Moon at Nine

by Deborah Ellis

  ‘Before you signed the confession, you were going to be hanged for noncooperation,’ the man said. ‘Now that you have confessed, you will be hung for your crime. That is all.’

  Farrin shouted her objections all the way down the hallways as she was hauled off and thrown into another cell. The door slammed behind her.

  She was alone.

  At least this time there were no dead bodies in there with her.

  TWENTY

  ‘YOU HAVE A visitor.’

  The guard gave Farrin a gentle nudge with her foot to wake her up.

  ‘A visitor?’

  ‘On your feet. Unless you don’t want to see anyone.’

  Farrin stood up. ‘Who is visiting me? Is it one of my parents? Which one?’ Strangely, she hoped the visitor was her mother. Her father had been kinder to her all her life, but her mother was fierce. If anyone could get her out, it would be her mother.

  Naturally there was no answer.

  The guard took her to a room with a few tables and chairs. Farrin looked around for her parents. They were not there.

  The only person in the room was a woman in a black chador. Her back was to the door. Then she turned around.

  It was Principal Kobra.

  Farrin blinked several times, trying to understand what she saw.

  Farrin sat down uneasily across from her principal. It seemed as if years had passed since she was a student.

  ‘How are you?’ Principal Kobra asked.

  ‘I can’t believe you’re here.’

  ‘Why can’t you believe it?’ Principal Kobra asked. ‘I’ll tell you why. Because you have a closed mind. You put people into a certain category and then you never bother to investigate whether or not you have made a mistake.’

  Farrin was confused. Had her principal come all this way just to lecture her? Did it mean that much to her to make Farrin feel worse?

  ‘How are you?’ the principal asked again.

  ‘I’m scared.’

  ‘I suppose you are.’

  Principal Kobra seemed uncomfortable. You should be, Farrin thought. You are old and you are going to walk out of here and live your life. I am young and I will die horribly – all because of that government you are so fond of. But she said none of that. There seemed no point to arguing anymore.

  ‘Is there any news of my parents?’ she asked instead, not really expecting there would be.

  ‘Your parents have left the country,’ Principal Kobra said. ‘They bribed the guards and left without answering for their crimes.’

  ‘They left me behind?’

  ‘It would seem so.’

  ‘What about – what about Sadira?’

  ‘Sadira is also here.’

  ‘Will you be able to see her?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ said Principal Kobra. She seemed bewildered. ‘It was harder than I thought it would be to get permission to see you. Things here seem … chaotic.’

  Farrin had no sympathy for the woman. ‘What did you expect it to be like?’

  Principal Kobra shook her head. ‘There is that closed mind again. You see me as cold and severe, and that’s all you see. Unfortunately, you are not the first student I have visited here.’

  ‘Do you want me to thank you? Do you know that they are going to kill us?’

  Principal Kobra slowly nodded.

  ‘Can you help us?’ Farrin asked. ‘Can you keep them from hanging us?’

  Principal Kobra looked into Farrin’s eyes. ‘I have never lied to a student and I will not lie to you now. You must accept your fate. I came to tell you that you have a good mind and a good heart. In spite of everything, I am glad you were a student at my school. I came to tell you this, and to give you what comfort I could.’

  Principal Kobra lifted a bag and placed it on the table.

  ‘I brought you a blanket,’ she said, opening the bag. ‘The guards said I could give it to you. I know those cells are cold.’

  Farrin was about to thank her and reach for the blanket when she suddenly had a thought. She looked under the table. There was no other bag.

  Principal Kobra had brought only one blanket.

  ‘Give it to Sadira,’ Farrin said.

  ‘Farrin, I don’t know if I will be able to see Sadira. It was hard enough to see you.’

  ‘I can’t be warm if I think she’s cold!’ Farrin exclaimed, her eyes filling with tears. ‘How could you think I would be warm if Sadira is cold?’

  ‘Farrin – ’

  ‘I love her,’ Farrin sobbed. ‘You don’t understand! We just want to be together. We don’t want to die!’

  She put her head on her arms and wept.

  Principal Kobra put a hand on Farrin’s head.

  ‘I am one hundred percent behind the revolution,’ she said. ‘I was there at the beginning of it and I will defend it all my life. But in my revolution, we do not execute children. I am sorry that this is happening to you.’

  Farrin raised her head and wiped her tears on her sleeves. She pushed the blanket across the table.

  ‘While you are defending the revolution,’ she said, ‘take this blanket to Sadira.’

  And then the guard stepped forward. Their time was up.

  Principal Kobra embraced Farrin.

  Farrin clung to the woman. It didn’t matter that she was still angry with her old principal. Farrin needed to be hugged, and there was no one else.

  ‘I will get the blanket to Sadira,’ the principal said. ‘I will tell her that it is from you, and that you want her to be warm.’

  ‘Thank you,’ whispered Farrin.

  Principal Kobra tightened her embrace. ‘Rest easy, my child. When the hard part comes, think of the poems that have given you the greatest joy. Think of happy times and of those you love. Carry those good thoughts with you as you leave this world.’

  ‘If you can get word to my parents, will you tell them that I’m sorry?’

  Principal Kobra looked into Farrin’s eyes. ‘Are you?’

  Farrin thought of Sadira and how precious their time had been. ‘No,’ she admitted.

  ‘That’s my good student,’ Principal Kobra whispered to her. ‘Truth is always the most important thing, even when it leads us into dark places.’

  The guard pulled Farrin away and took her back to her cell.

  She did not know how much time she had left. She wrapped her arms around herself and thought about Sadira – wrapped in the blanket and feeling warm and loved.

  For two more days she kept the vision in her head as she shivered in her cell.

  On the third day, a guard came for her.

  It was time to die.

  TWENTY-ONE

  ‘WILL SOMEONE COME to claim your body?’ the guard said.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Your body. What are we supposed to do with your body after we take it down from the scaffold?’

  Farrin had not eaten since her arrest. She was exhausted, chilled to the bone and so terrified of what was about to happen that she could not think. She had no answer for the guard.

  ‘Another one for the field, then,’ the guard said. ‘As long as I don’t have to be the one digging. Sometimes we make the prisoners dig their own graves, but they dawdle and take all day. Fine with me when the weather is good. But we’re just so backed up. These days, get a bit off schedule and you’re working around the clock just to get caught up. What about a shroud?’

  ‘What?’

  It was as much as Farrin could get out.

  ‘Don’t tell me you don’t have a shroud, either? Your family is going to be charged for that if we have to provide one. I don’t know how the front office staff spends their time. They certainly don’t spend it taking care of the most basic details. Well, we can worry about the shroud later. First, let’s get you hung.’

  Farrin stumbled along beside her guard as the woman chatted casually.

  ‘A lot of people, when they get to this stage, are actually happy to have it all over,’ the guard said. ‘I think
the worrying and the waiting must be terrible. Sometimes people are arrested and they are executed within the hour. Better to be kind like that, I figure. Other guards disagree with me. They say that when citizens are made to suffer, they learn obedience. It makes them better members of society. But if we are going to kill them anyway, what is the point of all that extra suffering? It certainly messes up the floors, let me tell you!’

  The guard sounded as if what was about to happen was nothing out of the ordinary. Farrin realized that, to the guard, it was a routine. Just a regular day for her.

  Get up, put on your uniform, have breakfast, go to work, escort women to their death, go home, have supper, go to bed.

  ‘Guard, would you come over here for a second?’ Farrin heard someone call.

  ‘I’m on my way to make a delivery,’ the guard said.

  ‘Let someone else do it. There are forms you need to fill out in order to receive your pay.’

  ‘I filled those out already.’

  ‘Well, apparently you didn’t do them right, because you have to fill them out again. Just come and do it now, okay? Then I can get my filing done.’

  ‘All right.’ She propped Farrin up against a wall. ‘Stay here.’

  Farrin’s hands were bound and her blindfold was tight. If she took a few steps she would probably fall. It could be worth it, though, she thought. I might get away.

  She was about to try when someone else took her elbow.

  ‘I’ll take the prisoner up,’ a male guard said. ‘After you finish the forms, why not take your break?’

  ‘Fine with me,’ the woman guard said.

  Farrin walked alongside the male guard. She was relieved to get away from the woman’s inane chatter. If this was going to be the last few moments of her life, she wanted a little peace. She wanted to think about Sadira. She wanted to remember being happy.

  ‘Do not react in any way,’ the guard said quietly. ‘I have been hired by your father to get you out, but you must do exactly as I say, when I say it. Do you understand?’

  Farrin’s heart jumped. Her parents had not abandoned her!

  ‘What about Sadira?’ she asked.

  ‘Already taken care of,’ the guard told her. ‘Your father said you would refuse to leave without her, so we got her out yesterday. But they are on the alert today, so this will be difficult. Quiet now. People are approaching.’

  Farrin listened intently, waiting for a signal to come. The guard exchanged pleasantries with some other guards. Gunshots sounded a little ways off.

  ‘That’s just the firing squad,’ the guard said as he pulled her along again. ‘Get ready.’

  He changed direction abruptly, walking very fast. Farrin kept pace beside him. Suddenly she was lifted off the ground and into the back of a truck. She was buried under a mound of stinking clothes.

  She felt the truck start up. She could feel it drive forward, stop, start again, stop, start again, then turn and pick up speed.

  We’re on the highway, she thought. We’re out of Evin Prison.

  The truck had turned left instead of right. They were going north, away from Tehran.

  We’re heading into the mountains, Farrin thought. We’re heading for the sea.

  She stayed quiet and still as the drive went on. She didn’t care about the cramps in her shoulders or the stink that surrounded her. Whatever was ahead was infinitely better than what lay behind.

  A long time passed. The truck stopped once to refuel, then they were back on the road. It wasn’t until nightfall that the driver pulled off the highway and came to a stop.

  Farrin heard him get out of the cab of the truck and come around to the back.

  ‘Farrin? Are you all right?’

  The stinking clothes were pulled away. Farrin looked up. It was Ahmad.

  ‘Your father bribed some of the guards,’ he said. ‘We’re going to get you out of Iran. Your parents have already left the country.’

  ‘What about Sadira?’

  ‘We got Sadira out first,’ Ahmad said. ‘She will be waiting for you when we cross the border.’ He helped her sit up and gave her water and some food.

  ‘We need to keep moving. Are you okay back here for a while longer?’

  Of course she was. Farrin crawled back under the pile of clothes and Ahmad started driving again. She wiggled around in the pile so that she was able to clear some more space around her face. The night air was cool and fresh.

  She was stunned. One minute she was about to die, and the next minute she had a chance to live. To be with Sadira! The back of the truck was all closed up and Farrin was in total darkness, but she knew that she was moving away from death and toward freedom.

  The road was bumpy. Ahmad was probably staying off the main highways in hopes of avoiding the checkpoints.

  Farrin couldn’t see it, but she knew the moon was out there. She knew that Sadira was somewhere safe, under their moon, waiting for her.

  I can’t wait, Farrin thought. I can’t wait to see her. Oh, I was so wrong about my parents! When I see them again I will apologize and completely mean it. Even though Sadira will be by my side, I will be the sort of daughter they can be proud of. I will do anything they ask – even join their Bring Back the Shah campaign if they want me to!

  Although the road was rough, the pile of clothes cushioned her. Farrin told herself she was too excited to sleep – she needed to stay awake so she would be ready for whatever was next. But she was exhausted, and the truck’s rocking motion finally sent her to sleep. For the rest of the night and into the next morning, Farrin slept deeply, without dreams.

  TWENTY-TWO

  FARRIN WAS STARTLED awake by a sudden flood of light. Someone had opened the back of the truck.

  She had the presence of mind to hold still. Her face was hidden enough, she hoped. If someone was doing a quick inspection, they might not notice she was there.

  ‘We need to change cars,’ Ahmad said. ‘You must get up. Be quick.’

  Farrin was quick. On wobbly legs she got down from the truck.

  ‘Put this on,’ Ahmad instructed her, handing her a blue Afghan burqa. It was different from the black Iranian chador. The chador still allowed a woman’s face to show. The burqa was like a tent, covering everything, including her face. A small cloth screen across her eyes was just open enough to see through.

  It was a full, awkward garment and she had never worn anything like it. She struggled to figure out how to put it on.

  ‘Hurry!’ Ahmad said. ‘Put it on!’

  Instinctively, she was about to remind him that he was a servant and she was the boss’s daughter, but instead she thought better of it and held her tongue. She managed to get the burqa on and followed Ahmad to a small car parked beside the truck.

  ‘Whose car is this?’ she asked.

  ‘This is all part of the arrangement made by your father,’ Ahmad said. ‘It is good to change cars, in case we are being followed. And now we have a full tank of gas. We need to keep driving.’

  ‘Can I take this off while we are in the car?’

  ‘Leave it on.’

  Farrin left it. What did it matter? They were heading down a highway again, moving ever closer to Sadira. Farrin did not care what she wore. The burqa made a good disguise. As long as no one looked under it, she could be anybody.

  If she rewrote her demon-hunting story again, maybe the hunters should wear burqas. She wasn’t sure if there had ever been a burqa-wearing woman solving mysteries in a story before.

  On the seat next to her were bread and a bottle of warm orange soda. It was a bit of a challenge to eat while wearing the awkward garment, but Farrin managed.

  ‘Where are we?’ she asked. ‘I thought we were heading to the Caspian Sea.’

  ‘We are going to Pakistan,’ Ahmad said. ‘That is the best way. It is too dangerous to go through Turkey. The border is more open in Pakistan. By that, I mean that there are more places to cross into Pakistan that are not properly protected by border guards.’<
br />
  ‘Is that where Sadira is waiting?’

  ‘You have no reason to worry about Sadira,’ Ahmad said. ‘Sadira is safe now. Now, be quiet. We are coming to a checkpoint.’

  Revolutionary Guards had set up a checkpoint across the highway. Through the screen over her eyes, Farrin could see men and women with guns, stopping cars and examining identification papers.

  ‘You will let me talk, and if they ask you questions, you will agree with whatever I say,’ Ahmad said. ‘Keep your eyes on the floor of the car. Do not look up. They will wonder why you are so curious. Do you understand?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Farrin.

  It was their turn. Ahmad rolled down the window and presented his papers.

  Farrin kept her eyes on the floor. She heard the guard fan out the papers as he looked them over.

  ‘Afghan?’ the guard said.

  ‘Yes,’ said Ahmad.

  ‘Papers for her?’

  ‘She is my wife,’ said Ahmad. He reached in front of Farrin and into the glove compartment of the car. She could see his hand take out something. ‘Here is our marriage paper.’

  The guard took his time looking at it. ‘What are you doing on the road?’

  ‘I was in Mashhad. I heard that someone was hiring Afghans for construction. But when I arrived, all the jobs had been taken.’

  The guard considered this a little longer, then he handed back the papers and waved them along.

  Farrin waited until they were well away from the checkpoint before she asked, ‘Where did you get those papers?’

  ‘Your father knows the right people,’ he replied. ‘I don’t know who they are. They make up certificates.’

  ‘So it’s all fake, then.’

  ‘I am just your father’s servant,’ Ahmad said.

  They kept driving. Farrin asked about Sadira a few more times, but Ahmad had nothing more to say. She struggled to stay awake. The heat in the car and the lack of fresh air under the burqa made it difficult to remain alert. In spite of her best efforts, she dozed off more than once. Each time she surfaced, she came to with a start.