Free The Pearl that Broke Its Shell by Nadia Hashimi Page B

not know what lay ahead for her but she knew she could not return to this home. She had closed this door for sure.
    “You wretched creature! Allah in all His wisdom has marked your face as a warning to all! There is a monster within! Ungrateful, just like your despicable mother! Do you ever wonder why your entire family is gone, buried under the ground? It is you! You are cursed!”
    Shekiba felt something rise within her. She turned slowly and lifted her burqa again.
    “Yes, I am!” Shekiba smirked and pointed a finger at her grandmother. “And with Allah as my witness, I curse you, Grandmother! May demons haunt your dreams, may your bones shatter as you walk and may your last breaths be painful and bloody!”
    Bobo Shahgul gasped. Shekiba could see the fear in her eyes. She stared at her granddaughter’s portentous face and took a nervous step back.
    Kaka Zalmai slapped her face with a mighty backhand. Even the deadened nerves on the left side of her face stung with his blow.
    Clever, she thought as she tried to catch her balance. Won’t leave a mark there.
    He tightened his fingers around her arm and dragged her away from the house.
    “We are leaving. Madar- jan, I’ll be back when I have gotten rid of this monster. Samina, help my mother back into the house!”
    Shekiba had no trouble keeping up with her uncle’s pace. She kept two steps behind and played the scene over and over again in her mind. Had she really done that? Had she really said those things?
    Her burqa hid a lopsided smile.
    They walked the four kilometers to Azizullah’s home in silence. Kaka Zalmai occasionally looked back and muttered something that Shekiba could not make out. They passed through the village Shekiba had not seen since early childhood. The shops looked more or less the same and there were a handful of people walking about, blue burqas following men dressed in loose flowing pants and long shirts.
    As they moved further from her family’s land, Shekiba wondered if she had done the right thing. What if she found herself alone again? What would she do? But she knew. She would do what she had intended to do months ago.
    I will find a way back to our land and bury myself with my family, Shekiba resolved.
    Azizullah’s home was large in comparison to Bobo Shahgul’s. And when she discovered that only Azizullah, his wife and four children lived in it, she was astonished. Azizullah had been given the home by his father, who had been a relatively wealthy man by village standards. Today, Azizullah made his living as a man of commerce. He bought and sold anything that was of any value to anyone. He made trades and loaned money as needed. He knew everyone in the village, but more important, everyone knew him. His family was well connected, with two brothers in the military service.
    It was Azizullah himself who answered the outer gate.
    The men shook hands and exchanged pleasantries. Shekiba stood just behind her uncle, feeling invisible.
    Azizullah was a burly man who looked to be in his thirties. He wore a brown lambskin hat of rippled fur that sat snugly on his head. His eyes were dark and he had a thick but neatly trimmed beard. His clothes and hands looked clean.
    He does not look like a working man, thought Shekiba.
    “Please come in, Zalmai- jan . Join me for a cup of tea.”
    Kaka Zalmai accepted the invitation and followed Azizullah into his courtyard. Shekiba stood behind, not sure what she should do, until she saw her uncle shoot her a look. She took a step into her new home. The men went into the living room but Shekiba thought it best if she remained outside. She stood with her back to the wall, her shoulders now starting to ache where Bobo Shahgul’s walking stick had come down on her earlier. Again, a smile beneath her burqa . Nearly twenty minutes passed before she was summoned into the living room by her uncle.
    “This is Shekiba, Azizullah- jan . You will see that, as we told you, she is a very hard worker and is sure