“There you go. All that gold on her neck, all that makeup, and she’s here every day asking for a couple of onions or potatoes, or some oil.”

Shadi goes to the backyard. Ebi is at the entrance of the parking lot. The kids have all gathered in the backyard and offer him coins. Ebi collects the coins and sings one of Googoosh’s songs. He imitates the sound of a fire engine, the roar of a lion, and the sound of a police siren. Ebi has long hair. He is wearing an old oversized coat and cuts all the songs short. “As much as you pay,” he says.

The kids clap for him and laugh. A banknote is thrown from the upper floor, and a woman says, “A Bandari dance.”

Amir says, “The others pay money to enjoy it, but you get your enjoyment without paying. Haven’t you had enough already?”

I move away from the window. Where should I go? Where shouldn’t I go? There is no good reason to wander. If I am not standing at the window, there are only two other places I could go—either the living room or the kitchen. The backyard is at the other end of the building and the high wall there makes me feel like it’s the end of the world.

I say, “I’ve had enough, OK?”

I have said it too late.

Amir says, “Enough of what?”

“Of everything, of this life.”

Now that I have named my feeling, I realize how sad I am. Sadness has blown up like a balloon inside me. My eyes are full of tears. “Of this house, of these Fridays.”

“I keep telling you that we have to leave this place.”

I want to say, “ . . . of you.”

I don’t say it. That would ruin everything. Because I don’t say it, the word knocks around inside my head, “You, you, you.”

“Now you agree with me.”

I don’t know what it is that I am agreeing with. But I feel guilty for being so fed up with him. Damn this feeling that is always with me, closer to me than a sister. Mahin and Shahla are not always with me, but this feeling never leaves me. I get close to Amir and put my head on his shoulder. It is too hard. I bring my head down to his chest. Amir caresses my hair. I think I always mislead people. Amir cannot even imagine that I am so fed up with him.

Chapter 21

21

When Amir has had enough, he walks around the room with heavy steps like a giant. Opening and closing doors noisily. He sings in the shower, and when you least expect it, he recites poetry by Hafez.

In the mornings, he puts on his best shirt to go to work. Fixing his hair, he doesn’t mind using my leftover hair color to cover his gray.