“Sabroo” by Nastaran Makaremi Translated by Negin Mohammadnajd
Nastaran Makaremi, born in 1978 in Iran. Writer and poet. She has a collection of poems, two collections of short stories and three published novels. She has also been a winner and candidate for prestigious literary awards in Iran. She has some experiences in journalism, painting, filmmaking and environmental art.
We were standing on top of the well. Ehsan had picked up a stick and was drawing a line around the well. He was annoying me. I wanted to bite him hard. But I promised Maman I wouldn’t bite him anymore. He was making stupid noises ...aaaaaaaaaa ... his noises were rising and falling. They were getting closer and farther. There was no smell from the well. Sometimes it smelled and dirty water came out of its edges. There was nothing today. The well was empty, large, and silent. Maman would be very angry if she knew we were here. A few days ago, when I found the baby mice in the campgrounds and brought them into the room, she turned red with anger. She washed my hands a hundred times with alcohol and soap and said that I had given her hard days. Then she picked up the baby mice with a dust-pan and threw them out in the snow. Their skin was red and wrinkled. I sat above them and watched. Maman poured a pile of snow on them and said, "Get up. Do not touch these filthy creatures anymore. If I see you doing that again, I will burn the back of your hand with a hot spoon. Maman's behavior was so much better when Baba was around. But it's been a long time since he's in the middle of the war. Maman is afraid of '' in the middle of the war'', but I think it's like dodgeball. One throws the ball; the other gets hit or catches the ball. The sound of the shots, however, is sometimes very loud. So much so that it breaks the glasses of houses and destroys walls. My hand's skin is stretched and stinging. I lift my bondage and take a look at it. My wound is drenched and red all around. It looks like my skin is cut short. I took Ehsan's hand, who was starting the seventh round, and said, "Let's go." Ehsan grabbed my bondage. I pulled my hand back and let go. He turned and stared at the well again. He said, "Did you tell Maman Sabroo is there?" I looked around and said, "Yes." He said, "I did not hear that."
“You were asleep," I said. "The liar is God's enemy," he said. "You are" I said. Whenever he says something bad, I say that. Then I became the enemy of God in my mind. I went into the well to fight him. God knew karate kicks. "Whoever loses, must tell the truth," he said. I said, "It's not acceptable. You said, yourself, not to tell anyone ..." I spat in his face. He didn't like it and raised his head. His eyes turned red. His hair caught fire and he shouted, "Go to hell." Hell was hot. My heart was broken. My hair was burning. I punched God in the back. I said, "I am a child. Children should not be thrown into hell." God laughed. He turned blue. He froze. He cooled down. "I was joking. Well, come here to me," he said. Sabroo was there too. He was sitting on the sofa staring at the darkness, watching Cinderella, and eating pistachios. He was fine. God poured a handful of pistachios in my hands. I looked out of the well. Pistachios became a handful of gravel. I spilled them on the ground. My bondage got dirty. The Cinderella cartoon was played on a white screen last night in the camp chapel. At the same time, all the parents had gone to look for Sabroo. Cinderella was pretty. The kind fairy had given her a beautiful dress and crystal shoes.She was spinning on the screen and singing. But there was no sound. The film had jump-cuts. The device that was playing the film belonged to Arash's dad. He was in charge of the prayer hall. Finally, whatever he tried on the device, he couldn't fix it. Cinderella stayed upstairs and the naughty woman locked the door on her ... Then a policeman came in and asked us if we had seen Sabro. We all said we did not. Ehsan looked at me and said nothing. The police left. Maman says they are planning to call the fire department and they would send someone to look down the well. "I'm telling Maman ... Ms. Davati says I must always tell the truth," Ehsan said. I said, "Okay, go and tell her. May God throw the bad guys in the well..." he got scared. It is very easy to scare him. Ms. Davati hates me. Since the day I saw her at the school office. The principal was also there. He was pushing her against the wall. I do not know why he was pushing her that way. Maybe they had a fight. Ms. Davati's scarf had fallen around her neck. Her hair was a mess around her and she turned red when she saw me. I said, "Ma'm, your scarf ..." she always said that we women and girls should help the revolution with our hijab. Then we used to tie our scarves tightly so that the revolution would love us. Principle turned and looked at me in surprise. It was as if he had laughed. His cheeks were going to explode. He pushed me aside and left the office. Ms. Davati fixed her scarf. She must have forgotten to tie it. Like Maman that sometimes forgets, and goes outside of the room without a headscarf, runs after Ehsan in the corridor and doesn’t allow him to play with Khanoom Sahar's children. KhanoomSahar is huge and black and always smells like meat. Her husband disappeared in Abadan and sent Khanoom Sahar and the children by bus. The bus was full and the driver had said, "Only women and children." And he left behind.
After that, nor did hereach Mahshahr, nor Shiraz, nor Ahvaz, nor anywhere else. She had said all these things to Maman and cried. She has five sons. She once said to me, "I wish God had given me a daughter like you." Sabroo was also a good boy. Unlike the rest of his brothers, he wasn't naughty and God would rarely humiliate him.He was quiet. He preferred to throw stones into the well. We also threw stones into the well. The rocks used to fall into the welland make a splashing sound. Khanoom Sahar, although she constantly cursed, was kind. She wants to be friends with Maman. She tells her '' we understand each other's pain when both our husbands are not with us'' ... Mamandoesn’tlike it. She keeps ignoring her. I understand it looking at her face and her fake smiles. Ms. Davati always says in class that we should be kind to each other. Because there is not enough space in the classroom and we have to sit on the benches with our three other classmates. Here, Ms. Davati is a first to third-grade teacher, and the principal himself teaches fourth and fifth graders. Classrooms are always cold and heaters never have oil. Instead, Rasool Maleki, who sits next to me, is a good guy. He says that his father is going to take them to Kuwait and he wants to marry me when he grows up and take me there too and sometimes he wraps his arm around my waist so that I don't fall off the bench. Ms. Davati frowns whenever she catches my eye, but she always gives me 20 for all my dictations. She once said to me, "If I tell anyone about her, God will make me blind." I'm not afraid of going blind. I close my eyes and think about what it's like to be blind. I once told Mamanand Ehsan, "I went blind."I closed my eyes and banged myself at the door and the wall. Mamanwas bored. She had cried. Her eyes were red. "It's ridiculous," she said to me. Maman misses Baba." She is also angry with him. That is, whenever she misses someone, she gets angry. The day Baba wanted to go back to Abadan, Maman cried a lot. She said, "Where do you want to go? Tothat slaughter house?" "They summoned us. We all have to go back to the refinery," Baba said.
Maman said, "Which refinery? They have bombed it by now." I was thin king of dodgeball. With those loud shots. Mamansaid, "Isn't this enough? War and homelessness?" Baba said, "I will be fired. There will be no bread left for us to eat." Maman said, "Why should I eat when something may happen to you." I went and took a piece of bread from the kitchen table and gave it to Baba. . Helaughed. He held Maman's headto his chest. "Nothing is going to happen," ''you should take care of them while I'm away." he said. Baba was strong. His strength was too much. He used to bend his arms and two bumps would appear. Two large bumps on his arm. But Ehsan is a coward. I bet he is afraid of hell and going blind. Last week, when I cut my hand, he was very scared. When he saw blood, he peed in his pants. I laughed at him while I was crying. Maman took off his pants and said, "Go and wear something else." I had badly drawn the knife on my palm.I wanted to see how sharp it was. It was very sharp. Maman took me to the hospital. Sabroo ran after the car until he could no longer run.Blood came out of all the fabric Maman had wrapped around my hand. I was scared too. Ehsan cried all the way because I had called him Mr. Poo. The nurse there picked up the fabric. Then brought a strange thread and needle and sewed and bandaged my hand. Now the skin of my hand is stuck together again. But it seems to be shortened and stretched. Like plastic. Like a fish-like chocolate. My heart seemed to stretch that day and was torn from its place. I don't want to think about the well. But the well comes to me every night. Sounds like moaning. It ismoaning. Probably it’s something has broken. Head, hand, legs ... I go above the well. I go in to it. I see God sitting there and making a moan-like sound to scare us. He laughs when he sees me. His stomach hurts with laughter. I do not laugh. "Where is Sabroo?" I ask with a frown. There were tears in his eyes with a lot of laughter. He wipes away the tears and says, "He left. He's playing with those toys in that corner." He points with his finger to the darkness. I look at that corner. Sabroo is not there. I turn around. God is not there. It is dark everywhere and I am alone at the bottom of the well. Sabroo didn’thave toys. We only had a bike. We would bring it to the campgrounds. In turn, I used to put Ehsan and Sabroo behind me and ride it. My legs used to get hurt. I pushed too hard to pedal. Yesterday Khanoom Sahar came to the door. "Have the kids not seen Sabroo?" she asked. Mamancalled us. "Did you not see Sabroo?" she asked. Ehsan looked at me. I said "No" and nudged Ehsan. Khanoom Sahar asked, "Weren't you playing outside together?" I said, "Yes, we did.Then we came in. He stayed out." I stopped breathing. My mouth smelled like liars. A bad smell. Like the smell of onions. Ehsan hid himself behind Maman and said softly, "We were by the well." Khanoom Sahar was checking the end of the corridor with her eyes. Checking her other sons, who were asking other rooms for Sabroo, and as if she did not hear Ehsan's voice, she left. Maman closed the door and said, "Didn't I tell you a hundred times not to play near that well? Do you want a hot spoon?" Ehsan escaped and went to the corner of the room. That night, everyone realized that Sabroo had disappeared. All the men and women set out to look for him. Some men even went to the pump motor outside the camp. I stayed in the room. Maman came back to us earlier than the others. I heard her voice in the corridor telling Khanoom Sahar, "Don't forebode. They will find him." Khanoom Sahar was crying loudly ... God had come out of the well. He had gone to buy cigarettes from Mirza Razi's stall. Sabroo threw a stone into the well and shouted. Ehsan also threw a stone into the well and shouted. I did it too ... Then Sabroo picked one up and threw it at us. I escaped. The stone passed by Ehsan and me. We became Iranians and he became Iraqis. We started throwing stones at each other. One of the stones bowed in the air and hit Ehsan in the chest. He got hurt a bit. I also threw one in return. The stone went up and hit Sabroo in the head. Ehsan and I screamed and laughed. We turned around and clapped. Sabroo but suddenly stopped. The black part of his eyes went up and it turned white. His body, like a piece of wood, didn't bend. He didn't bend and fell into the well. God arrived. He had a cigarette in his hand. He bent down in the black part of the well and the smoke of his cigarette died in it. Then he looked back at us. "Go home. Don't tell anyone," he said. We went backward. I took Ehsan's hand and pulled him. I was afraid. My heart was kind of cramped and crumpled. Maman says firefighters are supposed to come and get into the well. God will surely give them Sabroo to bring him up.
