Abigail – The Avenging Agent: The agent appears again (30 page)

Within a minute, they were both outside
the building, pressed up close to the outside wall.  Karma searched for the
gunmen in the surrounding darkness and whispered:

“Where are the bastards who fired at
me?”

“Did you think they would wait for you
to come after them?”  She replied softly, “but why do I have the feeling
they’re still around here?”

She pulled his sleeve and turned his
attention to the exaggerated movement of the leaves of a large shrub further
down the road and said:

“Wait here and if they reach you – kill
them.  You have a cover – they don’t.”

She crawled on the sand, going from bush
to bush and made a large circle around the shrub.  When she was twenty feet
away, she saw a donkey calmly chewing on the leaves, blowing and shaking the
branches.
  She rose with a sigh, put two fingers into her
mouth and whistled to Karma to signal that all was well and lowered the
tension.

Ten minutes later they stood facing the
‘Chai Huneh’, hiding behind some bushes.  The sign on the wall was illuminated
with a yellow light and Abigail whispered:

“We should wait.  The streetlights go
out at around five o’clock in the morning.”

“Yes, but then there will be daylight,”
he added and held his
head, shaking it from side to side.

Right then, a jeep stopped with a
screech of brakes and two people got out of both its doors and made their way to
the pension.  Abigail stood alert because it was unusual for people to arrive
at this hour. She curled her hand in front of her mouth and called out:

“Pssst, pssst.”

Karma looked at her and the two men, who
had just arrived, stopped short.  Without hesitating, one of them fired in
their direction and in response, flashes of fire burst out of the dark entrance
to the pension.

Karma and Abigail lay on the sand,
clinging to the branches of the trees and saw how one of the two men rocked on
his feet.  Apparently he had been hit but, before falling, he managed to fire
his rifle in the direction of the entrance. Another burst of gunfire followed
and his partner fell on the path.  Silence followed and the area was quiet
again.

Abigail muttered: 

“Amateurs.”

She hurried to move and take cover in a
hollow under a different tree. Just then, a single shot rang out, followed by
dead silence all around.

“Someone with a cocked rifle at the
entrance is very tense,” Karma remarked.

“Right, and it would be wise not to anger
him because he has a very light finger on the trigger,” she replied.

“No, just the opposite, it would be
better to let him fire all his ammunition before we go in and kill him.”

“How, exactly?  Should we block the
barrel of his rifle with a finger?” she answered him angrily.

Just then, a large car drew up in front
of them.  Its lights were doused, but no one got out.

Abigail placed a finger to her lips to
signal ‘Silence’ and made a firing gun gesture to him.  Karma tried to
understand her warning and when fresh spurts of gunfire were heard, he knew
what she meant.  The fire sounded as if it came from a machine gun and the
pulse in the recent wound beat in his head as if it was about to burst. He held
his ears in both hands and dug himself into the sand, praying for quiet to
return.

And indeed, after those exchanges of
gunfire, there was complete silence in the area and Abigail waved both her
hands excitedly to indicate they had all been eliminated.

Rumors
flew around about the nocturnal gun battle between two different factions. 
They told that the Iranian Republican Guards had destroyed them both at the
pension that served as the “Kaukab” headquarters.  Everyone was familiar with
the tattoo of the turquoise star that sparkled between the thumb and forefinger
on their hands.

A
short report appeared in the Persian language newspaper,
“Inshallah”
:

“Kaukab” Squad
wiped out.

“The unit operated at the ‘Chai
Huneh’ Pension

And caused the explosion at the

Drilling tower in the Straits of Hormuz.”

Abigail read the report and smiled with
pursed lips.  She was delighted with the solution the Revolutionary Guards had
come up with.

Abigail gasped when they returned to the
room.  Shards of glass glistened everywhere.  She looked at Karma and saw blood
running down his forehead onto his cheek. His head hurt and was hot to the
touch.  She saw that his wound needed attention.

“Karma, it doesn’t look good.” She
cautioned, “It’s an open wound and a doctor should attend to it.  I think the
wound is infected.”

He touched his head, looked at his hand,
which was red with his blood, and cursed.

“I hope they rot in hell.  Okay, I have
an idea.  We’ll look for a doctor who knows how to keep his mouth shut, come.”

They walked to Rasta Avenue, opposite
the light rail station and found the car that was still standing there from the
day Karma received the blow to his head.

“You drive,” he said, “I’ll sit beside
you.”

They drove in silence till they reached
the main street, passing buildings and businesses.  Karma asked her to stop,
went into one of the stores that had no name on it and spent a few minutes
inside.  When he came out, he held a paper bag and a piece of white cloth that
looked like a skullcap had been placed on his head.  Abigail laughed.

“What did the doctor give you?”

“He was a pharmacist and he suggested a
doctor should check me out.  The bill I gave him persuaded him to count out ten
capsules and put them in a bag together with some ointment.  He applied some on
the wound and mumbled something about it not looking right.”

“Good, where are we going now?”

“Come, let’s go further on to the
fields, a place where there are no people.”

“Why?”

“I want to talk to you without interruption.”

He took over the wheel and they drove
on.  The paved road turned off onto a gravel road.  Rows of trees lined both
sides of the road and Karma stopped the car. He switched on the car’s interior
light and talked to her.

“You can’t go back to that room now, can
you?”

“Hmmm…”

“I thought of inviting you to come and
stay with me.”

“Have you gone mad?” she asked in
amazement.  “I wonder if a blow to the head can derail a person’s mind to the
extent that he suffers a change in personality.”

“Wait, listen to what I want to say to
you.”

“Karma, there isn’t a chance of it.”

“Me and you, we… do you agree?”

“To live with you?”

“To get married, of
course, what else?”

“Karma, are you proposing to me?  I said
you’ve gone mad.  But, do you know what?  It also sounds like a good
arrangement to me,”  she laughed, not believing the seriousness of his remarks
and Karma twisted his mouth in disappointment.

“Naima, I’m not talking about an
arrangement between us.  I want to marry you, my beloved.”

Abigail took a deep breath, wondering
whether to cooperate with this romantic request or interpret it as an
arrangement to share accommodation.  She spoke cautiously.

“Karma, are you proposing marriage
conducted by a Qadi according to Sharia Law?”

“Approximately, yes.  I mean an “illusory”
marriage,” and he swallowed the words, hoping she wouldn’t ask too many
questions, but she heard. The stone sent a shock of heat through her finger and
turned to a darker shade, informing her that the man facing her was communicating
tremendous excitement that was much greater than could be observed.

“You mentioned marriage that is illusory
rather than real.  Do you perhaps mean a ‘disillusion’ marriage?”

“No, I refer to marriage that
approximates religious marriage.”

“Approximately?  How do you get ‘almost’
married?”

“Wait, the ‘approximately’ isn’t
accurate.”

He felt he was getting tongue-tied and
tried to explain again.

“Listen, it’s consecrated before a
religious official, but it can be dissolved, of course after the wife receives
the financial compensation, agreed on between them.”

“I don’t believe it!” she cried out,
“since when are there marriages that can be dissolved in Iran?  Karma, you’re
dreaming!  It simply isn’t possible!”

“It is. Believe me that such marriages,
consecrated under the auspices of a Qadi can be dissolved and…”

“Yanou, (that is to say) like a divorce
in the West?  You’re talking about a situation in which there is a possibility
of divorce?”

He was silent, thought for a few seconds
and then said:

“You are talking to someone, who is the product
of such a marriage.”

“You?!”

“Yes, my father, Sallah, married my
mother, Naziah, in an “illusory” marriage, exactly like that.”

“And… why did she agree to marry him
like that?” she expressed her amazement.  “Did her parents agree or was she an
orphan?”

“Wait, calm yourself, and slow down. 
Each person has his own reasons for such a marriage.”

“I want to understand something.  Did
your father actually leave your mother with a baby, in the end?”

Karma stopped for a second.  He had
never thought of his father and mother the way it sounded now, as she described
them, and it did not seem honorable, which made him choose every word he said
very carefully.  He also did everything possible not to mention the legitimate
family his father, Sallah, had left in Teheran.

"
It
isn’t the way it sounds,” he claimed, “he was an influential merchant, who
never stayed in one place.  His business would delay him for many months in
each city.  That was why he married additional women.”

“He used them for a few weeks and
discarded them.  Did I understand it correctly?”

“Actually, it was because he didn’t want
to desert them that he viewed such marriages as being humane and just and he
left them with compensation.”

“Great!  He hopped from city to city,
marrying various women in marriages of “disillusion”.  Isn’t that crazy?”

“No, not marriages of “disillusion” but,
“illusory” marriages.”

“Whatever you call it, it sounds
brilliant, considerate and just beautiful.”

She spoke angrily and emotionally and
Karma recalled his telephone conversation with the clergyman, the Ayatollah
Karim, who was killed yesterday.  He had not taken Karim seriously when he
warned him even then.

Now he saw how right the man had been
and was surprised when he heard Abigail talking.  She said:

“Wait, Why not? It seems like a pretty
good arrangement for both of us. Everyone will think we’re married and, just
between ourselves if one of us decides to move on, that’s fine?”  She stole a
glance at her ring and saw that the color of the stone was still dark but, she
didn’t know whether it was because of her or him.

Karma was silent.  He was pleased she
had agreed.  Nevertheless, he did not understand her.  He was disappointed that
she regarded the proposed marriage as an arrangement and felt that she had
drained it of all the romance of such moments.

“I want you to know that I love you,
really love you.”

She felt like bursting into tears.  She
wanted to believe him but found it difficult.

“Oh, Karma,” she declared, “I wouldn’t
have agreed to such a marriage if I didn’t care about you.”

He wanted to respond but, instead, he
asked:

“Would you like to take over?  Do you
want to drive?”

She shook her head and they continued
their journey in silence.  When they turned onto the paved road, the housing
became denser along the way and she said gently.

“Tonight I will sleep in a different
pension and we will only be together after you make the necessary
arrangements,” and Karma remained silent.

He thought briefly of that magical
moment when he had almost decided to tell Abigail about his wife and two
daughters. Now it occurred to him that this secret would make the relationship
between them fraudulent.
  After that, fears crept into his mind
that the news of his marriage to Abigail might reach his wife.  Moreover, he
began to worry that he also did not know very much about the woman, who was
sitting beside him and would soon be his second wife.

“Naima, what were you doing before we
met?”

Abigail was surprised at the question
and stared wide-eyed at him.

“Ah, besides this work, I was also a lawyer.”

“I don’t get that, slow down.  Did you
work for a lawyer?”

“Say, have you ever heard about the
hostages; the ones who escaped when they were being transferred from Iran to
Lebanon?”