Three people are sitting at a round table in a restaurant, a man, a woman of almost the same age 60 years old and a teenage boy. The man is the owner of the restaurant.

The restaurant has red tablecloths and red velvet chairs.

The boy looks at the woman and says, “Auntie, for fifteen years, dad has been saying that he’s gonna take me to a resort in the North. He always takes my brother and sister. But when it comes to me, he says he has work to do. Now, he says that he would keep his promise this time.”

 Then the boy drops his head and after a pause starts biting his nails.

“You have just become fifteen, naughty boy! You mean you were in your swaddling when your daddy promised you?”, says the aunt with a smile.

                “Mum says it has been fifteen years since I was born.”

  Aunt caresses the boy’s hair and says, “Don’t worry, darling! Better late than never.”

The man looks at the boy angrily and says, “Stop it! Why are you biting your nails all the time?”

He is not paying any attention to his father, biting on his fingernails as if he hasn’t heard a word.  The restaurant’s door opens, and two young women enter and pick a table for dine in. The man notices the fat buttocks of a young woman which wobble in her tight and short manteau with any steps that she takes. The man does not take his eyes off her, until the woman picks a chair and sits down. Suddenly the man gets up and says, “sister, two customers just walked in, I will come back soon.”

Upon hearing his brother, the sister who is sighting the outdoor through the restaurant’s window, turns her head towards him and notices that he is attempting to send the young waiter away, so that he could take the order from the women. The auntie is playing around with her head scarf’s knot, turns to the boy sitting across from her and asks, “Is your mum doing well, honey?”

The boy looks at his father, without looking at his aunt, he bites a fingernail and answers, “She is okay.”

His toes on the ground and heels in the air, trembling eternally. The boy is wearing a pair of old-style jeans, a pair of old sneakers, and a red shirt which is clearly not new. He takes his finger out of his mouth and looks at the man. The man is now staring at the projected boobs of the woman which hardly fit into her manteau. The man takes the food order from the women, and hands it to one of the servers, returns to the table, pulls a chair, and turns to his sister, “My son is an athlete. He is into boxing.”

               “That’s really good! Take Daddy to swimming with you. It’s good for his leg pain.”

  The waiter brings the appetizer. The auntie puts a spoon of yogurt into her mouth while They are waiting for the main course to come. The boy picks at the corner of his nail with his hand and says, “I am telling him he would not go with me.”

The man winks, not apparent to whom he is winking; to women at the table across or to his son, says to his sister: “Little man! You have a rich father to send you to the swimming lessons. Who can I get money from to afford such a luxury?”

The aunt, savoring her shallot yogurt condiment, asks the boy who is playing around with his drink and the straw, “What do you want to become later in life?”

Before the boy’s response, the father says, “I will set up a restaurant for this one too.”

The boy starts biting on his fingernails, the corner of his nail starts bleeding.

“No! I want to become a champion swimmer. I want to swim across the entire Caspian Sea. I am telling him to take me and my mom to North Shore, but he wouldn’t.”

“Of course, you will go to the North Shore dear, just stop biting your nails, says the auntie.

“Why?” the boy asks, surprisingly.

“Why? Because you’ll cut yourself and then it starts bleeding.”      

The waiter brings food. After the lunch is over, the waiter cleans and tidies up the table. The boy goes to the restroom. When the boy is gone, the woman cheerfully asks, “will you be taking him to a resort in the North? You will be doing the right thing, Bro. It’s not his fault to be caught between the two of you. He needs you. He is your son.”

“I swear on your life, Sis! I’m not in the mood for it. I’m not in the mood for them either. His mother! When I first saw her, she was pretty. But after she gave birth, she became ugly.”

“The time that you adored her beauty.“

“She lost her beauty after giving her first child birth.“

“Aside from all these, why is he dressed down in such ragged clothing? He deserves better. he is ten fifteen old. For God’s! sake! You are not poor! how come your other children wear brands but this one must put on hundred-year-old jeans?

“His mamma calls every day and wants money. I give her four hundred Toumans a month. Yet, she says ‘It’s not enough!’ She sends her child to me. Every time he comes here and says, ‘I want to see my family, my sister, and my brother.”

“She sends her child to you? Isn’t he your child too? How can one live on four hundred Toumans nowadays?”

The man ignores the criticism, his eyes wander over a woman who is sitting at the third table over and as he is looking in her direction, says “His mamma says, ‘If you do not give more money, I’ll come and create a big scandal for you before your wife and children’. Why should I finance her? We have been divorced for many years now.”

The sister gives him a look with a cold shoulder, the man continues, “So I made a mistake having a child with that Bitch, should I pay for it for the rest of my life?

The sister says: “sit down dear.”

The father realizes that his son is standing over him and listening to the conversation. There are bloodstains on a tissue wrapped around the son fingers. The son angrily pulls the bloody tissue from the tips of his fingers and throws it onto the middle of the table.

Before even the man get a chance to get up from his chair, his son had stormed out of the restaurant. The sister shakes her head in dismay. The father, while dispirited with a down-in the- mouth look on his face, finds himself with glowing eyes, noticing a woman at another table looking over at him. He holds his index finger in the air as if asking permission to speak, “I’ll be right back”, then, heads over to the women’s’ table.

Written originally in Persian by Maryam Raeesdana, 2000

Translated by English by Kiumars Danaie, 2021