Drift Reality > Iran > The Last Supper

"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."