My Bird

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72 27 A woman who cheats on her husband can look like anybody except Manijeh. A woman who cheats cannot pay attention to everybody, the way Manijeh does. A woman who cheats cannot enjoy the scent of her daughter’s hair and kiss her the way Manijeh does. She says, “Why don’t you take care of yourself? Why don’t you ever leave this house? Why don’t you come and visit us? Go shopping or to the park?” I laugh and set the plate of cookies on the table. “You should be asking yourself these questions.” She pretends not to hear me. “You are going to get really bored and depressed.” I say, “I know, but the dead do not come back to life by going to the park or by wearing more makeup.” Then I blurt out, “But maybe by falling in love.” I blush a little. She looks at me doubtfully. I am not sure whether she doubts herself or me. She says, “Who can find love?” “You talk like Amir. Amir believes that love saves people, but here nobody can save anybody. Overly busy and unfortunate people start a relationship and call it love. But this is more lust than love.” M Y B I R D | 73 It is now Manijeh’s turn to blush. “It is not just lust.” What is it then I want to know? I am thinking about treating her with coffee instead of the usual tea, but I want her to come clean first. To make her talk, I say, “Maybe it is companionship, short-term relationships like going for short trips.” I remember my own imaginary trips. “I can’t really call them trips; they are more like going a little further than the park.” She sighs, “I don’t know.” Now it is my turn to doubt. Maybe Manijeh doesn’t even have what I think she is hiding like a jewel. She only has a sick husband with a dark, suspicious heart. In that case, I should make her some coffee. That is what I do. Singing, I walk barefoot in the kitchen from one side to the other. Manijeh has brought the plate close to her face and is staring at the pattern. The kids are playing a noisy game. She says, “What an interesting plate!” I don’t understand what she means. I look at the plate in her hand. She laughs. “He will leave you. You know he will. You should leave first before you are left alone and turn into a loser.” She fans herself with the plate. I feel I shouldn’t say anything. Her trust is not complete . She may get scared and pull in like a turtle. I nod my head, pretending that I understand her, but in reality, I don’t. 74 | Fariba Vafi So, a few minutes later I say, “It won’t happen by changing where you live. You will have the same problems in the next place.” “How do you know?” She is right. How do I know? How many times have I changed houses? How would I know what I’ll be like in another life? ...