“Look at him! Look, the sweat on his forehead would make you think he just dug up a mountain!”
Then he bent his body over the shovel and didn’t straighten himself until all the snow was cleared and piled up in one spot by the wall. Then he took the shovel in one hand and pushed the door to the stable open with his shoulder. The stable was small, just big enough for ten or twelve sheep and a couple of lambs. Despite this, no one could remember Soluch ever owning any animals, save the one donkey of his that had died the previous year.
The boys ran into the stable. First among them, the sons of Salar Abdullah and the Kadkhoda, who sat on the edge of the trough in a dark corner. Morad, Ghodrat, and Abbas knelt and began to work at clearing a spot of the dirt and rubbish that carpeted the floor of the stable. The lighter dust rose in the air and floated in circles visible in a shaft of light that penetrated the space from a crack in the door. They stopped once a space was clear and an even surface was ready. Salar Abdullah’s son shut the door and Abbas enthusiastically began taking out the bajal pieces from his pocket, tossing them into the playing surface.
“Come on! Gather around!”
Salar Abdullah’s son, Jalil, sat back on the edge of the trough and was squinting with his left eye at the bajal pieces on the floor. He was hesitating and acting cautiously. But Hamdullah, who, with his big head and bulging eyes, bore a passing resemblance to his crazy Uncle Moslem, thought it would indicate weakness to act hesitantly before the others. So instead, he came forward more quickly than anyone else sitting at the edge of the prepared space and began tossing the bajal pieces casually into the air. The pieces would fall onto the soft soil of the stable, and Hamdullah made as if he was prepared to be the dealer of the game. He collected the pieces and said, “Okay?!”
Abbas looked at Jalil and said, “Get up and come here! Why are you dragging your feet?”
Jalil replied, “You play a round. I’ll come.”
Morad said, “Don’t be a baby. Come over here! A man needs to be confident and sure of himself!”
Jalil said, “You guys play a round. Just start without me.”
Hamdullah said, “I’ll throw the pieces. Are we playing wolves?”
Ghodrat spoke as if from experience, “Or do you want to play a three-piece game?”
Abbas said, “It’s up to you. You decide.”
Morad said, “I don’t mind. I’ll play either.”
Abbas looked at Hamdullah and said, “The three-piece game is pretty complicated. With two three-goats you’re completely done for. The game can be over before it’s even begun.”
Jalil spoke up from beside the trough.
“Four-pieces. Let’s play four. I won’t play a three-piece game.”
Morad said, with a laugh in his voice, “However we play, your hands will be shaking, o son-of-the-village-lord!”
Hamdullah looked back toward the trough and said, “You get up then! What are you dragging your feet for?”
Abbas collected the pieces from the dirt and said, “Let’s play wolves then, okay? Here we go, one round of wolves. Everybody take a bajal piece and toss it. Whoever has the highest one will deal.”
Each of the boys took a piece and flipped it in the air. Morad had the highest one, and Abbas collected the pieces and set them before him. Morad looked at Jalil and said, “If you want, you and I can do it over. You might get the higher one … eh? I don’t want you complaining later! If you don’t want us to do it over, then you have to sit and play a round and wait for the deal to go a full round.”
Jalil said, “Now just deal, will you?”
Morad laid out the pieces before himself, lining them up in a row. He arranged them and then took the “wolf” piece in between his fingers, telling Abbas, “Ante in!”
Abbas changed his place with Hamdullah, saying, “I can’t see a thing here. You sit with your back to the door. From here, I can only see outside.”
Hamdullah jingled the coins that he was holding loosely between his two hands. He then separated his hands and made them into fists, lowered his right fist into the circle, and said, “I’ve anted in!”
The pieces fell into the circle. One had the wolf sign, and three others fell blank side up. Morad again arranged the pieces and said, “Ante in!”
“I’ve anted in!”
“Here, two signs showing. Now pay in.”
Hamdullah tossed two two-qeran coins at Morad’s feet.
“Ghodrat, your turn!”
Ghodrat lowered his fist into the circle, saying, “I’ve anted in!”
Morad tossed the pieces in the air and slapped his hand against his thigh. Ghodrat’s fist was below the pieces as they fell.
“Foul, do it again!”
Morad grumbled and rearranged the pieces.
“Right from the beginning, you’re messing things up! You’re a cheat like your cheating father. Okay, call it! You can’t shake me with your moves. Ante double!”
“I’ve anted in. My hand’s in!”
“Ante double!”
“I’ve anted. Just toss the pieces!”
“Nice one! Three horses!”
The pieces were on the ground. A full wolf hand!
“Pay in double!”
Ghodrat tossed in two five-qeran coins.
Morad said, “Let’s see the other hand.”
Ghodrat opened his left fist; there was one five-qeran coin stuck to his left thumb.
“Accepted?”
“Accepted.”
Ghodrat said, “Don’t go saying anything bad about me!”
Abbas held his fist into the circle, and Morad smiled as he said, “Well, well … watch as I give you a set of four pieces with signs!”
Abbas pursed his lips and squeezed them together, not saying anything. His face was pale, and as was usual, the corners of his lips were trembling. When Abbas joined a game, he would change entirely. A kind of terror would take hold of him. His heart would pound and his eyes would bulge. If he won, he would scream with joy, and if he lost he would still scream. He was clumsy and awkward. It seemed as if he were trying to eat the anted coins with his eyes. For Abbas, nothing seemed as exciting as when the money in play would be collected in his pocket. But since that never happened, he was always unsatisfied. Morad, who knew Abbas’ nature well, tossed the pieces up once, called a foul, and set them out again just to wind him up.
“Okay, ante in!”
Abbas, whose fist had remained clenched at the edge of the circle, said in a trembling voice, “I’ve anted!”
Two pieces with signs came up, one of them a wolf.
Morad said, “You have to put in three times as much as your ante!”
Abbas opened his fist. It was empty! Morad clenched his teeth and sharpened his eyes.
“Are you trying to pull the rug out from under my victory? Fine. I’ll still win if we do it hundred more times. Ante up! I’m not worried!”
Abbas rose and said, “I’ll ante a ten shahi.”
As Morad rearranged the pieces, Abbas looked at Jalil and said, “Take my place a second while I go splash some water on my face. Come on! I’m the one who arranged for a place for you guys to play. I didn’t want to play in the first place!”
Morad said, “Come on. You ante for yourself, Jalil. Don’t be such a baby about the game.”
Jalil came over heavily and sat in Abbas place, saying, “Let me examine the pieces!”
Morad pushed the pieces over for him to test out. He separated the wolf piece.
“There’s lead in this piece; replace it!”
Rising to leave the stable, Abbas took the piece in question and put another one before Jalil, saying, “Even a bride isn’t so finicky before going out to her wedding! Is there anything else you would like from us?”