowered my voice instinctively. Bibi Gulalai always seemed to pop up when I least wanted her to.
“Witch is right,” Khala Shaima hissed. “Damn these people, taking such young girls.”
“Khala Shaima, can you promise to come often? I miss seeing you so much!” I blurted. Parwin nodded her head in agreement.
“Of course. I’ll come as often as I can with this damned back of mine. Somebody’s got to keep an eye on you girls. Abdul Khaliq may be the biggest man in this village but you girls have a family too. I want to make sure these people know that.”
Her words, her presence, were such a relief, although it did nothing to change our daily life.
“And maybe you could tell us more about Bibi Shekiba?” I asked.