Mahmoud Dowlatabadi - Missing Soluch

Mergan rose and said, “There is no remainder, Kadkhoda. I can’t go on having to look away when I happen to cross paths with someone who claims I’m in his debt! Either take these copper pieces and settle the business, or I’ll stop you from trying to take even a cup from this house. Blood will have to flow!”

“That’s enough from you. Don’t shout yourself hoarse with all that.”

“Enough is enough. Just don’t leave me at the mercy of every nobody who’s around. But I’ll leave the rest to you.”

The Kadkhoda looked at Salar Abdullah and said, “So, what do you say?”

Salar stooped and gathered the pieces and then shot a hurt and angry glance at Mergan, saying, “Oh, I’ll have the rest. You’ll see!”

Mergan grabbed Salar’s hands and said, “There is no more. Do you understand? Either we are even, or you leave these behind.”

The Kadkhoda separated Mergan from Salar’s hands and said, “Get going, Salar. Get a move on, you! Soluch isn’t dead. Who knows, he might return.”

Salar cradled the copper work and exited by the door. Then Kadkhoda Norouz released Mergan, picked up his overcoat that had fallen to the floor, and left, following Salar Abdullah. Mergan sat on the ground.

From inside the doorway of the stable, Abbas was taking in the sight of Salar Abdullah and Kadkhoda Norouz leaving. After eavesdropping on what they were saying as they walked by the wall, he quietly slipped out the door. The possibility of Salar’s return frightened him. So from the edge of the wall his eyes followed the two men as they left down the alley, before he quietly entered the room. He found Mergan in tears. Hajer was frightened and cowering in a corner silently. Abrau was still lost under the blankets, more or less still moaning as before.

Abbas kneeled by the stove and said, “Mama, where did you hide the copper?”

Mergan, whose frustration had been building up inside her, shouted, “In hell! What are you starting up for now? Let me die in peace!”

Abbas kept at the subject, saying, “I heard everything. You’ve hidden the copper somewhere.”

Mergan was about to launch into an argument when she instead wiped her nose with the edge of her scarf and asked, “When did you get back that I didn’t notice? So where’s the bread? I thought you were taking your bundle of wood to the baker, weren’t you?”

Abbas answered, “The bastard didn’t take it. He doesn’t want any more tonight. And what he needs tomorrow he’ll only buy tomorrow. I nearly killed myself bringing the load back to the house!”

Mergan suddenly thought of something.

“Did their bread oven still have embers burning?”

“I don’t know. They’d already shut the door of their house.”

Mergan hurried, taking a tin container from beside the stove. Abbas grabbed his mother’s wrist.

“You still didn’t say where you hid the copper? What are you hiding? What were you thinking? That I’d be fooled? That copper belongs to me, too. It’s not all just yours!”

Mergan pulled her hand from her son and said, “You’d better shut your mouth, you. So now you think you’ve become a grown-up for me! Let’s wait till your piss froths, then I’ll let you puff out your chest a bit!

However it was, and from wherever she could get it, Mergan needed to bring embers back to the house. For this reason, she couldn’t wait around and argue with her son. She grabbed the edge of the tin and rushed out of the door like a wolf. Abbas, stung by his mother’s treatment, felt he was weak, a nothing. Such a nothing that he wasn’t even worth fighting with; exactly the sort of sentiment that no young man can bear. The fact that he didn’t have facial hair yet was acceptable, as long as he was taken seriously, treated like a person, like a man. Mergan, in the state she was in, had no chance to perceive the nuance of this. So Abbas was left to bemoan his mother’s insult. An insult, no matter how off-handed. He wished for the day that he could take a place above his mother. To be the master. But this was not all. Someday …? When? Where to find the patience to wait for that day? Now. He had to make up for his humiliation right now. If no one had been there, then that would have been different. But this had happened in front of his little sister. So, just as Hajer was staring at him, he glared back at her.

“What? What are you looking at? You’ve never seen a human?”

Hajer looked away.

Abbas said, “Very well! So if you don’t want me to make you pay for it, tell me, where did you go with Mama today?”

Hajer replied quietly, “We went to get some sun.”

“What else? After that?”

“After? After …”

“Stop hemming and hawing! Speak up. Where did you hide the copper?”

Hajer began to cry, half from fright and half on purpose.

“I swear … I don’t know. I wasn’t there, I swear! I swear on my father’s grave!”

“Watch what you’re saying, you! Has our father died for you to be swearing on his grave?”

Hajer began to sob, saying, “Mama said. She said today he was dead!”

“She’s talking out the side of her mouth! Dead? Ha! Just wait till she comes back. I’ll show her how dead our father is. She’ll see!”

Hajer let out a cry. But Abbas wasn’t so weakhearted as to let her off so easily.

“Fine. Let’s forget about this. Let’s imagine our father’s dead. Tell me, where did you two hide the copper work?”

Hajer again evaded the question and set to stalling. Abbas began removing his belt and rose.

“So, are you going to talk, or do I need to make you?”

Hajer slid to the corner of the room. Abbas pursued her, stood before her, and cracked his belt against the floor.

“Get up! Start talking! Or do you want me to make you black-and-blue with this belt?”

Hajer shut her eyes and lifted her small hands to protect her face, still crying. Abbas bellowed, “I swear to Imam Abbas I’ll make you sorry! Have some mercy on your own skin and bones and start speaking!”

Hajer just kept crying. She was crying from her heart. Not only from fear, but from everything. Everything she’d seen and heard weighed upon her heart, and since she had no other way of relieving herself, she could only cry and cry. And perhaps if Abbas hadn’t also jumped on her, she would have still had plenty to cry about. But now that Abbas had set into her, her tears flowed from her heart. It was like a boil ready to be lanced, as if it were ready to burst. She had to cry, so as to loosen the knot around her heart. Even if she did not want to, she had to. These tears were ready to flow. These tears only made Abbas angrier, these tears and her locked lips. And the suspicion that Hajer was hiding something beneath her tears only made him angrier. He began to lose control. Perhaps he was looking for an excuse as well. He raised the belt above his head and brought it down. Hajer flickered like a lantern. Abbas showed no mercy. He brought it down again. And again.

The sound of the belt falling on Hajer’s body brought Abrau around. He opened his eyes with difficulty and saw his sister backed into a corner while Abbas’ merciless blows fell upon her. He leapt up, throwing aside the blanket. He did it unselfconsciously. Still hot with fever. From behind, he was able to throw his hands around Abbas’ throat and pull him back. They both fell over backward. Hajer ran. She escaped through the door shrieking. But she didn’t go far. A moment later, she returned to watch her brothers grappling from the doorway. Like a mongoose and a snake. They twisted and struggled in the dust. Hajer didn’t dare come closer. With one movement, Abbas was able to release himself from Abrau’s grip and to position himself on his chest. Now he placed his hands around Abrau’s throat.