A kbar had been plagued by a recurring nightmare ever since he signed the contract for his second job approximately three months ago. This haunting dream consistently played out within the familiar confines of the construction site. He would climb into the crane, manipulating the gears and switches with precision to lift and relocate the heavy and dark timbers. As always, there came a moment when he hastened his repetitive tasks, diverting his attention from the meticulous care he had initially given. It was precisely at such a juncture that he realized the timbers had transformed into human figures cloaked in dark shrouds. The hook ascended, tightening around the neck of each person in a chilling revelation.
That day, Akbar had smoked three packs of cigarettes, setting a new personal record. Tomorrow marked the first day of his second job, and he was certain that whatever awaited him at home that night would be the perfect distraction from the impending uncertainty.
As he approached his home, he spritzed a small sample of perfume he had in his breast pocket and put on the new sunglasses he’d purchased earlier in the day. He wanted his wife to see his eyes concealed that night.
Upon opening the door, he was greeted by Zari’s jubilant exclamation, “Look at my handsome husband!”
Akbar blushed. He appeared to be embarrassed by the playful teasing of this beautiful woman as if he were meeting her for the first time. She had adorned herself with makeup and donned a black dress that revealed her shoulders and cleavage. It was one of her three party dresses, and it happened to be the newest one he could afford after months of careful saving. Seven years had elapsed since their marriage, yet with each passing day, she seemed to grow more fabulous. He was tempted to step closer and plant a kiss on her radiant cheek, but that familiar hesitation regarding her reaction held him back.
She had turned on all the lights in the living room like the times they had important guests. The small dining table was set with a big bowl of chicken and barley soup, a big platter of baghali polo, and a platter of lamb shanks.
“I can eat them all!” Akbar said.
“Go ahead! I look forward to seeing it,” Zari said, cautiously carrying a pudding plate to the table. He was about to blurt out, driven by extreme excitement, wondering about the last time she had prepared such a great feast.
His son suddenly jumped into the room and shouted. He stood motionless with his hands raised like a bear. Akbar put his hand on his heart, “uh…”
When Javid ran to Akbar, he opened his arms. But it turned out his son looked for playing with his hearing aid.
“Leave it, Javid!” Zari scolded. “That’s fine, Zari,” Akbar replied.
“So, you have a birthday tomorrow?” Akbar asked.
“Yes!” Javid replied, now touching the misshapen edge of his right ear. “What do you want as a birthday gift?”
“A crane!” Akbar gasped.
“A crane?! Why a crane?”
“Do you really wonder why?” Zari replied, laughing. “I can get you a robot. How about that? Or a truck?” “No! I want a crane. Like the one you drive.”
“Ok, let’s eat for now.”
Now, the dark feeling that he hoped not to show up that night took over and stuck.
“Akbar? Where are you?” Zari asked, waving her hand in front of his eyes. “Sorry.”
“How is the food?” “Amazing!”
“It looks like I am more excited about your second job than you. Did you tell me that it is for a new construction project?”
“Yes. It is for a new project. A big one…” Akbar replied in a low voice.
When he noticed Zari playing with her food with that dejected look on her face, he realized the thoughts about tomorrow had haunted him for a while again. Akbar said, “I am going to buy the cell phone for you with the first paycheck. What was the name?”
Her face became vibrant again.
“It is the most recent Nokia phone, 6600. It has an amazing camera,” Zari said, smiling.
“Everyone has a mobile with a camera these days,” Akbar said.
“I wish you got this job sooner. What did I tell you? If you look for it, you will find it.”
Zari spoke what she thought without any misgiving. This was much more like her than that caring, beautiful woman. She did not know that the job had been offered to him two years before, and eventually, he accepted it only because of her constant pestering.
“What else do you want? I was thinking about moving from Tehran to Shiraz.
This way, we can rent a larger place.”
He closely studied her face and found the disinclination he expected. “Hm… I don’t know. I don’t have any issue with living here.”
“But you always said that living here is like being in a cage.”
“There are other priorities to go first,” Zari replied after a few seconds of looking at the wall.
He tried to keep eating, but once again, the invading thoughts slowed down his chewing until he felt the presence of a disgusting lump in his mouth.
When he found himself concerned about Zari being vexed by his distraction again, he decided to tell her. Wasn’t the pain he was suffering from mainly because of her? She had to participate in it.
“Do you know what I am thinking about?” “What?”
“Today, I read the news about someone who raped a pregnant woman before her husband’s eyes. Then, he killed them both.”
She stared at him for ten seconds straight. That surprised, bitter face always scared him.
“So?”
“So?! Don’t you think he deserves to be executed?”
“Executed?! Why should you even bring up such a subject now?” “Because…”
When she noticed his struggling to find a plausible answer to her question, she raised her voice,
“Seriously, Akbar, why should you say something like this at dinner in front of Javid?”
Javid stood there, gazing at them motionlessly. Zari was right. He totally forgot about Javid’s presence. Now, he had to distract him immediately.
“What is that you are playing with son?”
He stretched out his hand to show Akbar the big dinosaur.
“It was in a surprise egg. Mr. Saeed brought it for me.” Javid said.
Akbar looked at Zari. “He came here again?”
“Yes! Do you think I can carry everything I needed for the celebration you just ruined tonight?”
He looked around to find something distracting, and when he found nothing just took a deep breath to be able to suppress the erupting anger.
There could have been a good chance she wouldn’t turn her back to him in the bed on that special night, but he had just blown it. The next chance would be on the night she would have the cell phone.
~~~
The neighborhood where Akbar and Zari lived used to be a small village in the south part of Tehran and had now become part of the city. Saeed had rented the main grocery store located close to the mosque two years before. Before him, whoever rented that store couldn’t put up with the grumpy store owner and had left after only a few months. He was the only one who could get along with that man and stayed there for that long. The whole neighborhood unanimously agreed that Saeed was different from the previous people who had run the store. The first thing to notice was that Saeed was a clean and tidy young man who was passionate about his job. Every morning, he opened the store at 6:00 AM and closed it at 11:00 PM. You never saw him with stubble on his face or wearing the same clothing for two days in a row. Saeed didn’t mind letting those retired elderly folks, looking for a way to waste time, come and dawdle at his store. He let them talk at length about old memories as much as they wished. This made them love him. He also made friends with many young guys, with whom he bantered about soccer and girls. Unlike his predecessors, he was fine with giving credit to the customers he knew. Occasionally, he used his bike to offer free delivery when people shopped for more than a few items.
At some point, he became so popular that he attracted loyal customers from surrounding neighborhoods. However, after a while, he politely discontinued offering credit and asked anyone who came to linger in the store to leave.
Unlike others in the community, Akbar’s disappointment in Saeed had nothing to do with the discontinued promotions. Akbar understood that they were a part of Saeed’s business strategy, and he saw no issue with it. Their first encounter took place around 10:00 PM when Akbar was on his way home, battling a severe headache. Upon entering the store and realizing there was a new shopkeeper, Akbar braced himself for the usual startled reaction people had when they first saw him. To his surprise, Saeed’s facial expression remained unchanged. His steady and relaxed smile somehow brought a comforting feeling to Akbar, making him feel less self-conscious about his appearance.
“You seem tired… long day, huh?” Saeed asked. “Yes, and I have a terrible headache,” Akbar replied. “Sometimes I get them too. I hate them.”
Before leaving the store, they shared a smoke together. Akbar couldn’t believe he had stayed there for half an hour. That vibrant and light feeling reminded him that he had never had a friend with whom he could talk so freely. From that night on, he made it a habit to stop by Saeed’s store on his way back home, where they would talk and smoke. Over time, they got to know a lot about each other. Akbar learned that Saeed’s parents had divorced, and he harbored resentment toward his dad and stepdad. In return, Saeed learned about Akbar’s illness and the small village he came from.
Their intimate friendship did not last more than two months, though.
Sometimes, Akbar absurdly wished Saeed had not brought surprise eggs to sell. But he insisted on carrying expensive and exotic items to make his business more distinguished than before. The first time he had bought Javid one of those eggs after having a painful penicillin injection, his son fell in love with it.
Zari was strictly against spoiling Javid, so it was quite odd to see her so easily giving in to buying one of those expensive eggs for him every week. Akbar managed not to become too obsessed with it until that evening when the three of them stopped by Saeed’s store on their way back from the park. What alarmed him first was the way Zari and Saeed greeted each other. They seemed like close friends who had known each other for a long time—certainly longer than Saeed and Akbar’s friendship.
“So, Javid is here to get his free egg. You promised him if he gets a top mark in his math exam, you will get him a free egg,” Zari said with a mischievous smile.
“Wait, what?! I don’t sell anything for free here,” Saeed replied, feigning surprise.
“See, Javid! I told you he would break his promise,” Zari said, maintaining the same smile.
Then, Saeed laughed loudly and handed Javid an egg. “Good job, Javid! What did I tell you?”
What bothered Akbar the most was not seeing his wife and Saeed obviously flirting or even being ignored by them. It was something in Zari’s eyes he hadn’t seen before—a spark reflecting a great passion, something that could animate her usually sullen face after a long time. This was irritating enough to make him look around for something interesting to focus on. He spotted a pack of mint cigarettes that Saeed had recently brought. He stared at it for ten seconds, imagining the taste and the freshness of the smoke in his mouth.
When saying goodbye, Saeed looked Akbar up and down, and suddenly, a spontaneous smirk appeared on his face.
After that day, he never stopped by Saeed’s store, yet he didn’t dare to ask Zari to stop shopping from Saeed. He knew it would only open a gateway to a new quarrel and give her a good excuse not to talk to him for a few days.
However, the day after the new job celebration, he had to stop by Saeed’s store.
He had to warn him. As soon as Saeed laid eyes on him, that same spontaneous smile appeared on his face. He folded his arms across his chest, and his eyelids were half-closed, giving him the same condescending look his classmates had always given him when making fun of his face.
“Look who’s here! A disloyal customer and friend,” Saeed said.
Akbar found nothing appropriate to reply. He just passively stood and stared, much like the times he had given in to being bullied by colleagues or friends. It was so disappointing to see that Saeed was no different from those people who enjoyed making fun of him. Not only was Saeed one of them, but he appeared to be the worst one.
“What brought you here, my old friend?”
“I have a question. Do you still offer that delivery service?”
“Hm… Rarely. You know, it depends on the customer. For some loyal customers, I still do it. Very few people, though.”
And that grin was back on his face. Zari was right; he looked like the American actor who had played the lead role in Top Gun. Since she had mentioned it last week, Akbar asked around and found out that the guy’s name was Tom Cruise.
Saeed could keep that smile on his face for as long as Akbar wished to look at him. So, he had no choice but to turn and apply the ten-second rule when leaving the store. He needed to walk away and think about something irrelevant to let go of his anger. But the grinning face of Saeed with half-closed eyelids was all he could see. At some point, he couldn’t help but walk back into the store.
“You never deliver anything to our home again. Is that clear?”
“Sure…” Saeed replied. However, he couldn’t hold back his laughter after a few seconds. It was because Akbar’s voice had turned into an absurd shriek.
~~~
Akbar devised the ten-second rule during his first week at school when he was seven years old. The school was nothing more than a small, dingy classroom where children of various ages and grades gathered. This makeshift classroom had been constructed a decade earlier in the middle of a desolate piece of land by a benevolent wealthy man. Inside, there loomed a giant, ancient gas heater, a source of both warmth and danger. The children had to keep a vigilant eye on its chimney to prevent any unexpected carbon monoxide leaks that might endanger their lives, as had happened in a neighboring village school.
One other unforgettable aspect of the class was their teacher, Mr. Jabbari. He was a thin, frail man with a small face nearly obscured by a thick mustache. His greasy, unkempt hair hung over his brow and eyes. Each morning, he would teach a different grade for about half an hour. Afterward, he would briefly leave the classroom. Upon his return, he brewed a glass of tea, added a piece of opium to dissolve in it, and drank it. Then, he would place a rock candy in his mouth, savoring it slowly. Soon after, he would promptly fall asleep while sitting, and this marked the beginning of Akbar’s daily nightmare.
In this confined space, Akbar found himself surrounded by a group of children from whom he always sought to escape. However, within those walls, he became the most conspicuous target for their teasing.
“Be careful, Akbar! Your eyes are falling off…” “Look at that monkey escaping from the zoo…” “How can you be so ugly?!”
Sometimes, innocent remarks hurt him more than the mean ones. The only child who didn’t mind talking and playing with him was the niece of the village head. The girl needed a crutch to walk as one of her legs was shorter than the other. One day, as they sat beside the fountain where they often came to talk, she asked,
“Akbar, we are friends, right?” “Yes.”
“Are you a djinn?” she whispered shakily. “What?!” Akbar exclaimed.
“Sorry… but my brother told me you are one of them, living in the desert, and they just punished you by sending you here to live with us.”
And when Akbar didn’t reply, she continued in an imploring voice, “Could you heal my legs? Please…”
Before he understood the reason for his condition, he admitted his relatives’ belief that he was cursed. He could never forget the embarrassing, lopsided smile that appeared on his father’s face whenever he was about to introduce his son to someone for the first time. For a long time, his mother expressed her affection for him by calling Akbar “my ugly son.” One day, Akbar lost his temper and retorted that his classmates had suggested that his mother must have brought him into the world through her rear end. The smile immediately vanished from his mother’s face as she slapped him. She never called him “my ugly son” again, though.
From a young age, he had a great deal of practice in seeing himself through other people’s eyes. He could discern people’s thoughts when they looked at him and overhear hushed conversations about his appearance, even when the speakers were far away. This is how he developed the ten-second rule. Initially, he tried to see it as a virtue, a sign of his forgiveness, but deep down, he knew it was a lie; the rule was merely a defense mechanism. The only thing that could instantly shift his focus away from his self-consciousness about his face was engaging in meaningful and logical conversations. That’s why he couldn’t wait for the teacher to arrive and start talking about math, science, and history. He had to drop out of school due to his hearing impairment, though, a condition he later learned was also linked to his appearance.
He was about sixteen when the new medical doctor in town diagnosed his condition as Treacher Collins syndrome. Discovering that he was not cursed but sick brought him immense comfort. Furthermore, learning that only one in every 50,000 newborns was born with this syndrome made him feel like a hero as if he had sacrificed himself for the other 49,999.
After quitting school, he discovered another way to occupy his mind: driving his father’s tractor to prepare the fields for planting. He became so skilled at it that he eventually convinced his father to allow him to go to Tehran and learn how to operate other heavy machinery.
Five years later, he had secured a promising position in a well-known construction company and had rented a place in Tehran. During their inaugural visit, Akbar could discern the spark of astonishment in his parent’s eyes as they explored his orderly and well-furnished apartment. At a certain moment, they exchanged a wordless message through their glances.
“I never imagined in my wildest dreams that he could reach this level. Did you?” His parents agreed, now convinced that their son was eligible for marriage.
Holding a stable job and having a place to live in Tehran were more than sufficient to gain the approval of Zari’s parents.
As far as Akbar could recall, Zari had been the young girl who frequently roamed the mountains in search of lizards and snakes. Could she make a suitable wife?
“She certainly could,” her mother replied with a mysterious smile.
Upon meeting Zari for the first time, Akbar comprehended the significance of his mother’s smile. Over the years, she had transformed into a radiant vision of beauty with her captivating emerald-green eyes that seemed to hold the secrets of the universe. Three months into their marriage, Akbar was certain that he could not anticipate any sweeter moments in life until his final days. The first time they lay naked beside each other, she traced his face and slender body with a curious smile, as if she had just discovered a new species of reptile.
Zari was a clever young woman, and Akbar had anticipated the moment when she might feel deserving of a more graceful partner in bed. However, he hadn’t expected it to come so soon. The end of their honeymoon period began on the night she claimed to have a headache and turned her back to him in bed—a headache that recurred every night, except on special occasions when it made her exceptionally happy.
~~~
He initially found the crane cabin stifling, but when he opened it to let in the cold, fresh air, he still felt hot and dizzy. The number of people gathering around the crane kept increasing, and the growing commotion made him increasingly nervous. The crane was already parked somewhere in the middle of the square, with all the streets surrounding it blocked.
After about ten minutes, the approaching sirens silenced the crowd abruptly.
Everyone turned their attention to the three police cars arriving with rotating lights. After a sudden halt, three sturdy men quickly exited the lead car. They assisted the blindfolded convict out of the vehicle. He had never seen a criminal before, even from that far distance. The guy was way tinier than a man who could be capable of raping and murdering a pregnant woman. He wore a prison uniform adorned with small pictures of a balance all over it, which appeared to be at least two sizes too large for his small frame. His bald head was bowed as he walked, and there were moments when they had to lift him as his toes brushed the ground. Together, they made their way to the portable stage set up on the square lawn. The powerful projector on the stage illuminated the path of the convict, making it easier for the spectators to follow.
As he neared the stage, the man almost stopped walking, and the soldiers had to carry him. On the stairs, it appeared he sneezed, and a stream of liquid suddenly gushed from his mouth. The soldiers briefly paused, one of them assisting him in cleaning his mouth. People raised their cell phones to capture the moment, while some stood on benches around the square to make sure they could record the final scene with a better quality.
Suddenly, a woman in a black chador ran towards the stage, shouting. It seemed she had managed to escape from two others chasing her. At one point, she tripped and fell, resembling a small, trembling black mountain as she wept. Watching her, the man standing in front of the stool began shouting loudly, as if an intense pain had suddenly gripped him. When he became out of breath, the soldiers assisted him onto the stool. The third soldier, wearing a black mask, placed the noose around his neck. Akbar couldn’t see the man clearly, but he was certain that the man was trembling, much like himself.
“Mr. Ramezani?”
Akbar raised the radio and pressed the button on it with his cold thumb. “I can hear you. Are we ready?” Akbar said.
“Not yet. The noose rope doesn’t cooperate.” Akbar took a deep breath.
The man wearing a black mask was still struggling with the rope. Akbar wished it took him longer to figure out the issue. When the man with the black mask tested the rope by pulling it hard and repeatedly, he put the noose around the convict’s neck and adjusted the knot.
“Mr. Ramezani, we are ready.” Akbar could hardly hear his voice.
“Yes. Give me a minute. I am working on it.”
Akbar just needed to push that flashing switch to lift him and let the convict die. He knew that by lifting the rope, the man would not die easily, but gradually – a painful death.
While carefully observing the man, Akbar made an effort to center himself on the reason for his presence on the stool. It was justice that had brought him here. What if the victim were Zari? He closed his eyes and attempted to employ the ten- second rule once more but with a different approach.
In his mind’s eye, he found himself in their living room, as if he were sitting on the couch. Zari opened the main door, and upon seeing the man with a gun aimed at her, she screamed. He advanced, and she retreated. Despite the black mask fully concealing his face, it seemed as though he and Zari were locked in a gaze.
Suddenly, he tossed his gun aside, swiftly removed his mask, seized her hand with a firm grip, and passionately pressed his lips to hers. Yet, their motion ceased abruptly. The scene faded away, leaving Akbar with a sense of unreality.
“Mr. Ramezani? Are you ready?” He wasn’t.
“No. Something went wrong. Please bear with me.”
His hands went completely numb. He just stared at the flashing switch and, after a few moments, closed his eyes again.
He took a deep breath, seeking something stronger. Perhaps he could imagine her with a swollen belly, pregnant with Javid. He even tried to picture Javid observing them. But his efforts were in vain. The pieces couldn’t fit together correctly.
At some point, the two motionless bodies on the floor started moving again, without him needing to animate them. They were not struggling; they were making out. Zari moaned, clasping her hands around his waist. Akbar could see the deep sensual pleasure in Zari’s eyes, something that he had seen only once in the first month of their marriage.
“Zari?! ” Akbar yelled.
They paused, and both looked at him. When the man removed his mask, he saw Saeed staring at him with a grin and half-closed eyelids.
“Could you see him?” Saeed asked. “See who?” Zari replied.
Akbar opened his eyes. His whole body felt numb, and his vision grew blurry.
He involuntarily closed his eyes again. It felt like he was about to faint or fall asleep. However, he fought against it, summoning all his strength to raise his hand and push the flashing switch. An external force seemed to prevent him from closing his eyes. The new projector lights illuminated the area, making it as bright as day. The hook began to lift the man, and Akbar expected to witness a struggle or wriggling before death took hold. To his surprise, the man’s body remained motionless, as if he had died long before. As his body reached the highest point, Akbar looked down and saw the crowd pointing their cell phones at him, not at the hanging body.//
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Mohammadreza Fayaz used to write fiction in Farsi, and has a novel published in Iran, short-listed for two prestigious literary awards. However, his second novel was banned by the Ministry of Culture and Islamic Guidance in Iran due to censorship. Having had that experience, he decided to start writing in English, and his first fiction was accepted for publication in BigCityLit Magazine.
Originally from Iran, he immigrated to Canada in 2009 to complete his PhD in Engineering. He currently resides in Charleston, South Carolina, and is a member of the South Carolina Writers Association.
About the Author
