Mahmoud Dowlatabadi - Missing Soluch

Abbas said, “Well, to each his own. In any case, Mirza Hassan and his partners are some twenty or thirty years younger than Karbalai Doshanbeh. Some of them have seen other towns and cities. Mirza himself has been in contact with all sorts. He’s even had relations with Arabs and other foreigners. These all make a difference.”

“In any case, I think you have to pursue some kind of work that has a future. Not camel herding. Can you think of anyone here in Zaminej who’s made a living from that?”

“No.”

“So? And you want to spend your life with that work?”

“But what choice do I have?”

“You have a choice! Leave! Follow the other guys and leave here! Just do whatever they do. At least you’re healthy; you can go and see the world, which is a good thing, in and of itself. If all I had to do was to work at the baths, I’d leave in an instant.”

“I can’t imagine leaving Zaminej, though. The idea of traveling is in my head all the time. But I don’t have the heart to. But … let’s see what happens. We’ll see!”

Abbas didn’t want to pursue the topic any further. Despite the fact that he didn’t give much weight to Abrau’s arguments, they did nonetheless prick at his heart. They didn’t affect the roots of his convictions, but they shook their branches and leaves. They made him feel ambivalent and frustrated. They didn’t change his path, but they bothered him all the same. So he didn’t want to hear any more. He changed the topic.

“Why not head over to Auntie Sanam’s house? I’ll bet you there’s a round of gambling going on there. Mirza Habib’s made all the poor beggars into rich men.”

Abrau said, “I’m not going to throw my money away on gambling. I want to buy some clothes for myself.”

Abbas said, “Let’s go anyway. You might end up changing your mind!”

“No, you go on your own.”

“Come on, let’s go as partners.”

“No! I don’t want to waste my money.”

“Then at least come and sit by me as I play. You’ll bring me good luck.”

“No! I don’t want to set foot in that place. I’ll be touched by the devil if I go.”

“Fine, let’s just stop by there for a minute. Let’s go and see if Morad is leaving tomorrow after all?”

As soon as he opened the door, Morad’s wide and bony face broke into a wide smile. He presumed the brothers had come to say that they were joining him on his trip.

“Great. Welcome. Come in.”

As they entered, Abbas asked, “Is there anyone else here?”

Morad said, “No! It’s quiet here tonight. Ghazi’s gone to sleep.”

“You mean no one came by tonight?”

Morad laughed. “You’re a real gambler, aren’t you? You think all the guys who are planning to leave to go far away tomorrow are going to come to lose their travel money gambling?”

“So no one’s …?”

“Two of the usual vultures did stop by with the same hopes, but they were disappointed. They stayed around and are hanging out inside right now.”

“No doubt Ghasem Leng and Habib Kahi, eh?”

“Good for you. So you know your opponents well! They’re still hungry. Ghasem Leng can’t stop dealing himself hands from a deck of cards. If your money’s burning a hole in your pocket, go ahead! They’re just waiting for someone to come by!”

Abrau grabbed his brother’s sleeve.

“Don’t go! These guys will win the shirt off of your back!”

Abbas shifted his feet. Then he slid to the safety of the wall and, glancing at Abrau and Morad, slipped his hands into his pockets.

Morad said, “I know Abbas would be hopeless working with us, but I hope you’re coming!”

Abrau said, “I’ve just arranged for some work right here. It’s good work, too. Imagine! Working on a tractor, watching its iron blade cutting right into the earth! The same land that just last year we would slave away working on all day with just a pair of bulls. Or, if only they were bulls! No, donkeys! It’s really exciting, don’t you think?”

“It’s exciting, but only if you have some claim on the land and the tractor.”

“Of course, it’s better if it’s your own property. But it’s exciting as it is. Have you ever heard the sound it makes? God! It sounds like a marching army, drowned in iron and steel. Its vrroomm vrroomm just makes your heart race! You know, if there were enough land and water, with ten of these tractors braying as they run down the valley, this whole place would be a heaven in two or three years!”

Morad said, “May its owner benefit from it! Is it true, as they say, that each tractor can do the work of a hundred men?”

“What’s a hundred? The tractor they’re bringing here has the power of one hundred and twenty horses . And you know, it’s not even a big one.”

Morad asked, “Where do they make these creatures?”

Abrau hesitated. He’d never thought about this before.

“And how much does it cost? It must need a pile of money from here to heaven!”

Abrau hadn’t thought of this either.

“No doubt, they’ll have to raise the money for these from the land itself, no? Just like the money from our own hard work goes in you-know-who’s pocket!”

Abbas came over. He had an artificial smile, as if to hide something. Morad and Abrau were sitting in the alley, just by the doorway. The gate into Sanam’s home was open; from there, three steps led down into a low yard. The building comprised a living room and a storage room. The living room was where Sanam served opium, and the storage room was used for gambling. Generally, Ghazi oversaw the storage room. The door into the room was half open and a thin, weak light shone from inside. Abbas set foot on the steps and said, “Let’s go see how Auntie Sanam is doing!”

Morad and Abrau looked at one another. They both knew Abbas too well. There was no way to stop him. If Abbas began gambling, he’d be there until the morning. There was no point in trying to discuss it with him; it would only fall on deaf ears. Once he’d decided to join a game, he couldn’t be dissuaded.

Morad said, “So far, there are a few of us interested in heading toward Shahrud, and some are going to go from Shahrud to Gonbad. Others will go toward Veramin. We might even try going to the capitol. We’ll just go and see what it’s about! If we can’t own the world, at least let us see it!”

Abrau replied, “I also really want to see the capitol. Really! I swear on both of our lives, if this tractor hadn’t shown up like this, and if my only option was to keep working in Ali Genav’s bathhouse, I’d leave in a moment.”

On hearing Ali Genav’s name, Morad remained silent for a moment. Then, as he rose, he beat the dust out from the back of his pants.

“I hear they’re going shopping tomorrow?”

Abrau swallowed his embarrassment and replied, “I don’t know … So I’ll see you by the roadside tomorrow?”

“Ah … who knows!”

Morad yawned and stepped inside the doorway. Abrau said, “Promise me you’ll keep an eye on Abbas! I’m afraid these two vultures will skin him tonight.”

Morad closed the door and said, “He’s on his own! I’m sleepy.”

The door shut on Morad’s yawn. Then, silence filled the alley. Silence smothered the walls. Abrau was alone in the alley. He knew his brother would be in Sanam’s house for a long time. He set out alone, walking close to the wall. He felt the waistband of his pants again and checked the money he’d hidden there. He wanted to go to Zabihollah’s house to see Mirza Hassan and Salar Abdullah. But he didn’t have the will to. What would be the point of sitting in doorway listening to Mirza Hassan speaking? Everyone knew that he was an eloquent, witty speaker. Abrau knew this from before, but it was a new sensation to have a desire to go and sit and listen to him speak. When Mirza began describing the gambling houses and brothels of the town, his stories were pleasant enough. But what Abrau enjoyed most was when he began speaking about pistachio farming with tractors and irrigation with deep wells. Abrau’s eyes would be full of fascination mixed with excitement and his mouth would drop open. Mirza Hassan’s descriptions illustrated something that seemed like heaven to Abrau. All of Abrau’s dreams and hopes were realized in what Mirza Hassan would describe. But in any case, Abrau, only being a poor boy, couldn’t just go to visit Mirza Hassan in the middle of the night without some kind of reason.