City of Lies: Love, Sex, Death, and the Search for Truth in Tehran

Evin prison, Tehran, August 1988

Shahla and Amir have still not seen Manuchehr, not even when the three of them
are transferred to Evin. A few days after they arrive, the initial shock thaws, exposing Shahla’s anger. But she is certain they will be released soon. Theirs is not a serious case. They are not official members of any party, something she reminds her interrogators at every opportunity. ‘If your intelligence is so great, then surely you know that!’
Amir misses his father and does not like this new world full of women squashed together, the heat intensifying the smell of sweat, cheap soap and milky breasts. He has made a friend, Maryam, but she is older and does not always want to play. He has a tantrum. Manuchehr had promised him a toy truck. He stamps his little foot on the ground and shouts louder and louder. The women stare in silence. Maryam watches him from the bunk bed with her mother, both looking at him with their sad eyes. His mother pleads with a guard through a tiny hatch in the door.
‘He misses his father, that’s all – please let him see his father, little boys can’t be without their daddies.’ At the word ‘daddy’, Amir starts to wail, throwing himself on the floor with drama and flourish. And then everyone looks up as they hear the jangle of keys working its way down, until the door is opened.
‘Just. This. Once.’ says the woman in the green uniform, her unsmiling face hidden by her cap. Amir wipes his wet eyes, embarrassed at the scene he has caused. Shahla hugs him and whispers in his ear before taking him to the threshold. And then Amir is on the other side, his wet face blasted dry by an icy airstream. He is led along endless corridors of sparkling white tiles under flickering yellow strip lights. He can hear the squeak of rubber soles on the floor above the hum of the air conditioning. Then more keys jangle, more banging on doors. He is led into a room full of men, they shout his father’s name and nudge him towards the back where he is wrapped up in his father’s hot, familiar arms. Giggling together, Amir nuzzles his face in his father’s neck, breathing in his musky smell. They play, father and son, for what seems like hours.
‘As soon as we’re out, the first thing I’m going to do is to buy you that truck.’