The outpost wasn’t around back then.
Growing up, my old man liked selling veal more than beef. According to him, it sold better cause the calves were young and tender. I had to drag myself out of bed at dawn to help him herd them to the slaughterhouse.
He always said a stick was no good cause it’d bruise their legs.
Honestly, I figured a whack was easier than a tail squeeze. Touching their tails made them jumpy and a squeeze had them leaping like psychos.
Some calves refused to budge no matter the yelling or whacking. Sometimes their legs went stiff, other times they’d collapse. Some would start jumping the second I touched them, snapping their tails in the process. Now and then, a stubborn calf went nuts the first time its tail bent and my old man would lose the halter. It’d take off like a lunatic and we’d get teased and laughed at for chasing it down.
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The gunmen played football in the big yard during the evenings. You could hear the cheers and hand-stitched ball thumping and thwacking.
Sometimes the ball bounced out of the yard and folks kicked it back, terrified of the gunmen. Nobody wanted to be there when they came to retrieve it.
When the gunmen played, they’d ignore the game and hang by the outpost whispering something.
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Karim’s in charge now. While the gunmen were busy playing, we all went our separate ways.
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Karim used hand signals to tell us what to do and where to go.
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Once, they kicked the ball so high it landed by Abdol Mtalib and bounced past the outpost. After a few bounces, he picked it up. But the gunmen in the trenches saw him grab it.
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Abdol Mtalib held onto the ball for a minute, looking at me.
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They started yelling in Persian from their trenches telling us to kick the ball back.
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You were terrified how the plan would unfold.
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You walked towards Abdol Mtalib and told him to slowly put it down.
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You wanted to kick it back.
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Didn’t I tell you to put it down?
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Don’t kick it back. Seriously.
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I put it down.
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Soon as you did, you whistled to Azad, C’mon, let’s go.
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Three of us bolted and snuck into an alley, and we didn’t kick the ball back.
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We were a real pain in their ass.
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Yeah, right. Let them get it back themselves.
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I kept my mouth shut.
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So, that became our nightly routine. We’d hang around and if the ball came over a few times, we wouldn’t kick it back.
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We’d take off laughing as we watched them scramble for their ball.
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Yeah, exactly. We weren’t their errand boys, kicking back their balls.
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Azad and I burst out laughing.
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Once, those guys kicked their ball so high it sailed right over the alley and landed somewhere they couldn’t see from the trenches.
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I ran and looked around. No one in sight. Didn’t even think about Abdol Mtalib or Azad. I snatched the ball and sprinted to our basement.
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Azad and I chased after him.
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We wrapped it in a white burlap sack and jammed it into an old barrel stuffed with tattered cloth.
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Karim brought some cardboard boxes and we threw them on top. Then the three of us took off. As we headed out—
A gunman arrived, rifle in hand, finger resting on the trigger.
Another gunman arrived, rifle in hand, finger resting on the trigger.
Another gunman also arrived, rifle in hand, finger resting on the trigger.
Another other gunman arrived, rifle in hand, finger resting on the trigger.
Another other gunman also arrived, rifle in hand, finger resting on the trigger.
The street gunman, the alley gunman, the inside gunman, the outside gunman, the ground floor gunman, the basement gunman, the rooftop gunman, the yard gunman, the door gunman, the window gunman, the tree gunman, the wall gunman, the upside gunman, the downside gunman, the behind gunman, the ahead gunman, the gunman on the right, the gunman on the left, the straight gunman, the down gunman, the deep gunman, the top gunman, the low gunman, the near gunman, the corner gunman, the this-side gunman, the that-side gunman, the beside-that gunman gunman, the beside-this gunman gunman, the near-the-gunman gunman, the down-the-gunman gunman, the behind-the-gunman gunman, the gunman near the gunman, the gunman down the gunman, the gunman behind the gunman, the gunman ahead of the gunman, the gunman after the gunman…
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That’s how our homeland ended up overrun with gunmen. We were scared shitless and fled.
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We crossed the street and headed to the bazaar to avoid drawing attention.
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Listen, Azad. Keep your mouth when we get home, OK?
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Don’t worry, I won’t say a word.
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Me neither.
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Karim trusted me, but he was more concerned about Azad keeping the secret. He always said Azad had a loose tongue.
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I swear, if we talk, they’ll kill us.
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What if they start investigating and find out?
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Nobody’s gonna find out as long as you and Abdul keep your mouths shut.
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I’m telling you, if they find that ball we’ll get locked up. My old man said they’ve got a shady prison setup inside there.
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When they summoned my old man and the others at the roundabout, he said they blindfolded us and took us somewhere dark.
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My old man said they took him down over twenty steps and when he opened his eyes, he saw his neighbors.
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My old man said we were all wondering why they brought us here in the first place.
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When we got back around twilight, we found out the gunmen had searched every inch of the neighborhood and questioned everyone.
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But they didn’t find what they were after.
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They even found the barrel, removed the cardboard boxes and all the stuff on top but somehow they missed the burlap sack as if God had blinded them. I’m not making this up, I swear.
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The next day, the neighborhood was summoned to the outpost. As people returned, their faces were etched with terror. Three of them had been taken and locked up. They said, We won’t let them go unless you bring the ball back. You’ve got two days to find it. If you don’t, we’ll bomb you. It’s halal if we kill you since you’re the enemy. And wiping you out would be as easy as taking a sip of water.
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One of the prisoners was Azad’s dad. Azad was absolutely terrified. The news swept through the whole neighborhood.
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I knew from the start that the plan was doomed but I didn’t dare say anything to Abdol Mtalib. He’d call me a pussy.
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People started searching the houses on their own, begging anyone who had the ball to return it. They were terrified of getting bombed at midnight.
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People searched every inch of empty land, ruined buildings, and every corner of each yard, floor, and basement in the neighborhood. But the ball had vanished into thin air, like a drop of water dissolving into the earth.
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That night, the neighborhood elders got together. After they were sure the ball was gone, they pooled their money and decided to buy a new one for them.
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They hoped the gunmen would spare them from the bombing, and release the prisoners.
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We had no idea what they’d decided.
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The next day we found ourselves huddling together at school.
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Azad and Karim were bickering nonstop. Azad was convinced it was Karim’s fault.
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That stupid idea was all yours. I knew from the start it was doomed to fail.
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Cut the crap, what’s done is done. Stop fighting already.
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C’mon, Azad, if you knew it wasn’t gonna work, why did you go along with it?
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It’s on you. Now my old man’s the one locked up, not yours.
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How was I supposed to know things would end up like this? You were all for it too.
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I don’t know about that. I’m gonna tell them this afternoon that Karim’s been hiding it at his place. Let them arrest your old man and see how you like it, OK?
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You’re not gonna cry about it like a girl, are you? Wait and see what happens this afternoon. I know what’s going on, and I’ve got the guts to see it through. If they’re out by then, I’ll smuggle the ball back into their yard.
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Abdol Mtalib, you’re my witness. I’ve warned him. If he doesn’t get that ball back to the outpost, I’m gonna make some noise.
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Something felt off when we went home at noon.
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The Sunni clergyman, Kak Bayez the Chicken Seller, and Kak Ahmad Hasari took a new ball to the outpost out of fear.
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They approached the soldiers, all nervous and polite, saying, Here, sir, we’ve brought a new ball. Please, release the prisoners.
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I was holding the ball when this skinny soldier with a scraggly beard yanked it from me so hard it almost pulled my shoulder out of its socket.
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He yelled, One, two, three, now get out of here! So you think you can steal from us? Get lost and don’t come back!
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When we tried to plead for the prisoners, they began firing at us. We had no choice but to run off.
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Nobody knew what was going on. We were all fleeing. The Sunni clergyman’s turban flew off. We were too scared to look back. I have no idea how he managed to grab his turban and catch up with us.
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Everyone in the neighborhood was worried about those who’d been arrested.
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The community felt defeated.
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Spilled the beans at home?
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I didn’t have the guts, but if he doesn’t take it back, I will. Just think about how that creep got us into this whole mess. I’m getting a little impatient. Let’s go tell him.
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We headed to Karim’s place.
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We spotted three people from a distance rushing towards us.
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Azad spotted his old man and went over to say hi.
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Azad spotted his dad and approached him.
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The prisoners were released and the whole neighborhood breathed a sigh of relief.
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But we were stuck with this ball and had no idea what to do with it.
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Whether it was because of the community or outpost, we couldn’t work up the courage to start playing with the ball.
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We used to dream about getting a plastic ball, and now we had a real, genuine hand-stitched football. But we were too scared to even show it off.
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The ball had become a snake.
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The ball had become a poisonous snake.