The others sleep heavily and don’t hear. No matter what I say to them they laugh at me but I know, I am certain, that this is the sound of the same cat that I shot. I haven’t slept since that night. No matter where I go, no matter which room I sleep in, this damn cat moans in his frightening voice and calls for his mate.

“Today when there was no one in the house I went to the same place where the cat sits and cries every night and I aimed, since I knew where he stood from the glitter of his eyes in the dark. When the gun was empty I heard the cat’s groans and three drops of blood fell from up there. You saw them with your own eyes, aren’t you my witness?”

Then the door opened and Rokhsare and her mother entered the room. Rokhsare had a bouquet of flowers in her hand. I stood up and said hello, but laughing, Siavosh said, “Of course you know Mr Mirza Ahmad Khan better than I do. An introduction isn’t necessary. He testifies that with his own eyes he has seen three drops of blood at the foot of the pine tree.”

“Yes, I have seen them.”

But Siavosh walked towards me, giving a throaty laugh. He put his hand in my trouser pocket and pulled out the revolver. Putting the pistol on the table, he said, “You know that Mirza Ahmad Khan not only plays the sitar and composes poetry well, but he is also a skilled hunter. He shoots very well.” Then he signalled to me. I too stood up and said, “Yes, this afternoon I came to pick up some school notes from Siavosh. For fun we shot at the pine tree for a while, but those three drops of blood don’t belong to the cat, they belong to the bird of truth. You know that according to legend the bird of truth ate three grains which belonged to the weak and the unprotected and each night he cries and cries until three drops of blood fall from his throat. Or maybe, a cat had caught the neighbour’s canary and then the neighbour shot the cat and the wounded cat then passed by the tree. Now wait, I’m going to recite a new poem I have written.” I picked up the sitar and tuned it in preparation for the song and then I sang this poem:

“What a pity that once again it is night.

From head to toe the world is dark.

For everyone it has become the time of peace

Except for me, whose despair and sorrow are increased.

There is no happiness in the nature of the world.

Except death there is no cure for my sorrow.

But at that corner under the pine tree

Three drops of blood have fallen on the ground.”

At this point Rokhsare’s mother went out of the room angrily. Rokhsare raised her eyebrows and said, “He is mad.” Then she took Siavosh’s hand and both of them laughed and laughed and then walked through the door and closed it on me. From behind the window I saw that when they reached the courtyard they embraced each under the lantern and kissed.

The Legalizer

(from Three Drops of Blood)

Four hours were left before the sunset and Pass Qale* looked empty and quiet in the middle of the mountains. Arranged on a table in front of a small coffeehouse were jugs of yoghurt drink, lemonade and glasses of different colours. A dilapidated record player and some scratchy records stood on a bench. The coffeehouse keeper, his sleeves rolled up, shook the bronze samovar, threw out the tea leaves, then picked up the empty gasoline drum, to which wire handles had been attached, and walked in the direction of the river.

The sun was shining. From below could be heard the monotonous sound of the water, layer after layer of water falling on each other in the riverbed, making everything seem fresh. On one of the benches in front of the coffeehouse, a man was lying, a damp cloth covering his face, his cloth shoes arranged side by side next to the bench. On the opposite bench, under the shade of a mulberry tree, two men were sitting together. Though they hardly knew each other they had immediately embarked on a heart-to-heart conversation. They were so absorbed in their conversation that it seemed as if they had known each other for years. Mashadi Shahbaz was thin, scrawny, with a heavy moustache and eyebrows that met in the middle.