Thirty Three, Why

We are pain.
We are mirrors that reflect pain.
We are eternity that tastes of pain,
Not the cold breeze that envelops pain.
*
We are question that pours into eye.
We repeat that question with a sigh.
We are places that we like to deny.
We are confused by a single why.
*
Grievance had left abstruse bruises on both Anna's heart and face. History of her country was again subjugated another period of its sacred earth. She wanted to believe that her father had died with dignity and integrity, defending his home with valiance; and when he was thrown out of his home, it was not for subdual of enemy but it was for crawling splendor. However, as she had slowly crushed into the dirt of this inhuman apathy, she knew that she had to rescue her mother, the last of her vanished family. That thought brought her resilience and unconquerable energy back. Everything seemed like an uproarious, non self controlled, and inflamed artery of her life.
Her first step was to be strong, to think, to think of a way, a solution; and when she discovered that answer to the puzzle, she called the Iranian man, Ahmad, in San Diego, who had told her about the death of her father. She thought if he could had been able to smuggle, so could her mother, no matter the cost. He was first reluctant to help Anna, but after he realized her sincerity and vehement for her poor mother, he agreed to contact a smuggler he knew and had him to contact Anna. He never told her that this man was his own smuggler. There was an honor amongst smugglers for secrecy and not being known and they expected that the people whom they had smuggled to live up with the same secrecy. She was aware of the dangerous task she was about to take on, as she had trespassed on a forbidden place; but danger for her now was only a game.
It was not easy to describe her feelings, that sudden energy and hope. She did not talk about this secret mission to anyone. That was reserved only for her. Sometimes she wished she had a brother or sister, so they could easily and without reservation plan together to save their mother. The reality of what had happened and what would happen, was stumbled down on her in a disorderly manner. She was self- assured, conscientious, and diligent; nevertheless, her hands, face, and entire existence were aflame. All she knew to be back to usual activity; including her job and to act normal, and to not talk to anyone about this matter. However, apologies was babbled not into words but into her deep and sad feeling for the lives of everyone she loved.
The smuggler called her ten days later, when she had completely lost hope that he would never contact her; or the man from San Diego had never given her massage to the smuggler. The smuggler's first question was if her mother knew of this.
"She should by now. Ahmad told me that he would have her aunt tell my mother about it."
"Good,"
Then they talked about the right time and the cost.
"I, m not sure when, but I'll let you know as soon as I know. My cost is $30,000."
Anna sighed. All her saving was a little over $20,000. But right away she thought of her youth, her CIA check and her job."
"That is a lot of money you're asking. I don't have all of it."
"How much do you have?'
"I have only $20,000." She said the truth.
"All right. I take the $20,000, only because I like you."
Suddenly Anna realized that if she had offered less money, he probably would agree to it; but now it was too late.
"You don't even know me, how come you like me?"
The smuggler realized that he was not dealing with a desperate, stupid woman. She had perhaps figured him out.
"I like you because you want to save your mother. This is an honorable thing to do."
She paused for a moment. Suddenly she could not trust him anymore.
"Can I have your number and call you back. I need to think about this." Anna's suspicion was obvious in her words.
The deal was breaking off. He knew it. He needed to repair it before hanging the phone. He knew that there were many people these days in the business of smuggling Iranian people out of country.
"I don't stay in a certain place. I am always on the go. And for the security reason, I can't give any of my phone numbers out. But you know I was the one got Ahmad out to safety. I am sure he did not tell you this. He is not supposed to; but you can ask him. Did you change your mind for money?"
"$20,000 is I all I have. I need to find someone cheaper."
"But you agreed to it."
"I didn't agree. I said that is all I have."
"How much can you spend to save your mother?"
"I can not put any amount of how much I spend to save my mother. I give my own life. But the problem is that you take her only to Turkey. I have to buy airplane ticket for both of us to get back to the States. I..."
"How about $15,000." He cut her off.
"Okay," Anna knew this is not a deal that she can do a back ground check on this Bloch man. She knew she was gambling; but she also knew that dealing with every and each of these smugglers were gamble. She had heard good and horrific stories about them. Smuggling had become a lucrative business these days amongst some Iranians specially from the eastern tribes.
"Okay, 15 it is. But you need to send the money to Turkey before..."
She rudely cut him off: "No, no, how do I know that you fulfill your mission if I pay first?"
After another ten minutes of bargaining and arguing, they finally came to an arrangement that she would send half the money to Turkey and pay the rest when she would meet her mother in Istanbul.
She had never bargained for a business deal before, but to save her mother, she was learning the traits. The time was unknown. All she knew was to wait for his call again. Then he would tell her where and when she needed to be in Turkey to meet her mother and to give him the rest of the money.
She did not consider interacting with her colleagues at work or any kind of intimate talk, being afraid that something might spill out of her mouth. Therefore it was fare to say that she did not talk to anyone, and did not participate in any social event for many months. She just went to work, did her job and returned home. The only person, who knew about this was her cousin, Fro, the one time candidate to marry her, in London. He was doing the same for his parents. In that darkness, she did not even have the courage to speak loud to herself, as though her own sound could waken the world.
Then it came this one night, to be exact, in July of 1979, that she stepped out in balcony of her apartment and sat on the only chair there. She started a cigarette and as the ring of smoke came out of her mouth, she gazed at the overwhelming beauty of the sky. Every thing was so silent that she could hear the fall of a leaf from the tree in front of her balcony. The magnificent arch of night threw a blanket over the world; and the silence became more profound. But then there was this loud cry, a passionate one which suddenly separated from a soul, her soul: "Oh, I am so lonely." The sound of her voice echoed in that space of uncertainty. She was detached from her home in Tehran for ever. She had chosen a solitary seclusion in this corner of the world. Her loud cry sounded as though it was discharged from some one else mouth. Intensely, she listened again to the echo of her own voice, which was repeating over and over again and denied its meaning. After a few minutes, she went back to the darkness of her apartment and closed the balcony door.
Sitting in the dark, she thought that she had always run away from things she could not deal with. She remembered running away from Washington to Dallas after Steve's murder. She just did not want to face facts, the reality of life. As brave as she had been, she thought, encountering all the tragedies, she was a feeble when it came to her emotions. She had searched for freedom, but what she had gained was getting away and losing her freedom in the entanglement she had created around her. Those words, "I am so lonely," pierced her through again like a sharp knife because they had come out of her own mouth and because they were her own words. The only thing she could understand from these repeated echoes of her own voice was that no longer she wanted to be alone. Soon the immutable and arduous taboo would freeze to bring her a mother's love that she once had known, even though deep in her heart she knew that kind of relationship was no longer obtainable.

To Be Continued