I wished I could tell her that I meant to leave for Kashan almost immediately, knowing that much of her sadness came from my decision to stay. Instead I said, “You need a little vacation. You’ve been working so hard.”

“Yes, I’ll take you on a vacation,” Darius said.

“Ah, you are a good son,” Ziba said. “But you’d better go back to bed now and rest.”

Darius looked very pale, but instead of going to his room he sat on the floor with his legs stretched out. He fumbled in his pocket for a cigarette. He found one, lit it, and began to smoke in a deliberately mannered way.

“It’s your fault that he gets himself into trouble all the time,” my father said to Ziba. “You spoiled him. He only wants to play and fight.”

“What’s wrong with him, he’s better than all the boys in the neighborhood.”

“Don’t talk about me,” Darius protested.

“Nobody is ever satisfied with anything I say or do,” Ziba complained.

“Mother, be quiet,” Darius said, flicking the cigarette ashes on the rug. “There’s never an ashtray anywhere in this house.”

“I have to get some work done,” Ziba said, starting to leave. “Darius, are you sure you don’t want to go back to bed?”

“I’m sure. I feel much better.” He pressed the butt of his cigarette against the uncovered spot on the floor. Then he got up and looked at himself in the little mirror on the mantel, rubbing his hand gently on the bandage and then stroking his chin. “In a day or two I’ll be able to get out and kill those whoremongers.”

“Are you crazy?” my father said, sighing resolutely and sitting at the edge of the bed.

Darius turned away from the mirror and sat down, this time on the chair.

“I know what you ought to do,” he said to me. “Teach school. They can use people like you here.”

“That’s exactly the kind of thing she’s suited for,” my father said. “You can help schools to do things better.”

“I don’t want to worry about that for a while.”

“There’s no hurry. Take your time and do what you think is best,” my father said.

Ziba came into the courtyard and began to polish a brass pot. My father gazed at her for a moment and said to Darius, “You should come and work with me in the shop. Not like the last time though. You just sat and watched the girls.”

Darius laughed.

“I’m going out to buy some sweets to celebrate Feri’s stay.”

“I’ll go with you,” Darius said.

I had a frightening dream that night. Tony was running through a tunnel and I followed, struggling to catch up with him. A bright light shone through the tunnel and a sound like thrashing of wind against trees roared through it. Tony’s body seemed transparent in the light, shining with a garish blue color. It seemed urgent that I reach him. I did not quite know why. As I kept running the light became so bright that I could no longer see him. Finally I came to the end of the tunnel and found myself in a blind alley with a row of garbage cans along its sidewalks. Cats were walking together, slowly, harmoniously, like flocks of sheep. I saw someone who looked like Tony curled up in a corner. I ran over, but there was only a stiff suit with no body inside of it.