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By Root 1215 0

later discovered, exactly the same thing that occupied Tahereh Khanoom’s. Upstairs, on a corner of the big terrace, we had hidden our large and forbidden satellite dish. Later, we all wondered how it was that our concern was not so much for our lives or for the fact that five armed strangers were using our house for a shooting match with a neighbor who was also armed and hiding somewhere in our garden. We, like all normal Iranian citizens, were guilty and had something to hide: we were worried about our satellite dish. Tahereh Khanoom, who was more coolheaded than I and knew their language better, was assigned to go upstairs. Yassi was in charge of looking after my two bewildered children, and I accompanied the two men to our balcony, which opened into our bedroom and gave onto the garden below. I remember in the midst of all the confusion, at one point I thought, What a good story for Yassi’s uncles. I bet even they can’t top this.

The events of that day, even after my children and I thoroughly inspected every detail, are somewhat confused. As I remember it, I seem to be in all places simultaneously. Like the genie in the Aladdin cartoon, one moment I was on the balcony in the middle of cross fire, listening to the Committee men threatening the culprit while relating in bits and pieces his sinful history, intimating that he was supported by “people in high places,” which explained why they had no official search warrant; next, I was upstairs, assured by Tahereh Khanoom that the guards were too busy to pay attention to our satellite dish. Later she told me that the guards had tried to use her as a shield, saying that this man would shoot at them but not her.

In between the shootings, my interpreters of these strange proceedings revealed that were they to succeed in their present enterprise, our neighbor would probably be released by his high-powered patrons. He warned me insistently about the evil nature of this criminal, who had now taken cover at the farthermost corner of our garden, under the generous shade of my favorite willow. With comical despair, they took to bewailing the hopeless nature of their mission to us—we, who considered both sides equally criminal and intrusive and wanted them both out of our lives as soon as possible.

The game now shifted to our other neighbor’s house, as his two frightened children and their baby-sitter took refuge in the street. One of their windows was shattered by the gunfight. The culprit hid for some time in a small toolshed at the end of their garden by the swimming pool, but by now the guards had approached him from several sides. He threw his gun into the swimming pool—why, I cannot say—and the scene shifted to the street. We brought the neighbor’s two sons into our house. The children—the neighbor’s and mine—and Yassi and I leaned out the window to watch the Committee men as they dragged their prey into the back of a white Toyota patrol car, he shouting all the while, calling out to his wife and son and warning his wife that under no circumstances should she open the door to the house.

We did have our coffee in the end that day, as all the participants—Yassi, Tahereh Khanoom, the children and I—and the guards at the hospital all gathered in my mother’s parlor to exchange stories. The guards gave us the inside scoop on Mr. Colonel’s tenant. He was in his early thirties. His arrogance and rough manners had earned him the hatred and fear of the hospital staff. For the past six weeks, our street had been under observation by the Committee members who had just made their move.

We all agreed that this was a factional fight and that the culprit most likely worked for some high officials. That would explain how, at such a young age, he could afford the exorbitant rent, the opium and the antique cars in his garage. The hospital guards were told he was one of the terrorists responsible for some of the assassinations in Paris over the past ten years. It was predicted by our self-appointed investigative committee that he would soon be released. As it turned out, these predictions were