April 1971
Tadjrish,Iran
Through the window, the light of the courtyard had a bright glow, alit with midday sun reflecting off the brick and tile all around. A canopy of green leaves and delicate white flowers burst up from slender trunks like bouquets of wildflowers erupting from big squares of fresh spring dirt in neat rows. I spied her there, my sissy, under one of the trees, her auburn ponytail following the curve of her back. She was hunched small and balanced on plastic shoes, the sharp angles of her shoulder blades moving rhythmically through her red t-shirt. I marked the spot with my mind where I was going to plant my feet down next to her, planned my route through the house, and was there already before my feet could carry me.
“Watcha doin?” I asked, studying her profile and the wisps of hair that fell around her ear. I looked down to watch her fingers clawing at the ground. We’d stepped off the paving and were crouched at the base of one of the trees, my smaller body shaped like a mirror image of hers, squatting small like we’d seen our grandmother do so many times before. I rested my chin on the soft dimples of my knees.
“Watcha doin?” I asked again.
“I’m digging for almonds.”
“Oh.”
I looked again at her fingers in the dirt. “How come?”
“Huh?”
“Why ya digging all-mans?
She looked at me and rolled her eyes. “You can eat ‘em.”
My cheeks flushed with shame of all the things in the world that I did not yet understand.
“Can I help?”
“Uh huh.” She nodded her chin towards her toes. “I found three already.” I studied the jumble of creamy-colored almonds, speckled with dirt, lying on the ground between us.
Sissy’s fingers discovered another one poking out from under a couple of twigs and leaves.
“Yuh eat ‘em?” I asked.
“Yeah.” She lifted the dirty pod to her mouth, fingernails blackened with dirt. I watched her chew it down.
“We can find more. You dig over there and I’ll run and get a bowl we can put ‘em in.” She rose and ran off and I listened as her footsteps followed her into the house. I popped one of the tender white nuts in to my mouth. It was sweet and smooth on my tongue.
By the time my sister had returned with one of Grandmama’s plastic bowls, I’d found two more almonds along the base of the tree, and I plunked them in the bowl with the others she placed there. Pretty soon we had a dozen and couldn’t find any more, and I followed my sister through the kitchen door as she delivered the bowl of almonds to our grandmother.
“Baricallah!” Grandmama remarked with praise, and planted a kiss on sissy’s forehead. In response, my sister beamed - she offered to Grandmama a Persian smile that seemed to stretch all the way across her face and made her pale skin glow, her nose crinkling and eyebrows raised – the kind of smile she only gave in Iran, and saved especially for Grandmama.
That night after dinner a small dish of almonds were brought out to the table. I marveled as I watched my family sprinkle salt on the tiny pods and pop them in their mouths – the world, so full of mystery, offered up almonds from the ground, and Sissy had known how to find them, confirming for me once again that she was the smartest girl in the world.
Tadjrish,Iran
Through the window, the light of the courtyard had a bright glow, alit with midday sun reflecting off the brick and tile all around. A canopy of green leaves and delicate white flowers burst up from slender trunks like bouquets of wildflowers erupting from big squares of fresh spring dirt in neat rows. I spied her there, my sissy, under one of the trees, her auburn ponytail following the curve of her back. She was hunched small and balanced on plastic shoes, the sharp angles of her shoulder blades moving rhythmically through her red t-shirt. I marked the spot with my mind where I was going to plant my feet down next to her, planned my route through the house, and was there already before my feet could carry me.
“Watcha doin?” I asked, studying her profile and the wisps of hair that fell around her ear. I looked down to watch her fingers clawing at the ground. We’d stepped off the paving and were crouched at the base of one of the trees, my smaller body shaped like a mirror image of hers, squatting small like we’d seen our grandmother do so many times before. I rested my chin on the soft dimples of my knees.
“Watcha doin?” I asked again.
“I’m digging for almonds.”
“Oh.”
I looked again at her fingers in the dirt. “How come?”
“Huh?”
“Why ya digging all-mans?
She looked at me and rolled her eyes. “You can eat ‘em.”
My cheeks flushed with shame of all the things in the world that I did not yet understand.
“Can I help?”
“Uh huh.” She nodded her chin towards her toes. “I found three already.” I studied the jumble of creamy-colored almonds, speckled with dirt, lying on the ground between us.
Sissy’s fingers discovered another one poking out from under a couple of twigs and leaves.
“Yuh eat ‘em?” I asked.
“Yeah.” She lifted the dirty pod to her mouth, fingernails blackened with dirt. I watched her chew it down.
“We can find more. You dig over there and I’ll run and get a bowl we can put ‘em in.” She rose and ran off and I listened as her footsteps followed her into the house. I popped one of the tender white nuts in to my mouth. It was sweet and smooth on my tongue.
By the time my sister had returned with one of Grandmama’s plastic bowls, I’d found two more almonds along the base of the tree, and I plunked them in the bowl with the others she placed there. Pretty soon we had a dozen and couldn’t find any more, and I followed my sister through the kitchen door as she delivered the bowl of almonds to our grandmother.
“Baricallah!” Grandmama remarked with praise, and planted a kiss on sissy’s forehead. In response, my sister beamed - she offered to Grandmama a Persian smile that seemed to stretch all the way across her face and made her pale skin glow, her nose crinkling and eyebrows raised – the kind of smile she only gave in Iran, and saved especially for Grandmama.
That night after dinner a small dish of almonds were brought out to the table. I marveled as I watched my family sprinkle salt on the tiny pods and pop them in their mouths – the world, so full of mystery, offered up almonds from the ground, and Sissy had known how to find them, confirming for me once again that she was the smartest girl in the world.
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