“My mother says that they came once, told them that Lara had this incredible potential, and they offered to become her managers. My father refused. Then they came back after he died, and this time my mother accepted. They convinced her, I guess. I was home when they came the second time, but was outside in the garden, and my mother did not call me in. I wish I had talked to them before Lara went. I only remember saying goodbye to her the night before, and I had already left the house when they came for her later the next day. We never thought that we wouldn’t hear from her for so long after she left. Had I known, I would have tried to find out where they were taking her.”
“So your father refused to let her go the first time they asked. Do you know anything about that first meeting?”
“Not more than what I already told you. They came, they made their offer, he said no, then they left. Those are the details.”
“But then your father went to Martashen to see Ayvazian, right?” asks Gagik. “Avo jan, this is very important. Do you know anything about that?”
“Actually, that was the second time they came,” says Avo, correcting his earlier story. “The second time they came to ask for Lara was the third time they were in Saralandj. All I know is that they invited my father to pay a visit to Ayvazian, and he agreed. I now wish I knew more about what was going on. But at the time none of it seemed important. Nobody imagined that they’d send his body back.”
This was news to Laurian, and, judging from his facial expressions, to Gagik as well. For the first time they saw the events in three distinct phases: the first proposal and rejection; Galian’s death; the second proposal and acceptance. It was unreasonable to assume that the three weren’t related.
“Avo,” Laurian asks after a long silence, “who was in those meetings with them? Who knows firsthand what was discussed?”
“Only my mother. I know she was there at the first meeting, and at the third meeting when she agreed to let Lara go. But I’m not sure who was there at the second meeting, when they convinced my father to go to Martashen. As I said, I saw them briefly but had to leave. Maybe he talked to them alone that time. We’ll have to ask my mother.”
Laurian and Gagik offer to help Avo finish up at the stable. Aram chips in as well. It is heavy work. The bales of hay are heavy, and they need to be stacked high. Avo simply throws one on his right shoulder and climbs up the stacked bales to place it on top of the stack. Aram climbs up and helps arrange the bales neatly. Laurian and Gagik cannot do what Avo is doing, so they awkwardly roll some of the bales closer to the barn. In less than thirty minutes Laurian is already out of breath and perspiring.
When all the bales are arranged and stored to Avo’s satisfaction, he makes sure that the cows have enough feed and then locks the door of the stable. He walks over to the second building, which houses more cows and several horses, throws some feed in front of the animals and locks the gates. They start to walk back to the house.
“Is it safe to leave the stables like that?” asks Laurian.
“Oh yes,” says Avo. “Most of the villagers have animals in there. No one would steal them.”
“No, I meant from wolves,” says Laurian. The stories of Zrah the Gampr are still fresh in his mind.
“Wolves won’t come so close to the village, at least not in the fall. They might in January or February, when they’re more desperate to find food, but by then we’ll have some of the dogs inside. Besides, they rarely attack cows and horses. They go after the sheep, and we don’t keep the sheep here.”
“Well, you basically seem ready for winter; what else is there to do?”
“Not much. There are some repairs to be done at the stables, and we need to agree with the villagers what animals they want to keep there during the winter months. They pay us a small amount to take care of the stables and feed their animals. I will be done in a week or two.”
“Then what?” asks Laurian.
“Just maintenance work,” says Avo, “but no heavy lifting. During winters we don’t have much to do except wait for spring. We’re talking about four lazy months. Everyone puts on some weight.” He laughs. Avo does not laugh often, and Laurian is happy to hear it.
As they make the left turn onto the main road toward the house, they run into Martha. She looks very tired but greets them warmly, hugs Aram and kisses his cheek, but is a bit more formal with Avo. Laurian and Gagik let them walk ahead, and Martha and Avo manage to chat a bit before reaching the house. They probably need to catch up on family matters, Laurian thinks. He is happy to walk behind them with Gagik and Aram. At that moment, perhaps because he has worked a little at the stables, Laurian feels particularly close to the Galians. He never met Samvel Galian, but he senses his influence and presence everywhere around the family. Laurian feels a strong connection with Avo, Martha and their youngest sibling, Aram. He wants to get to know the mother better, and learn more about Lara, the mystery beauty who is at the center of the puzzle he is struggling to solve. So what’s your true story, Lara, he wonders as they walk past the last mud puddle and turn into the steps leading to the front entrance, which is also the door of the parents’ bedroom. If you were recruited by Ayvazian, I wonder…
The questions that Laurian and Gagik have been asking have aroused Avo’s interest. Now he too wants to know about the three meetings with Ayvazian’s men. He wants to know why his father went to visit him, and why he refused to let Lara go the first time they asked. For some reason, all that had not seemed important until now. Just hearing the questions out loud made them more relevant and important to him. And indeed, what was Papa thinking when he said no? And why did mama say yes only a month later? And why did Papa go to Martashen? It was all a set of givens until now; it was just the way things were, the simple facts. But now it didn’t seem so simple; the supposed facts had turned into nagging questions in his mind.
Why indeed. It seemed amazing to him that he never asked the question before. And why did his sister Lara have to go, never to be heard from again? Just asking the question in his mind was a revelation to him. It was a novelty simply questioning the why of facts. If you can ask why, you do not just accept; you rule a little, you control a little. You can ask why, even if everything seemed ‘normal’ to you before. And then Avo suddenly had a chilling question push its way into his mind: Why on earth is this Laurian fellow so interested in us? Why does it matter to him?
As soon as they enter the house, Martha gets busy making tea for her mother. She offers some to them as well, and this time they accept. She puts a small jar of honey on the table; “from our own bees,” she says with pride. Then Avo awakens his mother. She opens her eyes slowly, like last time, and attempts a brave smile at the sight of her son. The whole scene is a repeat for Laurian, but in the grander scheme of things, it seems insignificant compared to the sense that not much has changed in this village for hundreds of years.
“Mom jan,” says Avo, gently stroking her arm. “Get up; we have our friends visiting again.”
“Avo, balés,” smiles Silva Galian. “Inch aretsir? Amen inch normal a? What did you get done? Is everything normal?”
“Ha, Mom, normal. Listen, I need to ask you a few questions. Sit up. Martha will bring your tea in a minute. Now listen, Mom. I need to know about the times when Ayvazian’s men came over. The first time they came, they asked for Lara, right? But papa refused. Why?”
“We both refused,” says Silva Galian, struggling to sit up. “We said she was too young to go to Greece.”
“But then you let her go. Why did you change your mind?”
“When they came again your father was already dead. I don’t really know why I said yes the second time. But they sounded genuine and they were sure Lara would do well. ‘What kind of future could she have in Saralandj,’ they asked. They were so sure, they made me believe it too. She’s done well, hasn’t she? They were right. How would she send all that money otherwise?”
“Yes, Mama, of course she’s done well. But why did they ask Pa
pa to go to Martashen?”
“Oh, Ayvazian wanted to do some business with Papa; they were going to start a dairy farm or something. Your father was not interested but he went to be polite. He told me that when he left. He said he shouldn’t refuse Ayvazian twice in one week.”
“But then they sent his body the next day.” Avo remembers, talking more to himself than to his mother. “What happened to him?”
“They all said it was an accident, balés, but why are you asking these questions now? He tripped on a fallen log and fell off the cliff. All the wounds confirmed that. The police report confirmed that. Eyewitnesses confirmed that.”
“Silva jan,” says Gagik, approaching her bed. “Samvel and I were good friends. He used to tell me great stories about his family. So I am also curious, like Avo. Did you meet any of the eyewitnesses? Did anyone in Saralandj actually talk to them? Do you know who they are or how many of them saw the accident?”
“The people who brought his body told us everything,” says Silva Galian, noticeably tired of both speaking and of the topic. “They had papers, signatures, everything. I did not look at everything, but the local police did.”
Gagik looks at Laurian with a hint of frustration in his eyes, as if trying to say that they won’t get much more information from Silva Galian. People weren’t in the habit of questioning authority, and any story became fact when repeated a few times.
Laurian sips his tea as he approaches Martha, who has already served her mother and started preparing a meal.
“Martha, what do you remember about how Lara left?”
“What I know is what mother has told me,” says Martha as she washes the vegetables and puts them in a bowl. “Papa didn’t like Ayvazian very much and did not want to deal with him. ‘They’re not like us,’ he would say. Papa used to say that it is important to know the people one deals with; and he said one could never know Ayvazian well. Too many secrets, rumors and stories.”
“But then he agreed to see him again, right? To even go to him. How come?”
“He was afraid. Papa thought that they’d harm one of us if he did not go.”
“Did they threaten him?” asks Gagik.
“Not that I know of. But he thought he should go; otherwise it would look like he was being disrespectful to Ayvazian. They didn’t have to threaten directly. He somehow got the message that it would be better if he went.”
“Did you talk to Lara right before she left with them?”
“Yes, we talked the night before. First Mama talked to her, advised her, and then she and I talked in our bedroom.”
“How did she feel about leaving?”
“Lara was always a bit crazy,” says Martha, still not interrupting her work. “She acted like a boy. She is so beautiful, but that had not yet started to matter to her. So she thought she was just going on another adventure, as if going hunting with the men, or chasing and rounding up the sheep like the sheepdogs.”
“Did she know that your father had refused to let her go the first time they came for her?”
“No, none of us did. My parents did not talk about their first visit to us at the time. And we didn’t ask. It was parents’ business, not ours.”
“When did you find out?”
“Very recently, actually. Mother mentioned it one day, but I’m not even sure why. It doesn’t matter much to us now.”
“But you’re sure that the day Lara left she didn’t know about the purpose of their first visit and about your father’s refusal, right?”
“Yes, I’m pretty sure. Mama wouldn’t have told her that; why would she? Lara left here excited; she was probably looking forward to a new adventure, even though none of us understood exactly where she was going or what she would be doing. There were the same explanations, Greece, modeling, good money, but we could not picture what any of that really meant.”
Laurian has already decided that sooner or later he will have to take Avo into his confidence and explain his concerns about Ayvazian. But this is not the time or place. He signals to Gagik and they stand up. Avo and Aram walk them out and accompany them to his car.
He pulls Avo aside and says, “I’d like to invite you to come and spend a week with me in Vardahovit, when you’re finished here, that is. I think you’ll find it interesting.”
Avo is surprised and intrigued by the invitation.
“I’m not sure I can leave for a week, even when I’m done here,” he says politely, “but thanks. I could come to visit for a day.” He is now as curious about Laurian as Laurian is about him.
“You said yourself that there isn’t much to do once you close up for winter,” says Laurian with a smile. “It will be a good break, I promise. The rest of the family can take care of things once you’re done with the heavy stuff.”
“We’ll see how Mama feels,” says Avo. “But I’ll definitely come. I’m just not sure how long I can stay.”
Laurian hands him a piece of paper with his cell phone number.
“Call me,” he says. “And please get a phone. As I offered last time, I’ll be happy to send you one myself.”
“Thanks, but no need for that, really,” Avo says. “I’ll get it soon, I promise. I’ll call you within the week. And maybe visit a week after that.”
They are largely silent during the thirty-minute ride back to the restaurant in Ashtarak. Laurian thinks about asking Gagik to check a lot of details about what was known about human trafficking in Armenia and about Ayvazian, but he dismisses the idea. It wouldn’t be right to involve an old friend in his personal obsessions, especially potentially dangerous ones. So the two say goodbye without any further discussion or a clear plan, and Laurian heads back to Vardahovit.
He has decided to tell Avo everything he knows, including showing him some of the pictures. Unlike Khev Gago, Avo has a reason to know and to be involved. He now has to wait for his visit.
XIII
I saw Avo in my dream last night. He looked like a grown man; tall and handsome. He did not look happy, though. Kurig jan, he said, Mama is very ill… and then he left.
Kurig jan…dear little sister. It has been a long time since Lara has heard those words. What does the dream mean? Has she missed Avo so much that her mind is forcing the dream on her? Has she missed being called kurig? Mama must be really ill. Sumaya told her once that dreams have a lot of meaning in the Middle East. They do in Armenia too. People believe in dreams and in their predictive power. Mama did not look well at all when she left the house such a long time ago; she had spent a whole month crying. So maybe she has fallen ill. Are they really receiving the money that she sends them? Viktor had reassured her that every penny that she gave him to send was received by her mother. He had shown her small pieces of paper, which were transfer and receipt confirmations; they were in Russian, but she could read enough to understand the content. They were sealed and signed and looked official.
“I want to talk to her again,” she had told Viktor a long time ago, when she was still in Moscow.
“No,” he had answered. “Not yet. When you start feeling truly comfortable in your new self, then we’ll arrange it.” That was a good strategy, as far as Viktor was concerned. It would not only avoid any risk of alarming her mother, but would also give her an added incentive to accept her new situation as a prostitute.
She had even appealed to Anastasia to help her get in touch with her family, but Anastasia tried to talk her out of it.
“Why, Lara, why? There’s no point. They will never accept what has happened to you, and you can never go back. So what’s the point? Just focus on doing well, and keep sending them money. That way everyone will be happy. The less they know the better, believe me.”
She gave up the thought of contacting home while in Moscow. Then she tried to get permission a few more times after reaching Dubai, but Madame Ano would not hear of it. She was given a cell phone that operated only locally in Dubai. She could not make or receive calls from overseas, not that she had any phone numbers to call
home even if permitted to. She would have tried to reach the main post office in Aparan, and send word that she’d call again at a specified time, and ask her mother or Avo to be at the post office at the time. She could manage that much, if allowed. But the girls were watched closely, and they were not allowed to get their own phone services. Ali the enforcer made that very clear to them.
Kurig jan, Mama is very ill… That’s all he said, and then he left. It was a scary dream, which was very disturbing considering that it was Avo. Why did Avo appear to her in a scary dream? Why not in one that was sad, or happy or full of tears of nostalgia? Why scary? The old women in her village would have had many interpretations about this. He showed up like a ghost, said Mama was ill, and disappeared like a ghost. He was there just for a minute to give her the message. But this was Avo, after all, her closest brother and friend, and not a single word from him about her, about how much he missed her, about how she was doing. Nothing personal. That was scarier than the message. What did that mean? Was he out to harm her to defend the family honor like in some of the stories that she’d heard? Would Avo be capable of killing her?
How she ached for her father’s reassuring embrace, his strong arms and calm gaze. It was his calming presence that she needed the most, not an interpreter of dreams. He’d be able to give her peace with his all-knowing silence, his understanding warmth. What did you discover in the forest, Lara? She reached for Araxi Dadik’s ring, rubbed it, kissed it and pressed it first to her cheek and then to her heart. Both Al Barmaka and Sumaya had noticed the dynamic with the ring and had asked her about it. It was such a thin, simple ring, barely a few grams of gold in it. It was virtually worthless in Dubai. But she seemed to treasure it more than anything else that she had.
“Is it from a lover?” Al Barmaka had asked, attempting to sound jealous.
“No, nothing like that, Sir,” she had answered.
“What then? Someone you secretly loved or, god forbid, still do?”
A Place Far Away Page 22
