chapter sixteen, seventeen eighteen

8/9/2019 Chapter Sixteen, Seventeen Eighteen

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Chapter Sixteen

March 1982

It is unfortunate, Mr. Abedi, the guard said as he pulled a fresh pack of cigarettes from

his desk drawer, that your son can not seem to find his way onto an Iranian airplane.

Mixing in with the orders of stale smoke, sweating men and a faint trace of rosewater,

was a fresh coat of white paint. On three of the stark walls in the tiny room hung a too large

portrait of Ayatollah Khomeini. His dead eyes pounded through Abbass skull.

Abbas pulled his hands from the dark wood desk leaving his steaming imprint of fingers.

Sir, I am sure there is a reason.

Of course there is a reason! He is a vile traitor! Venom spat from the crooked, yellow

teeth. And we have grave concerns about the rest of yourchildren.

Leaning back in the chair, Abbas tried again for reason. Sir, my oldest son is a high

ranking officer in Irans Air Force. He is

The officer produced a manila folder from a stack on his desk. He opened the top cover

and lit a fresh cigarette. Baleh, lets look at this little family of yours. He produced a pile of

typed pages. Amirs a fine officer in our Air Force and it has been noted.

Abbas nodded, wiping sweat from forehead, and leaned slightly forward.

Taking a long drag, but then, he continued, we seem to run into some problems.

Some very significant problems. His cloud of smoke blew against Abbass face.

Im sure they are just Abbas reached out to touch a photograph, but the officer

pointed at him with his cigarette. Sit back.

Baleh sir.


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Now, Farah and her husband live here, but it seems both Rasha and Meri seem to have

just moved from Iran.

Abbas squirmed. With their husbandson business. Im sure they plan to return as

soon as the transactions arecompleted.

You seem so sure. I hope you are right. And then we have Mostafa. Interesting fellow.

I believe he is in this building as we speak.

Abbas pulled his lips in tight and held his breath.

Baleh, in fact, I will call and see if we can find him. He lifted the sticky receiver, spat

out several commands then dropped the phone into the cradle. Seems he may be busy.

Looking into the portrait hanging above the guard, Abbas muttered and narrowed his

eyes. The guard paused, but did not acknowledge what he saw.

Instead, he continued. Which brings us to Reza. A world champion wrestler. I actually

saw him myself at base. A gifted, tenacious young man. He shouldve been raised to bring pride

to his country. The officer stood, exposing his large belly wrapped in a dull, green uniform.

Not to humiliate us!

The door behind them opened and Mostafa landed with a thud on the cement floor. Abbas

reached for him, but Mostafa waved him off. He rose to one knee and limped to the second

wooden chair in front of the desk. His blood crusted hands rested on his thighs.

The officer sat and smirked. You must be Mostafa. Thank you for joining us. I was just

getting to know your family.

As he spoke, blood trickled from his swollen jaw. Always a pleasure to meet with the

Sepah.


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The officer snorted and crushed his cigarette into the overflowing ashtray. As I was

explaining to your father here, there are significant concerns about the loyalty of your family to

The Ayatollah Khomeini. He waved his hand to indicate the pictures surrounding them. So, let

me get to the point, he asked leaning forward and looking directly at Abbas, wheres Reza

and wheres Hassan?

With the bruised and swollen face of a boxer, Mostafa looked to his father and shook his

head. He turned to the officer. My father is a simple man. He will not know.

Lighting a new cigarette, he smiled. Perhaps you can enlighten us.

Mostafa gave a slight laugh. As you can see, I have been enlightening your friends here

for several hours. His cough produced a bloody mucus trail down his chin. Their whereabouts

is unknown to us.

The officer took a long puff and then returned to papers in front of him. I see. Well that

leaves a few daughters that can still be taught to respect the laws of The Ayatollah Khomeini.

Abbas and Mostafa looked to each other.

He shuffled through papers, sorted photographs, moved more papers. Ahh, here. We

have Soraya, Pari and little Mariam at seven. Mariam is probably still a bit too young for

marriage, but I can see beautiful children coming from your other daughters. First, we must find

the right husbands. Husbands who will teach these children to love and respect Iran. More

shuffling of papers and pictures. Baleh, Soraya. Ive noted a friend I have known for years

whose wife just passed away. Tragic sad event, but it may just work out well for your family.

His thick finger caressed the outline of her hair and neck while a smile of the wicked criss-

crossed his face.


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Abbas reflected the white of the walls caging him. Reaching a broken hand forward to

touch the photographs, Mostafa stuttered, Im sure we can work things out, to the laughter of

the officer who pulled them away under his dirty fingernails.

Mostafa, he chuckled. Surely you did not think we could simply forget your familys

insult to our great nation. We must be sure it does not happen again, and with the right

husbands, it will not. I will ensure they have the right husbands.

The door opened a second time and seemed to surprise the officer. He bolted from his

desk and saluted at attention. The Elite Unit Officer motioned for him to sit and move to the

right. He never looked to Abbas or Mostafa. Walking behind the desk, he bent left arm behind

his highly decorated uniform and spread the papers and photos with the other.

He looked to the officer. Are we discussing suitable husbands?

Baleh sir.

He looked to Abbas. Are these your daughters?

Baleh, baleh sir, he said with a shaking voice. These are my little girls.

Without looking up, Do you know where Reza and Ali are? the officer asked.

Mostafa answered, No sir. We do not.

The Elite Unit Officer gathered all the papers and photos into the file. He looked to his

subordinate. I will take it from here. You may go.

The door shut and leaving an empty echo in the room.

The Elite Unit Officer looked to Abbas and Mostafa. Weve never met. But you know

my son.

Abbas looked hard the facial features and breathed the word, Ali.


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The Elite Guard continued, You have six months to get your family out. After that, I

cannot help you. He tucked the folder under his arm and headed toward the door.

Mostafa shifted in his chair and wiped the blood from his chin. Sir, it is with great

appreciation we thank you for your help. As you know, it is increasingly difficult and expensive

to make these things happen and with our resources recently depleted under similar

circumstances

Alis father paused at the door, but did not look back. Six months Mostafa. Not a day

more.

***

In exchange for the help and safety, the four wrestlers agreed to an international news

conference to expose the tragic events happening in post-revolution Iran. They were first taken

for new clothes, shoes and a fine suit just for the conference.

Ali smiled at himself in the tailors full-length mirror. Damn Im handsome.

Oh ya, and smart, Saam countered. Just try not to say anything too stupid tomorrow.

These people are counting on us and we cant let them down.

Hey, Im the prized pig here. My experience gave them more information then you can

even fit in your walnut brain, Ali said.

Reza walked into the fitting room to gather the tail end of their constant bickering. He

couldnt help but grin at his childhood friend sizing himself up in the mirror. Reza held the

packages of his clothes and tucked his nose into the bag one more time to breathe in the scent of

new.


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He stood next to Ali. Okay prized pig, take that off and lets go. The drivers waiting

and I want to get my thoughts together before this conference, Reza said.

Ali went into the changing room. First, he sang. Then he shouted over the door. Think

all you want! The cameras will only be looking at me!

Just put your clothes on and lets go! Reza replied. I wonder if Farid will be able to

see this. Maybe I could try to call him, have him help me out with what to say.

The dressing room door burst open. Damn, Im still handsome.

The driver took them to their new apartment. Their mouths fell open as they looked wide

eyed at the clean walls, the nice furniture and the kitchen stocked with food.

Saam spoke first, Now this is a place to live. He turned to the driver. Thank you.

The driver nodded. Of course. Youre comrades and well take care of you. At the

bottom of the stairs will be a guard 24 hours and numbers by the phone for anything you need.

Please, get comfortable and Ill be back tomorrow to pick you up at 8 a.m. Get a good rest.

They ran their fingers over the furniture. Ali kept opening the stocked kitchen cupboards,

even the ones he had looked into many times already.

Ramin came from the back rooms. Theres one for each of us. And the beds are soft and

on a frame. No one spoke. Okay, well, Im going to the first one of the left and hang up my

clothes.

Walking to the kitchen, Reza smiled at Ali and then sat heavily in the chair. He reached

into his pocket and put the can opener on the table. A mist of tears replaced his smile.

Whats that for? Ali asked.

Reza only shook his head. Ali took the can opener and threw it in the trash.


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The next day the four wrestlers who defected from Iran six months earlier answered held

a press conference at the Plaza Espana hotel in Madrid. Reporters from all over the world asked

them questions about life in Iran after the revolution. They became almost celebrities after the

conference and were often recognized on the street. But they still couldnt get a Visa to come to

America.

Reza walked into the apartment just in time for dinner. Ali jumped from his seat,

grabbed Reza round the waist and spun him in a giant circle. Did you hear!?

No! Hear what? Whats the news?

Ali dropped his friend and took a deep breath. Ok, the five months here, theyve been

great!

Reza raised his eyebrows. Great, and three of the wrestlers Im coaching could compete

in the

Ya, ya. Thats interesting. But, think beautiful women. Think blonde hair. Think blue

eyes Ali drew the figure of a woman with his hands.

You finally got a date? Reza chuckled.

Ali looked serious and took a step back. I do. As a matter of fact, I have a date

OkayIm missing something.

Ali nodded his head. I have a date with the American Embassy. They said theyre

letting in a lot more Iranians starting next month for political asylum. Thats me and you. Were

going to be surrounded by the all the blonde haired, blue eyed babes

Seriously? And you have an appointment tomorrow? Who do I call? How can I get...


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Ali smiled and bobbed his head. And I made one for you too, my little dooste-man.

Butif you want to stay

Reza sat in a heap on the couch. Its been good here. I know Spanish, a lot better than

English.but the universities there are the bestI could go full time

Saam and Ramin had their appointments first. They came out with huge grins. Canada.

And then maybe the U.S., but first Canada. We leave in two weeks.

The crowded room of folding chairs held excited immigrants who buzzed about the

opportunities awaiting them. Reza walked in, his paperwork in order, and met with a large men

behind thick glasses. His office smelled of fine Italian leather, although Reza only saw old

furniture and piles of paper. Professor Mehdian would have loved this office. I wish, I wish

somehow I could let him know where I amwhere Im going.

The large man asked a few questions, mostly about wrestling and pounded paper after

paper with a huge stamp. Reza interrupted, excuse me, Sir. Am Iare you approving me for

the America?

Canada, son. Its on the same side of the ocean, he answered, without looking up from

his stamping.

I know that sir. I was told that Americas letting in a lot of.Iranians.

They are. Stamp stamp. Youre not one of them.

Reza shifted on his folding chair. Sir, if you could look into that a bit. My friend and I,

well, we were thinking of the Southern California state.

Whys that? Stamp


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Reza hesitated, uh, weve seen pictures of a lot of pretty girls. They all live in the

Southern California state.

He looked up from his stamping. Removing his thick glasses, he rubbed his face. Pretty

girls. We dont have pretty girls in Madrid?

I didnt mean that, Sir. My friend and I, weve been through a lot, and, well my first

priority is of course to go to the university and get a degree, but I thought I might as well

The large man chuckled. Are you one of the wrestlers I read about a couple of months

back?

Yes sir. There were four of us.

Leaning back in torn leather chair, the large man replaced his glasses and smiled. Took a

lot of guts to do that press conference.Okay, kid. Ill find a way to get you to the Southern

California state.

When Reza came out of the office, Ali had already been called in.

Reza danced through the streets all the way to his apartment. Saam had already called

home and Ramin was finishing his phone call. Rezas recent calls home had been short and a bit

bizarre, no one really wanting to talk much, but Reza understood the difficulty his situation had

presented to his family. Still, this exciting news was too good not to share.

He tried his sister Rasha. No answer. Meri. No answer. Dare he call home? Maybe just

a short call. Again, no answer. Have to try Farid. Several rings until his aunt answered, Allo.

Allo! Its me and I have

Speak quickly.

Okay, Ive tried to call my family, but theyve

Speak quickly.


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Aunt, I think Im going to America soon, please tell my family and tell them I will call

them

No, dont call them. Dont call here. I will tell them you are still safe.

Whats the matter? Has something happened to my family?

No, not yet. Do you remember your uncle in Paris?

Of course.

Here, write down his number and call him when you get to your America.

Ya, okay. Ive got a pen

Reza wrote down the number and hung up the phone. Saam and Ramin looked at him with

eyebrows raised. Everything alright?

Reza tucked the number into his pocket. I dont know. I wish I could talk to Mostafa.

Saam nodded. Hey, did you talk to Ali?

He was already in when I came out. He should be home by now.

The warm spring air gave way to a damp Madrid evening. The three celebrated with fine

Spanish wine, meat and cheese.

His heavy footsteps pounded up the stairs and the door flung open. Im screwed! Ali

called into the apartment. Swinging an empty bottle of wine, he looked with wild eyes around

the apartment, as if searching for someone hidden. At first, Reza hoped his was joking, but Ali

showed no sign of laughter.

Saam poured wine into the fourth glass. Come, sit, drink. Lets figure this

Didnt you hear me? Im screwed! They wont let me in! Ali slammed the door and

sat at the table. In one motion, he drained the glass and motioned for a refill.


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Reza knew this could be a long night. Who wont let you in? Southern California? That

takes some talking. I had to work the guy a little bit myself, but

Draining his second glass and motioning for a third, the whole friggn country! he

yelled. The whole damn United States of America is afraid to let Ali in. He drained his glass

and motioned for the next. Saam popped a new cork. Ali waited for his him to pour.

Apparently, my pooperworks shows Rev gaurdd duuuuuty and Im a damn specialized killer for

the man with the big, big beard.

Reza removed Alis wine glass, so Ali grabbed the bottle. Ah baleh. Lets take a looky

looky at your pooperwork, ah, says here you be a Sepah, ooooh myyyyy, that sounds important!

Swig from bottle, Ohh, a family business I see. Daddy too. Big strong daddy and his favorite

son Ali. He took a last long swig, wiped the red, dripping wine, and bellowed, Nooopeee, no

room for you types in our US of A.

Ali slept face first on the kitchen table. Saam made sure there were no pill bottles of any

kind in reach. Reza went to the Embassy first thing the next morning, but he was turned away

before he could even get near an office.

After days of pleading, Reza convinced Ali to try one more time. Weve come so far.

Just go in there and talk to them.

Ali fidgeted as the woman with red hair puffed on top of her head reviewed his file. The

gold chain of her pointed glasses glinted from the single bulb in the office. She continually

sighed and looked at the same papers over and over, as if hoping they would change. She finally

looked up. Im so sorry. There are rules, procedures. They are put into place by people who

seem to think they know what is best and I.I just have to follow them.


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Ali rested his head in hands, rubbing the fresh shave of his hair. He looked up. I know.

And I wish I could talk to those people and tell them, Im not like that. Thats why I left Iran.

Ive cooperated with the CIA when we first came here and gave them all the information I know.

Why would I do that if I was still loyal to the guard?

I see, she sighed. Well, thats not really noted in here. Do you remember who you

talked to?

Ali straightened his back and smiled. They dont give you their names.

I see. Well, let me send your file upstairs and we will see

Upstairs? Again? My files been upstairs three times now. Thats what I thought we

were going to talk about today. My friend leaves for the Southern California state in two days.

My other two friends are already in Canada. If Im such a danger, why leave me in Madrid?

The red haired lady scooped his papers into his file with a huff. Well, I dont know. Just

wait here. I will walk them upstairs myself and I will ask about this CIA thing. An agonizing

hour later, she came back and patted his hand with a smile.

The door opened to the tiny Southern Californian apartment and they stepped inside.

They fell on the floor, gripping their gut and laughing hysterically. Reza and Ali just tried to

pick up two Southern California beach beauties with the four English words they practiced so

hard on the plane. You like us men? Their first try didnt go so well.


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Chapter Seventeen

Summer 1983

Reza pulled on his blue and white Cerritos College wrestling team sweatshirt to take off

the a.m. chill. He looked out through the bulletproof glass of his gas station attendants booth to

check for headlights. All clear. Pulling the special quarter from his pocket, he twisted it with the

fishing line and spun it in the pay phone. Still no answer.

Its been three months since he and Ali arrived in Southern California. They secured

eight-hour jobs and became valued members on the Cerritos Community College wrestling team.

They signed up for two summer session classes and Reza planned to apply to Cal State Fullerton

in August to attend on a wrestling scholarship.

A customer pulled into his gas station, asked for 20 on 10 and handed Reza a wad of

bills. Still struggling with American currency and general conversations, he smiled, nodded and

pushed what he hoped were the correct buttons. When the car pulled out, and he tried the phone

number he had for Mostafa in Sweden.

His last conversations with Mostafa came from a Pakistan prisons payphone. Hassan

had been arrested crossing the border and locked in a cell of filth Reza couldnt bear to imagine.

Although Mostafa assured Reza he worked out a price for Hassans release and it would only be

a matter of days, Reza felt sick until he had heard Hassans voice a week later from Sweden.

Now, he tried to hear that voice again.

Three rings and his favorite voice. Allo!

Allo! Hassan! I miss you!


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Hassan bounced from foot to foot, a habit he kept from his months in prison. Rez!

Mostafas here! He said to keep it a surprise, but I couldnt! Hes not here right now, but hes

working to get everyone out.

Reza glanced to see oncoming headlights. Here? Everyone? Hassan. Stop and slowly

tell me everything.

Okay, I guess Amir and Farahs staying but

Staying where?

Honk! Honk!

In Iran. But Rasha and Meri, theyre not going back like they said and now Mostafas

here

When can I talk to him?

Honk! Honk!

I dont know. Mostafas got a student visa for me to come to the Southern California

place to be with you. Hes going to talk to you about a good time, and then hes got the

paperwork to get Naneh and Baba and the girls out too and he says

Reza held the phone in one hand and rubbed his face with the other. Okay. Okay, stop.

Just stop. Whens Mostafa coming back?

You know Mostafa. Nobody knows.

Honk! Honk! A voice leaned out of the station wagon. Hey! Who works here??

Ya, that sounds right, but I need to talk to him. Can you have him call me?

Ill ask him. I might be there next week. Next week Rez!

Reza held the receiver to the chest and hugged it with both arms. He tried to speak

without tears, youre going to love it here Hass, Reza said.


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Honk! Honk! I need some service! the station wagon yelled.

Ali and Reza arrived at LAX three hours early. On his twentieth trip to check the air

flight information, Ali grabbed Rezas arm. Stop. Hes coming.

I dont like airports, Reza said. I just want him to get here so we can go.

Oh, now I understand. If you keep checking the flight board, it makes the planes go

faster, Ali said.

What if the paperwork wasnt right and he got sent back to Pakistan?

What if the queen had balls, shed be king, Ali replied.

Asshole. But, Reza smiled. He changed to shifting in his seat until Ali smacked him on

top of the head with his folded newspaper. I knew I shouldve left you in the car.

Time pressed weights onto every fiber of Rezas being. When the plane finally pulled

into the gate, Reza didnt move. I cant feel my legs. Ali had to hoist up his friend. Hes here,

Reza.

He swallowed hard, but knew he would be unable to speak.

The doors cracked open and Reza had to steady himself against Ali. Faceless people

filed off and Reza feared that maybe Hassan had changed so much he missed him. Ali smiled.

No, theres a lot more people coming. Just rela..oh, there he is! Hassan! Hass!! Get over here

you rat!

Hassan had changed. Taller, thicker, with the facial features of a man. But still the same

smile Reza remembered every night in his dreams.


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The July heat seemed beautiful at the Pacific Ocean. Hassan and Ali walked into the

apartment, sticky with salt water and sand. Hassan collapsed on the couch, rolled his head back,

and soon dissolved into snores.

Ring! Ring!

Ali grabbed it quickly before it woke up Hassan. Allo

Allo. Ali?

Hey Mostafa. Rezas still at the library. Ill have him call

No, no. I need to talk to you. Wheres Hassan?

Asleep on the couch. We just got back from the beach. Man, its beautiful here. When

are you coming out? You have to see these girls. You do like girls dont you?

Baleh, I like girls. Hows Hassan?

Besides waking me up screaming every night, refusing to go on elevators and freakn

out every time someone pulls out car keys, hes fine. When do you want him back?

Back?! Nobodys coming back for a very long time. I dont even want you guys near

an airport! But, thats not why I called.

The serious tone in his voice made Ali pull the phone out to the patio and as far as the

cord would reach. He closed the slider.

Okay, whats up? Ali said.

When does Reza take his entrance exam for the university?

Two weeks. Hes studying so much my brain hurts. Why?

Okay, well wait until after hes taken them.

Pause

Mostafa, whats going on? What happened? Ali asked.


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A few painful ticks of silence and then Mostafa said, Nimtaj died. She, she just laid

down one night and never woke up.

Ali held the receiver to his chest and looked into the sky. He took a deep breath. Im so

sorry Mostafa. She was a good, good woman.

Baleh, she was. But I think with the reality of her leaving her Persia, she just had all she

could take. She died peacefully, thats all we can ask for.

Enshalla. How is Haj Abbas? The girls? Hows Soraya?

Everyones just holding on. Were doing everything to get the money for the proper

paperwork. If it wasnt for your father, wed have no

My father! Mymy father? Ali leaned against the wall.

Baleh, Ali, your father used his rank to get us an additional six months. Without that

time.I cant even think about what would have happened to the girls, and Im still not as

prepared as I need to be but. Ali? Ali?

Ya, ya. Im here.

Okay. You know the plan, right? Just wait till Rezas done with his exams and

Hassans, well, hes touch and go. As long as Rezas there when you tell him, he should be

alright.

Ive got it handled. He looked back to Hassan. Again, Im so sorry.

Thanks.

The large white envelope jumped out at Reza when he opened the mailbox. His name

typed on the front, the CSUF emblem stamped on the upper left hand corner. Out of habit, he

looked to the roof as if the roof was the only place he could open such important documents.


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Instead, he went inside and sat on the dirty gold couch they had discovered in a nearby dumpster.

Ali walked in from the bedroom. Whats that?

Reza held it up to show the CSUF seal.

Well, open it.

I cant.

Ali reached to grab the envelope and the two wrestled across the floor. Hassan jumped

on top of them and they rolled into a tangled, sweating mass.

Reza pulled himself out from the bottom and sat back on the couch. He tore it open:

accepted.

The three jumped and hollered and danced in crazy circles. Ali walked into the kitchen

and splashed cold water on his face. Returning, he took a huge breath. You guys need to sit

down.

Reza tried to comfort his friend. Youll get in on scholarship next semester Ali. And

they said you can still work out with the team and

Ali sat on the floor. He rubbed his hand on the faded Persian Rug they had found at a

garage sale for ten bucks. It seemed to calm Hassan down, but now Ali needed its strength. He

traced the patterns with his finger and tried to steady his breathing. Reza and Hassan sat next to

him. Reza stopped Alis hand. What? Just say it?

He lifted his face and looked into Rezas. Your Nanehsheshe passed away.

Silence.

Ali continued, peacefully. Mostafa called and said she passed away in her sleep. Im so

sorry.

Reza collapsed to the floor and held his head with hands, rocking from side to side.


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Hassan sprang to his feet and pulled his hair with both hands. No! No! No! No she

cant be! She isnt! Its a rumor! Its a!

Ali rushed to him. Its okay. Youre okay, just here, come sit and

No! Please no! Hassan screamed. Ali pulled Hassans flailing body into to his and

held him. With a final struggle, Hassan became limp in his arms. Ali looked to Reza who

continued to rock in the timeless space of grief. But, Hassan had no response.

Ali carried Hassan into the bathroom, set him in the tub, and let the cool shower water

wash over him. Still, nothing. From the main room, Reza cried out for his mother. Naneh!

Naneh! I got in! Im going to college! ImIm Naneh, oh please god let me talk to her,

please one more timeplease, let me hug you, let me see you, please Naneh, please dont leave

us, not now, please. Sobbing shook the mighty warrior.

Glancing at Hassan lying in the tub, Ali looked to the phone and considered dialing 911.

He snapped his finger on Hassans cheek and forehead. Finally, he turned off the water and laid

him on the bed. Reza came into the room and collapsed next to his brother.

Im so sorry Reza, Ali said. I really am.

Reza nodded his head and wiped his face on the pillow. He looked at Hassan. What

happened?

I dont know, Ali said. I almost called 911.

Reza felt his heart beat and shallow breath. Hes in shock. He pulled Hassans body

into his. And he cried.

Winter, 1983


20/48

The early winter sky hung heavy over the battered city of Tehran. Aunt Banou dumped a

large bag of bras and underwear on her bed. I hope this will be enough, she said to herself.

Pulling out a tobacco box from under a loose floorboard, she removed gold rings and her

collection of alangoo. She felt the sides of the bras, until she settled on cups center. Cutting,

stitching, measuring, more cutting, she sewed all of her gold jewelry into the undergarments

piece by precious piece.

A knock on the door. Her hands froze. More knocking, quick, insistent.

She walked to the door and whispered into the crack, Allo?

Open up. Zood Bash.

Whos this?

Mostafa. Please, open

She pulled open the door and he stepped inside. Is it ready?

Baleh, but let me fix you a plate. You must be so hungry. She started toward the

kitchen.

Mostafa shook the snow off his boots and hung his coat on the hook. Thank you, I do

have a few minutes.

Watching her exhausted nephew devour each morsel she asked, Can you stay here

tonight? Sleep in a warm bed? I can fix you breakfast in the morning and

No, I have to move at night. He scrapped the plate with his fork and she took it to the

kitchen.

She heaped more food onto his plate. Have you talked to Reza lately?


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Mostafa smiled. A few times. He and Ali are wrestling on a scholarship for a university

and Rezas at the library most times I call. Hes really happyjust so excited to go to the

university.

Of course, we all knew that. She handed him the plate. And Hassan? Bless that poor

boy.

When I talk to him, hes seems like Hassan, but Rezas says there are difficult times.

Mostly at night.

She nodded her head and walked to the window. The crisp white snow seemed so out of

place in the darkened city. So tonight?

Mostafa again scrapping his plate, answered, Baleh, it has to happen tonight.

She picked up his dish. Another helping? I know its not Thursday, but it is still special

so I made halva. I made it just the way your mom would.

That would be.it would be perfect. Thank you.

She returned with his dessert. How are the girls?

Scared. Sad. Confused. Like the rest of us, I guess. He dove into the pastry. Thank

you. This is the best meal Ive hadwell, in a long while.

Mostafa, where would we be without you? She paused and clasped her hands together.

You really grew into the best image of your father and youre such a blessing the way you have

learned his ways ofknowing people.

Mostafa nodded.

She patted his hand. And youre sure this is going to work?


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He took a drink of chai, and sat back. No, Im not sure about anything. My people,

theyve all left, been imprisoned, or.or been executed. He sighed and then tried to look

hopeful, but, I know no one will touch the undergarments. That Ive seen myself.

Theres plenty in there to sell to get everyone to Belgium. Im so glad Rasha and Meri

are there already. She refilled his cup with more hot chai.

It is only the passage through Turkey that worries me. Once we get them through

Istanbul and Austria, its easier to move from Germany to Belgium. Mostafas tired eyes

looked across the room. We just cant get stuck in Austria.

She took his plate to the kitchen for more dessert, but Mostafa insisted he needed to go.

Ill just take the backpack, please.

Nodding, she went into the bedroom and returned. Its all in here. Should be worth

more than enough to get everyone out.

How can we thank

No need, please, no need. Just get the family out of this horrible place.

***

December 1983

Wheres Hassan? Reza asked Ali as he slid next to him on the metal bench in the

dugout.

Cant you see him? Hes the one hopping from foot to foot in center field, Ali said.

Wheres a center field? asked Reza.


23/48

The Cal State Fullerton wrestling teams weekend softball-sloshball game featured burley

wrestlers, a beer keg at second base and special guests from three Sorority houses.

Ali pointed, but not to Hassan. Look, those are called dolphin shorts. They come in

stripes and solids and they are the most beautiful things Ive ever seen.

Reza grinned. I like the stripes.

Smacking his friend upside the head, and youve been home studying and missing all

this! he chided.

Finals next week. But, this is a good break.

A teammate ran to the bench. Abedi, youre up!

Reza turned in slight panic to Ali. Up?

Handing a bat to Reza, the teammate continued, Ya! Up! Get up to the plate.

Reza still looked baffled and Ali began laughing. Reza took the bat, figured out which

end to use, and stood at home plate. Somewhere, Journeys Dont Stop Believing blasted from

a boom box. The players in the inn field had a mitt in one hand and a red plastic cup in the other.

The pitcher, with her ponytail in a blue scrunchie, leaned across the mound showing her cleavage

under the cut sweatshirt and tossed the ball. The ball went past Reza. He didnt move; he didnt

take his eyes off the pitcher. A roar of good-natured laughter broke out and a Sorority sister

bounced out of the dugout to help Reza. Reza turned to Ali and shouted, Dolphin shorts! to

more laughter.

This time, Reza hunched over his new partner and together they hit the ball. Except Reza

ran to third base. Halfway to first, the dolphin shorts turned around to see Reza standing at third

and looking genuinely confused. She walked over, held his hand, and led him to first base, to

everyones applause. When the next batter hit the ball, Reza scooped up his partner, ran to


24/48

second and poured beer over them both. The next batter hit a foul tip, but Reza again scooped up

his girl and this time didnt stop until he hit home plate. Spinning her around so the beer

splashed from her red cup, he declared Now, were safe!

The college kids, from both benches, stood and gave Reza a standing ovation.

He returned with his signature grin and sat beside Ali. Great game, this slosh softball.

Youre an idiot, he said with laughter.

Maybe, but I think she likes me.

Ali smiled at his friend. Shes not drunk enough yet.

Stretching his arms to the bright blue sky, Reza took in a beautiful breath and turned to

his friend. I dont care. I love this country. I love this stupid game with its stupid bats and

stupid little balls. I love this sky. I love this Abba Zabba wrapper stuck to my leg. And I love

knowing I will still kick your ass every day of the week.

Easy big guy. All this love is making me horny.

The three returned to their apartment in a fine mood. Ali dropped on the bed and Hassan

lay next to him. Two minutes, they were fast asleep. Reza pulled notebooks from his backpack

and spread them across the table. Sitting down with a sharpened pencil, he bent over his work.

Ring! Ring!

He looked at the clock; it would be too late for anyone from Sweden to call. Maybe its

dolphin shorts.

Ring! Ring!

He answered, Allo..

Reza? Oh thank god. We need your help.


25/48

Soraya? Soray? Whats wrong? Why are you crying? Slow down and talk to me

Sobbing, Reza, theyve taken everything. We have no money, no way to buy food, no

way to Soraya cried.

Reza sat on the floor, leaning his back to the wall. Where are you? Wheres Baba? Can

I talk to Mostafa?

Istanbul. Mostafa got us to Istanbul and they were suppose to take us to all the way

through Germany, but then Baba found these people who he thought needed

help...(sobbing)oh God, Reza, they stole everything!..(sobbing)we cant go back therewe

cant live here without paperworkwe have no way to

Listen to me. Youve got to calm down. Where is Baba?

Hes not well Reza. Since Naneh passed, he just sleeps and

Wheres Mostafa?

Soraya took a deep breath. Mostafas out trying to find smugglers, but without money I

dont know what well have to do to get over through the borders. She paused. Reza, its not

good to be girls here without money.

Reza dropped the phone and rubbed his face. He took a deep breath and picked up the

receiver. Okay, dont worry. Ill, he paused. He squeezed his eyes and rolled his head back.

Ill come there and Ill get you out.

She sobbed for several seconds, unable to speak. Finally, she whispered, Mostafa told

us not to call you. That it would too dangerous for you. They might even be watching us for

you.

Reza stood and paced as far as the cord would go. Youve got to calm down. They

wont catch me. Who has your address?


26/48

Rasha, she said, sniffing. She knows where we are. Shes the only one.

Hassan had woken up and Ali came out from the bedroom.

Listen, youre going to be okay. Im taking you to Rashas. Just, stay together. Tell

Mostafa not to do anything until I get there. Do you understand?

Baleh.

Reza hung up the phone and slammed his fist through the wall. Ali grabbed his arms and

pinned his flailing body to the ground. When Rezas voice and breathing became normal, Ali

released his friend and sat beside him on the floor.

Reza retold the conversation and Hassan blurted, Im going too.

Reza shook his head. Stay here with Ali.

At least I have a Visa, Hassan said. You have nothing and cant even board a plane.

Ali stood and paced the room. I heard Jose talking at practice about Visas and friends

who need paperworkwith my student loan money for next semester, we could

Martinez? The heavy weight? Reza asked as he looked at the clock. Hed be at

practice now.

Returning hours later, Reza seemed encouraged by conversation with Jose. In three days

time, Reza would have a valid American Visa with his picture and the name Jose Martinez.

Maybe here youll pass for Mexican, no way in Turkey, Ali said. Theyll know youre

Iranian the second you step off the plane. And what if you have to speak in English? Youre

faking a Mexican accent. No way.

Im going to get them. Baba cant take care of them and you know what happens to

girls with no money, Reza stopped and leaned into Ali. They get sold.

Mostafa would never let that happen and.


27/48

Theyre in Turkey! Whats Mostafa know in Turkey?

Ali looked at Reza. Maybe I should go. If theyre looking for you, they wont be

expecting me and I could

Reza shook his head. I know, but Ive got to go.

The mountains in Turkey are too hard for Baba, Hassan said. His face whispered

memories he tries to banish. And the girls. In the snow. Even if they make it to Vienna, you

cant go from Austria into Germany without

Why are you telling me this? I know this! I know.Ill figure out a plan on the

planeI Ive got to find a wayIve got to.

***

Ali and Hassan pulled up to the terminal and Reza got out. He looked into the car. I

hate airports.

Ali smiled. Have a great trip Jose. Call us.

Speaking only Spanish, Reza made his way through the terminals and landed in Belgium.

He recognized Rasha right away and hugged his nieces and nephews. Meri met them at the

house and they talked, laughed and cried long into the night.

The morning reminded them of Rezas purpose. Rashas husband, Habbib, sat Reza

down at the table. Here are all the families passports. Mine, Rashas, the kids and all of Meris

family. You can sell them to smugglers in Turkey for safe passage for the family.

Reza gathered the stack and flipped through them. Thank you. Will you be okay

without

Baleh, of course. Were not going anywhere. In a few weeks, we can go to the embassy

and say weve lost them and they will make us new ones. But, he waited until he had Rezas


28/48

eye, they will search all your luggage. If they find these, youre a smuggler and youll go to

Turkish prison.

Reza tried to grin. I just saw Midnight Express, so Ill not put them in the luggage.

And they will pat you down at airport. In Istanbul, they know Iranian from Arab

fromwhat are you? Spaniard? Habbib asked.

Kinda, Im a Mexican from the U.S.

Not in Turkeyin Turkey youre runaway Iranian with a false passport. Again, they

will pat you down, and if they find the passports, youre a smuggler and they will take you to

jail. If you even get that far, if they havent seen youre not a US Mexican.

Rasha walked in and froze at Rezas pale face. Habbib, what are you telling Reza?

Habbib reached over and patted Rezas hand, The truth.

Habbib pulled in front of the terminal and gave Reza last words of advice. Although a

fresh layer of snow covered the ground, Reza sweat from every pore. He turned to thank Habbib,

but he could only open his mouth; no words would come through.

Habbib patted his back. Go get your family.

The plane landed in Turkey.

Rezas fingers slipped off the buckle. The stewardess reached over to help him. No!!

He yelled and then fumbled in Spanish. Sorry, II got it. Just stuck.

She walked down the aisle and said something to another steward. She knows.

Rezas body moved with underwater motions. Every face looked at him to say, Youre

not Jose. Youre going to prison.


29/48

Willing his body to move, he came down the ramp and stood in line for the pat down. He

focused on just the next breath. Breathe. Breathe.

Im next. He watched the searching routine. Sides, butt, legs. He tried to press his thighs

together to squeeze the passports further under his groin. One edge caught the side of his pants.

Can they see it? Theyll feel it for sure. Im..breathe breathe

The Turkish guard looked at Rezas passport, at his face, back at his passport.

He knows. Im going to Midnight Express.

Martinez?

Si.

Step over here. Arms crossed over your head. Legs spread.

The passports felt like 2x4s with jagged edges sticking out in every direction. Every

guard seemed to whisper to each other and look at Reza. They are just waiting. They are

playing me.

Martinez

Reza stood frozen.

Martinez!

Oh Si!

The guard looked to his passport again. Are you Martinez or are you not Martinez?

A short breath, Si, Senor, Si Martinez.

He handed Reza his passport and pointed to wall. Wait there.

Reza nodded and moved toward the wall. As the guard picked up the phone, a large

woman came to ask him directions and when he looked back to the wall, Reza was gone.


30/48

Reza pulled his head out of the toilet and flushed the vomit. Splashing cold water in his

face, Reza regrouped to exit the airport. He imagined hundreds of Turkish guards swarming the

corridors for the Iranian Martinez.

Almost blind with fear, he pushed through the crowds and did not look up until he could

no longer hear the noises of the airport. He squeezed his eyes closed and slowly pushed his face

up into the falling snow. Thank you Naneh.

Chapter Eighteen

December 1983

All day, he knocked on doors inquiring about the smudged address in his pocket. Using

every scrap of language and hand signal he could invent, he asked and asked and asked. Each

face darkened when he said, old man traveling with four young girls. Oh no, they would

say, thats not good here.

At the end of dirty alley, he saw the back of a young girl. Her dark hair covered in a

brown scarf, her movements like Nimtajs. Reza ran to the little figure calling her name.

Soraya! Soraya!

The little girl turned around; it wasnt Soraya, but she ran to him with all her might. She

jumped into Rezas arms. Reza! You came!

Reza held her, hugged her, kissed her. Mariam! Youve grown taller! I didnt recognize

my baby sister! Oh god, youre beautiful!

Her set her down and knelt before her to take in every inch of her face. She reached to

his cheeks and brushed his tears away.


31/48

When they could not cry or talk anymore, the family slept in a heap on the floor. The

morning brought a fresh storm and renewed energy. Mostafa, Abbas and Reza piled all the

money and passports into the center. Mostafa gave the final total. That should be enough, if we

find the right people.

Reza looked to his brother. How do we do that? Who are the right people?

Its not easy anymore Reza. Ive found a certain alley in town where these people

gather. Were sending the worst possible cargo.

Cargo?

Teenage girls. They have more value, to some kinds of people, than anything we have

here. He motioned to the pile with his hand.

Abbas shook his head. I will not let that happen.

Mostafa, arent you going with them? Reza asked.

Mostafa took in a deep breath. No, my wifeyou have not met her but my wife is in

Iran and she ispregnant with our first child.

Rezas eyes bugged out. Wife! Pregnant! Child! Well, Im happy for you Mostafa, I

guess.

Mostafa smiled. Thanks, I guess. She wont be able to travel for some time, even after

the baby, so I must go back to Iran as soon as this is taken care of.

Reza flipped through the pile on the table again, as if hoping something would be

different this time. He looked at his brother. Then I should through the mountains too, he said.

No, Mostafa answered, we cant risk it. Youll fly back to Belgium and wait at

Rashas for Baba to call. Then you drive to pick them up from where they are in Germany and

take them back.


32/48

That sounds too easy. The checkpoints from Germany to Belgium should not be a

problem, but what if they dont make there? What if they get stuck in Austria, what if.

Reza! Baba said. This is the best plan if Mostafa says it is. Soon as were on our

way through Turkey, youll fly back to Rashas and wait for us to call. There are no other

options.

Baleh Baba. Ill wait for your call. He looked to Mostafa. Lets go find our

smugglers. And they better be good, because its a long way to Germany.

The black water oozed down the crease in the broken sidewalk. Crusty grey snow

formed jagged piles on the burned cars and sewage that lined the alley. Mangy dogs limped

through trash, pulling out pieces of rotting flesh stuck to old bones. The smells brought Reza

back into the ambulance with Kahn.

Mostafa knew enough Turkish and moved like a reaper from thug to thug. Reza

followed, trying to avoid the shifty eyes and nasty yellow grins. I will not leave my sisters with

any of these people. There has to be another way.

Without warning, five blackened fingernails rested on Rezas shoulder. He spun around

and shot into a wrestlers stance.

The man spoke, Ah, I thought it was you. Hows America Abedi?

Mostafa stood next to Reza. We dont know any Abedi.

Bullshit. I wrestled myself in the home country. Your brother here, he wrestled in

Worlds and then didnt come home from Venezuela. The man pulled a package of hand rolled

cigarettes and offered them to the brothers. Smoke?

No.


33/48

He struck a match. I never forget a face.

Mostafa said, and I never forget a favor. Since you are in this alley, you must be able to

help people in our situation.

The man nodded and blew smoke into the dirty air. I know people. People who travel

by night and rest by day. Are these people you need?

We are sending our sisters, Mostafa paused. Our younger sisters.

The bright orange tip of his cigarette cut into the night as he took a long, slow drag. I

see. That will cost more to keep themsafe.

Im going with them, Reza said. He swung his arms in a circular motion and stomped

his feet in the filthy snow. He turned to Mostafa. Baba cant protect them. And you know what

happens to girls

Mostafa held up his hand to Reza and looked to the smuggler. Tell us about these

people, this passage.

These people, they do what they are paid to do. You need to get to Belgium? That is

many days. We would start tomorrow night and sleep each day in a house known by my people

to be safe. One day in Bulgaria, one in Romania, one in Hungary, then to Austria, Germany,

Holland and to Belgium. He smashed his cigarette. My people are the best at what they do.

Reza grabbed the smuggler by the arm. What do they do? Do they sell people or do

they smuggle them?

Gently pulling Reza back, Mostafa said, they do what they are paid to do. We will be

sure there is a price to guarantee safe passage.


34/48

Of course, the smuggler said. I only negotiate safe passage. And Reza, your brothers

right. Its too dangerous for you. Your safety, I could not guarantee. Tell your sisters to

dressplainwith thick clothes and keep their eyes down andthey will be safe.

Mostafa and the smuggler talked in low tones with much gesturing. Lighting his third

cigarette, the smuggler nodded, shook Mostafas hand and then kissed him three times on the

cheek. Reza winced. He joined them and looked hard at the man who had just kissed his

brother. My sisters will be safe. Because I will find you if they are not. And I will tear out

your heart.

When Mostafa and Reza returned to the flat, Soraya opened the door. Its Mariam.

Now what?

Worry and sadness leapt from her eyes. She stammered, the tall dresserit fell on her

foot. We think its broken and Baba took her the hospital.

Is she okay? Reza asked.

Soraya looked down. She is, But we had to use some of the money. Im sorry, I should

have been watching her, I

Reza took Soraya and hugged her. Were almost there.

***

Ring! Ring!

Ali and Hassan jumped for the phone.

Allo!

Allo Ali. Are you still ugly?


35/48

Ill never be as ugly as you. He laughed. When are you coming home?

Soon, Reza answered. Im just waiting for them to call me.

Swatting Hassan away from the phone, Ali continued, how did you get them out of

Turkey?

Money. Smugglers, Reza sighed. Its sketchy. And Baba doesnt look well. He

coughs and lookslooks sad all the time.

And Soraya? Ali asked, giving Hassan a wink and a grin.

Shes not marrying you! Reza bellowed. And shes fine. At least, I hope shes

fineonce they get through the mountains and through Austria, it should be over.

Theyll make it.

Enshallah. Hows Hassan?

Ali looked at Hassan. He doesnt like dolphin shorts. Here, talk some sense into him.

Hassan grabbed the phone. Reza! Hows everyone? Do they look strong?

Reza struggled to speak without tears. They look great. Everyones healthy and they all

say hello.

Hassan tried to respond, but he handed the phone to Ali and started to weep.

Hassan! Are you Reza said.

Relax Reza. Hes in one of his crying spells. Hell be okay.

Please, please watch him. He has to

Reza, I got it here. Take care of your family, Ali said.

I wish I could. I wish they were all right here with me. Reza took a deep breath, I have

to go.

Hey, be careful doost-e man.


36/48

Reza rubbed his eyes with his fingertips.

Ali said, you there Reza?

Barely, he replied.

Ali lowered his voice, Pahlavan, he said.

Two days became four. Four days became six. And still no word. Reza, Rasha and

Habbib paced and paced. They took round-the-clock shifts sitting next to the phone. Each time

the phone rang, hearts stopped and they bolted for the receiver.

4 a.m. It rang. Sorayas voice spoke from the other end. Please,.please, she

coughed, please tell Reza to come get us.

Where are you? Are you together? Is everyone okay?

Reza and Habbib rushed into the room.

Soraya wept and Abbas took the phone. Were somewhere different. They took us into

the mountains and pointed, go that way they said. And now, Pari is too sick to walk and

Soraya had to carry Mariam, shes so weak, and.

Baba, please, can you tell us anything about where you are? Rasha asked.

He called to Soraya. Come here and read these words so Reza can find us.

Rasha wrote the address and gave the phone to Reza. Im on my way! he said. Stay

there. Im leaving right now.

He headed to the door and Rasha grabbed his arm. They didnt make it. Theyre in

Vienna.


37/48

Reza froze. Didnt makeViennawhy didnt.how can I. He stumbled through

his words. In Austria! I knew I should have gone! I knew it!

Just sit a minute, Habbib said. Before you go rushing off in the car, we have to piece

this together.

I know I can get from here to Vienna with my American Visa, Reza said, still facing

the door. And I can just put them in the car, and hope we dont get stopped at an Austrian

checkpoint and

And if you do, Habbib interrupted. Drive through alone and have them walk through

with the crowds. They have a better chance of blending in and then you can meet them after the

checkpoint.

Nodding his head, Reza asked, What about a road from Austria into Germany without a

checkpoint? How can I find that?

Find a smuggler, Habbib answered. But I dont think youll need one. Youll just

need some luck through the checkpoints.

Reza took the sack full of supplies Rasha had ready at the door and jumped into the car.

He sped into the night to rescue his family in Vienna, Austria.

At sunset, Reza pulled up to the address that Rasha had scribbled.

He pounded on the shabby motel door.

Baba! Soray

Abbas opened the door. Reza walked in and took one look at the emaciated family.

Were going. Right now. Baba, where are your bags?

Abbas looked blankly at his son. We have only two. Thats all I could carry.


38/48

Fine, where areoh, I see. Grab Mariam. Pari, can you walk?

She stood and collapsed to the floor. Reza scooped up her hot flesh and laid her in the

back seat.

He sped down the icy roads. The girls slept in the back, but Abbas stared through the

crusted windshield. You need to rest Baba. You should close your eyes.

He spoke without moving, No.

We have the checkpoint to go through, so you need to rest now.

Abbas shook his head. When we are in Germany, I will rest.

Reza pulled into a gas station for a final fill up. He came around to the passenger

window. Baba, I need you to give me all your passports and anything that has your name.

Everyone needs to be clean.

Clean?

Clean. No names, no pictures in case we get stopped.And they send you back to

Turkey.

Abbas dug through his pockets and handed Reza the paperwork. Reza parked behind the

gas station. Quickly, he pulled off the back speakers and stuffed the documents under the

fiberglass. Please dont let them search the car.

A sleepy voice, Reza, what are

Shh, go back to sleep. Just being careful.

They pulled into the line of cars at the checkpoint. Reza peered out of the car and saw

the German officers pointing flashlights into every car in the line. Damn. I was hoping theyd

just wave us through. He pulled over and turned to Abbas. Youll have to walk the girls


39/48

through. Blend in with the crowds. I will drive alone, park two kilometers after the check point

and meet you.

Abbas nodded. They woke up the girls, but Soraya protested. Pari and Mariam cant

walk. Just leave them in the car.

We cant. It wont look right. If they see just one man, they wont stop me.

Soraya started to speak when Abbas said, Listen to Reza. Everybody out. Faces down,

blend in. He lifted Pari into his arms. Mariam hobbled with the help of Soraya.

After passing through the checkpoint, Reza pulled over and waited. He closed his eyes

for a few minutes of rest.Please let them through. He awoke to screaming sirens and banging on

his windshield. Get out!

What? Im doing nothing wrong? I cant rest? Reza said.

Get out! was the answer.

Reza found himself face down on the frozen hood, unable to keep up with the German

policemans questions.

Open the trunk.

Im not opening the trunk. I havent done anything, Im..

Holding his gun to Rezas head, Open.

The policeman pulled out bras and blouses and turned to Reza. Youre a smuggler.

Reza sat in the jail cell weaving every lie and story he could imagine. The German

officer ran the false passport, it came up clean, but he still wasnt convinced. In the midst of his

arguing, Reza heard the voices of Soraya and Mariam and he froze. If they show they know me,

Im caught.


40/48

He turned his back when they walked by and Abbas understood. In Farsi, he quickly told

the girls to not acknowledge Reza. Abbas carried Pari and set her on the bench.

Hours of questioning followed.

Finally, Abbas grabbed the guards hand and held it to Paris forehead. If she does not

get medical attention, she will die!

The guard took his hand away. He said, in the morning you will go to a Processing

camp. Theyll have doctors there.

Abbas yelled, No! Morning is too late! You have physicians here! Call one!

The guard replied, it is 2am. There are no doctors here.

Abbas roared through cement cells. She will not last the morning! She how she

breathes! She will not last the hour!

Reza stood to tell the guards the truth, but Mariam cried, please, please get a doctor for

my sister.

Hearing the commotion, a sergeant came from his office down the hallway. He said,

call a doctor for gods sake and then send them on the first bus to the camp.

Reza collapsed in his cell. The guard peered through the bars. Day after next is

Monday. When the Embassy opens, we will find out who you are, Jose.

Saturday afternoon brought a shift change. This prison guard looked like he enjoyed

food above all else. Wiping mustard from his face, he handed Reza a bratwurst sandwich and

flipped through his file. He asked, What are you doing here?

Reza took a bite. I dont know. I was just sleeping in my car and here I am.

No charges?


41/48

Nope. Passport came back clean.

Well, hell. Im not dealing with your paperwork. He unlocked the door. See ya.

Reza stepped outside in a snowstorm. He walked around the station. Wheres my car?

He went back inside. Whered you park the car?

The guard swallowed the last bite of Bratwurst. About ten kilometers. Uphill. That

way. He said, pointing a chubby finger to the left.

Uphill. Reza arrived at the car lot and walked into the station. A sleepy-eyed guard

looked up. Dont drip your snow in here. It puddles.

Reza stomped his feet, shaking snow onto the floor. Im here for my car. Please give me

the keys and Im gone.

The guard sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. Ill check your car. If its clean

you can have it. Follow me.

Not wanting to take his gloves off in the snow, the guard handed the keys to Reza to open

the car.

The guard searched the car and paused at the girls clothes. Whats this?

Reza hesitated, Sisters. They borrow the car, sometimes.

The wind kicked up a fresh snow flurry and the guard covered his face with his gloves.

Just go, he said. Im not messing with your paperwork.

Five days. Driving along every road he could find, marked and unmarked, Reza could

not find safe passage to get his family out of the processing camp in Vienna and into Germany

without passing through a border checkpoint. Roads that didnt go through a checkpoint, ended

at the raging, ice-laden Salzach River. Surviving on stolen cheese and bread, he slept in his car


42/48

and turned off the engine to save gas. On the fourth night, he rented a room in a motel. He left

without paying the bill.

The next morning, he stumbled into a dimly gas station. With a blank stare, he went to

the booth to pay for gas. Ive got to find a road today. Todaytheres just got to be a way

Good morning, said the gas station attendant. Are you from this area?

Taken by surprise, Reza looked up into the friendly face about his age. No, no Im not,

Reza replied.

I thought so. Are you visiting family or on vacation?

Neither.

Another patron approached and exchanged friendly conversation with the attendant.

Reza finished pumping his gas and slowly screwed on the cap. I wonder if this guy would know

about roads. A layer of fresh snow began to fall and Reza dreaded another frozen night in his

car. Blowing bits of ice off the surrounding trees, a brisk gale of wind invaded his ears and pains

shot down his neck and throat. I cant do this much longer.

Hey, Reza started, are you from around here?

Lived here my whole life, the attendant replied.

And so you know aboutroads?

The attendant nodded, came out from his booth and reached his hand out to Reza. Sure

do. Is there a particular road youre looking for?

You could say that, Reza said.

The attendant shrugged his shoulders. Cant help ya if you dont tell me what youre

looking for.


43/48

For a moment, Reza studied his face as he would an opponents on the mat. Trying to

read his thoughts, predict his next movelook for a weakness. I need a road that wont be on

map.

Rubbing his gloved hands together, I know of people who know such roads, he said. I

get off work in two hours. Come back then.

Two hours beat on Rezas chest like the hooves of a wild beast. He thought of his sisters

and how cold and scared they must be. He thought of Baba and how he counted on Reza to

come through for them. He thought of the chance he was taking with this gas station attendant,

but a chance fate forced on him.

Ah, youre exactly on time. Two hours, the attendant said as locked the booth and put

on his coat. When is the last time youve had a hot meal my friend?

Reza couldnt remember. Thank you, I just need a

A road. I know. He started walking to his car. Then follow me.

To the road?

He turned the key and unlocked his car. Holding his hand on the ice covered door, he

turned to Reza. Maybe youre not hungry, he said with a smile, but my Grandma made hot

stew tonight and Im stopping there first.

Hot stew. Grandmas hot stew.

After his third bowl, Reza thanked his new friend, Ivan, once again. And once again,

Ivan simply waved him off. Its nothing. Some days you help people, some days I help people.

I could see youre a good guy.

Nodding, my family, we alwaysshared food in the bad times, Reza said.


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And who hasnt come across a bad time? Ivan said. When youre full, well meet a

friend of mine wholl help you with your errand.

Scrapping the sides with his spoon, Reza thanked Ivans grandma again. She replied with

a smile and went to fill his bowl a fourth time.

No thank you, Reza said. Its wonderful, but Im actually full.

Sliding and skidding down the icy roads, Ivan drove into a crowded and dark

neighborhood. Hungry dogs lurched at Reza when he got out of the car. Back! What place is

this? He gave a sideways glance at Ivan who seemed unaware of the mangy beasts as he headed

into an alley. Reza followed him.

They stepped into a shadowy one bedroom flat. Several people slouched on the dirty sofa

while two more pulled white power through straws into their red, flaring nostrils. A drug dealer.

Against the grimy walls, four automatic weapons hung from rusty hooks. A thin man rose, shut

and locked the door behind Reza, and returned to the couch wearing his vacant stare.

Come, sit. Ivan waved to Reza, who stood motionless in front of the locked door.

Youre safe here. Just sit.

Safe here?

From down the hall, an enormous man with eyes too small for his face and hands too

large his body greeted Ivan with a hearty hug. My friend! Its been too long!

Yes, too long! Ivan again looked to Reza. Ive a friend who needs your help.

The brute approached Reza, who still hadnt moved, and reached out his thick fingers that

ended in black fingernails. Welcome. Come, sit.

Ill stand, Reza replied.


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Reza, come sit. We can help you, Ivan said as he sat at a small, splinted table at the far

end of the room. He then mumbled to the brute, who nodded and went back down the hall.

Suddenly, a skeletal figure of a woman leaped from the couch and sprinted to Reza. You want

fun? She asked, craning her thin neck to his face. I can make fun.

No, I dontwant fun, Reza replied. He stepped around the girl and sat next to Ivan.

I appreciatethe stew and your

Itll be fine, he lit a cigarette, my friendll have the road you need.

Moments later, Reza poured over maps of paths along icy rivers and trails through

wooded areas near the camp. He made notes on the back of a paper plate and strained to commit

every landmark to memory. We cant get lost in these woodsIve got to memorize every turn.

Ivans large friend pointed out pitfalls, like the German guard towers and the ridge wide enough

for only one man to cross at a time.

Course, this last storm couldve covered some of the markings, the large man said.

Youll know youre safe in Germany when you see the train station. Sitting in the chair, he

folded his arms and sized up Reza. I dont suppose youd like an opportunity to earn money on

your trip?

No! Reza snapped. Then he softened his tone. No thank you. I appreciate your help.

Just looking tomove my family.

Ivan gave a brief scenario of Rezas situation as Reza continued to study the maps. The

large man added some important details about the camp, the roads, and told Reza he should look

for someone outside the camp first to get specific information before going inside. Sundays

visiting day, he said. The most coming and goings on Sunday and best chance to get them

out unnoticed.


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Whats today? Reza asked, suddenly aware he had no sense of time.

Friday, Ivan said. And tomorrows a work day for me, so, we should head back

home.

Nodding, Reza take a last focused look at the maps and made final notes on his plate.

Although Ivan insisted Reza stay the night on his grandmas couch, Reza slept little. His

mind raced up and down the icy trails, trying to will his broken family across the narrow rock

ridge and under the guard towers.

Reza thanked Ivan and his grandma, devoured a hot breakfast and headed to the camp.

Just after dawn, Reza parked next to the clump of three huge trees and tried to scout out

the promised path. Fuzzy morning light bounced off the gentle piles of snow lining the blue ice

of the river. In the silence, peace bathed the trail inspiring Reza to drop to his knees. He closed

his eyes and whispered, Please Naneh, please help me take us across this path.

He spent hours that morning studying the guards, the gates and the general movement of

the camp. Noticing a man with distinct middle-eastern features doing the same along the far

perimeter, Reza took a chance and approached him when he drifted back into the woods.

Salaam, are you a resident here? Reza asked.

He raised a furry eyebrow. Who are you looking for?

With a tired sigh, my father and four sisters, Reza answered.

You dont want sisters here. Theres one shower. Its not good.

One showerWhere are they? How do I get to them!? Reza found himself grabbing

the mans collar.

The man pulled away. Hey! Let go of me

Releasing him, Sorry, Reza mumbled. I havent been well. Imcan you help me?


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Baleh, said the man. Where are you from?

Kermanshah, Reza said. The word sounding sadly foreign to him.

Qom, said the Iranian. We can help each other.

Reza reached to the man and exchanged the traditional three kisses. I have maps, Reza

said.

Dont need them. I have Visas, but have to get my brother out of the ten day quarantine

area. I know where theres a broken window, but I need to be lifted over the fence.

In the conversation that followed, Reza learned that this man had been a resident of the

camp, but when his paperwork cleared, he was released. His brother remained inside.

The Iranian waved his hand. Follow me. They stood off to the side and he pointed to

the window with the broken lock. They serve breakfast just after sunrise. . Tell the family to

wear plain, day clothes. No coats. After everyone has gone down for breakfast, they crawl

through the window and blend in with the day crowds. Gather them together, but walk out in

twos, not a big group. Got to look like youre day visitors whore leaving. This way, if youre

caught, at least some of you may get out.

I have to get everyone out. Is there anything else I can do?

The Iranian shook his head. No, thats your best chance. He pointed along the chain

link fence that snaked around the camp. Theres a place I know we can get over the fence.

After dark. With two of us, we can make it.

Nodding, good. Ill meet you here after dark, Reza said.

A deep, pounding sleep enveloped Reza despite the single digit temperatures. He awoke

in his car with a start, forgetting for a moment where he was, or why. A cascade of images


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flooded his mind and he remembered his mission. Without feeling in his hands or feet, he ached

with each step as he trudged through darkness to the meeting place.

Stay low and follow me, said the Iranian.

Although weak from exhaustion, Reza was able to lift the man over the fence and do the

same for himself.

Best of luck with your family, the man whispered, his white breath cutting through the

air.

You too, Reza answered.

They went in separate directions.

Chapter Nineteen

In this final chapter, Reza rescues his family. And mourns the loss of the one he could

not save.

chapter sixteen, seventeen eighteen

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