Abbas hid himself in the shadows. Karbalai Doshanbeh came down from the porch steps and Hajj Salem rose before him. Looking at the father and son, Karbalai Doshanbeh said, “What’s going on here? A funeral?”
He didn’t wait for an answer, and set off. Moslem began following him, but Hajj Salem pulled him back. “Take it easy, fool! Don’t you recognize him? He’d take the life from the angel of death himself!”
Abbas crept to the edge of the door. Mirza Hassan was lighting a new cigarette. Karbalai Doshanbeh had humiliated him. He had to recover by saying something.
“He’s a coward!”
Zabihollah said, “From the start, I didn’t have high hopes for my uncle. If he doesn’t have his money near himself, he can’t even sleep at night. He’s a person who for twenty years has eyed the alms hungry beggars collect, just to figure out how he can get a cut of it. How could we imagine that he’d come here and put his precious money into something like this?”
Salar Abdullah said, “Any older person, my cousin, and not just him, eventually loses his nerve and ambition. It’s not just about him.”
Kadkhoda Norouz said, “Good. So let’s go the heart of the matter. Mirza Hassan Khan, you think you can register God’s Land somehow? You say you’ve already started the process?”
Mirza Hassan replied, “Don’t worry, I’ll register it!”
“In your own name?”
“No. In all our names. I’ve already made the request. In Zaminej, we only need a water pump and a tractor. That’s all! Once we’re all in agreement, I’ll set out for Gorgan City. There, I can find a used tractor in good shape. I know people there.”
Salar Abdullah said, “So Mirza Khan, how much will you be able to put in yourself?”
Mirza Hassan replied, “My mother, Bibi, and I can put in fifty. If necessary, more.”
His mother’s voice sounded from the kitchen. “Mirza Khan, dinner’s ready.”
He rose and said, “Bibi, bring the embers from the kitchen and put them on the hearth here.”
Zabihollah and Salar Abdullah rose and made to put on their shoes.
“What about dinner? Aren’t you staying?”
Zabihollah said, “I need to leave. My cow is about to give birth. I think she’s overdue.”
“What about you, Salar?”
“I’m going to go to work on convincing Karbalai Doshanbeh. After all, what’s he doing sleeping on all that money and not using it?”
Mirza Hassan said, “Don’t push him too hard. He’s already said no. Anyone who’s going to be a partner on this needs to be committed.”
“Let’s see what happens.”
Salar and Zabihollah left the house, and Abbas drew himself back. Kadkhoda Norouz shouted after them, joking, “Don’t let the old man go and convince you instead, Salar!”
“Don’t be worried, Kadkhoda!”
Hajj Salem and Moslem rose before the men. Hajj Salem invoked a prayer. “May God bring good to you. May God will you good and happiness.”
Mirza Hassan came out to accompany Zabihollah and Salar to the outer gate. Moslem pulled away from his father’s grip to follow the men. But Hajj Salem grabbed him and growled, “Beast! Can’t you smell the rice? We’re due for a portion!”
At the gate, Mirza Hassan looked into the alley and said, “See you on Friday night, when we’ll all discuss how things stand.”
Zabihollah said, “My money’s ready.”
“I’ll go and see what I can get for my sheep.”
Mirza Hassan said, “In any case, Friday night, we’ll meet here again!”
“Friday night.”
Mirza Hassan returned and climbed the steps of the porch. His mother, Bibi, brought out some bread and a bowl of rice for Hajj Salem and his son, saying, “Take this outside and go eat it. Go on then! I want to shut the door.”
“Yes … Yes, Bibi.”
Bibi returned to the kitchen and Abbas crept to the gate and slid out.
Zabihollah and Salar Abdullah were still in the alley. Zabihollah was saying, “This Mirza Khan really talks up a game, doesn’t he? He makes it seem he has one hand in this world and another in the other, what with his fancy hair! But we need to watch out that there’s not something going on under the table!”
“Well, but we’re not negotiating the deal with him. We’re negotiating with the government. We’ll use our land titles as a collateral to borrow money and pay it off month to month. Over here, we need to deal with a few poor farmers who use God’s Land. We’ll toss a few scraps to them to satisfy them.”
“All I’m saying is that I hope he won’t take our few coins and waste it on his scheme!”
Zahra, Zabihollah’s sister, came running from the end of the alley, a lantern in one hand. With a trembling voice she angrily said, “Where the hell have you been? The cow’s about to die … and you … you …”
“What? It’s dying?”
“The calf won’t birth. The poor animal’s on her last legs!”
“What do you mean it won’t birth?”
“It’s a breech birth. It’s stuck!”
“What?”
“Feet first, it’s stuck!”
Zabihollah took the lantern from his sister and set out running. Zahra followed him. Abbas stepped out beside Salar Abdullah and said, “I had come to give him the same news, Salar!”
Salar turned and looked at Abbas.
“You have some nerve to even speak to me, you! God damn the devil’s black heart, and curse you!”
Abbas didn’t back away — instead, following Salar, he went along to Zabihollah’s stable. Entering the stable, the air was warm. The cow was sprawled on one side, its eyes fixed and staring into space. Zabihollah said to Salar, “What should we do, cousin?”
Salar Abdullah removed his overcoat, rolled up his sleeves, and said, “Nothing. We have to pull it out. Girl, go and prepare a pot of hot water! And you, bring the lantern over here!”
Abbas followed Zahra out of the stable, and the cow’s cries began to slowly intensify.
By the time they had prepared the hot water, Salar Abdullah had extricated the stillborn calf and tossed it to one side. They brought the warm water and Salar busied himself with washing his hands. Zabihollah was kneeling over the dead calf’s body, clasping his forehead in his hands. Zahra leaned on the wall. Abbas drew himself to the corner of the stable, hiding in the dark. The cow was still on the ground, panting.
Salar Abdullah rose, grabbed the stillborn calf’s legs, and dragged it out of the stable to the alley. The sound of a pack of stray dogs could be heard. Salar Abdullah returned and grabbed his cousin under the arms, lifting him.
“Up! Thank God the cow’s still okay!”
Zabihollah rose and said, “This is a bad omen, cousin. It bodes badly for what we’re getting into.”
Salar said, “Don’t speak ill, man! These things happen all the time. Now let’s go.”
“No. No! I have to stay with the cow. I’ll stay out here tonight.”
Abbas stepped forward. “If you’d like, I’ll stay here as well. Right here, in the manger.”
“No need. I’ll stay here myself.”
Zabihollah sat at the edge of the manger, and Salar Abdullah sat beside him. Zahra left to get a blanket for her brother. There was no need for Abbas here. He walked slowly and left the stable.
The alley was still dark and cold. Hajj Salem and Moslem were struggling in the middle of the alleyway. Moslem was pulling his father with the walking stick, while Hajj Salem from time to time would say, “Beast! Beast!”
And Moslem would reply from time to time, “D … d … d …!”
Abbas set out following Hajj Salem and Moslem.
BOOK 2