Nazy Kaviani

The manuscript is over 900 years old…

… It’s one of the earliest hand-written copies of an important religious document. Your husband stole it from National Museum of Antiquity. We don’t want it harmed, but we don’t want to get into a protracted litigation with the US government over its ownership either. I drop you somewhere safe. Not at the bus stop. Somewhere were your husband won’t harm you no more. Then, I’ll be on my way.”

- I disappear, you disappear, the manuscript disappears. Isn’t that nice! Meanwhile my husband will be looking for me the rest of my life to kill me, and I have to…

- We’ll take you to Israel if you want. He won’t reach you there anymore.

- Israel! So, you are a Mossad agent. You assholes. You’re all the same. Why don’t you kill all of us, like you did…

Sanam was shocked at what she saw on the screen…

.

..., an SMS message, “Beware, there is a gun under the seat”.

“Whose seat?  Who sent the message?  The phone doesn’t belong to me.  Someone must have sent him this message.  Why would they warn him of a gun in his own car?”  She tried to concentrate, but how could she?

“Alright, I’ll give you the manuscript, but take me to the nearest bus stop and I’m out of here, out my husband’s life, out of yours, out of sight.  I’ll disappear.  I never asked for any of this.”  She told Behrang, resolutely, knowing in her position she had no way out.

“If I wanted the manuscript I would have taken it already.  All I had to do was to take your bag and leave you in the cold to freeze to death.  The manuscript is over 900 years old…

asked in a low voice as if he was trying not to disturb her.

Sanam said “No, I got her voicemail and I don’t want to leave her a message that would worry her, so I hung up.”

Behrang shook his head in understanding. Sanam decided she had rested enough and it was time to get out of this car and away from this man, who could very well have the mission of returning her to her home and into the hands of peril. “Nothing too abrupt, no big movements, nothing too drastic…,” she advised herself silently. Suddenly, Behrang’s cell phone started ringing an old-fashioned ring tone. Sanam casually said “I’m sorry, I don’t know where I dropped your cell phone! She could see that Behrang was very uncomfortable with this interruption. Sanam unbuckled her seat belt, bent down and picked up the phone, and was shocked at what she saw on the screen…

Comment for Mehrban,

Thank you for expaining it.  I believe we are still waiting for Nazy's part.

Comment for MPD

In an earlier segment Sanam decides that it may not be safe to trust Behrang. In order to get away from him without raising his suspicion she invents an aunt and tells him that the aunt is in Jefferson City with whom she could stay. He lends her his phone to call the aunt.   For details, see my first segment and Ari's subsequent one.  

Thanks for your efforts in keeping this project on track. 

Comment for Mehrban,

How did Bahrang know Sanam was talking to her aunt, “No answer at your aunt’s?”

The word "manuscript" is entirely annoying!

Only at i.com James Bond's day job is being a writer and the mission is to free the manuscript from Dr. Evil instead of diffusing the nukes!  At least use the Stauxnet virus or something other than the manuscript!

Once again like in the last group writing the focus became a letter that someone had buried inside a box at the end of a backyard!

Manuscript! 

Everything is sacred

Comment...

Greetings and thank you all for your contributions. I will follow Mehrban's ending shortly.

“You have something that belongs to…”

That was all she had heard before letting go of the phone and that was enough for her to know that someone besides her husband knew that she had the manuscript.  Behrang was focused on driving, calm as can be.   It was too confusing, she had not uttered a sound for anyone to know that it was her calling, they knew it was her by identifying Behrang's cell phone number.  Ahh! she had walked right into their trap and into this car, she thought and hated herself for being so careless.   As anger filled her eyes with tears, she frantically reviewed half baked escape scenarios. 

Behrang oblivious to her agony was squinting through the window shield and wiping the condensation lazily.

“No answer at your aunt’s?”  Behrang asked in a low voice as if he was trying not to disturb her.

Comment

Okay for not complicating too much

et's all go back to the last natural follow of the storyline.....let's take Anonymouse first intervention as part of the story. Then I took it to the next step, and now it is someone else's turn to start with that part:

" I want to make him miserable,......."

Let's start please. I will follow you.

Comment,

.

.

Ari's last complete sentence says, "Hearing the voice at the other end,
Sanam turned white and dropped the cell phone in fright."  It does not say the cell phone was dropped on the ground, or anywhere.  Then, the "narrator" is quoting from an unknown person, “You have something that belongs to…”  We do not yet know who said this.

It could go something like this:

"You have something that belongs to someone else, is that the problem?"  Behrang said.  Or, what Anonymouse said.

Or,

"You have something that belongs to me."  A voice coming from the cell phone said, but niether of them heard it since by then the cell phone had rolled under the passenger seat.

Or,

"You have something that belongs to your husband."  A load voice from a helicopter flying overhead was heard.

Or anything like that, which would not have changed the storyline, however, Anonymouse has drastically changed the storyline from "She thought of the 'manuscript' that was in her suitcase..." to "temporary wife" and "nuclear stuff", and all the other stuff in his entries.

Here is the story so far:

.

.

[by Nazy]

Sanam thought she could not walk one more step. The snow had picked up a vicious pace, and the crazy wind, which kept shifting directions, was now spraying huge snowflakes from every which direction all over her face and body. Her boots were soaking wet; her hands were frozen around the handles of her suitcase and duffel bag; and her vision was blurred by a combination of the blizzard, fatigue, and hopelessness.

She heard the muffled sound of an approaching car before turning around to see its dim lights coming towards her. She turned around and gathered all her might to drop her suitcase and duffel bag to the ground, making a big hand signal for the car to stop. She screamed, “STOP, PLEASE!” The car stopped. Through the windshield, she saw the driver signal “come on” to her. On any other day, Sanam would have felt apprehension at the thought of getting into a stranger’s car. Today, she did not waste any time. She opened the back door, dropped her suitcase and duffel bag on the back seat, closed the door, and jumped in the passenger seat, slamming the door. The warmth inside the car immediately started its comforting magic on Sanam. She looked at the driver, a handsome man about 40, who seemed perplexed, but wasn't saying anything. Sanam asked: “Could you take me to the next town?” It took only seconds for her words to register with the man, who said in a familiar and excited way “khanoom, shoma irooni hasteed?” (Ma’am, are you Iranian?) Sanam could barely control the muscles in her face to muster a smile or utter any words. She passed out trying.

[by MPD]

Several minutes passed before she came around again.  At first, she was incognizant to all things around her, but suddenly she collected herself, as if something awful was about to happen to her.  “Where am I?”  She asked apprehensively.

“negeran nebashid.  I’ll take care of you.”  The man replied.

The blizzard had not eased up a bit.  Snow had been collecting on the road for the last couple of hours, yet at the last mountain road checkpoint he had not seen anyone warning drivers of the approaching weather.

“I am Iranian also.”  He said.

“How did you find me?”  Sanam asked, still in a daze.

-    I have no idea.  You appeared out of nowhere.  I almost ran into you, with the road being slippery and all.  Did your car break down?

-    What car?

-    I assume you have a car, don’t you?

[by Souri]

Hearing the word “car”, Sanam’s eyes took the color of sadness. Shadow of a heavy sorrow was palpable on her face.  She turned away her head. 

Only one word, one simple word, "car" could evoke so many different thoughts.  What are ‘words’, anyway?  It seems as though the words are all pregnant, as long as they haven’t been uttered no one knows what they would produce.  Joy?  Sadness?  Fortuity?  Hatred?  Or, God knows, what other things.

Car!  Sanam didn’t want to remember what had happened, why she was here now.  But, but, it wasn’t possible.  She eventually had to answer the man.  She tried to change the subject:

- I owe you a ‘thank you’. By the way, what did you say your name was?

The man turned his face towards Sanam.  His glance was heavy. It was as if he wanted,

[by MPD]

,... with one quick look, to find out about the deep sorrow that lied in her eyes, and figure out the reason for her evasion.  For a few moments silence filled the air.  A heavy silence, a sad silence, not the kind that would cause ecstasy and excitement in hearts of two newly met.  It was as if not even the heat inside the car could be felt.  How silence is so cold sometimes!

Suddenly, the man collected himself.  He felt, with his curious look, he was ruining everything.

“What business of mine is it where she has come from, where her car is; or, in whose car she was?”  He thought to himself.  He tried to regain his composure.  He made a quick decision, and while he managed a mild smile on his lips, he said, “Oh, I’m sorry.  I am Behrang.”

[by Nazy]

Sanam said: “Agha Behrang, I don’t know you, but I am convinced you are my guardian angel, because you saved me from the blizzard and gave me a chance to catch my breath. I’ll answer your questions. I can understand if you do not wish to get involved in this.”

Behrang suddenly felt more relaxed. "So, she doesn’t have amnesia, and she isn't going to play word games with me. If I could only know her story, I could make a quick decision to dump her as soon as possible, or to help her if I can," thought Behrang.

Sanam continued: “I am really scared. I am running away from my husband. My car died somewhere on the road, and I was so afraid he would catch up with me, I took off on foot. I need to get away from him.”

[by Mehrban]

Sanam knew that she did not have much time and as much as she needed to trust the stranger, she felt something was amiss.  What was the possibility of her being picked up by chance by an Iranian man in Missouri while she was running!  She thought of the manuscript that was in her suitcase, and her responsibility in its safekeeping.   Why had she opened the old package?  She blamed herself for always being so curious.  She remembered her mother’s wise words reprimanding her for her unbridled curiosity, “Some things are best left unknown.”  She felt the heavy burden of what she had undertaken.  She made a decision. She could trust no one in this.

- I have an aunt in Jefferson City.  I could stay with her for a while.  Maybe you could drop me off at the next…

[by Ari]

...gas station; I can make a phone call from there.  “You left your cell phone behind?  Here’s mine,” said Behrang.  Sanam thanked him awkwardly and took the phone.  She had no choice; it would appear suspicious if she refused.  Yet, she didn’t want the number she had to dial to get recorded on Behrang’s cell phone, so she called her own landline number.  While the phone rang she thought of what message she would leave her “aunt.”  Would it be “Khaleh Mehri?”  No, she thought.  “Khaleh joon” is more anonymous.  In the moment of humor that her mind always annoyingly inserted into every stressful situation she even thought of “Khaleh Sooskeh.”   Finally her answering machine came on.  Hearing the voice at the other end, Sanam turned white and dropped the cell phone in fright. 

“You have something that belongs to…”

MPD and Mehrban, Ari's quotation is not specific to the cell ph

That must be one loud cell phone that everyone can hear it! Not to mention that Sanam went to all the trouble of calling her own landline.  So something from a dropped cell phone on the ground, can't be heard., busted cell phone maybe!

So my first contribution is correct where I assumed Behran said this belongs to ...  So I object to the 2 objections to my first comment!  I think it is within rules.

Everything is sacred

Comment,

Oooo Wow!  It just occured to me.  Maybe, Behrang is the one who is saying, " “You have something that belongs to…”  Well Souri, you take it from there.

It is very exciting!

Comment,

So now the story will continue after what Ari wrote.  Souri, since you wrote the next valid part of the story after Anonymouse's, please write the next segment.

going back to Souri's Sun Jan 02, 2011 04:07 PM PST entry

Because an entry by a contributor is deleted now, Souri's entry does not make sense, but it could easily be fixed like this:

-    What car?

-    I assume you have a car, don't you?

Hearing the word "car" caused Sanam’s eyes to take the color of sadness. Shadow of a heavy sorrow was palpable on her face.  She turned away her head.

Valid "Comment" on all counts

Thanks Souri and MPD.  Done!

Comment,

[Finally her answering machine came on. Hearing the
voice at the other end, Sanam turned white and dropped the cell phone in fright. “You have something that belongs to…”]

We know the answering machine came on, but we don't know whether there was someone at the house or not.  But then, in quotation marks, " “You have something that belongs to…”  Is this the voice on the answering machine?  Did her husband left that prerecorded "greeting" on the answering machine to scare her into bringing the manuscript back?  Or , her husband picked up the phone and told her that?

Either way, Anonymouse's first entry should have been objected to "immediately" as stated in rule #4, but since we are learning as we go, I make a second objection to Anonymouse's first entry, and let's go back to the storyline back then and continue from there.

Mehrban

I think you are right. Although I like Anonymouse's contribution, but in this particular case, I believe you are right. We can dismiss the first and the second (and third) participation of Anonymouse in this story, considering it as disruptive to the storyline...... If others agree with us, then we can ask Admin to remove those parts. 

The good behavior of the people, warms our heart and make us thankful.....  And the bad ones, just make us to recognize and appreciate the good ones!

MPD, the rules also include reading previous entries carefully.

Ari's entry ends with - Sanam calling her own landline expecting no response but she hears a voice (meaning there is someone at her house), it is THAT "someone" who tells her that she is in possession of somehing that does not belong to her.  Anonymose's FIrst entry ignores what is carefully set up by Ari.

Based on that interruption in the story line I object to anonymouse's First entry and all subsequent ones, as the subsequent writers should have seen the interruption.

If there is a second objection we should have the comments removed from that point on and anonymouse and others can try again to contribute while respecting the story line established by their fellow writers. 

Dear Nazy and other group story writers, Maybe solution is to...

I just saw this. I mean I had read previous contributions up to where Sanam started being afraid of Behrang. But I just saw what Anonymouse had done. What Anonymouse has done is hilarious but clearly against rules that Nazy jan had explained. I am not a contributor to this story, but I just have a solution. Maybe Anonymouse can blog the story the way he likes to continue and if there are friends who like his storyline can go ahead with him. But this blog should stay the way that Nazy described. This Anonymouse kheili naghola hast.

My perecious comment!

Everything is sacred

پرچونگی موقوف ؛-)

The good behavior of the people, warms our heart and make us thankful.....  And the bad ones, just make us to recognize and appreciate the good ones!

Drastic and unreasonable changes of the storyline

Anonymouse has made too many drastic changes to the storyline, which violates rule #4 "Drastic and unreasonable changes of storyline are not allowed. Contributions that create disruptions to the storyline will be disallowed. If there are two immediate objections to an entry, the entry will be ignored."

I object to Anonymouse's last contribution.  If there is another objection, let's just ignore it.

- I will nail his ass to the wall!

- I will nail his ass to the wall! I will make Chop Suey out of his testicles and force feed it to his temporary wife!  Arrrrgggggghhh …

Behrang gasps and starts looking around.

- So there is a bus coming which will take you to the next gas station

- A bus in the middle of this blizzard?

- Well … it is normal for this part of the country and …

- Ok but can I offer you some hot chocolate (Sanam blinks)

- I have to go really …

- But you were eyeing me when you first saw me …

- Yes but now it seems you’re too involved with …

- Look there are no Iranian James Bonds you know …

- So just one hot chocolate?

- Yesss … come on let’s go you silly savage …

Everything is sacred

Where in Europe?! .......

“He usually introduces himself as a German. 
He thinks, not that many people here know the language, so he won’t get in trouble much.  Indeed, he’s been in Germany before but his German language is not that good.”  Sanam said.

– So, what is your dilemma with your husband now?  Is it that he has involved himself with the nuclear issue, or is it that he wants to take a temporary wife?

– I have tolerated so many things from him up to now, but this time I won’t let him do what he wants.  I’m going to stop him anyway I can.  I’ll ruin his reputation.

– So, do you love him?  You want to keep him, don’t you?  You don’t want him to leave.

– No, that’s not it.  I want to ruin his reputation first.  I want to make him miserable,.......

You have something that belongs to…

The Interest Section of the Islamic Republic?  said Behrang. 

- Yes my husband was getting a temporary wife without telling me and these are the forms I found in his purse.

- Purse?

- Yes it’s a man purse; he tries to compensate for his lack of English language by trying to act European.  He is a strange, strange man.  He is somehow involved in the nuclear stuff too in the middle of America of all places.

- Have you told the authorities yet?

- Not yet.  We just had a fight and I ran away from him.

- So what are you going to do?

- I don’t know yet, not even sure if the nuclear stuff is real or he is just trying to show it off like when he says he’s European.

- He says he is European?! Where in Europe?!

Everything is sacred

Maybe you could drop me off at the next ...

........get away from him"

Sanam knew that she did not have much time and as much as she needed to trust the stranger,  she felt something was amiss, what was the possibility of her being picked up by chance by an Iranian in Missouri while she was running.  She thought of the manuscript that was in her suitcase and her responsibility in its safekeeping.   Why had she opened the old package, she blamed herself for always being so curious she remembered her mother’s wise words reprimanding her for her unbridled curiosity “somethings are best left unknown”.  She felt the heavy burden of what she had undertaken.  She made a decision. She could trust no one in this.

- I have an aunt in Jefferson City, I could stay with her for a while.  Maybe you could drop me off at the next