I was feeding Shadi. I heard the door slam but didn’t pay any attention until I saw Shahaab covered in mud and slime, holding Arash’s hand. I screamed, ‘Oh my God! What happened to you? Didn’t I tell you not to get your clothes dirty?’
Arash, angry and on the verge of tears, told me the whole story. I could feel the blood rushing to my head with every word. I was shaking all over. I picked Shadi up, grabbed Shahaab’s hand, and without any attention to what I was wearing, walked towards Hossein and Fataneh’s house. I let go of Shahaab’s hand once we got there and pressed the door-bell until they opened the door. As soon as it opened, I pulled Shahaab’s hand again, crossed the garden, walked into the hall and came face to face with Fataneh, who was rushing towards me, worried. Hossein, Shahin, Fereshteh and Khosrow were in front of the TV. There was a tea-tray on the coffee table. Fereshteh ran forwards and took Shadi from my arms. I took no heed of her. It was as if I couldn’t see anyone except for Khosrow. My heart was beating fast and with a voice that sounded unfamiliar to my own ears, I yelled, ‘What do you want with this child? Is he the only one you can bully? Didn’t you think he would be sick if he drank that water? Why do you pick on him so much?’
Khosrow answered innocently, ‘It’s not my fault. He’s willing to do anything for ice cream and sweets. The kids tease him because he’s dumb. I watch out for him so he doesn’t get beaten up.’
‘What do you mean “dumb”? Aren’t you ashamed of yourself, calling him names? He isn’t dumb at all.’
Hossein calmly said, ‘Don’t upset yourself. Why are you so angry? Some kids are less intelligent than others. Some like Arash are talented and have a high IQ, and others like this one are a bit slow.’
‘He’s not slow at all. You’re all labelling him.’
Fataneh said derisively, ‘Why don’t you want to accept the truth? A child who hasn’t talked by this age must be retarded.’
‘His lack of speech has nothing to do with being retarded. His doctor says that some kids start talking later. It has nothing to do with his intelligence.’
‘Rubbish! We’ve never seen a smart, intelligent four-year-old who doesn’t talk. My Khosrow began talking when he was still crawling.’
I answered with exasperation, ‘No, he started talking when he was still in your belly, but as you can see, he isn’t smart at all! So talking early or late has nothing to do with being smart.’
Fataneh pursed her lips and said, ‘What did you say? Hossein, did you hear what she said about my son?’
Hossein got up and walked towards me, and trying to remain calm said, ‘Try to control yourself. Instead of getting angry you should seriously think of doing something about this child.’
My voice kept getting louder and louder, ‘There’s nothing wrong with him. You should seriously think of doing something about your own child.’
Shahin said, ‘Maryam, that’s not nice. My brother didn’t say anything hurtful. He’s just worried about your son and thinks you should take him to a doctor. All the children in our family are clever. This sort of case is very uncommon.’
‘All the children in my family are clever too. Don’t worry about this one either. There’s nothing wrong with him.’
I took Shadi from Fereshteh’s arms and turned to Shahaab who was looking at me startled.
‘The next time someone calls you “dumb”, smack him in the mouth. Do you understand?’
I couldn’t stand being there any more, so grabbing Shahaab’s hand I turned and went home without saying goodbye.
I knew that my reaction would seem very strange to my husband’s family, who before this had always seen me as a quiet, shy person. The whole situation would probably explode with all kinds of repercussions.
As soon as I got home my anger subsided into feelings of despondency and fatigue. I was out of words, as though I’d said all there was to say. I gave Shahaab a bath and put fresh clothes on him. He never took his eyes off me. I couldn’t tell anything from his eyes. I knew that he was surprised by my unusual reaction, but I wasn’t sure what he thought of it. My calm exterior belied my inner agitation.
My anger was rekindled when Nasser got home. I complained to him about the insults they had aimed at our child. And as always, he looked at me in silence and chewed on his moustache.
‘What do you want me to do? Maybe they’re right.’
I looked at him for a few seconds, and then jumped up and yelled, ‘Do you think this child is retarded too?’
‘If he isn’t retarded, why won’t he talk? Didn’t the doctor say there was nothing wrong with his hearing or the rest of his body? Maybe he has a mental problem.’
‘Stop this nonsense! There’s nothing wrong with my child. I know it. He talks to me with his eyes.’
‘You’re a mother. You don’t want to accept the truth.’
Arash took his father’s side, ‘He’s right, Mum! If he wasn’t dumb he wouldn’t do whatever they asked him.’
‘He’s a child. He doesn’t understand right from wrong. You’re his older brother. You have to look out for him.’
‘It’s none of my business. I’m ashamed of walking around with him. Everyone says, “Your brother’s an idiot.” I don’t want a brother like him.’
‘Shut up! Instead of keeping other people from saying such things, you’re repeating them yourself?’
‘Maryam, he’s right. Try to accept the truth.’
‘Leave me alone. My child is not an idiot. To hell with you!’
And I began to cry out loud.