Midnight Vigil
It was about two thirty at night. Something made me stir from my sleep. I am a light sleeper. With half-closed eyes, I keenly listened. What made me wake up? For a while, I heard nothing. It must be my wild imagination. It always gets the better of me. Just as I was getting ready to drop back to sleep again, when I heard the sound again. It was the sound of soft stealthy footsteps slithering downstairs. I lay still with my eyes wide open, deciding what to do.
My mind flew back to the time that I was a young mother of two, in Tehran. I was perhaps twenty-five years old then. We lived in a three-family house on top of a hill with no other house in sight. My ex-husband alternated each fortnight between Tehran and the Persian Gulf. Redifon, the telecommunications company he was associated with, was building airports in the southern part of Iran. He was part of that team. The fortnight in question, he happened to be away. My children were toddlers. I only had Naneh with me. Naneh took care of the children. During the day, we had someone who cleaned and cooked and left in the afternoon. When my husband was away, Naneh and I were the only two adults there. Naneh was somewhat old and slow in her ways. She was also a heavy sleeper. It was summer, and summer nights we slept outside on the wide balconies. Part of the balconies were allotted as sleeping areas. We had our summer beds and the children’s cots out there. Naneh preferred to sleep on a mattress on the tiled balcony floor. She usually slept in a separate area. But since it was only us, we slept closer to each other. We felt more secure that way.
That night the air was refreshingly cool. The stars in the dark night sky above twinkled, sparkled, and danced an elaborate dance. My little cherubs were peacefully asleep. The crickets in the trees chirped contentedly, urging us to relax and slip into a restful sleep as well. Soon, Naneh was snoring in accompaniment. I lay on my back, with my arms tucked behind my head gazing up into the heavens. I never tired of the magic of sleeping under that magical velvet sky, filled with those twinkling stars during those summer nights. They were part of me; they were part of my being, they were part of my early childhood memories and my comfort whenever I thought of them.
I was so entranced in the moment, that it took me a while to realize that someone was tiptoeing in the house. I was young and quite afraid. But I was also a mother. My fear was nothing compared to my instinct to protect my little ones. I lay still for a while, thinking. Then, I quietly rose from my bed. Barefooted, I padded into the room and switched on the lights. I walked about humming softly, pretending I was searching for something. I then returned to my bed, leaving the lights on. I turned my head away from the room. I waited. I hoped the intruder would leave. I left enough time to give him the chance to make his escape. I then rose once more. I checked every door. I proceeded to lock up the door that had been left ajar by the thwarted burglar. I felt so very brave and proud of myself.
I remembered all that at two thirty the other night. This time I put on the lights and went to the bathroom and flushed the toilet. Then I stomped back to bed. I switched on the radio and raised the volume. I returned once more. I flushed the toilet one more time. I wandered about the bedroom a bit. I sat down a bit then I switched on the staircase light. Slowly I trudged downstairs, partly because …