Mahmoud Dowlatabadi - Missing Soluch

Mergan was lying, and she was well aware of her lies. But why? How was it that she began telling these lies about Soluch? She didn’t know. Why had she been lying and saying there was word from their father? Perhaps she wanted her children to sense that he was supporting them, no matter how near or far he was. Because of this, she would think of new lies to weave before the children, and these lies spread to the ears of others all around.

“He’s sent me money. From Tehran!”

“I’ve heard he’s bought a cart, knock on wood!”

“He wants to come and take us as well. But who wants to go? He’s deluded himself to think I’ll be running after him — ha!”

After these lies, she would make a meatless stew, sprinkle some dry bran onto it, and let the smoke from the fire billow out into the alley.

“You know, my dear, why should I let my children go hungry? Now that their father’s sent money to me, I’m going to buy two seer of meat and store it for them. After all, a believer is supposed to eat meat at least every forty days or he’ll be considered an unbeliever! No, thank God I am generous with my children.”

But of everyone, at least Shamsollah the butcher knew that Mergan hadn’t bought meat from him for a very long time.

Let him know. This lie did no harm to him, or to anyone else. But at any price and in any case, Mergan didn’t want her husband to be considered lost. At least for now … come what may.

Hajer had fallen asleep. The house was filled with the sounds of sleep. Only Mergan was still awake and was looking at the door. She was quiet, and in the gaps of her children’s snoring, her silence seemed even more pronounced. She was looking outside. In the yard, snow had been piled up next to the short wall around the house. It seemed the weather was growing lighter. It seemed the clouds were lifting. The sun might even shine, soon. The snow becomes beautiful in the sunshine. And so Mergan’s expression also shone, staring at the snow, in anticipation of the sunshine. She wanted to go and find out how Mother Genav was doing. But she didn’t know why she was slow to do so. She felt lazy. The hearth was warm, the house was calm, and her daydreams were enchanting her. But as soon as she thought of Mother Genav’s health, and the path to Ali Genav’s house, she felt uneasy. Something was nipping at her calm state. She couldn’t hold out. She rose from under the blanket, put on her shoes, put her chador over her head, and was about to leave the house when Ali Genav’s broad shoulders filled the doorway. Ali Genav was knitting winter wear, as he always did as he went about his business. Wool socks, hats, scarves. He stood silently by the door and glanced at Mergan.

“I was about to go to your house. How is your mother?”

Ali Genav moved his thick and dark lips slowly, speaking with a sonorous and deep voice.

“It doesn’t look good. I don’t think she’ll make it. I want to send someone to Dah-Bidi to get a bonesetter.”

“You want someone for Raghiyeh?”

“Yeah, for Raghiyeh. My mother’s a lost cause. Raghiyeh, that foolish woman, finally ruined my life! She pestered me so much that I sent the poor old woman to live in that ruin, and in the end you see what’s happened. And I just lost my mind this morning … I beat her and destroyed her. I think she’s got three or four broken bones. Now they’re saying I need to send someone to find a bonesetter. Raghiyeh’s mother’s cousin was about to set out to go, but his mother stopped him. She says she doesn’t want her son leaving the village on a day like this. She wants someone to go with him. I thought of sending one of your sons with him — I’ll pay a good wage for it.”

Mergan said, “Abbas isn’t home, and Abrau is asleep. You know yourself …”

Ali Genav said, “They can go with my donkey. They’ll ride it there both together, and on the way back, they can have the man from Dah-Bidi ride on it. I’ll give them sticks and bats in case they run across some beast on the way.”

Mergan half-heartedly turned and looked at Abrau.

“I don’t know! Which one do you want to go?”

Ali Genav said, “Abbas is more experienced, but Abrau is more reliable. But whichever wants to go, it makes no difference to me. Whoever brings the man will get five toman from me. I need to watch the two women, otherwise I’d go myself. The weather’s becoming sunny. Coming and going can’t take more than three, four hours. If they set out now, they’ll be back before the next prayer. And these days, five toman isn’t a little bit of money, you know!”

Mergan didn’t want to wake Abrau, but she couldn’t ignore the five toman offer by Ali Genav. That money would feed her children with bread for several days. Where could a job like this be found these days? It was just luck. Something like this comes up once a year or so. So Mergan couldn’t let Ali Genav pass this task on to someone else. But which one should go? Mergan’s heart leaned toward Abbas. Abbas was stronger, bigger-boned. In addition to being smaller, Abrau had been affected by the vicissitudes of winter. Mergan was uncertain whether to allow Abrau to go out of the village on a day like this, in the middle of the snow. She was afraid he’d not be able to take care of himself. Abbas wasn’t around, though. And if he were, she would expect him not to give the household all of his pay. So Mergan remained torn.

“You won’t pay more than five tomans , Ali?”

It was Abrau, who had raised his bony head and chest from beneath the blanket. As he looked at him, Ali Genav stepped into the house.

“So you’re awake?”

Abrau pulled himself out from beneath the blankets and said, “Your voice woke me. Do I have to go alone?”

“No! Gholi Jahromi will come with you, and I’ll give you my donkey to ride on.”

Abrau said, “If you lend me your boots and your leggings, and your winter cloak, I’ll go.”

Ali Genav said, “My boots are too big for you!”

“What do you care? I’ll wrap my feet first.”

“So get up and come to my house, then. I’ll put a piece of bread for you in a bundle. Come to my house and have a tea before going.”

Ali Genav then stepped out the door and left. Abrau rose and told his mother, “I’m going to keep five qeran from the pay.”

Mergan said nothing. Abrau put on his shoes. Ali Genav’s voice could be heard from behind the wall.

“But Abrau is already putting on shoes and getting ready to go.”

Abbas responded, “What shoes? With those torn and ripped-up foot covers, you think he’s going to make it far in the snow?”

Ali Genav said, “He’s going to borrow my boots and leggings. I’ll give him a cloak to pull over his head as well.”

Abbas said, “In that case, I’d go myself!”

“I would have liked for you to go, but I already spoke to Abrau. If you go and make some arrangement with him, you can go in his place. What are you doing gathering all of these kids?”

Ali Genav was pointing to one of the Kadkhoda’s sons, the only son of Salar Abdullah, and two others of the older boys of Zaminej, who were standing with Abbas.

“They can go home! They don’t have to play! I’ll go and bring back that doctor even if he’s in the Black Hills! But how does that pip-squeak brother of mine think he’s going to convince that old opium addict to leave his hearth in this snow to come all the way here?”

Abrau had by now come out to the alley and was standing by his mother. He said, “You’ll see when I bring him here! Let’s go, Ali, sir!”

Abrau set off, but Ali Genav remained behind. He had sensed a game in the offing. He looked at the kids and said, “Are you playing bajal or cards?”