The Long Journey Home,Part Two: The Best Way Out

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Mystery and Crime  |  House: Booksie Classic
They have to get out of there! Their lives are in danger. One mistake and they are dead. What is the best way out!?

Submitted: April 20, 2017

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Submitted: April 19, 2017

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The Long Journey Home

 

Part 2: The Best Way Out

 

The car was now approaching a very dark tunnel. “Fuck you man!" shouted Bob sitting in the back. "Why the hell are you takin us... into that dragon hole?”

“Excuse your dad's language, Missy,” said John turning half way to face the girl behind him “He's still dead drunk! He's usually a lot more polite -- when he is sober!”

 “Fuck them all!” said the other girl sitting in the back. “Men are all the same, drunk or sober!”

“Hey!” said Firooz, the driver, trying to turn towards the girl in the back laughing, “This slave girl speak dirty English!”

“With such a good accent, too,” said John making a grimace as he turned around to look back “Where're you from, Miss?”

“None of your damn business!” said the girl harshly. “I'm not gettin a damn thing…out of what this dummy is sayin!”

 “He talks like this because he learned his pigeon English from his passengers here and there. He’s never been abroad or attended any English classes.”

No one said anything anymore.The whole area had grown dead quiet now. They had come out of the tunnel and were moving fast on a highway surrounded by huge trees. The whole area was submerged in heavy mist gently moving about. It looked like they were passing through a magic forest in the middle of a cloudy sky.

  “The trees look…so much taller now….when we came,” mumbled Bob after a while. “How could they…have grown….so much in a couple of days !?”

 “I’m glad your head is beginning to clear up, Bob,” muttered John as he turned around to look at him. “You should watch the fascinating scenery around you. You can’t see anything like it in very many parts of the world.”

“Yeah!” said Firooz, the driver, “We have heaven here! Stupid people go  to  heaven in America!”

John turned further back to look at the girl sitting next to the window in there. “I was told that …you were the native of this country,” he said staring at the girl, “Your name and all… seem to show that, too, but …you talk like…”

 “That’s what I told … those mother-fuckers!” grumbled the girl. “I didn’t wan them to know!”

“Jesus Christ!!” exclaimed Bob. “What a…terribly dirty language! Where in the world did she grow up?”

“She is a good person, Dad,” said the girl sitting next to Bob. “She is just too tense now and ….a little scared.” She paused for a few seconds before she added, “You were not in a better shape yourself until half an hour ago!”

“Don’t be scared girl!” said the driver trying to turn around to look at the woman behind him. “I will get you home very quick, you beautiful!”

A few minutes later, the car gained speed. “You should watch out… for the highway patrol guys,” said the girl sitting next to Bob. “If they catch us, we may get into big trouble again. We were both sold to the slave traders this morning!”

 “Don’t worry…about that, my angel, Fereshteh darling,” said Bob, “We’ve… bought you back. We paid them… sixty…. million!”

 There was a short pause and then the girl asked, “Who did you pay, the guy at the office?”

 “Yes!” said John emphatically. “Actually, your father paid them. I just used his credit card.”

There was another break before the girl spoke again, “The guy who sold us was wearing a uniform when he first arrived in the shelter. He was a major or colonel or something. I don’t think the office guy had the authority to replace the commodities he had sold. He probably cheated and changed our pictures or names or something with someone else’s to make it look like we were among the returnees. But, sooner or later, they’ll find out. They may not give a damn about the girls they’re sending back, but they sure care for those they’ve already sold! They will lose a whole lot of money if they don’t!”

 “My God!” exclaimed Bob, “You seem to know …so much … about this country! Are you sure of…all this!?”

The girl giggled for a second and then frowned. “I hung around with one of the returnees for a while…in the Karaj shelter,” she explained looking at John sitting next to the driver. “She told me all about the system here before she was taken away.”

“Didju really…believe everything that the girl toldju, Fereshteh darling?” mumbled Bob. “It sounds like a… fairy tale…or something!”

“Fairy tale my ass!” exclaimed the other girl. “This was the second time they took me there. I was lucky the first time! They just raped me six or seven times and sent me back." She stopped to catch her breath before she began again. "I was told I had to wait for the next group of bidders to arrive 'to get a well-paid job abroad.’ I cried like hell all the way back!” She paused for a few seconds before she went on, “I didn’t have a hunch that I was the lucky one that time! My friend, Sara, who was chosen…is now a slave-whore somewhere in Saudi Arabia!”

 “Can you guys speak slow…so I can understand, too?” asked the driver looking back before he suddenly stepped hard on the brakes. 

 “My God, Firooz!”exclaimed John, “What in the hell are you doing!”

 The car skidded some ten feet before it stopped. “Sorry!” said the driver, “I can fix this, I think! You don’t worry much!”

He opened the car door and gently stepped out. Two police officers were standing in the middle of the road. A patrol car was on the side of the highway flashing its red light trumpet.

 “We’d better get out of this fucking car and run!” said the girl sitting near the door bending down her head and trunk. “If they catch us again, we’ll either wind up in the Saudi market, or  in a graveyard shithouse!”

“I’ve got a gun,” said John solemnly. “If they try to take you, I’ll shoot them both!”  He then moved his torso forward and took something out of the glove compartment. “This belonged to a policeman too, once!” he added proudly.

The girl gently moved up and cautiously looked out of the window of the car. The driver was now standing beside one of the cops, smiling. Soon he began chuckling. One of the policemen was laughing too.

“I think…he is selling us out for peanuts!” said Bob sluggishly, still somewhat dazed.

Many vehicles were going past them now. They all slowed down as they approached the patrol car and sped up after they had passed it. Soon the driver began walking gently back.  He shook his head as he took his seat. “It cost… hundred thousand,” he mumbled as he sat behind the wheel.

  “Not a high price for our freedom!” said John. “Your Dad paid thirty million for your freedom,” he added with a grin.

“He a generous man!” said Firooz, the driver , “He should pay me much much more!” he added. “They want to search the car.  They say who is those bitches in car? I say they are my sister. They say you must pay fifty for speedin and two hundred for your bitch sisters’ assholes!”

“You’re an asshole yourself, you mother-fucker!” shouted the girl sitting next to Fereshteh. “You’d better save your own fucked up ass!”

The driver shrugged his shoulders muttered a few things and pressed hard on the gas pedal.

 Soon the highway came to an end and they reached an urban area.

 “If you wano eat somethin, I can stop here,” Firooz said. “It’s a big town. There won’t be any more…for two three hour!”

 “We’d better not stop anywhere,” John retorted. “It’s too risky to get off the car. We can eat when we get home!”

 “How in the world…did you get caught, Sima?” asked John soon after they went past the town. “Sima is your name, I suppose, isn’t it!?”

“It was …easy!” said the girl. “An English friend of mine…and I…were walking in the street…when a police van…stopped us and arrested us for wearing improper clothes.”

 “Oh yeah?” said Bob surprised. “What kind of improper clothes… were you wearing!?...Topless bathing suits…? Bikinis…with no bottoms? Or… what?”

 “I think you are still a bit drunk, Bob,” said John turning back to look at him. “You think this place is a Bahama beach or something!?”

 “I was arrested for that reason too,” said Fereshteh. “I think my scarf was too small for them and my slacks too tight! But the main problem was that I didn’t want to give them my grandma’s address lest they would trouble her; and they thought I was a runaway girl with no place to stay and no one to turn to. That’s why they sent me to the Karaj shelter.”

 “What happened to your British friend?” John asked turning to Sima after a while.

“She was…jailed too,” Sima answered after a few seconds. “I think…they’ve sent her to the Emirates…as a slave.”

“Oh Yeah!?” asked Bob surprised. “You mean to say that she had no one… what-so-ever to look for her!? No family relations… , no friends,… no government support?”

 Sima shrugged her shoulders. “She didn’t, I guess, or maybe for some reason… she didn’t want to ask anyone for help!”

 “How did you come to get stuck with those people?” asked John turning back towards her. “I heard you were living with your mother and step-father …and that you had a pretty good life….until a year ago or so?”

The girl shrugged her shoulders again, “I guess I did … until about two years back…when … I got married.”

 Now everyone was looking at her. The driver was turning his body and it was only when John pushed his head away that he started looking at the road.

“You mean… your troubles began… after you got married?” asked Bob shaking his head trying to do away with the remaining influence of alcohol.

“No,” Sima said, “not after….getting married. They began before that!” She looked out of the window for some seconds and then continued, “You see, a suitor had come… for my step-sister. It was an older man … and he was pretty ugly.  My sister didn’t want to marry a guy like that. So my step-father insisted that … since the suitor was wealthy, I’d better marry him instead so I could …give some of the guy’s money to him in return for my past expenses.”  She stopped and since the car was now going up a very steep winding road with forests all around it everyone began looking at the scenery.

“I didn’t know about this,” finally Fereshteh said. “Did they really force you to marry that guy!?”

“In a way, yes!” said Sima. “You see, I wasn’t very happy about staying with my step-father and my step-sisters, and I was looking for an opportunity to get out of that house. So, I pretended to agree with my step-father.” She stopped again and began looking out of the window.“You never told me about any of this!” said Fereshteh, “I thought you had just come to the area because you had a good job offer or something…”

Sima shrugged her shoulders, “Well, that may’ve been part of it…but not all! You see, I married the guy while I had a good boyfriend and three older friends who wished to marry me, one of whom was … my English teacher.”

 “It’s beginning to… sound like a… love story!” said Bob, “Are you sure… you’re not making it all up!?”

 Sima laughed. “If you think I’m makin it all up, why do you want me to go on  tellin you? You’d like to hear  fairy tales or somethin?”

“Don’t take him seriously, dear girl!” said John. “As you can see, he’s still a bit loaded!”

 “Yah, he may be right,” said Bob. “Don’t mind me!  Just go on with your story.”

 “There isn’t really much to say,” muttered Sima, “I don’t want to make you people bored.” She coughed and then added, “I married the guy but,  I didn’t break up with my boyfriend either. I didn’t even cut off my relationship with those older guys.”

“It’s really becoming exciting!” said Bob looking thrilled.

 “I don want marry a nasty woman like that!” said Firooz who had been all ears. 

“Well, you don’t have to,” said John. “The girl’s already married!”

“Where are we going from here?” Sima suddenly asked, looking at John. “You said my father sent you to take me back!”

“Yah, a sort of,” said John. “Of-course I never met your father. A client of mine offered me the job and I accepted it. What’s more, I didn’t say for sure that I would take you back because…, to tell you the truth, I wasn’t so sure I could do it!”

“Well you’ve accomplished your task,” said Bob, “with the help of my money of-course!”

 “I guess you are finally sober!” said John. “I just hope you remember that I rescued your daughter, too, in the process!”

“You God damn it!” said Firooz in protest. “I’m drivin! I get tired! I want hear interesting story! Please let her tell!”

 “There isn’t much left to say, man,” said Sima. She paused for a while but no one spoke. They all seemed to be waiting for her to start again.

“A while after the marriage,” she began indifferently, “my old-bag husband, who was getting tired of me, claimed that I’d had sexual relations with other men and I had to be stoned to death according to Islamic law. When we went to court, my lawyer told me that my husband needed five witnesses to testify in court that they had seen me have sex with those people in order to win the case. He then added that, since my husband was not a very popular man in the area, no one would take the risk of lying in court to support him. Eventually my attorney suggested that since I was so pretty and all, if I were willing ‘to be nice’ to him, to the district attorney, and to the judge, I could win in the court.” She stopped and looked around. Everybody was eagerly staring at her to hear the rest of the story. A second later the driver shouted, “Okay! What happened? Tell!”

Sima laughed. “Nothing really,” she continued, “I spent one night with my lawyer, one night with the district attorney, and two nights with the judge. My husband lost the case and everybody began blaming him for false accusations to scandalize his own wife!”

“Oh God!” said Fereshteh, “I didn’t know you were such a tricky, mean girl! What happened then?”

“Well,” answered Sima, “With the help of the attorneys and judges, I sued my husband for a number of things which were legally due to me. He forced to give me his house and its furniture, as well as all the money he had in his bank accounts to pay me the funds which were legally due to me. In addition, he had to spend seven months in jail in order to be forced to pay the money he had to pay but didn’t have!”

“Oh, God! What a treacherous woman!” exclaimed Bob. “How in the world could you do all that!?  It sounds horrible!”

 “No, Dad,” said Fereshteh. “I think that was not really unfair!” She nodded a few times and added after a pause, “How come you don’t think it was horrible to make a seventeen-year-old girl marry a fifty-five-year-old guy, but it was terrible for the girl to get the money that is legally due to her!? Did you expect her to let them stone her to death and wait to get fair treatment in eternity!?”

 “But she acted like… like a…”said Bob looking around.

“Come on, Bob!” said John making a grimace. “You know good and well that your daughter is right! Why should the poor girl let them give her hell in this world hoping that maybe she will get fair treatment after death , or something!?”

“I…I didn’t...,” mumbled Bob, but did not continue.

They were now going through a tunnel with all its lights turned off and the place was pitch-dark.  So, everybody grew silent.

“I think we  have finished…half of the way,” said Firooz when they rode out of the tunnel. “I want hear…rest of story, please!”

“I think the story is really over,” said John. “My client finds out about her rich daughter’s fate and decides to help her get out of the country! And we know the rest.”

“If she were rich,” said Bob, “how come she couldn’t pay her own way out?” He paused for a second and then added, “If we hadn’t come to rescue my daughter today, this wealthy woman would have become a slave!”

Everyone was now looking at Sima, including the driver who was trying to turn his body all the way around to look at the girl’s face.

 Sima smiled, “I said I won the case and got the money, but I didn’t say that I won the fight!” She looked down at her own feet and added after a long pause, “Now that I had money and my own house, I decided to continue my studies. I became a university student and was about to finish my second term when one day…:” She stopped again in order to cough a few times and then added, “I was arrested for wearing indecent clothes and was sent to the Karaj shelter without any questioning. I guess they did not need to ask me any questions because they already knew all the answers! My ex-husband had a number of friends in some government agencies!” 

“What happened to your house and money?” asked Firooz, turning his head around again.

“Well, they can’t take the house away,” said John, “So, my client will surely get his daughter’s property out of their hands.”

“Do you have any evidence, I mean…documents and things, showing that the house belongs to you?” John asked turning to Sima.

There was a long pause. “I must have them some place,” Sima said eventually. “I don’t really remember!”

 “I can find for you!” said Firooz shaking his head repeatedly.

 “It’s no time for you to go abroad then,” said Bob after a time.

The car had climbed a high mountain and was now going through a very long tunnel.

“I have to go!” said Sima as they finally came out of the noisy tunnel. “I’m really fed up! I must get out of this country!”

“How did your dad find out about all this?” asked Fereshteh. “Did you contact him from ‘The Shelter’ somehow?”

 “Yeah,” said Sima after a pause. “I sent him a message, through a friend.”

“Yes, my pal, who told me about your father’s plan, said that Mr. Borji had learned about your misfortune through a friend.” He shook his head and then asked facing Sima, “By the way, is your family name Borji or Gorji?”

“Borgi,” said Sima softly, “or Bergi rather.”

“Longest tunnel finished. We will be in Karaj city soon,” declared the driver, “Only seventy kilometer  left!”

“Oh God!” said Fereshteh with distress, “Do we have to go through that horrifying town again!?”

“Don be afraid, Miss,” said the driver, “It is very good city! Very nice people!”

“No need to go there, Firooz,”said Bob. “These kids have terrible memories of the place. Go past it as fast as you can!”

“Yes, sir,” said Firooz pressing the gas pedal accelerating down the steep road.

“Thank you, buddy,” said Sima, “I don’t even want to see the sight of that horrible place from a distance! It makes me a nervous wreck!”

“Where did you learn such good English,” asked John turning back towards Sima.”

 “Where!?” asked Sima looking a bit surprised. “Well,” she added after a while, “As I toldju, I had a very good English teacher. A good-looking young man! He was my boyfriend for some time.”

 “A nice… sexy teacher, huh!?” said Bob still a bit drowsy.

 Soon they went through a tunnel and then a few others. They began counting them while looking at the beautiful scenery of the mountains, the forest and the river flowing right below them. Then they reached a steep winding road, and Firooz slowed down a little. They fell asleep one after another.

“Hey guys,” Firooz suddenly said loudly, “You’d better wake up! There is a cop car!”

At the bottom of the hill that the car was descending, two patrol cars were parked surrounded by a few officers and a number of passenger cars and people. They all sat up quickly putting their clothes in order.

“You people…sit strong!” said Firooz loudly. “I may go…very very fast. Okay?”

“Take it easy now,” mumbled John. “They may not be looking for us!”

When they approached the place, one of the patrolmen signaled them to stop. A minute later an officer came towards them. He mumbled something commandingly. “Yes Sir!” said Firooz taking out his documents. He then handed them all to the man. The officer looked at them very carefully for a while and  nodded  his head. He then stared at the people sitting inside the car one by one, smiled and stepped back. He mumbled some more things to the driver before  he returned the documents and began walking towards the other patrolmen. 

 “Yes, sir!” said Frirooz looking at John, as he took off.

 “What did he want?” asked Fereshteh tensely after the place was out of their sight.

“Nothin!” answered the driver. “Just a little dough! That’s all!”

 “How much?” asked John as they began descending another steep winding road.

“Hundred thousand,” answered Firouz.

“What did he say….after he got the money?” asked Sima.

 “Nothin! He just told me not to drive so fast,” said Firooz as he pressed hard on the gas pedal laughing.

The car was now going through a forest-like area with a narrow asphalt road. Everyone was dozing again when they entered another tunnel. After going through a very crowded street, they reached a wide highway.

“We will be home in forty minute,” declared the driver.

 “They’re all asleep,” said John with eyes half closed.

 “Poor people,” said Firooz, “It look like they did not sleep for million year!”

“You just watch the road!” said John commandingly pointing to the heavy traffic pouring in from all sides.

An hour later they were near the place where John lived. “We’d better not go there directly,” John said to Bob who was now wide awake. “Why?” asked Bob. “Do you think they may have your address or something?”

 “Well,” said John, “I didn’t give them my exact address but … I’m afraid I wrote the name of our alleyway. Stupidly enough, I couldn’t think of another street name at that moment… and I was afraid to give them a phony name for fear that they’d discover it was fake!”

“Well then,” said Bob, “Let’s just keep our fingers crossed and our eye wide open!”

“Don worry a bit!” said Firooz confidently. “I’ll park you here and walk in the alley myself. If I see anybody waiting to catch you, I will come and tell! Okay?”

“What else can we do!?” said Fereshteh despairingly.

“We’d better go … somewhere else,” said Sima nervously.

The driver looked at everybody’s face one by one, smiled gently, and strolled away.

Ten lifelong minutes later he walked back shaking his head. “I suspicious a little!” he said frowning. “There is a man… selling vegetables in middle of alley. Another man sitting… a little farther away shining shoes!”

“So what!?” asked Bob. “Why are you suspicious of a vegetable peddler and a shoe-shiner!?”

“The secret police use this trick sometimes, I’ve heard,” said Fereshteh. “They used to keep people’s houses under watch that way. Maybe Firooz knows something.”

 “What should we do then?” asked Bob.

 “Oh, God!” Firooz suddenly said looking to his left.

 A police car was gently approaching them. Firooz shook his head, turned around, and quickly walked towards it.

 “I hope he can handle them this time too,” John said.

 “Are you sure… he is handling them!?” asked Bob staring at John’s face.  “Did you actually see him give those cops the bribe last time?”

John made a grimace and shrugged his shoulders.

“Maybe…that sun-of-a-bitch is working for the cops!” exclaimed Sima. “I think we should get out of here while we have the chance!”

They all began staring at the driver standing by the side of the police car talking to someone in there.

 “John,” said Bob softly, “Maybe you should get behind the steering wheel and be ready to … drive away… just in case.”

“No,” John said firmly. “It’s useless running away. They’ll catch us in no time, and they’ll be more suspicious. We’d better be patient and take our chances with Firooz.”

They had to wait a few more long minutes before Firooz returned. He sat behind the wheel without saying a word and turned on the engine.. “Where the hell are we goin!?” asked Sima angrily.

“You wait!” said Firooz as he sped up the car.

“No! You wait! You son-of-a-bitch!” said Sima in a louder voice.

“Take it easy!” said Fereshteh looking at Sima. “He’ll tell us where he’s going in a second.”

 “No! I won’t!” said Firooz shaking his head. “I don have no idea where I’m goin!”

“What the hell do you mean!?” asked John now getting annoyed.

 “I told the cop guys that I was looking for a place…to take my passengers. They gave me the address…and I said thank you and goodbye. They don know who we are. They let me go because I made them donkey!”

 Fereshteh began to laugh. “So ‘you made them donkey’, huh!?”  she said after a while, still giggling. “He means he fooled them!” she said  looking at John after a few seconds.

 “So! What are we going to do now?” asked Bob.

“I don’t have the faintest idea!” answered John, aggravated.

 “I have an idea,” said Sima after a few seconds. “I know of someone who might give us a place to stay for the night. We can make our plans there and leave tomorrow.”

 “Oh, really?” Said Fereshteh surprised “You never said you had any friends or relatives in this city! Who are they?”

“It is…,”said Sima after a long pause, “some old uncle of my father’s. I haven’t seen them for… quite a while.”

“Will they really give us a place to sleep for the night?” asked Bob.

 “I guess…so,” said Sima wearily. “We don’t have any other choice, do we?”

 “I can…take you to my own house,” said Firooz, “but… it is very very small …and dirty.”

“No thanks,” Bob said. “Let’s try the young lady’s uncle’s house. We will think of something else if it doesn’t work!”

“Okay,” said Sima. “I think it’s not very far from here. Just turn right at the next intersection. I will tell you where to go after that.”

 “Wonderful memory you have!” said John. “After all those years of …fighting your husband and all… in the north of the country…!”

They all sat tight in their places for about thirty minutes watching Sima giving Firooz directions. Finally the car slowed down and stopped.

“Are you sure…it is here?” asked Firooz after turning off the engine.

“Yeah, quite sure!” answered Sima. “I have been here…several…times. It’s the third door.”

 “You don’t mean third on the right, do you?” asked Firooz in a rather tense voice.

“Yes, I do!” said Sima looking surprised, “How didju know!?”

 “God!” said Firooz loudly. “How did I know!?  That’s a whore house! I’ve been there a few time myself!” Then shouted, while hurriedly turning on the engine,“Can’t you see the police car on other side of street? There’s always  police car there waiting… to catch whores who run away!”

“Now I know the reason for your dirty language!” said John looking at Sima as the car dashed away from the area. “You are a common prostitute!”

He then turned around pointing his gun at her.  “No wonder you didn’t know Sima’s last name! I should’ve thrown you out of the car the moment you gave me the wrong answer about her family name!”

 “What answer?” asked Fereshteh. “Don’t you have her identity card… with her name and picture?”

“Those office bastards can do anything!” said Firooz now slowing down the car because of heavy traffic. “They can make an I.D. card in two minute!”

“Please take us to a deserted place quickly!” said John to Firooz commandingly! “This bitch may be a police agent. We’ve got to find out what she’s up to and what she’s done to my client’s daughter!”

 “Yes, sir, by all means!” said Firooz. “I’d like to do something to her myself!”

“No need for any of that,” said the girl, “I’ll tell you the whole story willingly.”

 “So you’re not Sima!” said Fereshteh,”Is that right?”

 “No, I’m not!” the girl said. “But you don’t have to worry about her. For all I know, she is safe and sound – for the time being at least!”

“How do you mean?” asked Fereshteh.

 “Well, you see,” she began to explain, “Sima and I were together in that so-called shelter for quite some time. We became such close friends that we told each other the details of our life stories. The account I gave you about my past history was actually a part of her life story -- exactly as she had told me herself...!” She stopped to take a long breath and then continued, “So, when she was picked to be sent to Saudi Arabia to become…a slave… and I noticed how miserable she felt…I told her that …I would go in her place.” She stopped, rubbed her eyes a few times and added, “Sima and I look somewhat alike. We changed our hairdos, the form of our eyebrows, our makeup, and finally… our I.D cards.”

 “You mean to tell me that,” said John angrily, “in a short period of time  you had become such great friends that you decided to let yourself become a slave in order to help her out!?”

“Well, I should say yes and no!” answered the girl, “You see, I am a British subject. My name is Monica and I was born in London. If I were sent to Saudi Arabia, I could somehow find my way to the British Embassy and seek their help and support. So, I was planning to kill two birds with one stone. I was goino help my friend out of slavery… and myself out of this country.”

“Oh, yeah!?” said John cynically, “May I ask you then what in the hell was a British girl like you doing in a shelter for runaway girls in Karaj!?”

The girl called Monica shrugged her shoulders, “It’s a long story,” she whispered shaking her head. She stared out of the window of the car for a little while and then added, “I was a bar girl in London before I met Fredi.”

She paused a few seconds and then continued, “Fredi was a good-looking rich man. He was working in their embassy and told me that he had a very wealthy family and a huge house in his country. We got to become pretty good friends soon… and after a while he asked me to marry him.” She paused again to wipe her eyes, and then added, “One day he came to me and said that his term of office in the embassy had come to an end, and he was going to go back home for good. He, then , asked me to go along with him. We went to their embassy the next day and they filled out some forms showing that we were married. A couple of days later we came to this city.”

“A pretty nice story!” said John. “Then may I ask how you ended up in a whorehouse if you were married to a local diplomat?”

“Fate or whatever you want to call it,” mumbled Monica. “When that man asked me to marry him I got so happy that I felt I was going to fly with him to paradise. All the things I had heard about this country suddenly became so trivial that I didn’t bother to give it a second thought.” She paused for a minute before she continued, “I don’t really know if Fredi, whose real name was Farajollah, was really a diplomat or not. He said he was… and he seemed to have a lot of friends at their embassy. But when we came here, I realized that he was not all that rich and his house was not half as big as he had boasted. What’s more, he was living with his mother and father and a brother who attempted to rape me every day! Then one night when he had grabbed me, my husband suddenly arrived and got so furious that he threw me out of the house.” She stopped and began to sob.

“Okay, young lady,” said Bob, “We are all sorry about what happened to you, but we don’t have much time to worry about those things right now! We’re in deep trouble ourselves!”

“Yes, my dad is right,” said Fereshteh. “We have to find ourselves a safe place to stay for the night. So please sum up the story and…”

“There isn’t much else to say,” whispered Monica. “You know the rest of it. That night, when I was thrown out of the house, I began looking for a policeman to help me out. Fortunately, as I thought then, a police car was parked right across the street. I ran to them and told them the whole story. They said they would take me to a safe-house for the night and I could file a complaint against my husband the next day.”

 “Maybe…same police car we saw tonight!” said Firooz.

There was a long heavy silence before Firooz added, “I think they phone those cops…to come there when they want send a girl to Karaj shelter. I guess…they fool pretty girls and bring them  here…to sell to Arabs.”

There was another lengthy pause before Firooz spoke again, “We are near my place. I think you should all come…and sleep with me tonight.  I’m sure we can, together, find…the best way out…tomorrow!”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

[WU1]


© Copyright 2020 Herman Azadi. All rights reserved.

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