11. Farzana has forgotten how to drive. Or so she claims, as I chauffeur her to the fortune teller’s place in my parents’ secondhand sedan.
I laugh. Farzana raises a questioning eyebrow.
“Well,” I say. “It’s just—we’ve never really talked about your relationship with Doctor before. I’ve often wondered about it, but all I could do was to try and imagine what your life must be like. You know, the way we made up stories about all those couples we spied on in the park across the main road, that one time.”
“Yes! God, I haven’t thought about that in years! Oh, all those poor couples, hiding from their families, trying to find privacy in the most public of places.” She smiles slowly, as though remembering the details. “Such lurid stories we made up. We were a bit judgmental, weren’t we?”
“We were assholes.”
“Why were we in that park in the first place? We hardly ever hung out there.”
I squeeze the leather around the steering wheel. Does she really not remember?
“We wanted to keep away from your mother,” I say. “Well—yours and mine, both. But mostly yours. I had just been un-banned from your place, but I was still too nervous to come over.” I roll to a stop at the light and look at Farzana. “Don’t you remember?”
She looks out of the window, scratches her forehead.
“Farzi?”
“Hmm? Yeah, I remember. God, what silly girls we were. Now, take a left here.”
I turn at the signal. We enter Hayatpura.
“Well, Doctor seems like he takes good care of you. Is he the devoted husband you’ve always wanted?”
Farzana leans over into the back of the car and retrieves her bag. She rummages in it busily, then pulls out a small notepad and opens it to a page with a hand-drawn map.
“Turn right here, please,” she says, her voice businesslike. “I think the fortune teller lives around here.”
I pull up by the address she reads out. “Are you sure this is it?”
“This is the place.” She checks her face in the mirror before stepping out of the car. “And yes, Doctor is quite the ideal man, Bela. I’m truly lucky to have him.” She smiles as she turns away, the painted black dot rising like a dark moon on the crest of her lips.