A Persian Requiem (13 page)

Ameh Khanom was sitting there, with her veil still on.

“Sister,” she said, “Mehri sends her regards but says she’s cross with you because you didn’t call in for the Rowzeh. She won’t forget it, she said.”

Mina clapped her hands together from where she was sitting. “She’s cross with you! She’s cross with you!” she chanted.

Then she turned round to kiss her father under the chin, and struggled to climb down from his lap. Yusef hugged both children tightly. “Well,” he said, “what else are you going to tell me about, my little dolls?”

Zari, staring at the verandah lights and listening to the sounds in the garden, could not think where to begin. Like the patients at the asylum that afternoon, her mind was all in a jumble though she
seemed composed on the outside. Mosquitoes, tiny moths and various kinds of dragonflies flitted around the verandah light, got stuck to it, and finally dropped off. In the garden, the crickets and the frogs were having a contest. There was no other sound or movement. If the boys were heading home, she would easily have heard their footsteps. She had to tell the others now and rouse them to some kind of action, make them comb the town to find her son. What if this were the shepherd’s vengeance? What if the Lord had sent them the shepherd’s son in exchange for their own son? She felt sick. The trees seemed to slumber under the heavy blanket of the sky. If only there was a breeze, or if she could, like a furious wind, whip the trees and everyone around her into action. If only the sky would clear so the stars, like a million eyes, could scour the earth for Khosrow, and the trees could whisper his whereabouts to her.

“Let’s go and sit somewhere else,” she said involuntarily.

Yusef was holding up Marjan’s hair and kissing the nape of her neck. He laughed and said, “What better place than right here?”

“Let’s go and find Khosrow,” said Zari.

“Sister, Khosrow has gone to Abol-Ghassem Khan’s with Hormoz,” said Ameh Khanom.

Zari was unable to contain herself anymore. “But he’s not there!” she sobbed. “He’s gone off with a rope and a blanket, though his gun is still here.”

Yusef put the children down in amazement. “What for?” he demanded. “Where could he have gone to?”

“I don’t know where he’s gone,” Zari replied through her tears. “Let’s go and find him. I know something has happened to my son. I realized it when I saw Kolu. It—it must be God’s revenge. God has sent Kolu to replace my son.” And she broke down into loud sobs.

Yusef got up and held her by her shoulders. “Your nerves have been under strain,” he said. “It’s my fault for telling you everything that happens. Put these superstitions out of your mind. Call
Abol-Ghassem
Khan’s house. Maybe he’s there.”

“I’ve already called.”

“I’ll put the twins to bed,” Ameh Khanom volunteered. “Go over the hill to the Governor’s house. I’ve a feeling Khosrow and Hormoz are there.”

“What’s all this, sister?” Yusef asked with a look. “Have you turned clairvoyant?”

“The sooner you leave the better,” Ameh insisted. “I’ll call Abol-Ghassem and ask him to get there as soon as possible.”

“I don’t understand it at all,” Yusef said wearily. Then he had an idea. “They could have gone to Fotouhi’s house. Hormoz’s history teacher. But then Fotouhi’s in Isfahan. I know he’s not back yet.”

“Come on, leave right away,” Ameh Khanom urged. “Zari will tell you everything on the way.”

Zari and Yusef went out by the small door in the back wall of the garden which opened on to the foot of the hill behind their house. They headed towards the hill.

“What have you been up to, woman?” Yusef demanded. “What have you led Khosrow into? Maybe it’s my own fault for not controlling my tongue … walk faster …” He took such long strides that Zari had to run over the rocky terrain to keep up with him. By the time they reached the top of the hill, Zari had had enough. The Governor’s estate, on the other side of the hill, looked wide awake with all its twinkling lights. Zari, panting hard, collapsed on a rock.

“Wait a minute,” she said.

Her pulse was racing, her stomach heaved. She retched and then vomited so violently she thought she would bring up her insides too. Yusef took her by the shoulders and massaged her neck.

“You’re driving me mad!” he begged. “Why don’t you tell me what’s happened, for goodness’ sake? What has brought us all the way here to look for the boys?”

“You go on,” Zari replied. “I’ll sit right here. If you don’t bring Khosrow back with you, I’ll die on this very spot. I’ll lay my head on this rock and die. Abol-Ghassem Khan forced us to send Sahar for the Governor’s daughter. I guess Khosrow’s now gone to steal Sahar back from the Governor’s house. That place is surrounded by gendarmes and guards! They’ve probably killed my son!” And she sobbed hysterically.

Yusef slapped Zari. It was the first time he had ever done such a thing. Zari didn’t know it would be the last time also.

“Shut your mouth!” he said quietly. “In my absence you’re no better than a stuffed dummy!”

He let go of her roughly and headed downhill. He was wild with rage. Zari got up despite herself, wiped her mouth on her skirt and began to run. She stumbled, and got up again. She had to reach him and calm him down. She could see his looming silhouette in the darkness approach the wall of the Governor’s estate and stop.
Thank God he had stopped. Somehow she managed to reach him with her last ounce of energy. By now she was fighting for breath. She grabbed his hand, but he only peered around, listening for noises.

“We’ll go to the guard-post by the gate,” he said. “If we hear the boys’ voices we’ll go in. God help them if there’s so much as a scratch on either one of the boys!”

“Promise me you won’t make a fuss if they’re all right,” Zari pleaded.

They knocked at the gatehouse and went in. Yes, the boys were there. A young lieutenant was sitting casually on a desk, the smoke curling up from a cigarette dangling from his lips, in imitation of movie-star officers. When he saw the husband and wife, he asked, “What can I do for you? I suppose you’ve lost the way too?”

On the desk was a half-eaten tray of food, and in front of it stood Khosrow and Hormoz. Two armed non-commissioned officers—one of whom Zari immediately recognized as the man who had come to take Sahar away—were searching the boys’ pockets. Khosrow looked as if he had been crying. When he saw his father, a smile broke across his face, and Zari felt as if she could breathe again.

Gholam’s friend extracted a few lumps of sugar from Khosrow’s pocket. He put them on the table and stood to attention.

“Sugar-lumps, lieutenant!” he announced.

“On what charge have my boys been brought here?” Yusef demanded angrily.

Disregarding his question, the lieutenant said, “To be included in the file.”

“Sir,” Zari interrupted as calmly as she could, “these boys go on scientific expeditions in the afternoons.” Her eyes took in the rope and blanket on the table and the sack Hormoz was holding, inside which something seemed to be squirming. “They collect stones and … and …” she hesitated, unable to guess what was inside the sack. So she said, “They collect insects, butterflies, field mice. They dry them later. They take a blanket to sit on and rest. Sometimes they take a rope and pretend they’re Tarzan … or if they find suitable trees, they make a swing …”

The young lieutenant was clearly becoming interested in Zari’s face and voice. Zari continued, “Tonight they were late, so we came to fetch them.”

“It’s true, sir,” Hormoz confirmed. “We’ve sworn it to you. We’d gone on an expedition, lost our way, and when we saw the lights we came here.”

The lieutenant squashed his cigarette butt in the ashtray.

“Then why did you whistle?” he inquired.

“We whistled so some kindly person like yourself could hear us and come to our rescue,” answered Hormoz.

Yusef lost his temper again. “What possible harm could these two defenceless young boys do with a couple of sugar-lumps in their pockets?” he shouted.

Zari grasped her husband’s arm. “Please don’t get angry, my dear,” she pleaded. “You can see the boys are perfectly safe and sound. There’s just been a misunderstanding which we’ll soon clear up.”

“They’re treating my children like criminals,” Yusef shouted more angrily than before. “Do you know why they came here …”

Zari knew that if Yusef told the truth, there would be no end to the matter, and none of them would be allowed to leave. “My husband has just returned from a journey,” she interrupted, explaining to the lieutenant, “he’s very tired …”

The lieutenant suddenly noticed the sack Hormoz was holding. “What’s in this sack?” he queried.

“A snake, sir!” Hormoz answered coolly.

“A snake?” the lieutenant exclaimed.

Zari instantly realized that it was probably the snake Haj
Mohammad
Reza had found in their house. She remembered that the snake’s fangs had been pulled.

“I told you they collect reptiles. This time they found a snake. But it’s probably harmless.”

“Would you like to see it, sir?” Hormoz asked. And he emptied the contents of the sack on the floor.

A brightly-spotted snake crawled out. At first it held its head high, looking straight at the lieutenant’s shoe. Then it flashed its tongue and slithered under the desk. The lieutenant hastily lifted his feet out of the way.

“Kill it!” he cried.

Gholam’s friend went for the snake with his rifle butt, but it escaped.

“Threatening the life of an officer on duty with a snake …!” shouted the lieutenant. But he never finished his sentence.
Jumping down from the desk on which he had taken refuge a few seconds ago, he inadvertently stepped on the head of the snake. Meanwhile Gholam’s friend was about to attack the snake again when the lieutenant suddenly stood to attention and did a military salute.

“Good evening, your honour!” he said.

Zari turned to discover Abol-Ghassem Khan in the doorway. “Sister,” he chuckled, “is this where you bring your newly-arrived husband?”

The young lieutenant was stammering in confusion. His foot was still on the snake’s head, while at the other end the tail wriggled grotesquely.

“Your honour,” he said, “I had no idea the gentleman was your honour’s brother. Even though the resemblance of nobility can be detected in every feature … if I have given offence, please forgive me, I apologize …” And turning to Yusef, he bowed and said, “Why did you not inform me, sir?” Indicating the other graded officers he added, “I shall have these bastards thrown in jail.” Giving the man closest at hand a slap across the face, he barked, “Imbecile, you bring the son of the most respected man in town to this sentry post?”

“Forgive them this time,” Abol-Ghassem Khan said with measured coolness and dignity. “My regards to His Excellency, the Governor. It’s too late, otherwise we would have gone to convey our regards in person.”

Yusef, Abol-Ghassem and the boys were climbing back up the hill, joking and chatting. The sons were telling their fathers all about it from the beginning. They took no notice of Zari. She no longer had the strength to follow them uphill so she turned into a side-street which led up to the main road, and walked off alone as quickly as possible. A few Indian soldiers were sitting by the stream along the road, another one urinating at the foot of a tree. When Zari passed him, he turned and flashed his naked body at her, saying, “Need woman!”

Zari quickened her step. A gendarme and a night-guard turned to look at her as they walked past. Deep down she was hoping that either her son or her husband would follow her, but when she turned into the small road that ran alongside their garden, she saw
no one on her trail and felt it was just as well they hadn’t even done her that favour.

As she went into the garden, she was surprised that the others had not arrived yet. The twins were sleeping peacefully under the mosquito net. Zari sank on to her knees by the pool and immersed her face in the water. Then she sat on the edge of the pool and soaked her feet in the surrounding overflow. The water was
luke-warm
. She placed her hand on the head of the stone figure by the pool. Whenever they needed to use the well for watering the garden, the cistern supply flowed out of that open stone mouth. Hossein Kazerouni, the labourer, would arrive with a little cushion which he placed on the ledge behind the treadwheel, and from morning till dusk, from that cushion-seat he would work the wheel with his feet, filling the water-bucket and bringing it up to the surface. His hands were free, except when the brimming bucket appeared. Then he would detach the bucket and empty it into the little reservoir which led in turn to the cistern. Alone, from morning till dusk, that was all he did. When he went to other houses, he did the same thing. He never even sang, and Zari used to think it was a wonder his mind didn’t wither away. In order to keep him entertained, she would send the twins to watch him and talk to him. But how long could they be expected to stand there and watch?

Suddenly Zari thought, “That’s the way I’m spending my whole life! Every day I’ve sat behind a wheel and made it turn. The wheel of our lives, nurturing my children, my flowers …”

Ameh Khanom called her from the roof, interrupting her thoughts. “Did Abol-Ghassem Khan arrive on time?” she asked.

Zari lifted her head and said, “Ameh Khanom, please come down. I’m not in the mood for arguing with them by myself.”

There was loud knocking at the garden gate. Gholam, lantern in hand, dressed in a nightshirt and his usual felt hat, opened the gate. They all came in. But Khosrow followed Gholam straight to the stables and stopped in front of Sahar’s make-believe grave. Zari could only see his legs in the light of Gholam’s lantern and she stood up despite herself to get a better look at what he was doing. The feet kicked over the flowerpots one by one, and then all of Khosrow could be seen squatting to dig out the stones arranged around the grave. He flung them around the garden, disturbing the birds in the trees. The others came to join Zari and sat on the cane
chairs. By this time, Ameh Khanom had come down too. Her head was bare and she was wearing a long white nightdress.