Drift Reality

When Siamak was eleven years old, and his brother Siavash thirteen, their Father built a Summer home in Mazandaran, a town in Northern Iran located south of the Caspian Sea and north of the Alborz mountain range.

The house was in a small community that was populated by four other families, whom collectively shared a swimming pool, soccer field, tennis court, and a garden.

Siamak loved the vacation home because here, his family had their own space where they could do whatever they wanted, act however they wanted in peace.

On a typical summer day, Siamak would roll out of bed around noon and walk down to the swimming pool, where he would eat feta cheese, pita bread, and fresh fruit.

The next several hours would be spent outdoors with Siavash and the other children in the community: playing sports, hiking, horseback riding, or visiting the nearby beaches.

In the late afternoon, physically drained from the hours spent in the sun, they would all retire to one of the homes, where they would play backgammon or Hokm until the sun began to set.

Dinner was normally spent at home with the family, and it was during this time that Siamak began to see how he was different from his brother Siavash. While Siamak and his Mother looked on, Siavash and his Father would discuss politics in Iran.

Siavash never understood the need to becomes so emotional about such a topic, when they had everything they could ever want all around them.

When they were finished eating, Siamak would help his Mother clear the table while his Father and Siamak would sip tea and continue their discussion.

After dinner, the five families would gather by the pool and while the adults drank, talked, and played cards, the children would once again gather to play games.

It was during this time that Siamak would separate from the group and go to his favorite place - the balcony in his house that overlooked the garden.

Here, he would observe the way that the nightlights illuminated the garden, the pool, and the people he held most dear to him, while he thought about the future.

He would wonder whether or not he would get into university, whether the girl with the perfect skin who went to his school liked him, and whether he was going to be successful like his father.

“So then, my friends,” he said. “We’ve come together to eat and share stories with each other one last time.”

And with that, they sat down for dinner on the Thursday before Siamak left for the United States.

Siamak had heard many people say, that certain moments in their life are so essential, they replay them over and over in their head and Siamak certainly had moments like this.

When he was five, he stole an apple from the market and the moment his Mom saw him she knew what he had done. He remembered the way she glared at him while she demanded that he walk back to the market and admit to the shopkeeper that he had stolen from him.

Siamak remembered how when he was eight, he knocked over a pot of boiling water and scalded his back. His brother sat next to him in the backseat of the car as his father drove to the hospital. As Siamak tried to control his tears, Siavash repeatedly rubbed his arm and whispered how he was the strongest person in the world and that everything would be allright.

But for some reason, this moment felt different than the others.

During this moment, he somehow felt its importance while it was happening.

And whereas those other moments came to him in arbitrary flashes, he knew this moment would hover in his mind incessantly.

He remembered the way Siavash didn’t say a word as they drove to the restaurant, but once they had arrived, began joking around with everyone in an attempt to lighten the mood.

He remembered how the top of Ramin’s head looked, as he kept his face buried in his plate throughout the entire dinner.

He remembered the way Ali’s eyes sparkled, as he kept telling Siamak how he was about to set forth on a great adventure.

“Siamak,” he said. “You will see things that most of us will never see.”

And he remembered the way she smiled through gritted teeth, and sighed as she spoke.

He remembered how she said very little as dinner ended and as they prepared to leave, she leaned over and whispered in his ear.

“Don’t forget.”