A Day for Women
Grand Bazaar - February 24
The bazaar was lively today, even though it was much colder than usual and a light layer of snow covered the sidewalks. Alex hadn’t seen it so bustling since he arrived in Persia. Unfortunately, it wasn’t a sign of things returning to normal. He doubted the crowds would return to the sizes he remembered until the war ended, assuming they won. No, it was solely because today was a holiday.
It was called Sepandārmazgān. It was a centuries-old Zoroastrian holiday that experienced a revival in the 11th century, after the Pagan Resurgence. It was actually a combination of two holidays. One was an agricultural festival to pray for a good harvest later in the year. The other was a celebration of women—originally mothers and wives but now expanded to just all women in general—by giving them presents.
That was the reason Alex was in the bazaar. Magnus was also here, having forgotten the holiday existed until Alexandra sternly reminded him last week. They were all still getting used to living in Persia, even after four years.
“You really frakked up,” Alex said.
“How was I supposed to know today was a holiday?” Magnus replied. “And that Alexandra was expecting a present?”
Alex rolled his eyes. “It’s like if you moved to the Reich—before, I mean—and you didn’t know Christmas was a thing.”
“But everyone celebrates Christmas now. Or at least they used to.”
“Can you at least try to understand my analogy?”
“Hey, you’re one to talk. You’re here with me.”
“We at least were busy working on the Impala reactor.”
We’re very close to the first test run now, using the safer pure fusion design. “You, on the other hand, have been on break last week.”
Magnus shook his head. “Who wouldn’t, after being forced to handle every single presentation to Gunduz?”
“You better find something nice for her,” Alex said.
“Well, got any suggestions?”
Alex stopped in front of a news stand set up in front of a house and picked up a copy of
Farhang, Persia’s oldest and most reputable newspaper. He flipped away from the front page and the dire news he had gotten used to seeing—today’s headline was “CRUSADERS ADVANCE ON VILNIUS,” and underneath that was “JERUSALEMITE TROOP SURGE SPOTTED IN MESOPOTAMIA”—and checked the lifestyle section. “Let’s see…‘Top 5 gifts for your significant other this Sepandārmazgān’…”
“How do you pronounce that so easily?”
“…Actually, I’m not sure if I got it right. Anyways, it seems most men pick flowers.”
Magnus scoffed. “
Flowers? Really? Might as well be Valentine’s Day.”
“It says other couples eat at fancy restaurants,” Alex read further, “But then again, it doesn’t feel right when we’re at war.”
“It doesn’t feel right because
we have access to the palace dining halls!”
Oh, right. “Yeah, that too.”
The news stand owner knocked on his counter. “Hey, you gonna buy that or what? It’s twelve dinars.”
“Sorry.” Alex put the newspaper back. “Really? Twelve dinars?”
“Man’s gotta make a living,” the old salesman said, “Especially in this economy.”
“I know, I know.”
Gunduz’s invasion must’ve cost a whole lot. “But we’re not in the mood for news today.”
“I can tell. Heard you two
pesar-ân talking about Sepandārmazgān. Lady troubles, I take it?”
“I’m fine, but him?” Alex pointed at Magnus. “Not so much.”
“Seems you have a lot to learn about living in Persia, my
Rōmāyī friend.”
“I do not!” Magnus indignantly said.
The salesman laughed. “Your Persian also needs some work.”
Good thing Thea and I took some classes when we got here. “So do you have any suggestions for gifts? I don’t really need any help myself, but Magnus would really appreciate it, even if he doesn’t sound like it.”
“Let me see…” the salesman thought. “You know, my mother—bless her—always called today
mard-giran. Possessing of men, in German.”
“Possessing…of men?” Magnus said.
The salesman nodded. “
Âri, âri. Sepandārmazgān is not to be taken lightly. It is a celebration that is special to the women in our lives, because it celebrates them. So you’d best give something appropriate to your lady friend.”
“Yeah, no pressure there, Magnus.” Alex lightly elbowed him.
“Shut it!” Magnus replied, like a schoolboy.
Almost like how Manfred was in middle school…
“Do you know what she would like?” the salesman asked.
“Well…” Magnus hesitated. “Eh…”
“Come on, Magnus,” Alex said, “You’ve known Alexandra since high school, right? Tell me you know what she’d like.”
“You think I don’t know? She likes outer space documentaries, peer-reviewed articles on theoretical physics, hourlong analyses of the technology and philosophical themes of
Warstar Tianlong, and amphilicite samples from random European quarries. I doubt we’re going to find any of those in this bazaar, Alex!”
“Calm down, friend,” the salesman said, “Do you know anything…less academic she would like?”
“Uh…let’s see…”. Magnus hung there for a few seconds.
Alex realized it first. “You don’t know.”
“Of course I do!” Magnus’ face was red now.
“Yeah, you don’t know.”
Magnus glared at him.
“In that case, may I suggest something?” the salesman said.
“Better not be some tacky overpriced souvenir for tourists,” Alex said.
“You wound me! Why, I would never!” The salesman rummaged under his counter. “Every year I always give my wife the same gift.”
“Wouldn’t she complain?” Magnus said.
“No, because it was this.” The salesman took out a physical photograph, something Alex hadn’t seen in a long time. This one showed the salesman and his wife at a Nowruz celebration last year. The salesman pointed to the hat his wife was wearing. “Well, not exactly the same, but I always get something she’d like to wear. Last year she needed a new hat because it was sunny a lot. The year before, I bought her new shoes because her old ones wore out. I wouldn’t recommend buying shoes, though. Even though they’re cheap, there’s all those dark rumors about where they come from.”
Rumors? Not surprised, but maybe I should’ve known that when Thea and I went shoe shopping after we first got here. “And this year?”
“A jacket. Because it’s cold.”
“A jacket…” Magnus said. “She could use a new coat. Would she like that, Alex? You should know what your cousin likes, wouldn’t you?”
“It’s a good bet,” Alex said.
Unlike Magnus, I do
know what she likes.
“Excellent choice,” the salesman said.
“You wouldn’t happen to know a good coat store in this bazaar, would you?”
The salesman smiled.
“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me,” Magnus said.
“I’m a newspaper salesman, and I have been for many decades, but fortunately for you, my
Rōmāyī friend, I have a spare coat lying around in my closet. My wife’s old coat, in fact.”
“You sure a hand-me-down’s gonna work as a holiday gift?” Magnus said. “It’s kind of my marriage on my line here.”
You’re exaggerating, but whatever.
“Don’t worry, young man, even if it’s been used in the past, it’s still very warm and presentable. Not to mention fashionable.”
Alexandra’s idea of fashion is wearing lab coats as often as she can. I think I can count the times she’s worn a dress or skirt in the last 20 years on one hand.
“Here, let me go get it right now!” The salesman briefly ran back into his house and emerged several seconds later with the coat. It seemed to be a light brown trench coat, with a fur collar and embroidered geometric patterns like those found in the palace and fire temples. The patterns were sewn all over, but they had been done in a subtle way that didn’t draw attention. In a way, it reminded Alex a little of the coat Aunt Angela used to wear. “See for yourself. No tears or stains. I even washed it a few times.”
“If it’s not even worn out, why’d your wife stop wearing it?” Magnus said.
The salesman nervously looked behind him and then leaned in closer. “Honestly, she was a little paranoid about how cold the nuclear winter could get. I was too, after I saw the forecast for the next week. We’re both getting up there in age. But don’t tell her I said any of that.”
“Heard you loud and clear,” Alex said.
I don’t think that’s going to happen. “Magnus, you like this?”
Magnus shrugged. “Not like I have another good choice right now. Alright, how much?”
The salesman tapped on an archaic cash register and double-checked his math with an equally old calculator. “Normally I don’t sell clothes, but if I did, I’d have charged maybe a hundred dinars for this. But since you two young men have been so fun to talk to—the most fun I’ve had on the job in years—I’ll give you a discount. Fifty dinars.”
Seems reasonable. Clothes in the bazaar typically go for 150 or more these days, unless they’re shoes, but if this guy’s suspicions are right, there’s a reason they’re so cheap. Alex looked at Magnus. “Still good?”
Magnus nodded and took out his wallet. “Yes, of course.” He handed a fifty dinar bill—showing Shahbanu Furuzan—to the salesman, who handed the coat to Magnus with a smile. “Let’s see how this goes.”
“
Xeyli mamnun!” he beamed. “You’ve truly made my day. I hope your lady friend enjoys that coat as much as my wife did. Gotta bundle up in this weather, right?”
“Right, right,” Magnus said, “Hopefully she likes this.”
“We should get going,” Alex said, “The store I wanted to check out is closing early.”
“Best be on your way, my friends,” the salesman said, “Safe travels, and may you both survive this Sepandārmazgān!”
They said their goodbyes and left the stand.
“Well, that was an unexpected detour,” Magnus said, “Where to next?”
“The place where I’m going to get my gift,” Alex said, “Over there.”
They soon reached another stand. This one sold womens’ shawls, each hand-sewn by the same old woman behind the counter.
“I was last here to get a shawl for Thea to wear during the memorial service,” Alex said, “But I wanted to get one for casual wear.”
“You seem to be on top of things,” Magnus said, “Unlike me.”
“Nonsense, you’ve been a great help.”
Magnus shook his head. “Doesn’t feel that way a lot of the time. Sometimes, I feel third wheeled among us four. Which is weird because there are four of us.”
“Third wheeled?” Alex said. “How so?”
“Well, you have Thea, and Alexandra’s your cousin. You two did most of the theoretical and engineering work on the reactor. I just did the code, put my name on the certificate with Alexandra, and…God forbid…the presentations.”
“Hey, all that was helpful. We wouldn’t have gotten to where we were without that code. And the reason we still have funding is because Gunduz believes in us thanks to your presentations on our work.”
“You sure it isn’t cronyism? Because Alexandra happens to be friends with Wilhelmina and Wilhelmina’s pretty close with Her Blunt Majesty?”
“No, Gunduz would know better. Please, Magnus, don’t look down on yourself. We do appreciate you. Even if we do tease you about the presentations all the time. If you want, we could start presenting a couple times, and maybe you could try your hand at testing the Impala reactor.”
Magnus lit up. “Really?”
Alex patted him on the shoulder. “Of course. You’re our friend, after all. No, after all we’ve been through, you’re our family. My dad—and Aunt Angie—always told me family looks out for each other.”
Magnus smiled. “Thanks, Alex.”
“No problem.” Alex dug around in his pocket and took out several dinar bills. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a shawl to buy. I already have an idea of what Thea would like.”
Ali Qapu Palace lab
Alex and Magnus found Thea and Alexandra in the lab as usual. They had made room in the middle of the lab for the Impala. The 70-year-old car had been stripped down to its frame after disposing of all of the broken parts. That included all of the doors and windows, leaving the car looking more like an empty shell than an actual vehicle. Alexandra was writing her observations down in a notebook. Thea was adjusting the engine block. The new engine looked unlike any engine Alex was used to. It lacked the combustion chambers and pistons of the traditional gas engines his mother taught him to work with, though he had largely forgotten most of his lessons by now. Although it was sleeker than an electric motor, it was also taller than one, with exhaust vents on top. Several glass panels revealed a light blue glow coming from within.
Thea looked up from working on the betharium fusion reactor. “Hey, you’re back. How was the shopping—”. She noticed the bags in Alex and Magnus’ hands. “Oh. What’s that?”
Alex lightly nudged Magnus with his foot.
“We brought presents for Sep…Sepan…Spendar…oh forget it,” Magnus said, “You know the name. We got you two stuff.”
That got Alexandra’s attention. “Really? What did you get me, Magnus?” She spoke with a little sternness, probably annoyed by Magnus’ flippant tone.
“Uh…” Magnus stammered. “Here.” He dig into his bag and took out the coat. “I bought you this overcoat. Cost fifty dinars.”
Alexandra raised an eyebrow. “A coat? And for only fifty dinars?”
Alex could easily see Magnus fidgeting and shaking nervously. “So…” Magnus said. “I searched all over the bazaar for something to get you, talked to this newspaper stand owner for a few minutes, and he directed me to something I thought you’d like, soI’dliketohearyourthoughts—”
“I like it.” Alexandra smiled.
“Frak, I knew this would happen, I’m gonna dip out and go look for another—wait, you really like it?”
Alexandra closely scrutinized the coat. “Well, the color’s faded in a couple areas. I see a little wear and tear around the wrist collars. Some loose threads here and there. It’s obviously been previously owned. But I can tell you went through a lot to find this. You really went out of your way to find something you thought I would like. And I
do like it. The patterns are pretty.”
“I was just worried about replacing your mother’s coat. I know it has sentimental value to you.” Magnus looked at a coat hanger by the wall, where Angela’s old tattered coat hung. “Even if it’s pretty beaten up.”
Alexandra understood what he meant. “That coat…it’s definitely sentimental. Mom wore it after her grandpa died wearing it, and then she died wearing it. When I put on that coat, I feel the weight of all of their sacrifices and efforts over the decades. I remember everything Mom worked and fought for. Honestly? Sometimes that weight is too much.”
She took the “new” coat from Magnus. “Mom was Mom, and I am myself. She wouldn’t want me to be exactly like herself. Maybe that’s why she sent me to live with the von Calws, so I wouldn’t follow her into her Athanatoi.”
“We went over this before,” Alex said, “We are our own people. We don’t have to follow what our parents did.”
Alexandra looked at Angela’s coat and then her new one. She nodded. Then she put it on, shrugging a few times to get her arms through the sleeves. “It’s okay, Magnus. You don’t have to worry. I think it’s time I gave Mom’s coat a rest.”
“What, you’re going to throw it out?” Magnus said. “Hold on a moment.”
“No, no, no.” Alexandra held up her hands, inadvertently showing off the patterns on her sleeves. “I’d never do that. I’m just going to put it away for now. Since I’ve gotten a new coat and all. How do I look?”
“Great, as always,” Magnus said, “Though I really think you should drop the lab coat. Wearing two coats at once is weird.”
“You’re probably right.” She turned to Alex. “Sorry for taking the spotlight away from you. What did you get Thea?”
“Oh, uh, right.”
Almost forgot I’m here too. He opened his bag and took out a Persian shawl. This one was like the one he got her for the memorial service, though this one had no patterns. It was a subdued red with some purple highlights. “Another shawl for you, Thea. Handmade by that lady in the bazaar, you know the one. If you’ll look closely at the button there…”
Magnus rolled his eyes. “Oh, way to upstage me, Alex.”
Thea took the shawl, feeling the soft fabric in her hands. The shawl was supposed to be put over her shoulders but not wrapped around her, instead falling over her arms and upper body. It was held in place with a button loosely clasping the shawl around her neck. This button was monogrammed with three overlapping letters spelling “HFT.” For Alex, the pattern held a certain beauty in its simplicity and subtlety.
“It cost an extra forty dinars for her son to engrave the monogram, but I think it was worth it,” Alex said, “Why don’t you try it on, Thea?”
Thea put on the shawl, adjusting it so the button went over the middle of her collarbone and both sides of the shawl hung evenly down her arms. With her hair done in a ponytail and her hands clasped in front of her, she looked positively regal, carrying herself with a certain grace.
How does she do that?
When she smiled, Alex’s heart fluttered, and his face melted. “So, how do I look?”
Alex could barely speak. “Uh…um…absolutelystunningyesindeed. Er, I mean, absolutely stunning.”
“I love it!” Thea leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. “That was a great gift. I always love Sepa…Se…never mind, you know what I mean.”
“Get a room, you two,” Magnus joked.
“So when’s the wedding?” Alexandra said.
“Shouldn’t be more worried about the war first?” Alex said.
“If you want to end up like us with our really long engagement, then sure,” Magnus said.
“At least you guys didn’t have to worry about not dying in a war that will decide the fate of the world,” Thea said, “Especially when it feels like we’re approaching the most pivotal moment of the war.”
“How
do you get that feeling, anyways?”
Thea shrugged. “Hell if I know. You could say it’s…
wrapped around me.”
Everyone fell silent. Alexandra glared at Magnus and shook her fist. “MAGNUS! WHAT DID I SAY?!”
“I swear I stopped!” Magnus put his hands up.
That wasn’t even a good one…
---
I decided to draw out the monogram literally right before writing this message, while doing final edits. It took about five minutes to do, and most of the time came from trying out fonts. The original plan was to use Times New Roman, but I couldn't figure out how to make it work, so I went with Sans Serif. I think that's better as it's much simpler and can be taken for a simple pattern if not a monogram.
