My Bird

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9 4 I go. He goes. We go. “To go” is the only verb that Amir is constantly conjugating. Damn this luck! We have not quite had a taste of staying in one place, and he is thinking about going again. Shahla says, “Amir’s elephant is dreaming of India again.” I say, “His is not an elephant. It is a rhinoceros. The rhinoceros always goes alone. I wish I also had an elephant that was dreaming of India or some place closer.” Amir is moving toward the future. He loves the future. He dislikes the past. Especially a girlish past that does not include climbing the walls, riding a bicycle, or neighborhood kids playing soccer, a past full of whispers, gossip, and women’s games, a past that ends in dark basements and closets . Amir is not willing to take even one step back with me. I don’t like the past either. It is sad because the past likes me! Sometimes it climbs up on my back like a monster, with no intention of ever climbing down. I thought that after marrying Amir I could knock the monster down. I wished getting rid of it were as easy as losing my virginity. One night, one of those nights that fantasy overpowers reality and sincerity rules, I told Amir about the creature hanging onto my back. I felt like a hunchback that wanted 10 | Fariba Vafi to reveal the secret of her hump. Amir interrupted my ramblings . Have I loved anybody before him? He got his answer and lay down like a happy man. But I was not finished yet. I was still talking when, half asleep, he covered my mouth with his hand. “Itisnotimportantwhotheotherswere,andwhattheydid. Only you are important, and from now on you are mine.” His gesture was charming, but behind his loving tone there was a hint of boredom. I realized that he would not go anywhere with me. I was shocked; loneliness and dismay filled the space between Amir and me like a second wife. Many days had to pass for us in order to leave each other alone and to conjugate the verb “to go” separately for ourselves. ...