Missing Soluch (48 page)

“Let God not take you from us, Mergan! The house that you whitewashed last year is still shining like the skin of a chicken’s egg.”

Mergan left the ruins, running into others on the way.

“Where are you headed to, Mergan?”

“Nowhere in particular!”

“This year since my children’s mother died—may God rest her soul—I’ve not shaken out our blankets. Now they’re infested with lice. Could you do us a favor and delouse the blankets? I’m going to the water pump myself. They say an inspector is coming from town today.”

“Why not? I’ll come to help.”

Shortly, Mergan’s fingernails were covered with the blood of lice. She wiped her hands on the ground, washed them in water, and then rose to leave.

“Mergan, before you go, there’s a piece of bread for you here!”

“You eat it yourself, Zebideh dear! It’s not yet noon, and I still have other work to take care of.”

Mergan stood in the alley.

Halimeh’s mother was chasing after her daughter, cursing as she ran. Halimeh had put her two little hands on her head and was screaming as she tried to escape.

“Get her, Mergan! Get the little devil!”

She caught the girl in her arms.

“Don’t cry, my dear. Don’t cry!”

Halimeh’s mother pulled the girl from Mergan’s arms.

“She keeps acting up, the little shrew! You’ll see! She’s ten already but her head’s still an empty void! She’ll have to be married in a little while, but all day all she does is scratch her head. Her disgrace of a father just pretends that he’s not left this little beast in my hands. It’s as if it wasn’t his seed that was thrown into the well! Day and night he’s caught up in this water pump. This morning again he took his shovel and left to go to the pump.”

“What do you plan to do with her?”

“I’m going to pour bitumen in her hair. I’m not going to rest until I cut off her hair. She’s driving me crazy! Come and help hold her hands and feet, otherwise I’m liable to kill her with my bare hands!”

* * *

The sound of Halimeh’s cries still echoed in Mergan’s ears.

“Hey Mergan! Where are you off to with your head down like that? Could you help throw some dough in the oven and take it out when it’s ready? My son’s crying up a storm and I can’t leave him!”

Mergan stood out by the oven, covered her face up to her eyes with her chador, and busied herself with baking the bread.

By the time the mother had put the boy to sleep, Mergan had finished baking the bread.

“Here, take this piece of bread and give it to your children for their lunch!”

“God repay you. Thank you.”

Mergan walked down the alley with the bread.

The Sardar was carrying two jugs of water and was going to fill them.

“You’re going to fetch water yourself?”

“Who should I send to fetch it?”

“Give them to me!”

“Bring them back to the house.”

“Of course. I’m not going to leave your water jugs at someone else’s house!”

She lowered the full jugs off her shoulders in front of the vestibule to the Sardar’s house.

The Sardar was sitting out on a bench. Mergan leaned the jugs of water against the wall and took her bread from his hands.

“Don’t you dare look at me like that! Ha! I’ll tear your eyes out of their sockets!”

“What look? Wait a second! I need you for something!”

“Well, I don’t need you for anything!”

* * *

Mergan was at the graveyard, next to the tractor. She stood beside Abrau and placed the bread on his lap.

“You’re still sitting here? What are you waiting for?”

“I tell myself that the Gonbadi driver might still come back to return its motor!”

“If he had any intention of doing that, he’d have come back by now!”

“I don’t know. What do I know? I don’t know anything. And everyone’s going out to the water pump! Half an hour ago a Jeep came in from the city and went up there. I’m sure it went out to where the water pump is. It looks like things have come to a head. It seems those who don’t have a share of the water pump have had their complaint heard by someone, finally. I just hope it won’t lead to a fight.”

“Is Mirza Hassan there as well?”

“What do you mean, Mirza Hassan! He’s disappeared into thin air!”

“So, he’s really vanished!”

“Morad was in town until yesterday, demolishing the caravanserai, and he didn’t see Mirza Hassan in those parts. Only his brothers and the foremen were there. No one knows. His partners here have been left out to dry. You see what the Gonbadi driver did when he caught wind of all of this! Even Mirza’s older brother’s stopped minding the water pump because he’s not been paid either. Now Karbalai Doshanbeh’s trying to run the pump, but all he can do is to hit the pump with one fist and hit himself in the head with the other! Salar Abdullah’s running from one place to another like a wild dog. He’s been camping out by the doors of government offices! I
think that was him riding in the Jeep. He went to get the authorities. It’ll be good if no one comes to blows today!”

“Now let me just sit here with you and let’s see what happens.”

Mergan split the bread as she spoke. She gave Abrau one half and began eating the other.

“Isn’t that Uncle Aman, coming from up there?”

“You’re right. Why is he running like that? Is someone after him?”

With each step he took, Molla Aman’s long strides made the black wings of his cloak flutter in the wind, making him resemble a hawk in midflight. Without pausing beside his sister for a moment, he continued past them, leaping across the dry stream, dashing between the gravestones, breathlessly saying, “The Sardar’s camel …! His old mare has fallen into the main well of the canal system …! It’s blocked up the water for the whole system …! Things are happening …! I’m going to go tell him now … Who knows, it might have been someone’s doing!”

“It might be someone’s doing?”

Abrau swallowed a mouthful of bread and said, “It must be Zabihollah’s doing! He wants to blame the Sardar’s camel’s body for the low waters in the canals … Damn him!”

Shortly, Molla Aman returned from the village with the Sardar with him.

“It must be Zabihollah’s doing. It’s clearer than day to me, Sardar! And behind it is that old dog Karabalai Doshanbeh. Don’t think just because he’s silent he’s not involved! He’s a cunning old fox!”

The Sardar pounded his walking stick on the graves as he took longer strides to keep up with Molla Aman. But Molla Aman kept his lead, speaking to the Sardar over his shoulder.

“It’s been a month that the old dog’s kept me here in his trap. I’m constantly struggling with him. I go to his shed, and I sit and talk from morning to night; but do you think he listens to me one bit? Do you think he responds to me at all? He only nods his head and looks at me like a donkey looks at its owner! And he’s tied my poor animal in the corner of his stable in front of an empty trough; its ears are drooping from hunger! He thinks he’s become the new owner of my poor donkey. So he just sits and stares at me, and I look back at him and sigh. What am I to do? May God strike him. He doesn’t even give the poor animal a single strand of hay to eat. Woe is me! My donkey used to eat half a
man
of barley each day; now its stomach is drying out! And he’s taken my peddling goods and tossed them under him!”

They passed through the graveyard and by the tractor. Abrau looked at them and shook his head. Mergan rose and began following behind them. Abrau turned to watch his mother as she left.

“Where are you going, now?”

“I’m going to see what’s happening!”

“What’s it to us?! Who are you to have anything to do with all this?”

Mergan followed, keeping pace with Molla Aman and the Sardar.

Molla Aman was continuing his monologue.

“… and now he doesn’t even let me into the house. His son’s bride, Salar Abdullah’s wife, doesn’t even open the door for me now. Yesterday evening I had a hankering to go out to the fields. I told myself, I’ll go out in the fields to clear my mind a bit, to shout, scream! If I can’t shout in the open air, I’ll just put
my head in a well and shout. What do you know! I was in that state of mind when I happened by the main canal well. What do you think I saw? Ha! It was Karbalai Doshanbeh, sitting by the canal well looking like he was reading the future in the water. I said, hello old man! He suddenly leapt up and screamed. He got up and moved away from the well. He shot a glance at me and one at your camel. And your camel herder, the son of Sadegh Jal, was lying on a boulder, asleep. The old man didn’t give me a chance to say anything. But suddenly a sentence popped out of his mouth; he said that since they took the cover off the top of the well, who knows what kinds of dangerous things might happen. And look, he said, the Sardar’s camels are just wandering freely all around here!

“I didn’t say anything. I just waited to see what he was going to say! Then he added, the old mare’s also blind in one eye; it could easily fall into this well! I still didn’t say anything. He ended by saying, the Sardar’s brain must be in the heel of his foot, as he’s given a boy of twelve the job of looking after ten or twelve camels. Then, when he saw I was looking at him suspiciously, he headed back down to the village. I followed him. I could see he was nervous about me. He kept trying to slip away. When I saw that he was frightened, I just stayed quiet. He was so nervous he turned and promised me that he’d give me back my donkey and peddling wares. That’s when I saw Zabihollah heading up in the opposite direction. Karbalai Doshanbeh shot off in the direction of his nephew. I stayed where I was. I saw that they exchanged a few quiet words, and then Zabihollah set out again, this time walking faster. But how was I to know what they were planning? I was just following my own complaint with Karbalai Doshanbeh because I could tell the old man was softening
up a bit. I came by last night myself to tell you about it, but you weren’t home. I stayed at your home until late at night, until Sadegh Jal returned with the camels. But one was missing: the old mare. The poor boy didn’t know what had happened. He had decided the old mare must have headed in the other direction toward the desert. He had cried so much his eyes were totally red. He had stayed out there late last night. I asked about you. He told me you’d gone to town. So I came back early in the morning and I helped him take the camels back out to graze. Then I came back again and waited for you at your house. The sun had come up, but you’d not returned. I was worried, so I went back to the fields to see if I could find out what happened. I saw that a group had gathered around the well. I didn’t waste a moment; I turned right around and came back. I decided if you weren’t home, I’d go straight to town to look for you. And now the canal waters have dried up, just overnight. Come! See! That’s how people discovered that the mare had fallen into the well. Look! There’s no water in the canals! The well is dry!”

Molla Aman pulled the Sardar to the edge of a canal, and the Sardar looked at its moist bed. There was only a thin stream of water trickling down the center. The Sardar pounded his stick into the half-dead stream, making a hole in the bed as deep as a fist-sized rock. By the time Mergan caught up, the two men set out again in a hurry.

* * *

Small groups of men were standing or sitting in the center of the canal system. It was something like a mourning ceremony. Most of them were the poor villagers who had small stakes in
the canal waters. Hassan Yavar, who had a larger claim than the others, and who had made the complaint against the water pump owners to the governor’s office, was not among them. He was likely with the officials at the water pump itself.

As the Sardar arrived, the men rose and encircled him. Ghanbar Shadyakh, the father of Halimeh, pounded his shovel before the feet of the Sardar and said, “May God take account of you if you don’t testify to say that the water of the canals was already low before your camel fell into this well!”

Hamdullah Kanaan, a stout short-tempered man, dug his claw into the Sardar’s shoulder, saying, “These are some right bastards, Sardar! We had to deal with a hundred obstacles before we managed to get the officer and the inspector to come out here, and then today they’ve blocked the canal water like this! They took your poor defenseless camel and threw her into the main canal well just to claim to the auditor that the low water level of the canals isn’t caused by the water pump!”

The Molla of Zaminej, who was standing there, was muttering, “Judgment Day! Judgment Day!”

Ali Yavar, not addressing anyone in particular, said, “The fields are baking from the lack of water! Baking! If our fields don’t have water in a day or two, the next harvest will be destroyed!”

Molla Aman and the Sardar walked the path up to the well, with the others following behind them. Ghanbar Shadyakh was holding his shovel on his shoulder as he ran between the people, saying over and over, “God will take account, Sardar. He’ll take account if you don’t testify about the water!”

Hamdullah also kept murmuring his own curses. “These are a bunch of bastards all right! Real bastards!”

Morad approached the Sardar and Molla Aman.

“Here they come, Sardar! Zabihollah’s brought the inspector to look at the main well. He’s telling them why the water’s backed up. The Kadkhoda’s also written up an affidavit and is having it witnessed. He’s over there. It seems he’s taking their side on this.”

Molla Aman said, “But the traitor has a stake in this canal himself!”

Morad said, “The poor son of Sadegh Jal is sitting by the well and crying.”

A group was standing around the well. There were tire tracks from the Jeep imprinted in the dirt. Standing on the running board of the parked automobile was the driver, a broad-shouldered young man with tight curly hair who was the only person standing apart from the circle surrounding the well. Two policemen were walking back and forth next to the crowd. Three other strangers, the inspectors and officials from the Office of Agriculture, were standing apart from the others and were speaking among themselves. Salar Abdullah was standing by the group of officials. The son of Sadegh Jal was sitting by the edge of the well with his face hidden in his hands. Zabihollah was pacing to and fro with a nervous look on his face. Kadkhoda Norouz was standing behind the group of officials holding a sheet of paper in his hand. Hajj Salem and Moslem were milling about the group of people. Ali Genav was sitting to one side smoking a cigarette. The various smaller investors in the water pump were standing around with no obvious purpose, every bit as worried as the major investors who were all there.