Moon at Nine

by Deborah Ellis

  ‘My parents will get us out. My parents will get us out. My parents will get us out.’

  Farrin repeated the phrase over and over, just to hear the sound of her voice.

  Then she had another thought. What if her parents had been arrested? What if the Revolutionary Guard arrested the whole party for drinking alcohol and having photos of the crown prince and the Shah? If her parents were in jail, who would help her then? And if no one helped her, how would she help Sadira?

  She had to have more information about the terrible place she was in. There had to be someone here who would take pity on her because she was so young, or because she had never been arrested before, or because she got good grades. There must be someone she could ask to check on her parents or to help her get a lawyer.

  ‘Excuse me,’ she whispered to the sleeping women. ‘Excuse me. I’m sorry to wake you, but I need some help.’

  The women didn’t stir.

  Farrin raised her blindfold a little more and glance at the little door opening. No one was watching at the door. She scuttled across the floor to get closer to her cellmates.

  She didn’t have far to go. The cell was small. She reached out to touch the foot of one of the women and gave it a gentle shake.

  ‘Excuse me,’ she said. Then, when there was no response, she shook the foot harder. ‘Wake up! Wake up! I need to talk to you!’

  There was still no response. Farrin began to get a terrible, terrible feeling.

  She had to know for sure. She inched forward until she was at the woman’s head. She lifted the woman’s scarf. Dead eyes stared back at her.

  Farrin screamed.

  And screamed. And screamed.

  She slid back to the other wall and crouched, screaming. The women in the cell – they were all dead. She had been put in a cell with dead women.

  The door opened suddenly behind her and she fell back against the legs of a guard.

  ‘On your feet,’ the guard said. ‘What are you screaming for? Dead people can’t hurt you. And fix your blindfold. That’s the last time I’m going to tell you.’

  Farrin stood. Her hands were bound again, this time in front of her. Then the guard clamped her claw on Farrin’s arm and pulled her down the hall.

  ‘You are going to be asked some questions,’ the guard said. ‘It is better if you answer. Better for you, better for everyone. Would you like to tell me anything before we get to the interrogation room?’

  ‘Where are my parents?’ Farrin asked. ‘Have they been arrested?’

  ‘I asked if you wanted to tell me anything, not if you wanted to ask me anything.’

  ‘My parents didn’t know Sadira was in the house.’

  ‘You’ll have to do better than that.’ They stopped before a door. ‘Last chance. Anything?’

  Farrin didn’t know how to answer. What did the guard want to know? She hesitated, trying to think, but it didn’t matter. Time was up. The guard opened the door and shoved Farrin inside.

  Someone pushed her down into a metal chair. She could hear people moving around her. How many others were in the room? Someone lit a cigarette. Someone else shuffled their feet. She thought that the guard had stepped away from her but was still somewhere in the room.

  Whoever was smoking dropped the cigarette to the ground when it was done and ground it out with his heel. He lit up another one. Farrin counted five cigarettes lit and dropped before the door opened and someone else entered.

  Farrin’s blindfold was removed.

  An older man in robes instead of a military uniform sat behind the table. He silently read from a piece of paper, then he looked up at her.

  ‘What do you have to say for yourself?’ he asked. His voice was low and without inflection. It terrified Farrin more than if he had shouted.

  ‘I have done nothing wrong,’ she said.

  ‘Then why are you here?’

  ‘Someone must have made a mistake.’

  ‘Do you think the government makes mistakes?’

  Principal Kobra could work here, Farrin thought. She opened her mouth to say something back, then closed it again. She remembered Principal Kobra’s words. ‘Be careful you do not have too much confidence.’

  The man looked at her as if he had all the time in the world. ‘What would you like to tell me about this mistake that has been made?’

  ‘I am a good student,’ Farrin said. ‘I was second in my class last term.’

  ‘Your job is to go to school,’ the man said. ‘The people of Iran have decided to fund your education, so your job is to do well. So, you did your job. Do you want me to applaud you for doing your job?’

  ‘No, sir.’

  ‘Do you think people applaud me when I do my job? No. That is just what is expected. Do you have anything else to say?’

  ‘May I ask a question?’

  ‘We are having a conversation. You do not need permission to ask questions during a conversation. Do you think I would be mad at you for asking a question?’

  Farrin took a deep breath. ‘Where are my parents?’ she asked.

  ‘You are concerned about your parents. That is good, but that will not get you applause either. You are supposed to be concerned about your parents.’

  He hadn’t answered her question.

  ‘What else do you have to offer to me, other than your work at school and your supposed concern for your parents?’

  ‘I don’t know what you mean,’ Farrin said.

  ‘Well, you could start by telling me who was the leader?’

  ‘The leader?’

  ‘One of you forced the other into this state of depravity. Did you force her, or did she force you?’

  ‘No one forced anyone,’ Farrin said, then bit her tongue. She had been caught. She had just admitted that she was depraved.

  ‘I won’t take down that answer just yet,’ the man said. ‘I am merciful, and you might want to change your mind later. Who else was involved in your depravity?’

  Farrin did not reply.

  ‘The Head Girl at your school, the girl named Rabia – was she the one who recruited you to this way of life?’

  Farrin was startled to hear Rabia’s name.

  ‘Rabia? How is she? Is she here?’

  ‘She was.’

  There was something about the way he said it that held Farrin back from asking more.

  He stopped talking then, and they just sat.

  After a number of minutes had ticked by, he spoke again.

  ‘Are you prepared to give us the names of the others involved in your activities?’

  ‘What activities?’ Farrin asked. She was now genuinely confused. Did he mean her mother’s Bring Back the Shah meetings? Did he mean writing stories about demon hunters? What did he mean?

  He clarified it for her.

  ‘It is clear that you have engaged in illegal, immoral activities with the girl named Sadira. This is a growing problem in Iran. Young women and young men in Iran think they can do whatever they want. They are mimicking the indecency of the West, and we mean to bring it to a stop. It is against God and it is against nature. What you have done is treason against the established order. The only way you might save yourself is if you tell us who else is involved in this. Give us names if you hope to save yourself.’

  Who else? Were there other girls who felt the way Farrin and Sadira felt? In spite of herself, Farrin smiled. She was glad that there were other girls who felt as happy as she had felt. She was not alone.

  ‘You seem to take this situation lightly,’ the man said. ‘That is an interesting response. Do you have anything more to say to me?’

  ‘Let us go,’ Farrin said.

  The man motioned to Farrin’s guard. The blindfold went back on Farrin’s face and she was taken from the room.

  ‘Where are you taking me?’ she asked. ‘Don’t put me back in that cell! Don’t put me back in that cell with the dead people. Don’t put me back there!’

  She dropped to the floor. She would not h
elp them! She would not move one inch if they were taking her back to that awful room!

  ‘You won’t be going back to that room,’ the guard said. ‘At least, not while you’re breathing.’

  Other arms pulled her up and dragged her down the hall.

  They took her to another corridor and pushed her to the wall.

  ‘Sit,’ they said.

  She sat.

  NINETEEN

  HER BLINDFOLD WAS tight, so she could not see, but she could hear other people around her.

  No one was talking, but they still made sounds. Farrin listened hard and was able to tell that others were sitting nearby in a row along the wall, to the left of her. Guards walked back and forth along the line of prisoners. Farrin could tell they were guards because of the sound of their army boots against the concrete floor. She wanted to say Sadira’s name but did not. Sadira would have responded, and then both of them would be beaten.

  Then she remembered their signal.

  She coughed three times.

  There was no reply.

  Time passed. Farrin had no way to keep track of it. If daylight could penetrate the corridor, she couldn’t see it through her blindfold. Could daylight penetrate hell?

  Every now and then, someone called out a name and Farrin heard the sounds of a prisoner getting to their feet and then being guided into another room.

  Sometimes she could hear shouting. She was able to decipher some of the words. ‘Give us a name!’ ‘Tell us what you know!’ The questions were often followed by screams. Sometimes the screams went on and on.

  Shut up! Farrin wanted to yell. The sounds were unbearable. More screams, the crack of a lash hitting human skin, the sound of bone hitting bone. Sounds that Farrin could not begin to identify.

  I’m in an Edgar Allen Poe story, she thought. I am in ‘The Pit and the Pendulum.’

  Her back hurt from tension and from sitting on the floor. Her legs cramped up and the blindfold was so tight that it was making her head ache. She tried to loosen the blindfold by rubbing the side of her face against her shoulder. Bit by bit, the blindfold shifted slightly. She kept working at it, stopping whenever she heard the boots of the Revolutionary Guard nearby.

  She worked slowly, so that no one would notice what she was doing. Prisoners came and went from the line. Sometimes a door would open and she heard a sound like dragging across the floor, then that noise would stop and be replaced by other sounds. When the screaming stopped, she could hear people whispering prayers. The stench was terrible. People were urinating and defecating on themselves, and everywhere there was a smell of sweat and fear mixed with stale tobacco and blood.

  She kept nudging her blindfold until all it once it fell away.

  ‘Blindfold on!’

  The guard stood at the other end of the line. Farrin had just moments to look around her. She did not dwell on the bodies and wounded people lying nearby. She had to know if Sadira or her parents were there. To her left she saw a long line of prisoners that reached to the wall where the hallway ended. To her right, the hallway went on forever. So did the line of prisoners. She looked as far as she could before the guard reached her and pointed his rifle at her head.

  ‘Blindfold on!’

  There was just enough give in the rope that bound her hands for her to get the blindfold cloth around her head. It was awkward to tie – her headscarf was in the way, and when that slipped, her hair got tangled up in the blindfold. Farrin’s hands shook. The guard’s rifle was still inches from her face.

  ‘Keep it on!’

  Where was Sadira? Where were her parents? Maybe Sadira was already out. They’d know that Farrin would refuse to leave without her friend, so they got Sadira out first. The calmed Farrin. She took her mind out of the blood and fear and sent it back to the gymnasium, where she and Sadira studied.

  She managed to fall asleep.

  Cough, cough, cough.

  Sadira was in her dream, reaching out to her, tucking a strand of hair into her headscarf.

  Cough, cough, cough.

  Why are you coughing, Sadira? Farrin thought in her dream. I’m right here. You can just talk to me.

  Then she sat bolt upright.

  Had someone really coughed three times?

  She coughed three times too, hoping for an answer.

  There was nothing, just the endless weeping and praying in the hallway, along with screaming from one of the rooms.

  She tried again, then held her breath to listen.

  ‘Farrin Kazemi.’ A guardswoman called her name.

  ‘I’m here!’ she shouted. ‘My name is Farrin Kazemi. I’m here and I’m all right!’

  Before she could hear if there was a response from Sadira or her parents, the guard pulled her to her feet and dragged her into a room. Then he tore off her blindfold.

  She was in another small room with another robed man who sat behind another desk.

  ‘You will please sign this confession,’ the man said. He pushed a piece of paper toward her.

  ‘What confession?’ Farrin asked. ‘I have not confessed to anything. I am not signing anything. I want to see my parents.’

  ‘I will tell you again. You will please pick up the pen and sign this confession.’

  They can’t make me sign if I don’t want to. If I don’t sign anything, they can’t hold me for anything.

  ‘I’m not signing.’

  The man in the robe nodded at the guard, who blindfolded her again and hustled her out of the office.

  They turned to the right and started down the long hallway of prisoners. The blindfold had been reapplied a little high, so Farrin could just make out some of the faces of the people on the floor.

  ‘I’m Farrin,’ she whispered over and over, until she got a swat in the head to shut her up.

  The guard took her outside. They walked for a long time. Farrin stumbled more than once over rocks or steps or something else – she couldn’t tell.

  At last they stopped. The guardswoman removed Farrin’s blindfold.

  They were in front of a gallows. Six people swung from ropes along the crossbeam. A line of blindfolded prisoners stood near the platform steps, waiting to be hung.

  ‘This really is your last chance,’ the guard said. ‘You are young, so we are being merciful. But this is it. We have too much to do right now. We don’t have time to play around with a little deviant who won’t confess her transgressions.’

  Farrin looked around wildly. She still couldn’t see Sadira or her parents. The guard left the blindfold off as she took Farrin over to the lineup of prisoners awaiting execution.

  ‘Shooting is faster,’ said the guard. ‘We’ve done a lot of that. We’ll probably have to go back to it – hanging is so slow. But sometimes there are advantages in taking the extra time. Sometimes it can be good to give someone a chance to think things over.’

  Around her, Farrin heard more prayers and weeping.

  ‘Do you want me to leave you in this line?’ the guard asked. ‘I hear you are good at your studies. Here is a bit of maths for you. We hang six people at one time. Each group hanging takes around twenty minutes. There are thirty people in this line in front of you. If I leave you here, how much time do you have left to live?’

  Farrin began to cry. The sky was blue and the sun was bright, and she knew that beyond the wall of the prison people lived their lives, went to school, tried to be happy. She prayed that Sadira was among them.

  If there is any chance at all that she is out there, then I want to live, Farrin decided.

  ‘I’ll sign the confession,’ she said.

  ‘What? I can’t hear you.’

  ‘I’ll sign the confession.’

  ‘Are you sure? I don’t want to take you all the way back to the office only to bring you back out here. That would not put me in a very good mood.’

  ‘I’ll sign it,’ Farrin said. ‘I will. I promise. I want to.’

  The guard shrugged. ‘If that’s what you want. It’s up to you.�
��

  Farrin was ready to go back, but now the guard didn’t seem to be in a hurry at all. She left Farrin in line and started chatting with another guard. More blindfolded prisoners were pushed into the line behind her. As the executions went on, Farrin shuffled closer and closer to the scaffold steps.

  ‘Do you know where you are?’ Farrin asked the man behind her. ‘They’re going to hang you. They’re going to hang everybody.’

  ‘They have already hung my whole family,’ said the man. ‘At least, what was left of it after the war. I don’t want to be here. I want to join them. They’re not killing me. They are sending me back to the people I love.’

  ‘But if we all fight back – ’

  ‘Shhh,’ the man said. ‘I have no fight left. Now, I just want to pray and think of my family. Allow me this small bit of peace.’

  ‘God be with you,’ Farrin said.

  ‘And with you,’ the man replied.

  Six more bodies were taken down. The line moved forward again.

  This is close enough, she decided. She left the line and approached her guard. ‘I’m still here,’ she said.

  The two guards looked at her then at each other.

  ‘Is this the deviant?’ the other guard asked.

  ‘Yup. This is it.’

  ‘I hope it isn’t catching.’

  The guardswoman took her arm and marched her back to the office. The robed man put the confession in front of Farrin. She started to read it.

  ‘Don’t waste our time!’

  She signed her name at the bottom.

  The man took up the piece of paper and looked at Farrin’s signature. He stood up.

  ‘Farrin Kazemi, you have confessed to acts of homosexuality and deviancy, in violation of the laws and morals of the state, and are hereby declared an enemy of the people. You are sentenced to hanging until you are dead. That is all.’

  ‘What?’ Farrin cried. ‘But I thought if I signed I would avoid death! What is this? I want the confession back! You can’t do this! I’m only fifteen!’