1990

He saw her every morning when he left for school. He had to stop outside their front gate, just a few steps over from his own, so that her younger brother could walk with him. All their parents thought it was safer that way –for the seven year old to walk with his eleven year old friend rather than on his own- and so every morning Aram stopped. And he waited. Samar always walked out across the garden with Shahin; the two of them were close. Shahin missed her during the day and still didn't understand why she couldn't go with him to school, while Samar fussed over him adoringly and insisted at least on walking him to the gate while their parents watched on from the front door.

'Hi,' Aram murmured to her one morning. Samar's eyes snapped to his, wide in surprise. They hadn't spoken much to one another before. Tiny smiles were occasionally exchanged in friendly greeting over the fence, or polite small talk was made over the table when their combined parents had dinner together, but that was about it. Aram certainly hadn't greeted her at the gate beyond a nervous smile before, where neither of their parents could hear them. Now he bore the expression of simultaneous absolute terror, and pride, amazement, and disbelief in himself for having uttered that tiny word. Aram had been wanting to talk to her for so long, but he had been afraid to... But now, it had just slipped out. Samar however, couldn't help but smile as the surprise wore off –a far more genuine smile than the sheer polite, neighbourly ones they usually exchanged. She had that wild, rebellious streak, where she got a kick out of breaking the more minor rules where she could. And she liked that neighbour boy too; he seemed sweet, friendly, and not at all fussed about the fact that she was a girl -which was far more than could be said for the other boys around town who walked down their street on the way to school and either turned their noses up or sneered down them at her if she was in the garden when they passed.
'Hi,' Samar whispered back. Aram blinked for a second, and then a breath seemed to catch in his throat at the fact she actually replied. To him. His eyes went wide, and he gave her an awkward, lopsided grin for a second, before sheepishly bowing his head once more.
'Come on, Shahin,' he prompted the smaller boy between them instead, 'we're going to be late for school.' Aram tugged gently on his arm, and Shahin followed without protest, pausing only to wave goodbye to Samar and their parents. Samar watched them walk away, as Aram struggled not to pause and glance back at her over his shoulder. She watched them go, a thrilled smile on her face where her parents behind her couldn't see, until Aram and Shahin disappeared into the distance down the street, and around the corner where she couldn't see them anymore.

/*/*/*/*

1998

'Mr. Navabi,' Aram cautiously began. He had arrived and knocked on the front door as early as he could, but without being too early of course. Aram was nervous; he wanted the conversation to go well. After all, his and Samar's entire plan for him to hire her so that she could earn enough money to leave, was hinged entirely on her father allowing it to go forward. Now Aram stood in Arash Navabi's home office, shifting awkwardly on his feet and trying to figure out the best way to explain the situation. 'Uh... I was wondering if I could ask you something about Samar?'
'If you're after her hand in marriage, you really should have sent your father to speak to me instead,' the older man mused –all too matter of factly- from the paperwork on his desk, without even lifting his gaze to meet Aram's. Aram's eyes went wide in horror.
'Excuse me?' He spluttered in response. Of course, Samar's parents knew how he felt about her, and so did Aram's own parents... Not that Aram knew they all knew, and not that Samar knew any of it at all, for that matter... But for the sake of allowing their children to figure these things –and what to do about it- out for themselves, they pretended not to know a thing –well, so long as Aram and Samar behaved appropriately for the most part, anyway.

With an amused smirk, the older man finally looked up, slowly removed his glasses, and then gazed at Aram's mortified expression.

He was joking. Of course he was.

Samar's dry, teasing sense of humour had to come from somewhere.

'I'm kidding, Aram,' Arash said softly. 'What did you want to ask me?'
'Uh, well...' Aram tried to start all over again while trying to calm himself down all at the same time. 'Now that I'm taking over the bookstore, I have to hire a new assistant. I was wondering if I could hire Samar.'
'That might raise a few eyebrows,' Arash observed, raising his own curious eyebrow as he spoke.
'It might.'
'But?'
'Why do you assume there's a but?' Aram asked quickly, then paused. Then he kicked himself internally for asking the older man such an abrupt question. 'Sir?' He hurriedly tacked onto the end, in an attempt to make it sound more polite. Arash's lip quirked up with the tiniest hint of amusement. In truth, he had a certain degree of affection for the son of his neighbour and dear friend... A certain degree of respect too, in fact, for the young man who had such affection in turn for his daughter, and was her secret confidant while always treating her with the utmost respect. Arash knew all these things about Aram, but he wasn't about to show his approval too outwardly.
'Isn't there always?' He mused.
'But, most of the time she would be working in a separate area of the store from me,' Aram quickly relented, 'and she would hardly be seen.' Arash resisted allowing the smile to widen proudly across his face; clearly, Aram and Samar had put some thought into the plan... But he had to press on with his questions; if ever the wrong person discovered Samar working for Aram, they too would thoroughly scrutinise Aram's decision to hire her... And for Samar's safety, Arash had to know that Aram's answers could hold up.
'Why not hire another young man?' He asked.
'Because Samar loves to read,' Aram replied quickly in turn.
'Does she now?' Arash's curious, drawn out question lingered almost threateningly in the air between them. A breath caught in Aram's throat as he did a double take and wondered if that was something he was supposed to know or not.
'Sometimes I see her reading in the front garden, sir,' Aram said slowly, reflecting back to anything he could think of besides his secret conversations with Samar, that could explain how we would know such a thing. 'And she was always reading in your living room when I tutored Shahin a few years ago.'
'A logical assumption, then,' Arash murmured, nodding slowly.
'Thank you...' In truth, Aram had no idea whether that was supposed to be a positive observation or not, but Arash didn't question him any further, so he decided to continue; 'I figure she's familiar with a lot of books, so she might be able to sort through all the books in the store faster than someone who is, uh, less familiar with them.'
'Ok then,' Arash said simply, before turning back to the paperwork on his desk.
'Ok?' Clearly, Arash was now satisfied with his answers, but it seemed far too easy all of a sudden for Aram's taste.
'Ok, you may employ her, if she also agrees to work for you,' the older man murmured again. 'When would you like her to start?'
'Next week if that's ok.' Aram shifted awkwardly on his feet once again. 'The store is mine as of Monday.'

Arash gave another short nod, committing the detail to memory... Then he lifted his head once again, gazing past Aram and through the half open doorway to his office.

'Samar?' He called out. Within seconds, she appeared in the doorway, eyes wide in feigned curiosity. Arash rose to his feet as she appeared, stepping forwards ever so slightly to stand beside Aram in the centre of the room. He was just as tall as Aram, but wider built and far more physically intimidating –even if, personality wise, he wasn't intimidating to the people who really knew him at all. His eyes crinkled slightly at the sight of his daughter standing there. They almost twinkled for her, in fact.
'Yes, Father?' Samar replied, all too innocently. Arash couldn't help but let out a wry smile.
'Do you agree?' He asked simply. Samar paused before responding, cautiously avoiding Aram's gaze as she held her father's instead.
'Agree with what?' Her voice remained as innocent as she could muster... But Arash's wry smile only widened further.
'Since when do you not listen behind walls when my conversations are about you, my dear?' He chuckled. Samar did a double take, taken by surprise for a moment.
'I'm happy to work in Aram's-' she quickly answered, and avoided her father's question all at once –and then she suddenly stopped, and corrected herself '-Mr Mojtabai's store.'
'Then you start Monday,' Arash chirped, seemingly pleased with the situation all of a sudden. Or at least, so he seemed to Aram and Samar, who had no idea he had really been pleased all along.

Aram and Samar couldn't help but exchange delighted –albeit fleeting- grins, before both hurriedly returned their glances awkwardly to the floor, and Aram began to toy nervously with his watch.

'You need something else, Aram?' Arash drolly broke the silence, and made them both jump.
'Uh, no,' Aram said quickly, 'no, sir.' He scurried across the remainder of the room, towards where Samar stood in the doorway. Clearly, it was time for him to leave. Arash followed him out of the room, each of them pausing only to offer Samar a short nod and polite smile on the way past, before Aram was led away, back to the front door.

/*/*/*/*

It took mere minutes for both Samar and Aram to find an excuse to slip out into their respective back gardens and hurry towards the hole in the fence. They each stood, facing the fence, foreheads bowed and leaning against the wooden planks, with a hand rested gently beside the gap. They were perfectly symmetrical, touching and leaning against one another if not for the fence that stood between them. For a moment they stood there in total silence, still processing everything that had just happened; their plan was working... Neither of them could really believe it just yet. And as much as Aram was now faced with the dilemma of helping her leave when all he wanted was for her to stay, for the moment he couldn't be happier. Samar was utterly ecstatic, and it showed even in the way she carried herself. Her head was held high, the weary tension was gone completely from her shoulders, and her eyes crinkled in delight. The happiness and sheer contentment was contagious. She had that wide, truly happy smile on her face that Aram hadn't seen very often at all in the last few months... And if nothing else served to make him happy too, that certainly did.

'Your father scares me,' Aram finally broke the silence, grinning sheepishly.
'He means well,' Samar chuckled softly back. 'He wouldn't have given you the time of day if he didn't like you.'

/*/*/*/*

1990

The grins were wide on both Samar and Shahin's faces as they kicked the soccer ball back and forth in their back garden that morning. Or rather, Shahin mostly kicked it back and forth. Samar didn't have the same level of proficiency with the ball that he did, and mostly gave chase while Shahin cackled gleefully. After all, Shahin spent far more hours practising with it than Samar was able to... But Samar certainly tried to hold her own. Against someone else with the same amount of practice that she had, Samar definitely would have been the stronger player; she had the same natural talent that Shahin did, just less opportunity to harness it.

The two of them would kick the ball back and forth and chase it around the garden for hours if they could; it was one of the rare places where they had the privacy and safety simply to enjoy being children without being concerned about the worries and judgement of the world around them.

Shahin dribbled the ball with his toes around the fruit trees, then the raised vegetable garden beds, then the flower pots. Samar chased eagerly, making up the distance with ease given the strides of her greater height and longer legs, but still her footwork didn't match Shahin's. The ball passed rapidly from foot to foot, three times between Shahin's feet for every one time Samar managed to catch it between her own. Shahin let out a loud, teasing laugh as he ducked around her, making the final dash for the garden tools lined up against the fence that they had designated as a makeshift goal net.

He lined himself up as Samar gave chase once again, ready to kick the ball towards the fence. He glanced over his shoulder to see how far away she was, and nearly jumped –she was closer than he thought, and she was gaining ground rapidly. Shahin turned forwards again, quickening in pace... And then he stumbled.

Shahin stumbled over the ball, over his own feet, and in the process the ball launched forwards with even more force than he could have even tried to kick it with. Shahin landed flat on his face in the dirt but quickly pushed himself up again as fast as he could. Samar came to a sudden stop just behind him, grabbing his arm and practically skidding in the dirt as she stared in horror at the ball flying too hard, too fast towards the fence. A split second felt like an eternity as they watched the ball, completely unable to stop it.

And then there was impact.

The ball struck the heavy spade they were using as one of the goalposts, one of its sharp corners puncturing the ball immediately on impact and leaving its now rapidly deflating form to fall dejectedly to the ground.

But the spade wasn't done.

The impact pushed it into the fence it leaned upon, shaking the whole wall of rough wooden planks and making a loud thud noise that echoed in both their ears.

On the other side of the fence, minding his own business and trying to drown out the happy noises of his two neighbours playing so gleefully together, Aram sat by himself reading the latest book swiped from his father's store... Until the loud thud and the subsequent sudden silence as both Samar and Shahin fell quiet in horror, made Aram look up, setting his book down beside him and staring at the fence in curiosity.

There was a hole in the edge of one of the planks, and the plank itself was now loose on its nails. The spade had been leaning up against the edge of it, almost sliding into the narrow gap between that plank and the next one. On impact it had been pushed into the gap, taking a chunk out of the edge, and then wedging itself further into the gap, until the spade too, fell to the ground.

On Samar and Shahin's side of the fence, they both stood stunned looking at the damage. Samar instinctively grasped Shahin's hand as their parents sprinted outside, alarmed by the noise, and brushed past them. Her father stood by the fence, contemplating the damage for a while, before grumbling something to his wife that Samar and Shahin couldn't quite hear, then gesturing in frustration for them both to go back inside. They did so, far too nervous to protest, and then sat anxiously in the living room, waiting...

They knew it wasn't their fault, not really. They used the spade and the other tools as goalposts frequently, and without issue. On this occasion Shahin had simply slipped and accidentally hit the ball harder than usual as his feet fought for traction against the ground.

They waited for what felt like an eternity for their parents to return inside and yell, but they never did. Perhaps they somehow understood what had happened, Samar didn't know. All she and Shahin heard was a brief hammering noise, which when she glanced cautiously out the window she noted to be her father attempting to hammer the plank back in place, all the while her mother watched on.

After a while both came back inside, and tried to act reasonable. There was a quiet lunch, and then both kids were sent off to play once more, while their mother tidied up and their father returned to his office, gritting his teeth. Shahin retreated to his room, to play with his model trucks instead, but Samar ventured curiously outside once more.

She stared at the fence. The plank wasn't quite hanging as loose as it had been, but it certainly wasn't as strong as it once was either. Her fingertips traced the edge of the small hole in the edge that was only about as big as her tiny, ten year old fist, studying the shape that the corner of the spade had made.

A familiar face appeared on the opposite side of the fence, one that she could now see there, given the hole in the plank. It was Aram, apparently having returned to observe the damage himself, too. Samar studied him curiously in turn, eyeing his wide, friendly eyes, and his wild mess of dark hair that stuck out in what seemed like eleven different directions. She smiled softly, remembering his nervous greeting of her at the gate the morning before.

'Hi,' she suddenly greeted him again. It felt wrong not to, when they were both standing there, staring at a hole in a piece of wood from opposite sides. Aram jumped as she spoke, staring back at her through the gap like a deer caught in headlights.
'Hi,' he cautiously mumbled back, once his brain remembered words again. Samar's smile only widened more so, and she tilted her head slightly, studying the fear on his face almost quizzically this time.
'I'm Samar,' she announced, completely confident and matter of fact about it. She didn't seem to have that fear of speaking to him, nor his awkwardness. If anything, she seemed vaguely excited.
'I know.' Aram hurriedly nodded as he spoke; they had been introduced at those family dinners. 'I mean, uh, I remember.'
'You're Aram,' Samar announced again. On the other side of the fence, Aram furrowed his brow in confusion.
'I know that too,' he said quickly, wondering why on earth she would tell him such a thing, or if then, there was something he was missing. 'I think.' Samar however, didn't miss a beat. She was far too curious.
'So...' She began again, searching for something to talk about. 'What do you have in your garden?' Aram simply blinked. It seemed she wanted to have a whole conversation through that hole in the fence between them.
'You mean... Like flowers and stuff?' He asked shyly.
'Mmhmm.'
'I don't know much about flowers.'
'I do,' Samar chirped. 'Describe them.'
'Well...' Aram paused again, glancing around his mother's garden, and hoping more than anything that he wasn't about to sound incredibly stupid. 'There's a bunch of little white ones that sort of climb up the fence on the other side.'
'That's jasmine,' Samar said, grinning and nodding happily as she listened. Aram watched her face through the gap; she didn't look judgemental at all. All of a sudden, Aram didn't feel nervous anymore.
'Do you like jasmine?' He asked softly.
'Yeah.' Samar grinned at him through the fence. For that moment, it occurred to neither of them that they really shouldn't have been talking to each other at all, let alone unsupervised through the hole in the fence. 'It smells nice, but I don't have any in my garden.' Aram broke into a wide smile, and he quickly darted away from the fence, across his own garden towards the vines of jasmine, and plucked a few of the soft branches from it. Within another second, he was back at the gap in the fence. The smell of the fresh jasmine in his hands filled his nostrils, and he grinned in delight.
'It does smell nice,' he observed, nodding in amazement. 'Here,' he added, holding the messy bunch up to the gap. His hand was just small enough to push the flowers through. 'For you.' Samar let out a soft gasp as the flowers poked through the gap. They were slightly battered now, having been crumpled in Aram's hand and then shoved through the hole in the fence, but she really didn't care. Samar loved the smell of jasmine, and she took it gladly. She buried her nose in it, inhaling the strong aroma from those tiny white flowers.
'Thank you,' she breathed, almost too quietly for Aram to catch it. He certainly couldn't miss the smile that went with it though, and he smiled back. They both stood there like that, completely silent and smiling at each other in a fashion that was both completely awkward and yet, completely comfortable with one another all at once.

'So...' Aram began again, his eyes crinkling slightly. 'What's in your garden?'

Next up; 'The Sharing'.