“I don’t know about New York - putting oneself in so much danger of Satan,” Sharazad had said. But in her secret heart she trembled with excitement at the thought. I’ll go to New York with my son, she promised herself. Tommy will be there. Soon we’ll be normal again, the power of the mullahs over Khomeini will be broken, may God open his eyes, their control of the Green Bands eliminated, the Revolutionary Komiteh disbanded, we’ll have a true, fairly elected democratic Islamic government with Prime Minister Bazargan its leader under God, women’s rights will never be touched again, the Tudeh no longer outlawed but working for all and there will be peace in the land - just as he said would happen.
I’m glad I am who I am, Sharazad thought. “Hello, darling Meshang, how nice you look today but so tired, oh, you mustn’t work so hard for all of us. Here, let me pour you some more cool lemon and water, just the way you like it.”
“Thank you.” Meshang was lounging on the carpets, propped against cushions, his shoes off, already eating. A small brazier was ready to barbecue the kebabs, and twenty or thirty dishes of horisht and rice and vegetables and sweetmeats and fruit were within easy reach. Zarah was nearby and she beckoned Sharazad to sit on the carpet beside her.
“How do you feel today?”
“Wonderful, not the least bit sick.”
Meshang’s face became sour. “Zarah was sick all the time, and moping, not like a normal woman. Let’s hope you’re normal, but you’re so thin… Insha’Allah.”
Both women put on a smile, hiding their loathing, understanding each other. “Poor Zarah,” Sharazad said. “How was your morning, Meshang? It must be terribly difficult for you with so much to do, so many of us to look after.” “It’s difficult because I’m surrounded by fools, dear Sister. If I had efficient staff, trained as I am, it would all be so easy.” And so much easier if you had not beguiled my father, twisted him, failed your first husband, and disgraced us with your choice of the second. So much anguish you’ve caused me, dear Sister, you with your consumptive-looking face and body and stupidity - me who has worked all hours to rescue you from yourself. Praise be to God my efforts have borne such fruits! “It must be terribly hard for you, Meshang, I wouldn’t know where to start,” Zarah was saying and she was thinking, Simple to run the business providing you know where the keys are, the bank accounts, the debtors’ paper - and all the skeletons. You don’t want us to have equality and the vote because we’d easily work you into the joub and take the best jobs.
The rich lamb horisht and crisped golden rice was delicious, fragrantly spiced just as he liked, and he ate with enjoyment. Mustn’t eat too much, he told himself. I don’t want to get too tired before little Yasmin this afternoon. I never realized how succulent a zinaat could be, or lips so grasping. If she gets with child then I shall marry her and Zarah can rot. He glanced at his wife. Immediately she stopped eating, smiled at him, and gave him a napkin to take the grease and dribbles of soup from his beard. “Thank you,” he said politely and once more concentrated on his plate. After I’ve had Yasmin, he was thinking, after her I can sleep an hour and then back to work. I wish that dog Kia was back, we’ve much to talk about, much to plan. And Sharazad will ha - “Meshang, dearest, did you hear the rumor the generals have decided to launch their coup,” Zarah asked, “and that the army’s ready to take over?” “Of course, it’s all over the bazaar.” Meshang felt a twinge of anxiety. He had hedged as best he could in case it was true. “The son of Mohammed the goldsmith swears his cousin who is a telephone operator at army headquarters overheard one of the generals saying they’ve waited to give an American task force time to get in range, and it’ll be supported by an airborne landing.” Both women were shocked. “Parachutists! Then we should leave at once, Meshang,” Zarah said. “It won’t be safe in Tehran, we’d better go to our house in the Caspian and wait for the war to end. When could you leave? I’ll start packing immed - ”
“What house on the Caspian! We don’t have any house on the Caspian!” Meshang said irritably. “Wasn’t it confiscated along with all our other property that we worked generations to acquire? God curse the thieves after all we’ve done for the revolution and for mullahs over the generations?” He was red in the face. A dribble of horisht went into his beard. “And now…” “Do forgive me, you’re right, dearest Meshang, you’re right as usual. Do forgive me, I spoke without thinking. You’re right as usual but if it pleases you we could go and stay with my uncle Agha Madri, they have a spare villa on the coast, we could take that and we could leave tomorr - ” “Tomorrow? Don’t be ridiculous! Do you think I won’t have enough warning?” Meshang wiped his beard, somewhat mollified by her abject apology, and Sharazad thought how fortunate she had been with her two husbands who had never mistreated her or shouted at her. I wonder how Tommy’s getting on at Kowiss or wherever he is. Poor Tommy, as if I could leave my home and family and go into exile forever.
“Of course we bazaaris will have warning,” Meshang said again. “We’re not empty-headed fools.”
“Yes, yes, of course, dear Meshang,” Zarah said soothingly. “I’m sorry, I only meant I was worried for your safety and wanted to be prepared.” However foul he is, she thought, her insides fluttering, he’s our only defense against the mullahs and their equally vile Green Band thugs. “Do you believe the coup will happen?”
“Insha”Allah,” he said and belched. Either way I’ll be prepared, with the Help of God. Either way, whoever wins, they’ll still need us bazaaris, they always have and always will - we can be as modem as any foreigners, and smarter, some of us can be, certainly me. Son of a dog Paknouri, may he and his fathers be in hell for endangering us! The Caspian! Her uncle Madri’s a good idea, the perfect idea. I would have thought of it myself in a moment. Zarah may be used up and her zinaat as dry as summer’s dust, but she’s a good mother and her council - if you forget her foul humor - is always wise. “Another rumor’s that our glorious ex-Prime Minister Bakhtiar is still in hiding in Tehran, under the protection and roof of his old friend and colleague, Prime Minister Bazargan.” Zarah gasped. “If the Green Bands catch him there…” “Bazargan’s useless. Pity. No one obeys him anymore, or even listens to him. The Revolutionary Komiteh would execute both of them if they’re caught.”
Sharazad was trembling. “Jari said there was a rumor in the market this morning that Excellency Bazargan has resigned already.”
“That’s not true,” Meshang said shortly, passing on another rumor as though it were private knowledge. “My friend close to Bazargan told me he offered Khomeini his resignation but the Imam refused it, telling him to stay where he was.” He held out his plate for Zarah to give him some more. “That’s enough horisht, a little more rice.”
She gave him the crisped part and he began to eat again, almost replete. The most interesting rumor today, whispered in enormous secrecy from ear to ear, was that the Imam was near death, either from natural causes or poisoned by Communist Tudeh agitators or mujhadin or CIA and, even worse, that Soviet legions were waiting just over the border ready to march into Azerbaijan again, and on to Tehran the moment he was dead.
Nothing but death and disaster’re ahead if that’s true, he thought. No, that won’t happen, can’t happen. The Americans will never let the Soviets conquer us, they can’t allow them to take control of Hormuz - even Carter will see that! No. Let’s just hope the first part’s true - that the Imam is going to Paradise quickly. “As God wants,” he said piously, waved the servants away, and when they were alone he turned his full attention onto his sister. “Sharazad, your divorce is all arranged, but for the formalities.” “Oh,” she said, at once on guard, hating her brother for disturbing her calm, sending her brain into overdrive: I don’t want to divorce, Meshang could easily have given us money from all the Swiss accounts and not been so nasty to my Tommy and then we could have gone - don’t be silly, you couldn’t leave without papers and exile yourself and Tommy left you, it was his decision. Yes, but Tommy said it would be for a month, didn’t he, that he’d wait for a month? In a month so many things can happen.