I sat next to him and said, ‘Look, my son, yell if you want to yell. Yell as much as you want to and let it all out.’
‘They came and turned our life upside down, they arrested Dad, and we sat here like idiots and watched them do whatever they wanted,’ he shouted.
‘What exactly did you want us to do? What could we do? Could we have stopped them?’
He pounded his fists on the table. There was blood on the edge of his hands. I took them in mine and held them tight. He started yelling obscenities. I waited until he calmed down.
‘You know, Siamak,’ I said, ‘when you were a boy you got into fights with everyone and became very agitated. I used to hold you in my arms and you would punch me and kick me until you got rid of all your anger. If it still calms you down, then come here.’
And I took him in my arms. He was considerably taller and stronger than me and could easily have pulled away. But he didn’t. He put his head on my shoulder and cried. A few minutes later, he said, ‘Mum, you are so lucky, you are so calm and strong!’
I laughed and thought, Let him have this impression of me…
Massoud was watching us with tears in his eyes. Shirin had fallen asleep in his arms. I motioned to him and he gently put Shirin down and came to me. I put my arms around him, too, and the three of us cried tears that united us and gave us strength. A few minutes later, I pulled myself away and said, ‘Well, boys, we shouldn’t waste any time. Crying isn’t going to help your father. We have to come up with a plan. Are you ready?’
‘Of course!’ they both replied.
‘Well then, hurry up and pack a few things. You will stay with Mother for a few days and Mrs Parvin will take care of Shirin.’
‘What will you do?’ Massoud asked.
‘I have to go to your grandfather’s house so that we can find out where your father is. Perhaps we can get some news of him. We have to go to many different places; there are hundreds of government committees and military departments.’
‘I will come with you,’ Siamak said.
‘No, you have to take care of your brother and sister,’ I said. ‘After your father, you are responsible for the family.’
‘First of all, I won’t go to Grandmother’s house because Uncle Ali’s wife will be upset; she wants to cover herself in front of me and she will constantly nag and complain. Second, Mrs Parvin will be taking care of Shirin, and Massoud is a big boy who doesn’t need me to watch over him.’
He was right, but I didn’t know what our true situation was and I worried that his young and quick-tempered spirit might not be able to handle some of what we would encounter.
‘Look, son,’ I said. ‘You have other duties, too. You have to find help. Tell your uncle Ali what has happened and see if he knows anyone in any of the committees. I have heard that his brother-in-law has joined the Revolutionary Guards. If necessary, go talk to him. But make sure you don’t say anything that would make your father’s situation any worse than it is.’
‘Of course, I won’t,’ Siamak said. ‘I’m not a child. I know what to say.’
‘Fine. Then I want you to go to your aunt Faati’s house and tell Sadegh Agha everything that has happened. Perhaps he knows people who can help. And if you want, you can stay with them. For now, we have to find out where your father is. I will tell you the rest of what you need to do later.’
‘Don’t you want me to tell Uncle Mahmoud?’ Siamak asked. ‘You know he can help. They say he is the head of one of the committees.’
‘No. After the fight he and your father had, I don’t think he will do anything to help. We’ll leave that for later. I will come and see you as soon as I can. And you don’t need to go to school tomorrow. Hopefully, everything will be much clearer by Saturday.’
Not only did nothing become clearer, everything became more vague and complicated. Hamid’s father and I spent the next two days going to see every one of his friends and acquaintances, but it was useless. Those who had previously held a position of influence had mostly left the country and the others had either lost their jobs or were on the run.
‘Things have changed,’ Hamid’s father said. ‘We don’t know anyone any more.’
We had no choice; we had to start searching for Hamid ourselves. The heads of police departments and divisions denied any involvement, claimed they had no information, and referred us to various government committees. At the committees we were asked what crime Hamid was charged with. We didn’t know what to say and with fear and trepidation I would mumble that I thought he was accused of being a communist. No one felt a responsibility to give us an answer. Or perhaps it was because of security issues that they would not tell us where Hamid was being held.
Two days later, more exhausted than before and hoping to find help and support, I went to Mother’s house. Faati and the children were there, waiting and worried.
‘Couldn’t you have at least called?’ Siamak said irately.
‘No, my dear, I couldn’t. You have no idea what it has been like. We have been to a thousand places and only returned to your grandfather’s house late last night. And I had to stay there because we had another appointment at seven-thirty this morning. But you have talked to your grandmother, haven’t you?’
‘Yes, but I want to know what you and Grandfather have managed to find out.’
‘You can be sure that whenever I have good news, you will be the first person to hear it. Now go and gather your things; we have to go back home.’
Then I turned to Ali and said, ‘Ali, you and Mahmoud know so many people at different committees. Can’t you find out where they have taken Hamid?’
‘To be honest, sister, forget about Mahmoud. He refuses to even hear Hamid’s name. As for me, I can’t openly ask around and investigate. After all, your husband is a communist and before you know it, I will be labelled and accused of a thousand things. But I will inquire indirectly.’
I was disappointed and wanted to say something to him, but I controlled myself. In spite of everything, I needed him.
‘Sadegh will contact a few people he knows,’ Faati said. ‘Don’t torture yourself like this. There is nothing you can do. And why do you want to go back home?’
‘I have to go,’ I said. ‘You won’t believe the condition the house is in. I have to tidy it up. And the boys have to go back to school on Saturday.’
‘Then leave Shirin with us,’ she said. ‘You want to go here and there and she will be in the way and hold you back. You know how much Firouzeh loves her and plays with her as if she were a doll.’
Firouzeh was five years old and as beautiful and adorable as a flower, but Faati was four months’ pregnant with her second child.
‘No, my dear,’ I said. ‘In your condition, you can’t take care of a baby and I am more comfortable having the kids with me. If only Mrs Parvin could…’
Mrs Parvin, who had lovingly taken care of Shirin those two days and now was ruefully listening to me talk about taking her back home, jumped up and said, ‘Of course I will come with you!’
‘Don’t you have any work you need to do?’ I asked. ‘I don’t want to impose.’
‘What work? Thank God, I have no husband and no tag-alongs, and these days no one wants custom-made dresses. I’ll come and stay with you for a week, until things get more organised.’
‘Mrs Parvin, I love you! What would I do without you? And how can I ever make up for all your kindness?’
We spent all day Friday tidying up the house.
‘The first time they ransacked the house, Father, God rest his soul, sent a few people to help me out,’ I said to Mrs Parvin. ‘Now look how alone and abandoned I am. I miss Father so much and need him so desperately.’
My voice broke and Massoud, who I didn’t know was watching us, ran to me, took my hand and said, ‘But you have us! We will help you. For the love of God, don’t be sad!’
I ruffled his beautiful hair, looked into his kind eyes and said, ‘I know, my dear. As long as I have you, I
have no sorrow.’
This time, the raiders had left untouched Bibi’s rooms and the cellar, which was almost empty. Therefore, our work was limited to the upstairs rooms, which by late afternoon were almost organised and the house at least appeared tidy. I sent the boys to take a bath, forced them to do the homework they had fallen behind with, and asked them to get ready to go to school the next day. But Siamak was restless. He didn’t want to do his homework and kept agitating me. I knew he had every right to feel unsettled, but I could tolerate only so much.
Finally, I sat the boys down and sternly said, ‘You can see how much I have to do and deal with, you know how many headaches and worries I have, and you know how many things I have to manage at the same time. Now, how much energy do you think I have? If you don’t help me and only add to my problems, I will collapse. And the best way you can help is to do your homework so that I will have one less thing to worry about. Will you help me or not?’
Massoud wholeheartedly promised and Siamak hesitantly promised…
On Saturday, I again went to several government committees. Hamid’s father looked as if he had aged several years and was visibly breaking under the weight of his anguish. I felt sorry for him and didn’t want him to accompany me everywhere.
All my running around that day was to no avail. No one would give me a straight answer. I realised I had no choice but to turn to Mahmoud for help. I would have been more comfortable talking to him on the telephone, but I knew every member of his family had been told that if I ever called they should tell me he was not home. Reluctantly, I went to his street and waited at the corner until I saw him come home and go inside. I rang the doorbell and walked in. Ehteram-Sadat greeted me coldly. Gholam-Ali saw me in the yard and cheerfully said, ‘Hello, Aunt!’ But suddenly remembering that he was not to exchange pleasantries with me, he frowned and walked away.
‘Well, I’m sure you are not here to inquire about my health,’ Ehteram-Sadat said. ‘If you came to see Mahmoud, he isn’t home and I’m not sure if he will be back tonight.’
‘Go and tell him to come here,’ I said. ‘I know he is home and I want to talk to him. I saw him come in.’
‘What?’ she said, feigning surprise. ‘When did he come in? I didn’t see him.’
‘Clearly, you never see what goes on in your house,’ I said. ‘Tell him I just need two minutes of his time.’
Ehteram-Sadat sulked, wrapped her chador around her round figure and walked away grumbling. I wasn’t angry with her; I knew she was just obeying Mahmoud’s orders. A few minutes later, she came back and said, ‘He is saying his prayers and you know how long his prayers take.’
‘That’s all right,’ I said. ‘I will wait. I will wait until tomorrow morning if I have to.’
After some time, Mahmoud finally came and with a foul-tempered look mumbled a hello. Every cell in my body detested being in that house. In a choked voice I said, ‘Mahmoud, you are my older brother. I have no one but you. Father left me in your care. For the love of your children, don’t let my children become orphans. Help me.’
‘It’s none of my business,’ he grumbled. ‘It’s not as if it’s up to me.’
‘Ehteram-Sadat’s uncle has a lot of influence in the Revolutionary Court and the government committees. Just arrange for a meeting. All I want is to find out where Hamid is and what condition he is in. Just take me to Ehteram’s uncle.’
‘Really! You want me to go and say this godless atheist is my relative? Please exonerate him? No, my dear, I didn’t find my honour and respect on the side of the road to give it up like this.’
‘You don’t need to say anything,’ I implored. ‘I will talk to him myself. I’m not even going to ask them to release him or to pardon him. They can even sentence him to life in prison. I just don’t want torture… execution…’ And I burst into tears.
With a triumphant look in his eyes and a smirk on his lips, Mahmoud shook his head and said, ‘It’s great the way you remember us when you are in trouble. Until now mullahs were bad, conservatives were bad, there was no God, there was no Prophet. Right?’
‘Stop it, brother. When did I ever say there is no God and no Prophet? To this day, I have never missed a single prayer. And most of the mullahs are far more open-minded and enlightened than the likes of you. Wasn’t it you who boasted everywhere you went that your brother-in-law was a revolutionary, a political prisoner and had been tortured in prison? No matter what, he is the father of my children; don’t I have the right to know where he is and in what condition? For the love of your children, help me.’
‘Get up, sister. Get up and get a hold of yourself,’ he said. ‘Do you think it’s that simple? Your husband has led a revolt against God and Islam, he is an atheist, and Your Highness wants everyone to leave him alone so that he can wreak any havoc he wants and destroy the country and our faith?
‘Let’s be fair, if he were in power, would he have left a single one of us alive? If you love your children, you will tell the truth… huh? Why are you suddenly quiet? No, my dear, you have read this all wrong. God sanctions the spilling of that man’s blood. I have spent all my life devoted to Islam, and now you expect me to go to Haji Agha and force him to commit a sin for the sake of a faithless man who has turned his back on God? No, I will never do such a thing, nor would Haji Agha agree to let the enemy of God and Islam go without punishment. Even if the whole world begged him, he would still do what is right.
‘Did you think it is still the Shah’s era and you can save that man by pulling a few strings? No, my dear, now it is all about truth and righteousness, it is about faith and who has the power to forgive.’
I felt as if I was being beaten over the head with a sledgehammer; my eyes burned and I was seething with rage. I cursed myself for having gone to see Mahmoud. Why did I ask that hypocrite who knew nothing about God for help? Clenching my jaw, I wrapped my chador around me, stood facing him and I screamed, ‘Say it! Say, “I used him as much as I needed to and now I have no use for him any more, I don’t need a partner any more, I want to stuff my stomach alone.” You imbecile! It torments God to see servants like you.’
And I ran cursing out of that house. Every fibre in my body was trembling.
It took us two weeks to find out Hamid was in Evin Prison. Every day, I put on my chador and, with his parents or alone, I went there trying to find prison officials or others who could provide reliable information. Hamid’s crime was indisputable. They had so many photographs and speeches and articles he had written that there was no way to deny anything. I don’t know if he was ever put on trial and, if so, when.
Barely a month and a half after his arrest, during one of our visits to the prison, Hamid’s father and I were ushered into a room.
‘I think they have finally granted us a visit,’ I whispered to him. Excited, we both stood there and waited. A few minutes later, a prison guard walked in holding a package. He put it on the table and said, ‘These are his personal effects.’
I stared at him. I couldn’t understand what he meant. Then he snapped, ‘Aren’t you Hamid Soltani’s family? He was executed the day before yesterday and these are his things.’
I felt as if a live wire had been attached to me. My entire body was shaking. I looked at Hamid’s father. With his face as white as chalk and his hands squeezing his chest, he crumpled and fell into a chair. I wanted to go to him, but my legs wouldn’t cooperate. I felt dizzy and then I felt nothing at all.
The blare of the ambulance siren made me come to. I opened my eyes.
They took Hamid’s father to the intensive care unit and I was taken to the emergency room. I had to let my family know. I could remember Faati’s and Mansoureh’s telephone numbers and I gave them to the nurse.
Hamid’s father remained hospitalised, but I was released and went home that night. I couldn’t look my children in the eye. I didn’t know how much they knew and I didn’t know what to tell them. I had no energy to talk or even to cry. I had been injected with so many
sedatives that soon I fell into a dark and bitter sleep.
It took three days for me to come out of that state of shock and delirium, and it took three days for Hamid’s father to finally lose his battle against death and to reach eternal peace and freedom. The only thing I managed to say was, ‘How fortunate he is. Now, he is at peace.’
I envied him more than anyone in the world.
The funeral services for the father and son were held together and we could mourn Hamid without fear and foreboding. Seeing my sons’ sad faces, puffy eyes and slight figures dressed in black broke my heart. I spent much of the ceremony reliving the memories of my life with Hamid, which was now condensed into the one month we had spent on the Caspian coast. From my own family, only Mother and Faati attended the funeral.
The Book of Fate Page 36
