Burned alive by Souad Page A

surprise: “What did you do to yourself?”
    “It’s henna, it was on my hands and I rubbed my nose, I wasn’t paying attention.”
    I really did put on henna and purposely smudged my nose. But this lie can’t go on for long. I am pregnant and it’s been a month since the last time I saw Faiez.
    I must speak to him. One evening, when the sun is not yet down, I boil water in the garden to do the wash so that I can go up onto the terrace with my laundry at about the time when I know he’s going to come home. This time, I give him a signal with my head and I keep gesturing to make him understand: I want to see you, I’m going down there, you must follow me . . .
    He has seen me and I run off to wait for him, pretending to go watch over a sick sheep in the stable. The sheep is really sick, we’re waiting for her to give birth, and it’s not the first time I’ve stayed near her. I’ve even slept on the straw a whole night for fear of not hearing her.
    He arrives at our rendezvous spot a little after me, and he immediately tries to make love, convinced that’s why I called him. I draw back.
    “No, that’s not why I wanted to see you.”
    “Well, why then?”
    “I want to talk to you.”
    “We’ll talk after. Come on!”
    “You don’t love me. Can’t we meet just to talk?”
    “Yes, but I love you, I love you so much that every time I see you I want you.”
    “Faiez, the first time I wanted nothing, then you kissed me, and I accepted three times, now I haven’t had my period.”
    “Maybe it’s just late?”
    “No, I’ve never been late and I feel strange.”
    He doesn’t want to make love anymore. His face has gone blank.
    “What are we going to do?”
    “We have to get married, now! We can’t wait, you have to go see my father, even if there isn’t any wedding, I don’t care!”
    “They’ll talk in the village, it’s not done! What would we do about putting out the sheet on the balcony?”
    “Don’t worry about that, I’ll take care of it.”
    “But we can’t have a small ceremony, we said a big wedding, we’ll have a big wedding. I’ll go talk to your father. Wait for me here tomorrow at the same time.”
    “But it’s not always possible for me. You’re a man, you do what you want. Wait for me to give you a sign. If I can, you’ll see me braiding my hair. If I don’t take off my scarf, don’t come.”
    The next day, I take a chance saying I’m going to gather some grass for the sick sheep. I give the signal and I run to the meeting place, trembling. My father has said nothing, I’ve heard nothing. I’m so afraid that I can’t get my breath. Faiez arrives a good half hour after me. I attack him.
    “Why haven’t you gone to see my father?”
    “I don’t dare look your father in the face. I’m afraid.”
    “But you have to hurry, it’s been almost two months now. My stomach is going to start getting big. What am I going to do?” And I start to cry.
    “Stop it, don’t be crying when you go home. I’m going to see your father tomorrow.”

    I believed him, I wanted so much to believe him. Because I loved him and I had good reason to hope, because he had already asked my father for me once. I understood that he was afraid to face him. It wasn’t easy to explain why he wanted the marriage to take place so soon. What reason could he find in the face of my father’s mistrust and meanness, without revealing the secret and destroying my honor and his own before the family?
    I prayed to God that night, as usual. My parents were very religious, my mother went often to the mosque. The girls were supposed to say their prayers twice a day in the house. The next day when I woke up I thanked Allah that I was alive.
    The car had already left when I went out to the terrace. Then I did my work as usual, I cared for the sheep, cleaned the stable, I brought out the flock, picked the tomatoes. I waited for evening. I was so afraid that I picked up a big stone and struck my stomach with it