Through the window she could see one of the canaries pecking at the other’s head. The two others tried to retreat. Peck, peck, peck. They tried to fly from one side of the cage to the other but hadn’t enough room to flap their wings more than once before they crossed the cage. Contained. Three caged canaries singing.
Aasif came home that night. Shekiba kept her door open to listen in on their conversation.
“There will be a wedding in three months’ time. The palace is preparing for a monumental event.”
“I wonder how many people they will invite.”
“Plenty. And it will be all the most important families of Kabul. His fiancé’s family is well respected and they carry a great deal of clout. They could not have chosen better for Amanullah.”
“What is her first name? I know her aunt, Aalia Tarzi. I have seen her in the market from time to time and she is a friend of my cousin Sohaila. Aalia-jan speaks very highly of her niece. She was educated while they lived in Syria. I wonder what kind of queen she will be.”
“It’s a powerful match, Amanullah and Soraya Tarzi, although I know Habibullah is not thrilled that his son is taking Agha Tarzi’s daughter.”
“Why is that?” Gulnaz asked.
“Tarzi writes what he thinks. And what Tarzi thinks is not always what Habibullah thinks. But the problem is Tarzi thinks Habibullah is not doing enough to bring Afghanistan to modern times. He thinks we should look to Europe and learn from them.”
“But we are a different people. We are a Muslim country. Why should we learn from them?”
“Because they are making progress and we are not. Habibullah has made some roads but not much else. Tarzi wants science, education — and not just the religious kind. But Amanullah, his ears are open to Tarzi’s ideas.”
“But, Aasif-jan, he is not king.”
“He will be. I don’t see his brothers taking the position. Amanullah has been groomed for this since a young age. He’ll make a much finer king than his father, who spends his days quail hunting and riding around the countryside for attention.”
Gulnaz sighed. Her husband detested the king and she feared his dislike would eventually be the subject of gossip. If it did, he could expect no mercy. And he had already done enough to jeopardize them. He didn’t talk about it and Gulnaz wasn’t sure if her suspicions were true. She’d heard things from others. A stoning. One of the king’s concubines. She would not ask him about the girl. She did not want to know more.
Aasif saw his wife’s eyes turn away. He knew her burdens were his doing.
“Anyway, I’m busy with my own work. I don’t have time to be Amanullah’s counselor anymore.” His way of saying he would stay away from the palace.
Gulnaz looked at the door, pictured the hallway and the scarred woman hiding in the far room, her husband’s other wife. She wondered if her husband’s plan would work or if he had only added another barren wife to his home.
Shekiba listened carefully to every word. Amanullah was to marry Agha Tarzi’s daughter. She marveled at her own naïveté.
Why should he look at me? I’m no one. I have no father or mother, no family name. I am a half woman with a half face. How stupid I was to believe anything else!
Shekiba waited till Aasif had gone out before she went to the kitchen to fix herself some food. The spinach and rice she had made earlier had cooled but she didn’t care. She took a piece of bread and retreated to her room. She moved about so quietly that Gulnaz almost didn’t hear her from the living room.
In the night, Shekiba woke with a start. Aasif was in her room again. The door stood open behind him while he considered walking back out. Shekiba’s heart galloped. She prayed he was here only to talk some more. She did not move.
He closed the door and Shekiba pressed her eyes shut, hoping to ward him off. He sat next to her, with his back to her face for a few moments. Shekiba felt his presence. Her body was tense.
What does he want?
Aasif sighed and turned to her.
“Shekiba,” he whispered. “You are my wife. You have an obligation to fulfill.”
Shekiba did not answer. His voice was raspy and low. He did not sound like himself.
She clutched her blanket tightly with her two hands, knowing she had no right to resist. She was his wife and she had a responsibility to lie with him, even if it terrified her. Her breathing quickened. He turned toward her and pulled the blanket away. Shekiba could keep her eyes closed no longer. She saw him, saw him looking at her nightgown, the thin white cotton that surrendered without a fight. He undid the drawstring of his pants and lifted her hem over her hips. Shekiba pressed her back into the mattress, wishing she could melt into the floor. A wave of panic rolled over her body as Shekiba closed her eyes, clenched her teeth and became Aasif’s wife.
CHAPTER 56. SHEKIBA
In a way it was a relief. She knew now what to expect. He came to her infrequently and briefly, leaving when he had finished his grunting and sighing to sit in the living room. Sometimes he retreated back to Gulnaz. Shekiba always avoided Gulnaz the following morning, embarrassed and feeling as if she had committed an offense against her.
Her only reprieve was her bleeding. Only then could she whisper in the dark, her face flush with humiliation, “Forgive me, I have illness.”
He understood right away and would leave her chambers, seemingly relieved. Only last night was different. She had started bleeding two days ago.
“I have… I have illness,” she said softly, pushing her thighs together.
But he didn’t leave. Instead he sat again with his back turned toward her. He put his head in his hands.
“Things are not going well. Why are you still having your illness? Are you lying about it?”
Shekiba was surprised. His voice was gruff. “No, I would not lie about… about such a thing.”
“What happened to all that talk? All the talk about the women in your family and the lines of sons they birthed? You’ve been here for five months and you are still having your illness!”
Shekiba once again realized just how simple she was. That was the reason Aasif had taken her from the palace. Gulnaz had given him no children at all. He didn’t want Shekiba — he wanted sons.
“I… I… it was not talk. I had brothers… I—”
“This is a joke! How can this be possible? They were going to execute you. Do you understand that? Do you understand what you escaped?”
Shekiba understood better than anyone what she had escaped. She had been close enough to see the blood seep through Benafsha’s burqa and pool in the earth. She understood exactly what she had been spared.
“I understand.”
“Do you? Do you really? What are people to say? Two wives and not a single son! Do you know what that does to me?” He was livid. Gulnaz could hear him through the thin walls. She turned on her side, knowing that Shekiba was receiving the anger that he intended for them both. “A harem guard! Did you like being a man? Maybe that’s what it is! You liked being a man so much that now you refuse to be a woman! What are you? You are not a man! You are not a woman! You are nothing! Do you have anything to say for yourself? Where’s all the boasting now?”
“I… I…” Shekiba did not know what to say.
“I feed you and clothe you and for nothing! This is what you do to me! I should throw you out on the street! I should throw you back to the palace and let them do with you what they planned! You and your cursed face! Damn you!”
Shekiba braced herself for the blow but it never came. She cowered in a corner of her mattress. Aasif stormed out and slammed the door shut behind him. A few seconds later, Shekiba heard glass breaking and the metal gate clanged loudly. Her throat clenched, she could not help but agree with her angry husband.