"You'll get used to it," Rasheed said. "With time, I bet you'lleven like it."They took a bus to a place Rasheed called the Shar-e-NauPark, where children pushed each other on swings and slappedvolleyballs over ragged4 nets tied to tree trunks. They strolledtogether and watched boys fly kites, Mariam walking besideRasheed, tripping now and then on the burqa's hem. Forlunch, Rasheed took her to eat in a small kebab house near amosque he called the Haji Yaghoub. The floor was sticky andthe air smoky. The walls smelled faintly of raw meat and themusic, which Rasheed described to her aslogari, was loud. Thecooks were thin boys who fanned skewers5 with one hand andswatted gnats6 with the other. Mariam, who had never beeninside a restaurant, found it odd at first to sit in a crowdedroom with so many strangers, to lift her burqa to put morselsof food into her mouth. A hint of the same anxiety as the dayat the tandoor stirred in her stomach, but Rasheed's presencewas of some comfort, and, after a while, she did not mind somuch the music, the smoke, even the people. And the burqa,she learned to her surprise, was also comforting. It was like aone-way window. Inside it, she was an observer, buffered7 fromthe scrutinizing8 eyes of strangers. She no longer worried thatpeople knew, with a single glance, all the shameful9 secrets ofher past.
On the streets, Rasheed named various buildings withauthority; this is the American Embassy, he said, that theForeign Ministry10. He pointed11 to cars, said their names andwhere they were made: Soviet12 Volgas, American Chevrolets,German Opels.
"Which is your favorite?" he askedMariam hesitated, pointed to a Volga, and Rasheed laughedKabul was far more crowded than the little that Mariam hadseen of Herat. There were fewer trees and fewergaris pulled byhorses, but more cars, taller buildings, more traffic lights andmore paved roads. And everywhere Mariam heard the city'speculiar dialect: "Dear" wasjon insteadof jo, "sister"becamehamshira instead ofhamshireh, and so on.
From a street vendor13, Rasheed bought her ice cream. It wasthe first time she'd eaten ice cream and Mariam had neverimagined that such tricks could be played on a palate. Shedevoured the entire bowl, the crushed-pistachio topping, the tinyrice noodles at the bottom. She marveled at the bewitchingtexture, the lapping sweetness of it.
They walked on to a place called Kocheh-Morgha, ChickenStreet. It was a narrow, crowded bazaar14 in a neighborhoodthat Rasheed said was one of Kabul's wealthier ones.
"Around here is where foreign diplomats15 live, richbusinessmen, members of the royal family-that sort of people.
Not like you and me.""I don't see any chickens," Mariam said.
"That's the one thing you can't find on Chicken Street."Rasheed laughedThe street was lined with shops and little stalls that soldlambskin hats and rainbow-coloredchapans. Rasheed stopped tolook at an engraved16 silver dagger17 in one shop, and, in another,at an old rifle that the shopkeeper assured Rasheed was a relicfrom the first war against the British.
"And I'm Moshe Dayan," Rasheed muttered. He half smiled,and it seemed to Mariam that this was a smile meant only forher. A private, married smile.
They strolled past carpet shops, handicraft shops, pastryshops, flower shops, and shops that sold suits for men anddresses for women, and, in them, behind lace curtains, Mariamsaw young girls sewing buttons and ironing collars. From timeto time, Rasheed greeted a shopkeeper he knew, sometimes inFarsi, other times in Pashto. As they shook hands and kissedon the cheek, Mariam stood a few feet away. Rasheed did notwave her over, did not introduce her.
He asked her to wait outside an embroidery18 shop. "I knowthe owner," he said. "I'll just go in for a minute, saymysalaam. "Mariam waited outside on the crowded sidewalk. She watchedthe cars crawling up Chicken Street, threading through thehorde of hawkers and pedestrians19, honking20 at children anddonkeys who wouldn't move. She watched the bored-lookingmerchants inside their tiny stalls, smoking, or spitting into brassspittoons, their faces emerging from the shadows now and thento peddle21 textiles and fur-collaredpoosiincoats to passersby22.
But it was the women who drew Mariam's eyes the most.
The women in this part of Kabul were a different breed fromthe women in the poorer neighborhoods-like the one where sheand Rasheed lived, where so many of the women covered fully23.
These women were-what was the word Rasheed hadused?-"modern." Yes, modern Afghan women married tomodern Afghan men who did not mind that their wives walkedamong strangers with makeup24 on their faces and nothing ontheir heads. Mariam watched them cantering uninhibited downthe street, sometimes with a man, sometimes alone, sometimeswith rosy-cheeked children who wore shiny shoes and watcheswith leather bands, who walked bicycles with high-risehandlebars and gold-colored spokes-unlike the children inDeh-Mazang, who bore sand-fly scars on their cheeks androlled old bicycle tires with sticks.
These women were all swinging handbags and rustling25 skirts.
Mariam even spotted26 one smoking behind the wheel of a car.
Their nails were long, polished pink or orange, their lips red astulips. They walked in high heels, and quickly, as if onperpetually urgent business. They wore dark sunglasses, and,when they breezed by, Mariam caught a whiff of their perfume.
She imagined that they all had university degrees, that theyworked in office buildings, behind desks of their own, wherethey typed and smoked and made important telephone calls toimportant people. These women mystified Mariam. They madeher aware of her own lowliness, her plain looks, her lack ofaspirations, her ignorance of so many things.
Then Rasheed was tapping her on the shoulder and handingher something here.
It was a dark maroon27 silk shawl with beaded fringes andedges embroidered28 with gold thread"Do you like it?"Mariam looked up. Rasheed did a touching29 thing then. Heblinked and averted30 her gaze.
Mariam thought of Jalil, of the emphatic31, jovial32 way in whichhe'd pushed his jewelry33 at her, the overpowering cheerfulnessthat left room for no response but meek34 gratitude35. Nana hadbeen right about Mil's gifts. They had been halfhearted tokensof penance36, insincere, corrupt37 gestures meant more for his ownappeasement than hers. This shawl, Mariam saw, was a truegift.
"It's beautiful," she said.
* * *That night, Rasheed visited her room again. But instead ofsmoking in the doorway38, he crossed the room and sat besideher where she lay on the bed. The springs creaked as the bedtilted to his side.
There was a moment of hesitation39, and then his hand was onher neck, his thick fingers slowly pressing the knobs in theback of it. His thumb slid down, and now it was stroking thehollow above her collarbone, then the flesh beneath it. Mariambegan shivering. His hand crept lower still, lower, his fingernailscatching in the cotton of her blouse.
"I can't," she croaked40, looking at his moonlit profile, his thickshoulders and broad chest, the tufts of gray hair protrudingfrom his open collar.
His hand was on her right breast now, squeezing it hardthrough the blouse, and she could hear him breathing deeplythrough the nose.
He slid under the blanket beside her. She could feel his handworking at his belt, at the drawstring of her trousers. Her ownhands clenched41 the sheets in fistfuls. He rolled on top of her,wriggled and shifted, and she let out a whimper. Mariam closedher eyes, gritted42 her teeth.
The pain was sudden and astonishing. Her eyes sprang open.
She sucked air through her teeth and bit on the knuckle43 ofher thumb. She slung44 her free arm over Rasheed's back andher fingers dug at his shirt.
Rasheed buried his face into her pillow, and Mariam stared,wide-eyed, at the ceiling above his shoulder, shivering, lipspursed, feeling the heat of his quick breaths on her shoulder.
The air between them smelled of tobacco, of the onions andgrilled lamb they had eaten earlier. Now and then, his earrubbed against her cheek, and she knew from the scratchy feelthat he had shaved it.
When it was done, he rolled off her, panting. He dropped hisforearm over his brow. In the dark, she could see the bluehands of his watch. They lay that way for a while, on theirbacks, not looking at each other.
"There is no shame in this, Mariam," he said, slurring45 a little.
"It's what married people do. It's what the Prophet himself andhis wives did There is no shame."A few moments later, he pushed back the blanket and left theroom, leaving her with the impression of his head on herpillow, leaving her to wait out the pain down below, to look atthe frozen stars in the sky and a cloud that draped the face ofthe moon like a wedding veil.
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1
skull
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| n.头骨；颅骨 | |
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hem
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| n.贴边，镶边；vt.缝贴边；(in)包围，限制 | |
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suffocating
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| a.使人窒息的 | |
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ragged
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| adj.衣衫褴褛的，粗糙的，刺耳的 | |
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skewers
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| n.串肉扦( skewer的名词复数 )；烤肉扦；棒v.（用串肉扦或类似物）串起，刺穿( skewer的第三人称单数 ) | |
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gnats
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| n.叮人小虫( gnat的名词复数 ) | |
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buffered
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| [医]缓冲的 | |
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scrutinizing
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| v.仔细检查，详审( scrutinize的现在分词 ) | |
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shameful
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| adj.可耻的，不道德的 | |
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10
ministry
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| n.(政府的)部；牧师 | |
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pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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Soviet
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| adj.苏联的，苏维埃的；n.苏维埃 | |
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vendor
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| n.卖主；小贩 | |
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bazaar
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| n.集市，商店集中区 | |
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15
diplomats
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| n.外交官( diplomat的名词复数 )；有手腕的人，善于交际的人 | |
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16
engraved
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| v.在（硬物）上雕刻（字，画等）( engrave的过去式和过去分词 )；将某事物深深印在（记忆或头脑中） | |
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17
dagger
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| n.匕首，短剑，剑号 | |
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embroidery
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| n.绣花，刺绣；绣制品 | |
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pedestrians
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| n.步行者( pedestrian的名词复数 ) | |
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20
honking
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| v.（使）发出雁叫似的声音，鸣（喇叭），按（喇叭）( honk的现在分词 ) | |
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21
peddle
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| vt.(沿街)叫卖，兜售；宣传，散播 | |
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passersby
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| n. 过路人(行人,经过者) | |
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fully
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| adv.完全地，全部地，彻底地；充分地 | |
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makeup
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| n.组织；性格；化装品 | |
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rustling
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| n. 瑟瑟声，沙沙声 adj. 发沙沙声的 | |
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spotted
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| adj.有斑点的，斑纹的，弄污了的 | |
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maroon
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| v.困住，使（人）处于孤独无助之境；n.逃亡黑奴；孤立的人；酱紫色，褐红色；adj.酱紫色的，褐红色的 | |
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embroidered
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| adj．绣花的 | |
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touching
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| adj.动人的，使人感伤的 | |
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averted
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| 防止，避免( avert的过去式和过去分词 )； 转移 | |
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emphatic
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| adj.强调的，着重的；无可置疑的，明显的 | |
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jovial
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| adj.快乐的，好交际的 | |
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jewelry
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| n.（jewllery）（总称）珠宝 | |
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meek
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| adj.温顺的，逆来顺受的 | |
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gratitude
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| adj.感激，感谢 | |
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penance
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| n.（赎罪的）惩罪 | |
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corrupt
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| v.贿赂，收买；adj.腐败的，贪污的 | |
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doorway
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| n.门口，(喻)入门；门路，途径 | |
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hesitation
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| n.犹豫，踌躇 | |
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40
croaked
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| v.呱呱地叫( croak的过去式和过去分词 )；用粗的声音说 | |
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41
clenched
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| v.紧握，抓紧，咬紧( clench的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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42
gritted
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| v.以沙砾覆盖（某物），撒沙砾于( grit的过去式和过去分词 )；咬紧牙关 | |
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43
knuckle
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| n.指节；vi.开始努力工作；屈服，认输 | |
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44
slung
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| 抛( sling的过去式和过去分词 )； 吊挂； 遣送； 押往 | |
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45
slurring
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| 含糊地说出( slur的现在分词 )； 含糊地发…的声； 侮辱； 连唱 | |
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