The Frozen Desert - Moein Mansoori Fard (best novels to read in english txt) 📗

water after a while being stagnate, my eyes also adapt to sunshine by the techniques I’ve done. Vorarine has closed his eyes too. Fortunately there are still three or four hours left to sunset. Vorarin when sees my contemplation and inattention, comes to me after a slight hesitation and he says:

So?

Now that my eyes adapted to sunshine, I lower my hand and turn my face toward him. Then, I ask in wonder:

So what? What should we do?

All of a sudden the door opens and we force to go aside. Three people come out of the shelter. They pass by us inattentively and this gives us the pretext for move. We take steps just behind them at a short distance. Something strange is teasing me. I can’t understand it. Maybe because I am stepping in a way in which I don’t know what will happen for me. I don’t know whether I can find Mansidan or not.

Time passes in silence for a while until I see those three people like the shadows of the trees in the sunset. I look behind. I see two people who newly have come out of the shelter. We are just between the people but the speed of the people behind us shows that they will outpace us. As I go on my way slowly, Vorarin says hesitantly:

We should be careful about what we say since now.

I ask him:

Do you know anything about the saviors group?

Not much. They’ve different missions.

Why do you want to enter the group?

For the personal reasons. I want to do something useful.

Can you talk clearer?

He looks around:

Be quiet for the time being, some people approaching us.

I hear footsteps of two people who approaches us momentarily. I take the white stick off my knapsacks. Then open it until it turns to a stick. After that, I open the umbrella which is attached to the lower end of the stick and I hold it over our heads. Finally those two people reach us and they admire me for the umbrella, while passing by us in wonder. One of them says:

Look, do you have any stick like this to give us?

They pour some water on the cloth which they have hold over their heads, and then they go away from us.

Well, where should we go?

I need the map.

So I pull the map out of my bag. The irregular and curved lines shows that the map has been drawn by hand. The “Ray”, “Horizon”, and “Hope” shelters are in a line and toward the north, but the “Life” shelter is in the south. Some stopover and new shelters are also shown on the map which one of them is the “Storm” shelter. Vorarin comes closer to me and says:

Well…exactly here. We should get at there.

Then he shows a circle on the map which called “Ralin town”.

The scaling of the map is not correct but beside a line which is drawn as the road, is written 8 km.

We can reach there within two hours. This way, we wouldn’t meet darkness.

We go on our way when those two men have gone far away from us. Now no ears can hear our words. I look behind to be sure of there too. Many people, who are more than ten, have left the shelter. Two of them, ahead of the others, are almost behind us. When I see them, I decide to forgo my question. Vorarin also keeps quiet. We go on our way with the same speed until they pass by us.

Gradually, my brow drip sweat. Compare to night which is too cold, day is too hot. A light breeze begins to blow and burns us like a furnace. The umbrella which I have invented, has no effect on heat and just protects us from the light.it is like a sultry weather near the beach, with the difference that here the humidity of the weather is replaced with a dry and torrid air. Silence makes me look at the nature.

My feet sink in the sand. Here, the ground is still sandy. The ground is covered by the sand, as far as the eye can see, nevertheless normal soil can be seen in some parts. Only a few hills have choked the sandy soil from flowing as water.

In some parts, sands have accumulated and have made different hills. Fortunately, neither of them is on our way, but they may relocate by night. If we look from above, we would see ourselves and the “Down” shelter like a black spot in the middle of an infinite white board. This is such a dull and tedious way we should undergo again. Nothing new attracts my eyes but the sand and the yellow color which offends the eye. Vorarin approaches me and says:

It seems the reds have no difficulty with the nomads. I didn’t see anybody of our people has left the shelter.

Because the nomad has been a legend for them and a reality for us.

Maybe we better waited too.

Thanks God at least we’re not alone.

My feet sink in the sands as in a marsh. It takes no time that my shoes are filled with sand and offend my feet like the prickles. I have to empty my shoes once in a while, otherwise the sores on my feet may bleed again and hot sands may cause blister on my feet.

Vorarin stops with my groan and looks at me perplexedly. I spread a pad on the sands before I sit on the ground. I am sure that at this time of day, sands are hot as glowing coals. I bend my legs toward my breast and remove my shoes. Vorarin also checks his condition and sits by me. He sinks the umbrella into the sands so that it protect us from the sunshine. Then he becomes busy with his feet. I empty sands out of my shoes, meanwhile the shadows of two people fall on us. I push the umbrella aside to see their faces.

An old man is standing by a young man about thirty, but the direction of the sunshine hides their faces from us. When they see we narrowed our eyes and we try to identify them, they replace the umbrella in its place. I guessed right about them. The old man, who is smaller and unkempt, is the young man’s father. Vorarin begins to speak sooner than me. He asks:

Can we be of any help to you?

The old man shakes his head in sign of positive answer. His son says:

Indeed, we are illiterate. We wanted to ask the waiters for help but they were busy.

Then he takes a set out of his knapsack which is like a cell phone and then he gives it to me:

I want you to specify the way on this set.

At first sight, I find out it is a router or GPS set. Its keys are faded and frazzled. In some parts of the set fractions and fractures can be seen. It is the same router I already used it. I can use it blindfolded. I push the power key and ask them:

Which route I should specify for you? Where are you going?

The old man opens his mouth to answer but he stops talking by his son’s look. Then his son instead of his father immediately says:

You specify a route in which we reach the “Hope” shelter easily.

I look at the old man to know his opinion. He is thinking and it seems something has hesitated him. Their behaviors show that they don’t trust us. Also, it seems this is the first time they use this router. I explain the route for them, before that I specify it:

On the map, it takes two weeks to “Ray” shelter. You’ll have to enter other shelters too. You should pass the “Storm” shelter. This way, you can supply your foodstuffs again. After that you got the “Ray” shelter, you should go on and reach the “Horizon” and then “Hope” shelters. In this route some stopover shelters are being built which make the route easier and shorter. The “Light” shelter is between the “horizon” and the “Hope” shelters. This is the nearest route.

The old man looks at his young son. It is completely obvious that something annoys him, but the young man’s look makes him to be silent.

Yea, this route is good. My father agrees too. Don’t you?

The tensome group which is divided into the two or threesome groups, pass by us slowly. Some of them have a glance at us. The old man and his son, both become quiet. I look at the route guide until they pass by us. The date of the map relates to sixty years ago. All of the cities and the names of all streets can be seen on it. I look for the “Dawn” shelter on the map, but these locations all have changed since then.

All of a sudden, seeing the Ralin town on the map, reminds me Karisan’s map. At a distance of eight kilometers from Ralin town, I will reach the “Dawn” shelter. My eyes lock on display screen perplexedly. I can’t believe, but as I see here, where I am now, used to be a town! I do calculation again, but I’m not wrong. That’s it; here used to be a town but now there is no sign of it. I look around to be assured that there is no town anymore. I can’t see anything but sand. It seems just this shelter has remained of the town. The thick iron beams which are on the top of the building prove this.

While I am thinking, the voice of the old man who is whispering with his son makes me notice their agitated faces. Their whisper gradually becomes louder insomuch I can hear their words.

You shouldn’t tell. If you want to talk about there with everyone who we see…

Think a little, you silly boy. We should be assured. If they …

No father, we find it alone.

His father frowns and says:

Shut up! I don’t want to die in the desert.

The son just lower his head and groan in whisper when he finds himself doomed to failure.

I try to defuse the situation with my question:

What happened? Should I mark the route for you or not?

The old man banishes his frown and while is looking at his son, says with a slight hesitation:

I’ve a question. How I tell it…do you know anything about the “new world” town?

I shake my head and say:

Not much. Just this much I know that such a town is being built.

Vorarin wipes the sweat off his face and fans himself by waving his shirt. He says:

Why do you want to know about there?

The old man pays no attention, just a flash appears on his eyes and then his dry lips gently ripple.

So it’s true. Can you tell me a little more about it?

I open my mouth to answer him but Vorarin anticipates me and asks suspected:

What do you mean saying these words?

Now I know what’s what. When the old man see himself suspected, he says:

Well… I just wanted to…since I knew that you are Karisan’s colleagues so I asked that question.

His son, like an extinct volcano which roars just in itself, looks at his father with no word. In my opinion they are same as other people and I can’t call them spy. Hearing my opinion, Vorarin’s hesitation is reduced and he says:

What do you know about it?

The old man dishevels his long hair on his face so that protect it from the sun stings, then he says:

I want to know the exact location of this town.

Vorarin looks at the old man’s eyes anxiously:

Maybe you want to go there? As a matter of fact, how do you know about it?

No matter how we knew it, but you just mark its location on the map for us.

Essentially, what do you know about it?

He shakes his head and says:

Its name proves everything. We wouldn’t have these miseries there. We have lived a painful and repetitious life. So we want to live there