Deadly Ties

by Aaron Ben-Shahar

  Mehdi, clad in his Revolutionary Guard uniform, walked behind his parents and his grandmother, along with his brother Bahiz and their two sisters. He was surrounded by his bodyguards, some in uniform and some in plainclothes, merging with the crowd. Mehdi’s face was blank, masking the terrible pain inside. His eyes beamed decisiveness and determination. The huge crowd of mourners looked upon him with great admiration as befitting a famous commander, one of Tabriz’s finest men.

  Chapter Fourteen

  The Mohammadi home was situated in Tabriz’s magnificent boulevard, which was renamed ‘Imam Khomeini Boulevard’ after the Islamic revolution. The family home was one of the city’s finest, a testament to their longstanding wealth and prosperity. Their residence, which actually resembled a palace, was big enough for the entire family. Ali and Bahiz each had their own independent apartments, where they lived with their wives and children. Suha, Ali’s widow, continued to live there along with their three children. Bahiz and Mehdi’s two sisters each had her own room and her own enclosed space, in expectancy of their husbands to come. Suheila, the matriarch, had her own separate apartment within the family residence, right next to the living room.

  The family’s day to day life revolved primarily around the spacious living room, the large kitchen and the adjacent dining room, where, right at the center, stood a mahogany table with eighteen matching chairs. Beside it stood a smaller dining table, for those occasions when fewer members attended supper.

  The living room floor consisted of marble tiles connected by strips of triangular and square mosaic in blue and gold. Most of it was covered in the most marvelous carpets, the handiwork of generations of Mohammadi weavers. Thick crimson curtains with golden tassels covered the windows, complimenting the gilded chandelier that hang from the high ceiling

  Both parts of the living room featured a sideboard with antique silverware, the work of generations of Persian craftsman, along with ancient ceramic and earthenware brought all the way from Uzbekistan, Armenia and other Asian countries. The northern cabinet had a golden goblet right at the center, atop an ivory stand. It was adorned with the designs of all sorts of animals. Family legend told that a Persian artisan had produced it two centuries earlier. Opposite, on the southern sideboard, stood, in all its glory, a golden goblet with two-headed figures, a gift from one of Persia’s rulers to the chief of the Mohammadis back in the 18th century, in honor of filling the ruler’s place with carpets that were especially woven for the royal household.

  A three-legged Carrara marble table stood at the center of the family living room. Its legs were gilded, to match the red padding crossed by golden stripes of the armchairs and to match the curtains, as well.

  The entire family was sitting on the armchairs, their faces somber, and sunken eyes bespeaking their lack of sleep. Seven days had passed since Ali died in the fire that wiped out the khana, but they were all still shocked and despondent.

  “So, what do we do?” Suleiman, still head of the family, began their sad gathering.

  Mehdi’s absence was inescapable. Shortly after ali’s funeral, he told his father he had to leave on urgent business. They didn’t have to say another word. Suleiman knew how special the relations between Ali and Mehdi were, so he knew for sure that no other business could possibly force Mehdi to leave at a time like this except for something to do with Ali’s death.

  Fatimah Mohammadi, who seldom spoke, was the first to respond. The whole family marveled at the courage this newly bereaved mother showed and the determination her words attested to. “For seven days and seven nights Suleiman and I have wept for Ali. I remember his difficult, 24-hour birth. I told myself then and there that he was born under such pain, he would bring great joy into the world, and so it was. He brought us nothing but pride and joy, and all this is over and done now. We shall weep for Ali for the remainder of our lives, and we shall always see him before our eyes, but life goes on. Suha, Ali’s dear wife, sitting here with us, and her three children, our grandchildren, light of our lives, you ought to know that Ali would have wished to see you continue with your lives, cherish, cultivate and preserve your wonderful family.”

  The widow, Suha, the small children and everyone else in the family wailed at what Fatimah had just said. Suleiman too, whose tears had seemed to have run dry by now, wiped his eyes on the white tablecloth.

  “I would like to take this opportunity,” Fatimah continued, “and tell you about the other families this fire impacted. Twelve people were taken to hospital, mostly due to smoke inhalation and injuries, except for one woman whose injuries were severe. They were all released from the hospital by now. Let me tell you, it could have been a lot worse.”

  Heavy silence and darkness descended on the room as each person there succumbed to his or her own sadness and private thoughts. Bahiz, who, now that Ali had died had become the eldest, was the first to break the silence. “We have no choice but to continue in Ali’s footsteps, for his honor, in his memory and for the family,” he said. “I would like to report that the insurance assessors came by earlier, and that, following their visit, the insurance company informed me the business was under-insured. Consequently, what they are willing to pay us in damages is not worth twenty percent of the estimated cost of rebuilding our khana. I am not even talking about the carpets that burnt, they weren’t even insured. Luckily for us, most of our carpets were not stored there but in our external warehouse,” he concluded.

  Suleiman woke from his musings. “I would like to tell you all I’ve been getting messages and calls promising us assistance and aid. All sorts of people and institutions are reaching out to us. For instance, a friend of mine, Mazay, offered us his own space at the bazaar for two whole years at a reduced cost. Thing is, we do not have enough funds to rebuild and buy new machinery. What’s disappointing the most, is that we received no response, no offer of assistance, from either the government or the city. I’m afraid that if we decide to rebuild and buy new machinery, supplies and so on, we’ll have to sell some valuable assets in order to afford going back to business as before.” He looked sadly around the lavish interior of his home.

  The Mohammadis continued its lamentations as darkness crept in from the outside. No one rose to turn on the light or fill a plate from their packed dining table, which the family’s cooks kept filling with dishes. “Troubles and appetite seldom mix,” as the old saying goes.

  Suheila finally broke the silence. “Come on, rise up, dears, trust Allah, and his salvation will not fail to come soon. All these years, our family went through its share of ordeals, from the great earthquake and the infidels’ invasions, to the terrible plague that nearly wiped out the entire family. Thanks be blessed Allah, we have survived so much and withstood it all. We must have faith in God and in ourselves, and in this way, we shall come out of this stronger than ever.”

  After a short pause, the old matriarch added, “Know this, the Lord has given us the good as well as the bad. Why? Why would he bestow both? For if he had only done good for us, how would we know how to cope with the bad, should it arrive? God gave us bad news too, so that we’d always remember that after the bad occurrences, we also get the good. Come, let us all show Ali his death was not in vain, that we have sworn to follow his lead.”

  They could all tell how difficult it was for Suheila to speak out loud. She bowed her head and closed her eyes. However painful, her words nevertheless made an almost miraculous impact on the entire family. Everyone held their head high, rose up, shoulders straightened, eyes fully opened, and lo and behold, the main door flung open, and the house filled with light.

  It was Mehdi, standing at the front door.

  He quickly looked round the room and saw the astonishment in everyone’s eyes as he ran over to Suheila. Bending his knees, he kneeled before her and kissed her hands. She laid her hands over his head. “Bismillah, may God bless you,” she whispered, her eyes filling with tears.

  Mehd
i ran over to hug his mother, whereupon he gave in to his father’s embrace and shook hands with Bahiz firmly and proceeded to hug his excited sisters.

  “You came just in time,” Suleiman told him. “We were getting desperate.”

  “Did you really think I would leave you hanging?” Mehdi replied. “I had to go for the sake of a sacred cause, namely, to arrange the revenge for Ali’s murder. Now that things are getting back on track, I am back, ready to lend my support to my beloved family and gain strength from you all.” Everyone smiled again, for the first time that week. “Can I get some food around here?” he joked. “I haven’t had a bite in two whole days. Besides, good food ushers in good news, too.”

  It was as though the maids had waited for this particular moment all along. The moment Mehdi came in, they began heating all the food and proceeded to lay everything on the great dining table, which once again united the whole family. As they haven’t eaten since that morning, they suddenly remembered how hungry they were. After they dined, they returned to the spacious hall and sat on their big armchairs again, had sweet tea and helped themselves to some more delicious homemade food.

  “I’ve come to share the following news with you,” Mehdi resumed his update. “The Revolutionary Guard has sent its very best police investigators to uncover the reasons for the fire. Their inquiry came to the conclusion that this was a planned arson. They tracked down several places where it was started on purpose, so they concluded it must have been the product of several men working simultaneously. I know who’s behind it. However, I can say nothing more. I promise you all that the perpetrators will pay dearly for what they’ve done.”

  He paused for the short gasps he heard around him. “Another thing I would like to tell you is that our esteemed president has decreed that our family be compensated in full for all the damages, including a full reimbursement for rebuilding our khana. They will also foot all the bills for restocking and for purchasing new equipment and machinery. What’s more, they will compensate us for all the carpets and make up for the earnings we would have lost for the next three years.”

  “What did I tell you all?” Suheila commented. “God has delivered us, in the flicker of an eye.”

  Part Three

  Chapter Fifteen

  Darkness descended upon him. The world was gone. When he came to, Bonnie found himself lying in bed in his own bedroom, still in his clothes, his shoes on, covered up to his neck in a grey woolen blanket, although the sun was out, as it was about noon.

  ‘How did I get here? I remember the letter I opened by the dim light of the night lamp, while sitting on my favorite chair. But then, it was like a hammer hit me on the head.’ Bonnie recalled his legs getting too heavy to carry him; he had felt his back was on the verge of cracking, until he had managed to sit himself down with great effort. He relived the moment; he felt he could barely take his shirt off but could not get to his shoes.

  He allowed himself a bit more time to compose himself and pull himself together. On his way to the kitchen, his eyes fell on the old bottle of scotch on the small coffee table in the living room. The night lamp was still on, despite the glowing daylight that flooded the apartment. Bonnie leaned against the wall. ‘Now, how about a drink? No, better clear my head. Not the right time for that. Better have coffee so I can think straight,’ he finally decided.

  He had to lean against the wall and grip the odd chair before he could get to his kettle and turn it on. As luck would have it, the kettle was half full. As he waited for the water to boil, he filled a mug with three spoons of coffee and poured water over it. Then, he pulled up the nearest chair and landed himself. ‘That’s it, two more sips... now, let’s get rid of these shoes.’ He removed his pants and continued to drink his coffee, still in his shorts. ‘So, what now?’ He now remembered his sister had told him she wouldn’t be coming back until that evening. Something about a few errands. He wasn’t due back at the ministry for two days. His landline was on the floor. ‘But where’s my mobile? So typical... Well, that’s just fine. What’s next?’

  Bonnie reflected on the words of the kaddish, the Jewish prayer for the dead, which he had read out loud at his father’s funeral from the cardboard the rabbi had produced from a ragged piece of plastic wrapper. Back then, he had recited it mechanically, not really referring to the words’ meaning. He suddenly recalled the words ‘an orphan’s kaddish’ as though they were right in front of him. ‘Orphan? Really? From mother too? Could there be another white envelope hidden in one of those drawers?’

  He put this thought immediately out of his mind. Another memory flashed before his eyes now. One day, when he was four or five, his mother called him and put a mirror right in front of him. He immediately recognized his own blue eyes. “Just like your mother’s,” everyone always told him.”

  “Look at your left eye. Now, tell me what you see,” Bonnie’s mother asked him.

  “Nothing.”

  “Under your pupil.”

  He looked closely and saw a tiny triangle. Its exquisite golden hue complimented the blue of his eyes.

  “Now, look into my eye,” she said as she removed the mirror.

  Bonnie was taken aback. The same mark in his own left eye, he also saw in her eye, only hers was in her right eye.

  ‘I don’t need to look for another envelope.’

  His body was too tired to struggle to remain awake. The hours went by. he couldn’t help it. He had drunk nothing since yesterday evening except for several cups of coffee.

  That evening, his sister Michal came by and helped him sort out more of the paperwork their mother had left. The way her brother looked scared her. She had never seen him like that before: grey-faced, white stubble and blank eyes.

  She had always looked up to her older brother. Something made her suspect that her girlfriends who fawned over her weren’t actually after her company but rather wanted to get to her attractive, clever brother through her. He was always highly sought after, by everyone. Very often, far too often in fact, she felt her life revolved around his. She took great pride at his achievements at school, in his social standing and his military career. Oh, how she wept in pride and excitement when he graduated officers’ course. He was of course the best cadet. She and her mother were both concerned for him during his military service in Golani, a combat unit, so out of that concern, she had followed the daily Israeli defense news very closely, especially when they touched on military and security matters. When he was accepted to veterinary school, among the precious few out of the many who had applied, this seemed so natural, so typical and in line with his achievements up until then. ‘Of course, he was admitted; if not him, who else?’

  Bonnie never looked like that. Michal had never seen him in such a state before that evening. This smart, handsome leader of men, renowned vet, acclaimed minister was lying on his couch, beaten and helpless. Bonnie was a wreck.

  “What’s wrong? Are you unwell? Shall I get you a thermometer?”

  He didn’t respond. ‘Why is he lying there, all twisted in pain and blurry-eyed?’ Michal decided to take matters into her own hands. She turned the pot on, picked a fresh lemon right from the tree by the driveway, added three spoons of sugar, ‘for energy’ and poured the tea. She laid a few pastries she had picked up at a stand near her home in town.

  “You have to eat!”

  By the time the tea got cold, she had cleared all the empty coffee cups around the house, retrieved the half empty bottle of whiskey and placed it back in the living room sideboard. Much to her relief, Bonnie sipped his tea and took a bite out of one of the pastries.

  “Now, tell me what’s wrong.”

  Bonnie’s lips were moving, but she could hear no sound.

  “Would you like another cup of tea?”

  She could tell he was getting his strength back, so she waited.

  “I do not have a father...” he said finally. Michal wa
s taken aback. ‘He’s way worse than I thought.’

  “But, of course, you haven’t got a father. He’s been dead for three years now. Speaking of which, may I remind you the memorial service is in two weeks. We have to tell his friends. Those who are still alive, that is...”

  “He isn’t my dad.”

  Michal panicked. This vague memory of a distant relative of theirs came to mind. She recalled there was talk about someone she had never met being committed to a mental asylum out in the country for many years. ‘It cannot be,’ she concluded after some debate. ‘We had a stable family. Mom and Dad were sound people. As ordinary and upstanding as anyone can be. That can’t be it. I must be need of some coffee too.’ She went over to the sink, cleaned one of the cups and made herself a black coffee without sugar.

  “Would you please explain yourself?”

  Bonnie pulled one hand from under his blanket and pointed at the small table by the standing lamp where the white envelope was.

  “Read it.”

  Michal grabbed the envelope. Concerned. “What is this? Is this a letter from Mom? How did you come by it?!”

  “I would like you to read it.”

  ‘That’s the brother I know. He’s back to his old, commanding self again. He’s always ordering me about.’ Nevertheless, her curiosity got the better of her. She found herself really anxious to know more. ‘What personal matters were going on between Mom and Bonnie?’

  Michal opened the envelope and read the letter. This time, it was her turn to get herself a double scotch. But unaccustomed as she was to drink, it made her dizzy. Save for light white wine, and even that not very often, she barely ever had a stiff drink. She was in shock.

  “What’s this stuff about a biological dad?” She was talking out loud but was addressing more to herself than to Bonnie. “Mom had a fling with another man?! No way...”