Missing Soluch by Mahmoud Dowlatabadi

them!”
    “You’re lying, you and your seven backs, you witch! That man wouldn’t touch the property of others. Soluch wasn’t the kind of man to steal something from his own property!”
    “His own property! How could he have gave gotten it? Oh, maybe he inherited it from his father, a mud-plasterer! Do you remember when his old man died what he left for him? A plastering spade. That was all. His property, his property! It’s as if you think I was the wife of the son of a nobleman and I didn’t even know it!”
    Salar said, “Will you swear on the Qur’an?”
    “Swear what on the Qur’an?”
    “That you didn’t steal the copper work yourself!”
    Mergan ran toward Hajer, embraced her daughter, slapped her head, and said, “May I bury my own daughter! May I bury her with my own bare hands, if … if I should know anything about this. Kadkhoda! At least say something to this man!”
    Kadkhoda Norouz knew Mergan well. Not just Mergan, but also he knew most of the people in Zaminej better than anyone else did. And that was why he was the Kadkhoda, and not Salar Abdullah. So he knew that if the matter should be drawn out any further, Mergan would not hesitate to even lift Hajer up and smash her into Salar’s head, and Kadkhoda Norouz didn’t want this to happen. He didn’t want something like this to happen while he was there. Mergan’s attack on Salar Abdullah earlier was a consequence of a similar situation. So the Kadkhoda wisely realized he would have to take a moderating position. To step on Mergan’s tail more than this would be unwise. Mergan was that kind of person that the Kadkhoda and Salar Abdullah termed “headless and footless”—out of control. From one standpoint, they were right, since Mergan had never had anopportunity to distinguish her head from her feet. In a sense, her head had never benefited from a strong neck; her feet had never had shoes. But if they meant “headless and footless” to signify something else, then it was up to the Kadkhoda to know what that was. Because Mergan exemplified the working woman of Zaminej. She was perhaps the hardest-working woman of the village. She was like a sharp sword. She never rested. Once she began, she could do the work of two men. Strong and obstinate. And so the Kadkhoda estimated that Mergan would not back down. He turned to Salar and said, “Leave it. Just take these four pieces, and we’ll later deal with the remainder.”
    Mergan rose and said, “There is no remainder, Kadkhoda. I can’t go on having to look away when I happen to cross paths with someone who claims I’m in his debt! Either take these copper pieces and settle the business, or I’ll stop you from trying to take even a cup from this house. Blood will have to flow!”
    “That’s enough from you. Don’t shout yourself hoarse with all that.”
    “Enough is enough. Just don’t leave me at the mercy of every nobody who’s around. But I’ll leave the rest to you.”
    The Kadkhoda looked at Salar Abdullah and said, “So, what do you say?”
    Salar stooped and gathered the pieces and then shot a hurt and angry glance at Mergan, saying, “Oh, I’ll have the rest. You’ll see!”
    Mergan grabbed Salar’s hands and said, “There is no more. Do you understand? Either we are even, or you leave these behind.”
    The Kadkhoda separated Mergan from Salar’s hands and said, “Get going, Salar. Get a move on, you! Soluch isn’t dead. Who knows, he might return.”
    Salar cradled the copper work and exited by the door. Then Kadkhoda Norouz released Mergan, picked up his overcoat that had fallen to the floor, and left, following Salar Abdullah. Mergan sat on the ground.
    From inside the doorway of the stable, Abbas was taking in the sight of Salar Abdullah and Kadkhoda Norouz leaving. After eavesdropping on what they were saying as they walked by the wall, he quietly slipped out the door. The possibility of Salar’s return frightened him. So from the edge of the wall his