A Persian Requiem

  “You’re back so early,” Zari answered, “but I’m glad you’ve returned. You mustn’t touch me, though. I have to take a bath first. I’m full of germs. Oh, when you’re here everything seems so much brighter!” And she hurried inside.

  Bathed and perfumed, she came back into the garden, but by that time it was nearly dark. Yusef was holding his head in his hands. She went to him and lifting his head, kissed him on the hair.

  “Don’t you feel well?” she asked him.

  Yusef pulled his wife on to his lap and the chair creaked beneath them. He kissed her neck and face and bare arms with soft, tender lips. Zari got up.

  “Let me go and put the lights on,” she said.

  “Leave it,” he said, pulling her by the hand.

  “It’s a heavy sky,” Zari observed, glancing up. “But it won’t rain either to let us breathe.”

  “Not unlike my heart …”

  “Well, it’s midsummer,” said Zari. Her mind was on Sahar and how to prevent her husband from asking after the horse.

  “The house felt really empty when I arrived. Where are the children?”

  “Amen Khanom took them to Mehri’s house for the Rowzeh,” replied Zari. “Khosrow has gone out with Hormoz.”

  “You really shouldn’t be sending the children to the Rowzeh.”

  “They insisted on going,” said Zari. “Besides, they don’t pay any attention to all the mourning. They play with Mehri’s children. Ameh Khanom has made them chadors, and they say their prayers standing next to her …” she stopped in mid-sentence. “Why are you back so early?” she asked. “And why did you bring Kolu with you?”

  “Send him to the baths tomorrow and give him some new clothes. I’ve adopted him as a son,” Yusef said quietly. “I killed his father, so I couldn’t stay at the village any longer.”

  Zari’s heart sank. “I don’t understand,” she said. “You killed Kolu’s father? Our shepherd? You? Nonsense!”

  Yusef buried his head in his hands. “Don’t talk about it anymore,” he said. “My head is about to burst.”

  “But won’t you tell me what happened?”

  “Well, that’s why I came back so early. I just dropped everything I had to do and rushed back so I could confide in you, but you weren’t here.”

  Zari took a seat next to her husband and let his head rest on her shoulder, stroking him soothingly.

  “My love, how was I to know you would suddenly arrive? Tell me about it now and I’ll listen. You’ll feel better if you talk about it.”

  “Our shepherd was supposed to take the last of our flocks up to the mountains. Before he went, he killed two of our sheep, cured the flesh and stored it in a sheepskin. I don’t know what suddenly possessed him to do such a thing. He’s never been dishonest before.”

  “Well, you told me yourself that people are panicking because of the famine.”

  Yusef got up and started to pace about.

  “Nothing escapes the notice of the village headman,” he continued, ignoring Zari’s comment. “When I got there, he had to come out and tell me all about it in front of everyone. I wanted to ignore the whole thing, but the headman had no intention of dropping the matter. When the shepherd brought the flock back at sunset, the headman reminded me again. I was forced to interrogate the shepherd and ask him why two sheep were missing. He swore that a wolf had eaten them. The headman then told him to take an oath, and swear by the holy prophet Hazrate Abbas that he was telling the truth.”

  Yusef paused. Then he went on, “I could see the poor soul shaking at the knees as he stepped forward to take the oath. There I was watching him, stupid fool that I am, and I did nothing to stop him. That night he came down with a stomach-ache. I went to his house—or rather hovel. He looked at me with dumb eyes—like a lamb—and begged to be forgiven. I nearly shouted at him that I’d forgiven him all along. I told him that he should know me well enough. But it was no use. Tears were rolling down his face on to his dirty pillow. I tried giving him sweetened warm wine, but he refused it. He kept saying that he’d sinned more than his share and the holy prophet Hazrate Abbas would take his due. ‘But I’m the owner of the sheep and I forgive you, man,’ I said. And still he wouldn’t listen. He just repeated, ‘The prophet has struck me down. You can’t do anything for me anymore. Give the flock to my brother and he’ll care for them in my place.’”

  Yusef sat down by his wife and went on, “He motioned to Massoumeh, Yarqoli’s wife, who disappeared for a moment and came back with two sheepskins full of cured flesh. She threw them in front of me. I wanted the ground to open up and swallow me …”

  “My love,” Zari said calmly, “you know very well it wasn’t your fault. It was that cruel headman who didn’t know any better. The shepherd took a false oath, or maybe he’d just eaten something bad. Besides, why must you think the worst? He could have caught typhus. We know nothing of God’s will. Perhaps his son was meant to get an education and have a bright future. How do we know?”

  Khadijeh came out to the verandah and put the light on. Then she went to the garden to lay out the beds. She fixed up the twins’ bedclothes on a wooden bed on the far side of the pool. Then she arranged the mosquito net over it. When she got to Khosrow’s bed, she laid out the mattress but then it seemed that she had lost something when she got to the bedclothes.

  “Khanom, have you put Khosrow Khan’s blanket somewhere?” she asked Zari.

  “No. Maybe you used it for the ironing yourself,” Zari replied from where she sat.

  “I didn’t, Khanom.”

  “So what’s happened to it?”

  “Well, I don’t know. Maybe the same clumsy thief who stole the clothesline, stole Khosrow Khan’s blanket too.”

  Suddenly Zari was filled with anxiety. Could it be that Khosrow was behind the disappearance of both items? But what for? Very early that morning, even before prayer-time, Zari had been woken up by a light footstep next to where she slept on the roof terrace. When she opened her eyes, she had seen Khosrow, looking stealthily all around him, tiptoe to the clothesline and untie its knot from the hook on the wall. Then he had gathered the entire length of rope around his arm and sneaked into his room with it. When he returned he crawled silently under the mosquito net and pretended to be asleep.

  Khosrow had been acting very strangely these past few days. His mind seemed to be elsewhere and from time to time Zari had caught him staring blankly into space. When he first heard of Sahar’s death, he seemed heart-broken, the tears springing to his eyes at the slightest excuse. He hung around most of the time at the bottom of the garden by the grave, digging out the weeds and watering the flowerpots with his own hands. But recently he had changed. He didn’t even glance at the grave anymore. He avoided his mother’s gaze, and gave only short, confused answers to her questions.

  Zari got up. She had a feeling he had also taken his gun, even though she remembered having locked it away in the cupboard and taken the key with her. Yusef’s voice brought her back to herself. He was saying, “Why are you standing like that? Sit down. Say something.”

  “What did you say?” she said, as if roused from a daydream.

  “I know I’ve upset you. You’re disappointed in me too.”

  “You’re wrong,” Zari answered absently. “It’s not at all your fault. I saw the sick they brought in from the villages to Khanom Massihadem, the midwife. One of them was dead. Typhus has spread in all the villages; the town is full of it too.”

  “What were you doing at Khanom Massihadem’s office?” Yusef asked in amazement. “Are you …”

  Zari felt completely flustered. It was as if they had been inhabiting two different worlds. How little one knows of what goes on in the mind of another person!

  “Oh I just went to buy some anti-flea powder from the pharmacy and I passed by there,” she said. “The door was open so I took a look. Well, maybe that patient wasn’t really dead … I was probably imagining it …” She didn’t know what she was saying anymore, so bef
ore Yusef could pin her down, she hurried to the bedroom. Without switching the light on she found her bag, took out her keys and groped around for the keyhole in the cupboard. Her hand was shaking and her stomach turned. No, thank God, the guns were still there. To reassure herself, she touched their long, cool barrels, the breech-blocks and heavy butts, leaning tall against the cupboard wall. She locked the cupboard door, closed the windows and doors of the parlour and went to the telephone. She asked the operator softly to connect her to Abol-Ghassem Khan’s house. She couldn’t be heard, so she had to ask a second time. Abol-Ghassem Khan himself answered at the other end. She asked whether Khosrow was there. He said no, and Hormoz wasn’t either. She could hear Abol-Ghassem Khan asking around from others in the household. Apparently Hormoz had said he was having dinner at his uncle Yusef’s house. He had said that Zari had invited him … “Now why weren’t we invited too?” Abol-Ghassem Khan complained jokingly. “Do you think we would have turned down a treat?”

  Zari’s throat constricted. She mumbled something about God willing next time, and hung up. She was terrified. Both boys had lied, so there was no doubt they were up to something. They had also taken a rope and a blanket with them. She must go and tell Yusef everything.

  As she was leaving the parlour the telephone rang. She went over and picked up the receiver. It was Abol-Ghassem Khan. He had been thinking about the boys and had become worried too. Zari pulled herself together and managed to say, “Don’t worry. I think they’ve gone off to the cinema or somewhere together. They’ll come here for dinner, it’s not too late yet. As soon as they’re here, I’ll tell them to call you.”

  She opened the doors and windows of the parlour again. She heard Mina’s voice. The children had arrived. She went out to the garden. Both children were sitting on Yusef’s lap, and he seemed a little more relaxed. Mina was saying, “Mother won’t let us. She says we’ll get all burned on our skins and we’ll have to stay inside.”

  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, i
n 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.