Shadows of Death

Chapter 3(Christopher section 8)

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Christopher understand his meaning and with confidence said: "I'm not taking you for a ride."

The boy laughed and said: "Oh, I know. You're my friend! Well, until I talk nothing will be clear. I don't think you're going to scam me! At least a few moments ago you did me a favor and didn't tell that woman about...about entering your room by mistake!"

He took a deep breath. With two steps he brought himself to the window. The cold wind came into the room, so he closed it and said: "Well, my name's Jack... that's my American name, anyway. I love hamburgers very much. I like baseball and my hero is Genghis khan. And just so I don't forget to say it, I'd even kill a person over a hundred dollars."

He started to laugh outrageously, like he had just heard the funniest joke in the world. Christopher realized he needed to lead the speaking topic to the mainstream. So he asked: "Are you Iranian?"

The smile disappeared from the boy's lips. He stared at Christopher with surprise. But after a few seconds his surprise decreased and with half a laugh he said: "Probably you are familiar with the Persian language. Yes? When you kicked me, I unconsciously spoke in Persian. You understand from that? Yes? Is it true? I should say..."

He cut himself off and with shock continued: "Maybe...maybe...are you Iranian?"

Christopher nodded and said calmly: "Yes, I am."

Jack spun himself around like a top and exclaimed: "Oh my God, I can't believe it. If Genghis Khan were here he would feel like a million bucks today. A countryman, in New York!"

He came toward Christopher, stopping one step before him. He extended his right hand toward him and warmly said in Persian: "Hi. I'm Jack. What's your name?"

Christopher like a soulless and apathetic person looked at his outstretched hand. He didn't have any desire to shake hands with him. Jack understood, and with a little annoyance removed the smile from his face then drew his hand back and with an uncertain voice said: "Hey, boy I don't know if you really are Iranian. At least as I remember it, Iranians are not so apathetic. In fact, I'm one hundred percent sure you are an American. In these thirteen or fourteen years among them, I haven't seen anything besides discipline and apathetic behavior."

He gave a long sigh and went back to the window. He put his hand on the windowsill and with a little hesitation said: "Well, a boy who doesn't want to tell me his name! I'm 17, displaced, lonely, orphaned...I mean both of my parents are dead. They are in heaven or hell or...and also I'm penniless. I think you already noticed this, maybe."

Christopher listened to Jack's word and didn't speak, but against his nature he asked: "Your parents are dead?"

Jack with a grimace said: "Well, God sent the angel of death and they both died."

The annoyance was clear in his voice. After a few seconds he continued: "My father died when we lived in Shiraz. (One of the important cities of Iran) I think I was just three or four years old at that time. I don't remember exactly, but it was between three and four. After my father's death, my mother and I came to the U.S. We went to New Jersey at first. My uncle lived there. We planned to live with him for a while to find somewhere to live but when we arrived in New Jersey we couldn't find him. We looked for him, displaced and lonely in this city for a few weeks, but we couldn't find him. When we finally found an address it brought us to stalemate instead of my fucking uncle. After a few weeks we realized we needed to keep the wolf from the door so we went to New York. Through one of my mother's friend she found a job in Manhattan. My mother's only friend in the U.S. could only find her a job in a restaurant."

With a voice that Christopher didn't like he continued: "She washed dishes in that restaurant until six months ago."

Tears flowed on his cheeks. Like a person who carries a heavy load on his shoulders, he sat on the floor and continued: "My mother always said to me, 'Study well to keep the wolf from the door,' but her stupid son didn't listen to her. God damn me!" he shouted. "I didn't even help her in her restaurant job. That lonely and sick women had to wake up in the early morning and work until late in a restaurant to make money for us. But I behaved like a selfish child. I just didn't care about my mother. She was not important to me. Can you understand?! I didn't care about my mother's problems..."

He wiped away the tears with his back of his hand. For a few seconds he stared into space and then slowly and calmly continued: "My mother grew thinner and sicker every day. She didn't say anything about her illness to me. She didn't want me to know anything about that. But she couldn't do it forever, and six months ago at work..."

Sadness choked his throat and didn't let him finish his sentence. Christopher completed it in his mind. But Jack while he tried not to cry any more, continued: "As long as our parents are alive we don't know what gifts we have, but when they are gone we just understand what a disaster come to us."

He took a breath and continued: "Just like me. After my mother died I was wandering the streets. When we came to this country we were just allowed to stay here for six months. At first we thought we could extend it with my uncle's help, but when we couldn't find him we lived here with phony IDs! But when my mother died the police found out and I couldn't even be at my mother's funeral. If I were there, the police would have arrested me and because I didn't have any relatives in this country the orphanage was the best place they could send me. At least if they didn't deport me from this country! I had to run away. At first I didn't know where should I go, but after a few days I realized being orphaned is better than sleeping in the streets...well, I think fate makes a different life for everyone and we could all do anything."

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Continue: Chapter 3 (Christopher section 9)

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