Veil of Walls by Patricia Panahi

Author:Patricia Panahi [Panahi, Patricia]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: uploadable
Publisher: Black Rose Writing
Published: 2017-04-26T00:00:00+00:00

* * *

“Ana. Ana.” The world seemed to be shaking.

I opened my eyes to Roxanna displaying her navy blue bikini with white stripes.

I sat up, rubbing sleep from my eyes. A bikini? The Yellow Polka Dot Bikini began playing in my head.

Roxanna wiggled into her suit. “Let’s go down to the beach. I’ve packed breakfast.”

Excited by the prospect, I popped out of bed and donned my black, one-piece conservative bathing suit Auntie Azar had bought me, then pulled a cotton dress over it. “Let me check with my aunt before we go.”

“Why? She’ll probably recruit you to help with one thing or another.”

“But—”

Homa poked her head through the door. “Dressed for the beach early, I see.” She wore a sleeveless blouse and Capri pants with a beehive hairdo.

Roxanna twirled like a model.

“Have fun and don’t forget your suntan lotion,” Homa said before closing the door.

Roxanna grabbed my arm. “Well, don’t just stand there and gawk. Let’s go!”

“But… but Auntie Azar…”

She shoved me out the door. “Maman will tell her later. And the ocean is waiting. Move.”

Auntie Azar was chatting with Madar on the deck. Roxanna put a finger to her lips and squatted. I nodded and held my breath while we skirted the deck, waddling like ducks, well below my aunt’s line of vision. Roxanna slipped behind a clump of bushes. I followed, my heart near exploding.

Under cover of the foliage, we made our way down through the garden, the sense of anticipation rising inside me. Roxanna pulled open the gate. “After you,” she said with an exaggerated gesture.

I felt my eyes widen. Skin! People in bathing suits. On a public beach. Some of the boys wore skimpy European trunks that looked like colored underwear. Their skin glistened with suntan lotion. I could barely believe my eyes.

I shook off my slippers and squished my toes into the warm sand. The last time I’d felt sand between my toes was our trip to Cape Cod when I was nine. Mom and I had buried Dad, up to his neck, in sand, then fell back laughing, shoving our feet into the mound and freeing him. Mom loved the beach. If they were here, Dad would settle on a towel with a mystery novel and Mom would throw off her wide brimmed yellow hat and clasp my hand and we’d jump in the waves together…

People lounged on the beach, played volleyball, or bobbed on the surf. Gentle waves splashed onto the shore. The sun felt warm and familiar on my skin – skin that had been hidden under skirts and long pants for years. In Tehran, arms could be exposed, but not thighs. And definitely no bathing suits unless they were in a private pool tucked away behind towering walls. Yet here, some of the girls actually wore bikinis. A few local boys ogled them from a distance, but the girls didn’t seem to notice.

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