My Bird

28

75 28 Shadi is doing her homework. “Maman, what do you want to be when you grow up?” I say, “Don’t chew on the pencil.” She takes the pencil out of her mouth. “OK. Tell me.” “I am already a grown-up.” Now she has put the pencil in between her toes. “I have already become what I wanted to be.” Shadi takes the pencil out of her toes. “Maman . . .” She pushes her bangs away. “Be serious.” I think, “Well, . . . I want, I want . . .” All of a sudden I say, “I want to be a dancer.” Amir lifts his head up from the newspaper and looks at me. I repeat what I said, and ask Shahin to put some music on so I can start practicing immediately. I get up and dance. First I imitate Mahin. The kids laugh. They clap and Shadi jumps up and down like a monkey. They ask for another dance. “Imitate Aunt Ashraf!” I push the table aside to make more room. The kids have stopped doing their homework. The house is filled with joy. Amir says, “You should have said ‘a clown.’” Now, I quit imitating and start dancing like I used to. Imagining I am dancing in a special and unfamiliar place 76 | Fariba Vafi makes me excited. For a few seconds I forget where I am. I am twirling so fast that no one can even catch up with me. All of a sudden I stop. “Have I become what I wanted?” I am frozen like a windup doll that all of a sudden goes completely unwound, with my arms still stretched open. Shahin yells, “Maman should dance.” The kids are getting rowdy. They have turned up the music. I bend over shaking my hair like when I get out of the shower. Starting again, I dance even faster than before. ...