Nazy Kaviani

Comment, I lovesss it!!!!

We finally have a beautiful sunrise,,,

"How many fucking counselors were watching me poop?”

Sanam was clearly annoyed at the thought of every moment of her life being watched, but she was not going to let the two men in the car decide her fate. If she was going to die, she was going to take the ship and all the passengers in it with her. Before either one of them could open his mouth, she went on to ask, "Who the hell are these 'counselors?' How many of them? Is there a secret brotherhood of some asshole bearded men who are sitting up there, God knows where, who are deciding the fate of the world?"

It was a beautiful sunrise. It finally stopped snowing, and sun’s rays began to bounce off scattered clouds. The car was gently making its way down the slippery road towards a snow white valley. Farther away city lights were illuminating the sky...

“There are no more bullets...

“There are no more bullets coming at me.  I’ve been spared, but the two of you will vanish from page of time, no doubt about it.”

Nasser felt there was no hope for him but he had to try to save his wife’s life.  He said: “She doesn’t need to be a collateral damage.  You have me.   Why can’t you let her go?  You said she could take refuge in Israel.  Why is it changed now?”

“Will the two of you stop talking about me as if I am not here,” Sanam said, being annoyed by the conversation.  “I want to know about the hidden cameras at my house.  Was there one installed in my bathroom?  I mean, when in the manuscript it says ‘Where there is no guidance, a nation falls, but in an abundance of counselors there is safety’, how many fucking counselors were watching me poop?”

Word Count is at 2,954

Dear wonderful friends,

What a lot of fun this has been! You guys are not only good storytellers, you are also very good sports and true team players--sadly, a rare commodity in our community these days.

We are at 2,954 words,which means that we will be starting to wind down, as we don't want the story to get longer than 4,000 words. We will have five or six more sections of 140 words, and then a 280+ word conclusion. Are there any volunteers for writing the conclusion?

manuscript is a world heritage, but you and your collaborators

"Stop right there," Sanam said shoving the gun hard in Nasser’s ribs.

"Ouch."  

"I asked if you ever loved me?"  

"Of course I loved my beautiful Sanam. It was you who betrayed me. Why didn’t you just come to me and ask about the manuscript?"  

"Why didn’t you tell me about it before?"

"I was protecting you. Didn’t know you were one of them. Now you tell me, did you ever love me or was the manuscript all you were after?"

Behrang said, "Nasser, your wife is not part of my organization. Just stumbled into this mess. We had hidden cameras in your house to find out where you kept the manuscript. Believe me we were surprised when she showed up on our monitor flipping through it. Now her life is forfeit, thanks to you. There are no more bullets…"

Comment!

Omg! This story is very interesting!

1) The word "testicles" was mentioned twice...

2) Mao's "famous" quotation is cited by this Persian lady.....LOL!

3) This lady is conguering 2 guys at the same time! OMG!

4) Sorry, MPD, I can't write....so so sorry.....I love to read and laugh! :O))

5) Thank you, all the writers, for providing the fun!

Comment, thank you Yolanda for being a supporting fan,

... , and keeping track of word count.  I wish you would write the next segment.  You can do it. 

P.S.  Where is Souri?

"... the rented car had reduced to a small dot in the distance."

"Political power grows out of the barrel of a gun," Sanam thought to herself, remembering Mao's famous quote, not that she was a political person, or a violent one, yet she basked at the thought of being in control of her destiny, after so long.  At the same time she cringed at her carelessness when she failed to have Behrang frisked to begin with; which it turned out that he was clean.  But, why?  If Behrang was an agent of a sort, why didn't he carry a gun on his person?
“Tell me Nasser, I want to know what kind of a man are you?  A thief, a murderer, a merchant, a scholar?  Who did I marry?”  She poked Nasser in back.  “Did you ever love me?”  She asked.

“The manuscript is a world heritage, but you and your collaborators…

Comment!

Thank you, everyone,

It is close to 3000 words now....

Comment

The reference to Behrang's trousers was meant as a "wink" to the first version.  I have to admit, I was very relieved when Ari let Behrang keep his trousers on in the second version :-).

Comment, I LOVESSSS it,,,

Excellent!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Actually, the reference to Behrang taking his trousers off was omitted when Ari rewrote his part, but that's not a big deal.

and you guys will tell me everything you know...

It was almost dawn and the blizzard had subsided.  In the clarity of  day, Sanam was no longer afraid for her life and her companions seemed less threatening. She thought again about the “Esfand” manuscript.  As a previous authenticator of the Museum of Antiquities she knew that the list of names had been added to the 900 year old document at a much later date.   Without proper tools it was impossible to date thelist exactly. Who did the names belong to and why were they recorded.

Bahrang and Nasser without protest installed themselves in Nasser’s car and Sanam and her suitcase in the back seat.  Behrang, happy to have his trousers on, tuned on the ignition.    When Sanam looked back to check for signs of state troopers, Behrang’s rented car had reduced to a small dot in the distance. 

"THE GUN IS NOT..."

"THE GUN IS NOT MINE"

"It's a gun that was used to kill a man not long time ago, but now it has your fingerprints on it.  You can kill us if you want, wipe your fingerprints, and toss it out somewhere along the way, but none of that makes any difference, because bullets in our bodies will match up with bullets recovered from the other murder scene.  Then, every policeman in this country will be looking for you the minute my boss let them know about you.  So, what do you say?  Behrang gasped for air as he said all of that in one breath.

-    I say you’re going to put my bags in Nasser’s car.  Since you don’t know how to drive, you'll sit on the passenger side, Nasser will drive, and you guys will tell me everything you know...

you won’t see another day (retry)

“Come on Sanam, have a heart. it’s a yucky mess; I’m not getting on the ground.” groaned Behrang.

“You won’t need to worry about the weather much longer if you don’t do as I say?” Sanam snapped.

“As you wish,” Behrang said sulkily. “By the way there’s something important you should know.”

“Spit it out!” Sanam screamed, clumsily poking the gun in his direction.

“I can’t say it out loud, I’ll have to whisper it in your ear.”

“You stay away from me!” Sanam jumped back.

“Then I’ll write it on the snow on the car window. Is that OK?”

Sanam nodded nervously.

Behrang looked to make sure Nasser was facing away from them, then wrote 5 words on the window, which he quickly wiped away.

  Sanam shook her head unbelievingly and aimed threateningly at Behrang. “THE GUN IS NOT…

Good point Nazy

Reasons:

1. The point about the weather is well taken.

2. Follow up by Esfand shows perils of attempting humor.

Comment, need to consult

Before we get too far, I'd like to ask Ari about the merits of the two men's dressing down in a blizzard. Nowhere in the story did we say that the weather had cleared up. As a matter of fact, their car has just skidded off the road due to icy conditions. If the dressing down is for humor, as followed up by Esfand, that would be a drastic departure from the tone of the story. Don't you think?

Sanam backed towards the car door and reached to...

Grab a big ghandshekan (sugar cube breaker) and gaaz anboor (plier to make sugar cubes smaller) that she had brought back from Iran from her suit case and turned to Nasser and said;

Nasser I swear to god ... I will grab your testicles with this gaaz anboor and will chop them off with the ghand shekan... As god as my witness I'll do it right here right now ... tell me ...

Nasser seemed speechless under a bright light and was starting to sob and turned to Behrang and said really? you tell me to keep my mouth shut and expect the enemy to let it go? Sanam joon this no good son of a bitch is behind it all and I'm tired of it ... 

You tell me Nasser! NOW! you fish-eyed fool heathen ... lord have mercy ... Sanam said gasping ...

Everything is sacred

you won’t see another day.

Behrang said, “but I just ironed my pants. Can’t I surrender standing up?”

“You’re not going to need pants much longer if you don’t do as I say?” Sanam snapped.

“As you wish,” said Behrang unbuckling his belt and unzipping.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Sanam screamed, clumsily poking the gun in his direction.

“I don’t want to get my pants dirty. Rather kneel in my underwear.”

Sanam, stared at him, flustered and unbelieving. Finally she said, “OK, take them off, but no tricks.”

Behrang took of his shoes and slipped off his pant to kneel next to Nasser. Nasser grumbled, “Hey, can I take off my pants too. I just bought them.”

Behrang threw a shoe at Nasser’s head, “You keep your mouth shut or I’ll kill you myself.”

 Sanam backed towards the car door and reached to...

Comment, I lovesss it. I can't move out of my chair, but I must!

There is no zan'a zaleel in this story.

pointed the gun at Behrang and Nasser, her husband…

“Stop where you are. How did you find me, dozd-e bisharaf?” To Sanam, this was not a question to be replied to, so as soon as Nasser opened his mouth to say something, she told him, “khafeh sho, get on your knees and put your hands on top of your head, where I can see them."

With her left hand, Sanam opened the passenger side door and told Bahrang, by then recovered, to get out of the car. When he did, she told him to frisk her husband, still pointing the gun at both of them.

“He has a knife,” Behrang said.
- Isn’t it just like him. Toss it over and get on your knees too. I need to get my bags out of the car. If either one of you make a move you won’t see another day.

Comment

Thank you, everyone.....so far the story reminds me of Nicholas Cage's movie "National Treasure"......there are gun, 900 year old manuscript.......wow! now series is reaching the climax.......everything is so unpredictable.......it is great!

Thank you, Ari, for the Tousi' link.....I love Pythagorean theorem and book-marked the site.....

Comment, so far the story is about 2,200 words long, as follows:

.

[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…”

[ by Mehrban]
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.

[by Nazy]
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,…

[by MPD]
..., 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…

[by Nazy]
It’s one of the earliest hand-written copies of an important religious document. Your husband stole it from National Museum of Iniquity. 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…

[by Ari]
...all those names in the manuscript.
Behrang sighed, “Relax. There’s a better way out for you.”
“Behrang,” Sanam pleaded, “just tell me what I must do to stay alive.”
Behrang replied, “You have obviously already read the sacred manuscript. You could join our order.”
 “Join the ancient Mossad order? How?”
“Pass the test,” said Behrang.
“What test?”
“It ‘s already in progress. You’re taking it as we speak.”
Sanam cried , “I beg of you, Behrang. I don’t know what you mean. Give me a hint.”
“For 900 years, it’s always been a test of trust. Do you trust me?”
Sanam knew the answer had to be yes. “Yes?” she replied hesitantly.
“Then let’s see you show it!”
Sanam’s body recoiled visibly at the ribald thoughts that came her.
Behrang laughed, “Wrong! Think “trust” Sanam.  It’s right under your nose..

[by Mehrban]
- Under my nose?! Under my nose?!  Under my nose! under my seat! the gun under my seat! you want me to hand you the gun that is under my seat.  So you want me to hand you the gun under the seat to show you that I trust you!
To trust him with the gun means to trust him with my life.  Yes, that is the ultimate test of trust.  Should I hand him the gun and by that hand him all the power over me.  And when I pass the test, what then?  Who would I be then? A pawn in an endless game of power in the guise of maufactured beliefs and secret rituals?
Reading her mind, Behrang said: Is it really that complicated?  People make these choices with a lot less at stake.

[by MPD]
Before Sanam could utter another word, the right side tires hit a patch of ice and the car began to rotate counterclockwise.  Behrang unsuccessfully tried to regain control of the car by turning the steering wheel clockwise.  The car made a couple of rotations, slipped down a ditch, hit a tree, and came to a stop, facing the opposite direction.  Behrang’s forehead was bleeding and he was dazed.
A car was approaching from a distance, and eventually stopped near the disabled car.  The driver-side of the car opened and a silhouette of a man walked cautiously towards her.  Sanam frantically looked for the gun under the seats till her hand hit a cold object in the shape of a handgun, and as she had learned before, she pulled the hammer back and pointed the gun at Behrang and Nasser, her husband…

Comment, fantastic, I lovessss it!

Please, someone make Sanam an ex-employee of the National Museum of Antiquity, capable of reading old manuscripts.

People make these choices with a lot less at stake...

Before Sanam could utter another word, the right side tires hit a patch of ice and the car began to rotate counterclockwise.  Behrang unsuccessfully tried to regain control of the car by turning the steering wheel clockwise.  The car made a couple of rotations, slipped down a ditch, hit a tree, and came to a stop, facing the opposite direction.  Behrang’s forehead was bleeding and he was dazed.

A car was approaching from a distance, and eventually stopped near the disabled car.  The driver-side of the car opened and a silhouette of a man walked cautiously towards her.  Sanam frantically looked for the gun under the seats till her hand hit a cold object in the shape of a handgun, and as she had learned before, she pulled the hammer back and pointed the gun at Behrang and Nasser, her husband…

Comment

MPD, if you can make sense of Tousi, why can't Sanam?

It’s right under you nose...

- Under my nose?! Under my nose?!  Under my nose! under my seat! the gun under my seat! you want me to hand you the gun that is under my seat.  So you want me to hand you the gun under the seat to show you that I trust you!

To trust him with the gun means to trust him with my life.  Yes, that is the ultimate test of trust.  Should I hand him the gun and by that hand him all the power over me.  And when I pass the test, what then?  Who would I be then? A pawn in an endless game of power in the guise of maufactured beliefs and secret rituals?

Reading her mind, Behrang said: Is it really that complicated?  People make these choices with a lot less at stake.  

Comment,

So, Sanam is capable of reading a 900-year old manuscript?

Comment

Comment, wow! I lovesssss it! Art imitating life...

Iranian Nuclear Scientist Shahram Amiri has allegedly been imprisoned in Tehran, after allegedly seeking asylum in the USA and then returning to Iran.  Two other nuclear scientists being killed in Iran, and then Ali Reza Asghari, Iranian general, kidnapped in Turkey and then allegedly murdered by Mossad in Ayalon Prison.  And then, pieces of art from Iran being auctioned in Paris, and Iraqi museum being looted.

I lovessss it!

Question for Ari, so the 900-year old manuscript contains names of people who have been killed in the last, at least 900 years?

I'll wait till Mehrban or Souri post the next segment.

...Why don’t you kill all of us, like you did…

...all those names in the manuscript.

Behrang sighed, “Relax. There’s a better way out for you.”

“Behrang,” Sanam pleaded, “just tell me what I must do to stay alive.”

Behrang replied, “You have obviously already read the sacred manuscript. You could join our order.”

 “Join the ancient Mossad order? How?”

“Pass the test,” said Behrang.

“What test?”

“It ‘s already in progress. You’re taking it as we speak.”

Sanam cried , “I beg of you, Behrang. I don’t know what you mean. Give me a hint.”

“For 900 years, it’s always been a test of trust. Do you trust me?”

Sanam knew the answer had to be yes. “Yes?” she replied hesitantly.

“Then let’s see you show it!”

Sanam’s body recoiled visibly at the ribald thoughts that came her.

 Behrang laughed, “Wrong! Think “trust” Sanam. It’s right under you nose...