Market Day




I just needed a little more time, a moment only, to answer Melek's question, though not to make up an answer. I had that ready. I always had the answer ready because the question was always the same.

I needed time to compose my face into a mask of perfect submission. He expected women to be submissive.
I turned away from the window and faced him, my eyes downcast and my posture stooped, and whispered, "No, my husband. I do not know the name of the man in the market who bumped into me and said 'Excuse me.' He was nothing. He was a nobody."

I knew what his next accusation would be; by then, I could have recited this tired, familiar script in my sleep.

"How did you know he was a nobody if you didn't look at him, eh? Did you raise your eyes and look him in the face? Are you my wife or a whore?"
Cue the kettledrums. Cue the dancing bears. This was where I lowered my head and wailed a protest of innocence to be followed by a walloping slap and a punch to my ribcage.
Soon, after he left to meet his cousins in a cafe, I removed my hijab shawl, sweater, blouse and the precautionary extra padding I kept taped to my ribs. I slipped into a warm bath. Leisurely, I washed my limbs, my hair, my face. Leisurely, I perfumed myself.

Leisurely, I re-read the note that had been slipped into my sweater pocket that morning: "I breathe and live another day in the hope of seeing you."

Comments

  1. Teresa Scott March 11, 2019 at 9:27 PM

    “...and the next day, Melek was stabbed in the marketplace.” The End

    At least this is how I hope Malek’s story ends. 😂

    ReplyDelete
  2. Ron.March 11, 2019 at 9:35 PM

    Great work, G. I'm with Teresa.

    ReplyDelete
  3. metheothertwinMarch 13, 2019 at 10:24 AM

    A dangerous game she plays- would like to see where this goes

    ReplyDelete
  4. Mary DansakMarch 16, 2019 at 6:17 PM

    So happy about that ending. And that little padding under her clothes.

    ReplyDelete

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