New teeth by mariah pompa

Mariah Pompa

Brit.lit

5/17 /17

New Teeth

It was uncomfortable and costly as all things are when living with other people, even people he knew. Samad was stuck between ruling his side of the house and playing the polite guest. It was so confusing but this was their arrangement and his pride would not let him call it anything else. He had been dealt a bad hand. Alsana had warned him but it was hard to think with her constant snapping.

He had to uphold the family, keep a roof over their head, and food on the table. He was a man as it was his place to lead them but even in that he had failed. Pressed for money he argued with his cousin only to be told again “I can’t show favoritism Samad you know that” and he wouldn’t go to Alsana’s relatives the yammering chickens the lot of them. If they spent half as much time doing their duty to the family as they did gossiping then the Begum family would be prosperous, they might even have more children!

Shaking his head, Samad continued ripping out weeds as was his pass time when not at work. He had worked up quite a sweat but he had covered more ground this afternoon than he did the day before. Hard work released the mind of its worries so did praying but this is where he truly released his frustrations.

It was a compromise when they moved in he got the back yard and Clara got the front. The back was cluttered anyway with garbage and old boxes. He could spend hours out there, hacking away at the dirt until it was weeded and cutter free. It took more time because he only had one useable hand but that was fine he could take as long as he wanted.

The back door creaked and his solitude was snatched from him. He made it a point to tell the others not to disturb him why were they goig against his wishes? Could they not let a man have his peace?

“Abba! Amma wants you”

“Did she say what for?”

“No just that she needed you” Millat leaned on the back door making the hinges creak under the weight. It was just one of many things on the to-do list that the adults of the house had made. Sadly the repairs were at a standstill until they had actual time to do anything.

“And she couldn’t just get me herself?”     

“Nope that’s why she sent me”

“Where is she?”

“The kitchen”

“Alright I’m coming and don’t slam the-“Millat slammed the door. Samad swore under his breath, he would slap that boy the next chance he got.

 Dusting off his hands, Samad set aside his rake and pulled the rag out of his back pocket. He wasn’t as young as he used to be but all this gardening on top of the running he did as a waiter kept him in good shape.

“That boy should learn from his brother” Magid listened to him, he was respectful, and didn’t need help with his homework. Samad would have to give him something better than a firm “talking to” as Archie called it, though the man was rarely the disciplinarian.

Dusting off his knees Samad made his way inside. The weather was good for now but soon the ground would harden and the winds would grow colder. He wanted to get as much done in the garden as he could but that wouldn’t happen if Alsana kept pestering him.

Alsana was in the kitchen with Clara talking lightly as they prepared dinner. This sudden companionship was yet another adjustment he hadn’t witnessed. The kitchen was a space that called for patience that he didn’t have but somehow the two women had adjusted their methods and recipes to fit the others tastes. The clash of culture, language, and overall cuisine reminded him of the restaurant the cooks were a mix of English born Muslims and those from the home lands. Both separate places yet the two groups made it work through trial and error, though most those errors ended up being spilt on him when they couldn’t agree.

“Why send Millat? Why not just get me yourself?”

“I am busy making dinner but I want you to tell that cousin of yours that this meat is disgusting”

“This again?”

“Yes this again!”

“He is giving us those cuts Alsana, he doesn’t have to“

“Well then tell him to give us actual meat not gristle and stringy guts”

“Its thin beef not guts”

“I don’t care I can’t cook with it” They were getting to that point again but Alsana had a knife and he only had his fists. It wouldn’t end well if they started a brawl again luckily Clara stepped in having witnessed their “spats”.

“Alsi, can you get me the rest of the vegetables I would get them but I can’t take my eyes off this or it’ll boil over”

The silence was tense between them but Alsana turned away first, slamming her knife down on the counter to bring the cutting board over to Clara. If he knew what was good for him then Samad would take the out Clara had given him. He almost didn’t, ready to lay into his wife with more than a few reminders of how generous his cousin Mo was when Archie came in.

“Hello family, something smells good” Archie’s chipper tone made them all relax. Archie was common ground. He was happy, respectful, and above all welcoming even when it was him coming home.

“Evening Ladies” Archie kissed Clara on the cheek and smiled at Alsana, who grudgingly nodded in greeting.

“Why don’t you two go get cleaned up while we finish up dinner?” Clara was very aware of the tension still permeating the air. If she separated the Iqbal’s then they would only have to worry about the children squabbling.

“Sure thing come on Sam let’s leave the ladies to our feast”

Sharing one last glare with his wife Samad followed Archie upstairs relived to clean his sweaty face. It might have helped that even through his weary posture Archie exuded that annoying optimism he was known for. If there was ever a man who could be compared to the sea it was Archibald Jones. He could take what life had to offer like the waves of the sea, rolling with the tide only to return to the great body of the ocean with a carefree confidence.

He would never admit it but Samad felt a pained twist of jealousy every time his friend bounced back. What it was to live so carefree while he had to struggle for respect, confidence could only keep his façade up for so long. He hated it but he relied on Archie’s presence, his confidence, his passive nature all of it that’s why they’d moved in, he needed to be closer.

It had been his idea to move in, Archibald had offered when they’d been evicted. It was only meant to last for a few days but that turned into weeks and eventually months. The thought of leaving seemed like an empty promise now, Samad would bring it up when he thought they had over stayed their welcome but he never followed through. He leaned on Archie because of the same reason he respected him, Archibald could do what he could not: follow through.

They had fought in the war together but even that wasn’t true. They never saw any real action and the war was over before they could do anything. The one moment of true courage was carried out by Archie and that left Samad in a depressive slump. He felt like all his ancestors were looking upon him with shame. He had spoken of their names, the battles they had fought, and declared himself the next warrior to bring honor to their name yet he had nothing to show for it.

“I’m gonna pop in and check on the kids you go on ahead” Archie waved him off before taking a left towards the children’s rooms.

“Fine, fine just make sure Millat is doing his work, he can’t let his brother do it for him”

“I’ll remind him” Turning right Samad went to the bathroom to clean up.

Turning on the faucet he splashed his face a few times making sure to rub his forehead and part of his neck. The cool water soothing to his burning skin, he grabbed a towel off the rack and dried his face pausing when he looked at his reflection. He was still attractive for a man of his age, a full head of black hair with a light peppering of grey, fuller face then he used to but his nose was regal. Pulling back his lips he ran his tongue over his teeth.

 It was strange to feel them with his tongue but not with his teeth, not on the top anymore. Those little tools, his teeth that helped him eat, speak, and express were gone now replaced with this fine set of veneers. Tilting his head this way and that he could see that if he were to smile more like Archie he did look more attractive. He could probably catch more than a few eyes at the restaurant.

That made him frown, hiding his teeth away from the world with his dark lips. Samad didn’t feel like he wanted to draw attention to himself again. If he did the consequences were too much now, there was too much for him to lose.

He had been so tempted by Poppy, truly he had. Young, pale skinned, and so vibrant he wanted to give in so badly but Archibald interrupted them and he was reminded of his responsibilities. If he were to so much as think of that white woman he would not only be turning away from his wife but Archibald. He didn’t know which was worse breaking tradition or his ties to Archie both were on the edge of his mind.

Archie was his connection to the war, the only one who understood even a fraction of what he felt. This bond was beyond brothers he had hoped it would stay familial but things changed and he didn’t know when. He needed Archie in a way that he couldn’t explain and it made him panic.

He had turned to the Quran and even prayed in the Mosque but it didn’t relieve his mind until he realized that Archie would never act on it. Archibald was a passive man at times but he could carry on with little else but his coin and Clara’s affections. He was that easy going tide rolling on to land before pulling back happy to share with both realms.

Samad could live if he had to share because they all did in a way. He needed Archie’s calm, Clara needed Archie’s stability but Alsana’s commanding presence. What he truly needed from his wife besides children was that connection to the old world, this place, this British home land held nothing but chaos and confusion. He worried for his sons and himself after the temptation of Poppy but Alsana held firm in taking the boys to see her relatives, speaking of the state of the old land, even teaching their sons the language.

They would live on knowing where they came from Samad would see to it he would-“Samad Miah where are your shoes?”

Alsana’s voice wasn’t muffled by the door but he had prayed to Allah it would.

“What shoes?”

“You said that your shoes were too thin”

  “No those were Archibald’s”

“I though you said yours?!” She was shouting now, that annoyance from before coming back with a vengeance.

“No I just got mine back”

“You couldn’t have because those were Clara’s”

“I am not wearing her shoes now!”

“I would hope not they would ruin Clara’s favorite pair”

“Woman leave me alone!”

“Fine but I need those shoes!” Shaking his head Samad turned on the sink as high as it would go drowning out Alsana.

“I can’t hear you”

“I need those shoes!”

“I can’t hear, you leave me alone” Satisfaction rose up in his chest as he heard her muttered frustrations. She would get him back for it later but for now he would enjoy his moments respite alone without nagging wives, noisy children, and his jealousy.

 

The routine cleaning of Neena Begum

The shoe shop was home to thousands of shoes of all shapes and sizes giving Neena plenty of inspiration. It was easy enough to get a job there, not many people cared to deal with ratty shoes but she didn’t care. It was pretty good pay, she got to practice her craft, and best of all work on her designs because Maxine loved her creative side but bringing work home could get a bit annoying. She remembered the well-rehearsed conversation that happened when she filled their small kitchen table with her projects.

“I love you and of course your designs are amazing but you need to take a break babe”

“Five more minutes” Neena scribbled down the measurements of a pair of heels. They were broken in the arch and she wanted to keep the arch width on record so she wouldn’t make the same mistakes with her own stuff.

“Nope, I can’t even see my side of the table anymore that means they all go back into the box”

“Three more minutes”

“Nope” Maxine kissed the top of her head before going to the front door to get the “project” box. It was full of shoes that needed extra care from work and her tools. It helped to have all her things from work in one place not only for organization but Maxine didn’t care for the clutter. There was only so many times a woman can sit on her couch only to find needles sticking out of the arm of the couch and a shoe sticking out of the cushions.

“One more minute”

“Sorry babe but I want to be able to eat dinner off that table”

“I know the place smells great and I’m starving but I just need to…done”

Throwing her hands up in triumph Neena made a show of shoving all the shoes off the table and into the box tossing her pen and note pad with them.

“Now what were you saying about dinner?”

They had negotiated it down to one hour maximum for work she brought home. It was annoying sometimes but Maxine was right, she needed to relax, find a way to separate home from work. It also gave her stuff to do when the shop was having a slow day.

The bell above the door rang and Neena dropped her pencil. She would come back to that sketch later right now she had to throw on a “friendly” smile and man the counter.

“Welcome to-“

“Niece of shame”

“Hello to you too” Alsana didn’t seem to appreciate her tone but her Aunts glare wouldn’t stop the lazy smile that spread across her lips.

“I’m here for Samad’s shoes”

“What no hello how are? I mean it’s been a week since we last saw each other”

“I am on a tight schedule today Niece of shame please hurry it along” Alsana did have a few bags on her. She probably had a few errands before heading home. Her Aunt needed to get a hobby or something, it couldn’t be healthy just staying home all the time. Neena didn’t know how she didn’t even the weekends were rough without a project or two.

 “Alright let me get it”

Neena took her sweet time getting the one bag her Aunt had brought with the single pair of shoes that came with it. It was a simple repair job, the heels were worn down and the laces needed to be replaced but it was easy enough. They had been ready for a while now but Alsana never came to get them when she called, oh no her Aunt came and went as she pleased.

“Here”

Alsana took the bag and looked inside as if Neena would get it wrong. She might be more relaxed then her Aunt but she was serious when it came to her work.

“These are not Samad’s”

“I know”

“Then why give me some stranger’s shoes!”

“They were in your bag so that means you brought a strangers shoes” Alsana huffed looking into the bag again she frowned. “These are bigger than Samad’s”

“Then they must be Archie’s unless you have a third man living there”

Alsana tried to swat her upside the head but the counter was too far for her to reach over. Neena let all her smugness through not caring if Alsana threw a fit. Her Aunt was too easy to wind up these days. She really was an old woman in a twenty-somethings body.

“Don’t speak of my family like that”

“Come now Alsi take a joke every now and then”

“Archie has been nothing but kind to us just as Clara has and I will not have them be the butt of your jokes”

“At least you know the structure of one I was beginning to worry you’d forgotten that” Alsana scowled twisting up that pretty face.

 It was always funny that people thought pretty girls were pretty all the time. If they looked away from their magazines and posters for a minute an actually talked to then they would see just how ridiculous that notion was. Her Aunt certainly proved it true with all her scowling, Alsana never made that face so much when they were younger now it was a constant sight.

“Careful Auntie if you keep scowling your face might get stuck like that”

Alsana sputtered throwing the end of her scarf over her shoulder before storming out. It was a pretty scarf too, probably one of Clara’s judging by the vibrant reds and oranges of it.

“Bye Alsi see on Wednesday”

“No you will not”

Alsana would be in a mood after their little encounters but they always met up for their standing Wednesday tea. It was always at this little place on Fourth Street that had the tea Alsana liked but the sweets Clara craved. Neena herself liked the food and drink just as much as the company even if her Aunt was up tight Clara was a nice woman and could get her to relax. They balanced each other out just as much as Archie and Samad did.

Honestly their whole set up reminded her of the communes she had seen around the far side. They were mostly abandoned now but in the beginning they had a similar dynamic to the Jones/ Iqbal household. There were men and women of various ages all intimate in some way or another. They got wild at times but were calm at others, somehow creating a routine that worked for all of them in such a small space.

Sure Samad still ignored her existence as much as he could but Archie was more than welcoming and he tended to make up for it. Neena actually liked her Aunts “friends” because they were better than her own family. The Begum family may be more lenient here in Britain but they never dropped their expectations, if anything they held them higher than before. They didn’t want their daughters to forget the old ways and that meant plenty of fights between her and her parents.

  To their horror Neena moved out after leaving school. She wouldn’t put up with their bullshit any longer than she had to so once she reached working age she got a few crap jobs here and there. She might not have been focused in school but she wasn’t stupid, she was bored and that led to doodling on her homework more than once. Eventually she developed a real knack for drawing till she got into the shoe business.

Surprisingly things had gone better than she’d expected with her independence. She had a steady job, the budding inspirations of a designer, and best of all she could afford a place with her girlfriend Maxine. They could wander the shops whenever they wanted sharing a laugh at their own jokes. They didn’t need much to be happy and they were fine with that.

Shaking her head Neena left the front counter to get back to her desk. She had plenty of important things to do like figure out how she wanted this heel to look. It wasn’t every day she got to mess around with the actual shape of the heel, most shoes that got dropped off were work boots. Shoes like that needed to be rebuilt and reinforced for the hard manual labor not embroidered or resize.

“Back to work I suppose”

Grabbing her pencil Neena carried on with her sketch forcing all thoughts of her Aunts family from her mind.