“Go down, go down, the rabbit will see you, “Alborz hissed with urgency to his son. His beautiful young wife Abbey had pretty good cover among the wild red tulips watching the rabbit.

But Nariman their six years old son was visible and playing actively among the flowers, trying to tell them how good he is at preparing a rabbit for dinner. This strong six-year-old boy with broad shoulders was a reminiscence of a very powerful man, a professional hunter in the wild, or a natural fighter in a wrestling match. Or he could be a hero of any epic story in a history book but he was only six years old and he was not aware that the rabbit could see him if he is not laying down on the ground and being covered by the flowers.

Alborz did not want to leave anything to chance, especially with his old gun which missed most of the time.

He was praying not to miss the target, particularly not today because today his family was very hungry, and Alborz was taking his time to make sure they would have the rabbit.

This is what his small family did every day. To spice up their dinner, as they never had enough food for all three of them after finishing work at the farm, they would try to shoot a rabbit or catch a fish from the Stream, but mostly unsuccessfully. Also, Nariman would get great pleasure out of hunting.

“I could even show you how to skin off a cottontail rabbit like this one and prepare it for dinner.” Nariman used to say to his friend and now to his mother but mainly he is talking to himself:

“I know, totally ready for whatever kind of recipe you do. As a Rabbit, they have a big gut and they go bad quickly even if it is cold like now, this thing would start to go bad soon, if you do not cut it right away. I am going to clean him for dinner. I don’t need to take out the guts first. You just want to make s small cut here – he points under his Adam’s apple – and from here

I am going to peel back then undress that leg – showing as if he is pulling down his stocking and then the left leg stocking.

Undress that leg and then the other leg, then break the legs from the ankle and throw the feet away, but I like to keep them for good luck. They will keep evil away. Now I take the knife and take the head off. Ok, now he has no head, but he still has his guts in him. Let’s make an incision right here” – he put his finger on his mother sternum. – then he points at her belly

“Lift all the guts up so you’re not cutting them. this is a trick that Gashasb, the only village huntress told me. I was told Gashasb and her husband held the Russian army away for 24 hours before any help arrived. A trick in cutting whether you’re doing a rabbit, lamb, or a deer or anything, It’s when you get down to this area, in order to not snip other stuff, you don’t want like the intestine or the bladder. just grab the gut and pull it up. and empty the stomach altogether. Now you put your knife in there split the pelvis, then cut it in 6 pieces”.

” I said go down, go down,” Alborz said, his voice seems to soften as he talks, and he sounds very gentle for such a strong big tall guy with a deep voice.

Suddenly he heard two shots, one after the other.

After the first one, Nariman raised his head to see the rabbit. He was curious about the rabbit if it’s been shot or not. He wanted to know what happened to it when it is shot. he had seen many times a shot rabbit, but it was always interesting for him.

He brought up his head looked at the dead rabbit. His eyes became big and fixed on the dead rabbit. then with the second shot, he heard his mother’s short scream of pain. He turned around and looked, she was in her blood and dead laying on the flowers full of her own blood, between him and his father.

Nariman’s eyes fixated on his dead mother and for a second thought about the dead rabbit over the hill again. His father was trying desperately to help her and at the same time pulling frozen Nariman to the ground. Another shot, he looked up, this time his father was shot, into the left arm and the bullet had penetrated through his arm into the body and his guts.

“Get cover, get cover, “Alborz said. Alborz was full of agony and despite his effort to hide it, his shaken voice was a clear indication of how much pain he was suffering from. He had lost the use of his left arm. His left arm had been frozen and pinned to his left side of his body and would move with his body as one unit.

Nariman was thinking, ” if the two gunmen were near enough his father could have killed them with bare hands. Everyone knows how strong my father is. That’s why they called him Alborse

Alborz The Mountains, rise like a wall from the southern shores of the Caspian Sea. and, Damavand one of its mountains with nearly 19,000 ft. is very important in Persian mythology as a remote resting place of heroes and gods. It’s incredible mountain towers over PERSIA”. Maybe that is why they avoid being close enough these bastards, and now Alborse laying down in blood, but why.”

He was shocked seeing his father lying in his blood next to his dead mother. He went for his father’s rifle an old Russian Krnka rifle but could not lift it up, He wished he could kill them but understood his physical limitation so he picked up the bayonet of his father’s rifle, his father pulled him down with his good arm so he fell in his father’s good arm as if he was a stuffed teddy bear.

Looking at his father and feeling his warm blood made him scared of now and his future. He would become an orphan at six years old. If his father would die, there would be no one to look after him. There would be no family he could go to. He became a little tense and further frightened and squeezed the bayonet. Again, he was thinking of killing them.

Another bullet landed near them, Father moved his son and himself a little to get a little more cover. He was getting weaker, his eyes wear not as open as before, realizing he does not have very much time tried to put together his last words.

“Son go to the Armenian winemaker,”

– he pointed at the direction of the house of the winemaker.

“Tell him this is the wish of a slaughtered father.” the blood appeared in his mouth.

“Tell him to get you to Gashasb safely to hide and protect you and beg him not to tell anybody in the village otherwise, they will come after you to kill you there too.”

He looks up to the top of the hill in the far distance where the rabbit was shot. “Look” he points with his finger. Nariman turned and looked. The two gunmen were taking the dead rabbit and then changed their direction towards him and his father and trying to aim at them, but they did not have a clear View of Nariman and his father.

Suddenly there is a sound of urgency in their face and voices. Now he could hear his own teeth clattering.

Alborz then released his good arm from Under his son, grabbed his rifle with difficulty, and pushed it to Nariman’s chest. ” son I love you very much and This is the only thing I can give you my old rusty weapon. I wish I had a house or some money to give you. this life is all about whether you come from a privileged family or not. I did not, and you are not.” This time Nariman managed to lift up the bayonet and the gun like a man. His father looked at him proudly:

“I am sorry son for this. In this country, you grow the wheat, and yet you do not get paid enough to eat the bread.” Nariman crying and panicking trying to hug and help his father.

“Do not go to the direction of the winemaker because then the gunmen can guess where you are.” Nariman was shaken visibly. He was not crying anymore but tears were visible coming down from his eyes. “Go the opposite direction and get lost in the high field of tulips until dark and at night go to the winemaker through his field behind his house. Run, run now before they can catch you. They want you dead. If you die, there would be no one to take revenge.” Nariman started to go, but within seconds Alborz stretched his arm towards Nariman,” Son,” Alborz said, Nariman with a face full of tears turned around His face told the whole story. “Come closer my son” Alborz pleaded, offering his hand, Nariman came and grabbed his father’s hand, squeezing it as if there was nothing more to love than his father’s hand. Squeezing it as strong as he could and full of love, sobbing quietly,

“Be a hunter, not the hunted. If you want to survive ” Then Alborz looked at the two assassins in the distance who were closing in to finish them off. “Go now, they are coming,” Alborz said with more determination than ever.

Ambrose coughed blood. His head turned towards his son. He was still alive. His son was running through the red tulips and other wildflowers keeping an eye on the two gunmen approaching his father and him. He runs until the last remaining of him was among the tips of the tallest flowers which were trying to reach the last remaining rays of the sun.

Alborz murmuring very quietly. “I wish I could have lived free the way it was meant for me. without any chain, a chain of great tradition, and slavery of any kind. Chain of patriotism, religion, nationality, or holy lies. I wish there was no landlord to share my harvest with. I wish I had a space of my own and just have a piece of land where I could grow my dreams and a chain to that, the only chain, to create my own happiness within that. But I was not allowed to live the way it was meant for me.”

At that time Nariman heard a shot. The birds flew away from the trees. He turned around and through the flowers, he saw one of the gun’s recoil and then his father’s head jerking and the second flock of birds flew away disturbing the field, But he had noticed the kick of the gunman; the kick of the gun was a hell of a lot. Because of this sudden discovery, he could not breathe. He had inhaled but could not exhale. These two were not peasants hunting rabbits, they were mercenaries. He felt the cold sweat on his back and disappeared among the flowers. With one thought remaining in his mind: why his father never mentioned God in the last moments of his life for forgiveness like any Muslim villagers or their friend the Christin winemaker or as he was taught in the prayer room by the imam.