When he opened his eyes, the ceiling of the room was spinning; from those spins that came to him every day and night. He jumped up, ran through the courtyard. He took the magpie cage off the tree and sat on the steps. He stared at the magpie’s eyes and opened the cage door. The magpie flew onto his shoulder as usual and rubbed its head against Anis’s white neck.

Anis grabbed Zagi’s hand and brought it close to his lips. The bird bent its head to open up its place on his chest, but Anis put his lips aside Zagi’s head and whispered softly, “You are no longer my Abbas; your eyes are no longer green, they have turned black. I have found a real Abbas.” Then he stood up and, holding Zagi’s hand tightly, took the knife from his uncle’s pocket and sat down next to the garden. He put Zagi’s head on a brick and cut from ear to ear. No matter how hard Zagi struggled, he couldn’t save himself. Anis killed Zagi and threw him aside the garden. He looked at his bloody hands and searched for the cage, lifted it and put it on his head. He closed his eyes and counted; one, two, three, escape! He flew into the alley and ran towards the square. He stood in the middle of the square and started

The people poured out into the street at the sound of Anis’ voice. The shopkeepers and peddlers were the first to make their way towards him, followed by the children and women. Everyone looked at Anis with awe and admiration, some laughing and making loud noises, as his antics never failed to amuse them. When Anis saw the excitement he had caused, he pulled down his pants and shouted, “I found my Abbas!” Then he ran around the square with the cage on his head. The people formed a circle around him, staring at him in amazement.

It had been a while since people had been talking about Anis. Uncle Moshty had found Anis unconscious in the “Tam Bagh Darreh” well when he was a child and brought him to their house. Uncle and Aunt Moshty didn’t have any children, but they had more wealth and possessions than the rest of the village. No matter where they searched, they couldn’t find Anis’ parents, so they decided to raise him. A year or two after they brought Anis, Uncle Moshty passed away. He had raised Anis as his own son. Anis was a bit slow and it wasn’t clear how old he was. Aunt Moshty would always shave his head with a razor. He was big and his hands were rough and strong. Sometimes he would get confused and chase after the children. Even though they were afraid of him, the children would still play with him. They called him “Zaghi” and Anis was

One day, Mrs. Ous went to her aunt’s house for help. Her aunt had just found out about Anis and was so upset that she couldn’t even speak. She said, “I can’t handle this child anymore. She has no sense or reason. She’s like a fish that jumps out of the water and makes a mess everywhere.” Her aunt’s heart was heavy and she had revealed Anis’s secret of being a girl. Until that day, everyone thought Anis was a boy. Her appearance and body didn’t resemble that of a girl, and she always kept her head shaved. Even her name seemed masculine. Her uncle and aunt wanted Anis to be seen as a boy by others so they wouldn’t have to deal with any trouble.

Mrs. Ous Mirzali, who had a deep hatred for this crazy world, despite her aunt’s oath to protect her children, would always talk to Anis whenever she sat down. For a while, everyone’s life revolved around Anis. Everyone wanted to know if Anis was really a girl or not. The children would try to catch her in a corner and pull down her pants. Apart from the women and children, Murry, Jamshid, and Abbas – known as the three gunmen – would constantly roam the alleys, groping and harassing the young boys who had just reached puberty, hoping for a chance to touch Anis’s head and chest so they wouldn’t be left out of the feast. Murry would always say, “An old shoe is a blessing in the desert.” Abbas would say, “They say the crazies have whiter hair.” And Jamshid would say, “The good thing is, they don’t discriminate against craz

People, as they passed by Anis, could tell that he had a feminine figure; he was tall and slender, but his head, chest, buttocks, and hips were not quite feminine. Anis always wore a loose, light pink shirt and baggy, black pants that were a bit too short for him. He also didn’t have much facial hair. He had a few thin, black hairs on the corners of his lips. His eyes were big and his face was round. When he wanted to speak, he would press his tongue against his back teeth and twist his mouth in a peculiar way, making it difficult to understand what he was saying; although, he didn’t talk much anyway.

Except for his aunt, he only talked to Ahmad. Ahmad was a lonely forty-something man whose wife and two children had left him and gone to the city. Ahmad was a smoker and didn’t get along well with people. Everyone knew he was a handyman, but they didn’t have any work for him except when they needed a French wrench. He fixed everything that broke, from the heater to the wiring and plumbing, or when someone needed a 24-hour locksmith, they would call him. His pay only covered his expenses. His food and shelter were provided by his aunt. Since Anis had grown up and become a handful, his aunt would often send him to Ahmad. When Anis caused trouble and made a mess, they would call him. Ahmad would take Anis to his house, smoke two cigarettes, and keep him there until he calmed down and stopped acting out. Ahmad would sit in front of anyone and say, “God doesn’t like it when I give

That day, Anis had opened his eyes, killed his brother and jumped with bloody hands and a cage in the middle of the field. He had pulled down his pants and was spinning around the field, shouting, “Abbas is sacrificing himself for me. Abbas wants to take me.”

The people, as they looked at him stunned and bewildered, saying “Astaghfirullah” and telling stories of his life, sent for his aunt and uncle to take him away and bring him home. Now everyone was sure that Anis was a girl, and her aunt and uncle had hidden this fact. Of course, the people knew that having a crazy son was much better than having a crazy daughter. It was impossible to gather healthy girls, let alone ones who were also crazy.

It had been almost an hour since Anis had been spinning. Fatigue was hitting his eyes, but he didn’t give up. The old men were not his opponents and the stone and threat had not intimidated him. People were sitting around the field, watching him. Occasionally, a wise man would throw a piece or yell to try and calm him down, but it didn’t work. Ahmad Agha was in the center and everyone was waiting for him to arrive and end the argument. The boys were trying to lift Anis’s shirt and see his big belly, but they couldn’t succeed. The only thing that was certain was that Anis did not have a male organ; so he was a girl.

Gradually, the sound of Ahmad and his aunt’s voice could be heard from afar, as they spoke loudly to attract people’s attention. The people, who wanted to witness the final act, gathered on the stands. The grocer, Morad, was the first to greet Ahmad and his aunt and began to explain the situation. His aunt was an old woman, with a straight and strong posture. Her face resembled more of a turtle than an old woman. Her eyes were hazel and she was always chewing on dried rice grains. She would dye her hair with henna and wear a veil. She wore a long dark green shirt with white flowers and a shawl. She often came out of her house with a stick in hand. It was said that she had escaped from the villages near Damavand and came to this place when she was young. In the past, there were many rumors and stories about Ahmad’s aunt.

The people opened the way for Zan-amoo and Ahmad, Anis was out of breath, but still spinning. When Ahmad got close to the square, he said loudly, “Zan-amoo, can you let Anis come to my house tonight? I want to fix the parrot cage. I brought a green-eyed parrot as a gift for Anis from the center.”

Although Ahmad had heard the whole story from the mouth of his aunt, Zan-e Amumoshti, and Morad Baqal and the others, but upon seeing Anis, his voice would become calmer; as if he couldn’t believe it was really Anis. A woman with a large frame and bare buttocks, bloody hands, and a head that was half gone in a birdcage. Zan-e Amumoshti said something in Ahmad’s ear and stood up.

Ahmad went ahead and tried to call Anis normally: “Anis joon! I brought you a souvenir from the center. Won’t you come with me tonight and we can smoke two cigarettes together? Don’t you want me to bring you some honeycomb with tea? Come down, uncle, let’s go home together.”

Ahmad hadn’t finished his sentence when Anis turned around and changed his direction, standing in front of him. The crowd was silent and terrified, looking on. Ahmad took a step back. Anis lifted the cage off his head and looked at Ahmad with a trembling gaze, saying, “I won’t sleep in your arms anymore. I have a husband now. I won’t let you touch me and put your hand in my pants. Abbas came to me last night. He wants to take me. His mouth doesn’t smell like yours, and his eyes are green. He beats me and says he loves me.”

As soon as Anis finished talking, the crowd fell into a commotion. People gathered around Ahmad. His aunt walked behind him, hitting the ground with a stick. One person threw a piece and said, “Ahmad, you’re a troublemaker! You’ve caused a brothel.” Another person laughed and replied, “A brothel? More like a circus.” Someone else shouted, “So you’ve given up on your wife and children?” Another person said, “Are you still working as a donkey?” The people were shouting and talking, calling Ahmad a liar. Ahmad was scared and was pulling his aunt’s sleeve, saying, “Did you see what happened? We came to do good and now we’re being accused. You said the mother of this child is not calm, take him away for a few nights and give him some smoke, don’t bother the people so much. Did you see what trouble your circus caused us? Don’t believe the words of this crazy

Ahmad gave his feet to the people and denied and rejected and was blowing. Aunt’s wife had thrown her head down and was picking up rice and saying “There is no god but God”. They kept him away from the crowd so he could say a word. He listened and kept hitting the ground with his stick. When the weather got better, he gathered his strength, lifted his head and with a voice that was unlike his usual voice, he shouted: “Anis! Your father is burning. Take your tambourine and let’s go home.” With Aunt’s wife’s scream, everyone became silent. Ahmad and Aunt’s wife and the people were all standing far from the square. Everyone turned back towards the square. Anis was not there. The cage was broken and lying next to the square, and his little son, Mirza Ali, was shaking someone’s hand from the back of the tent. Mary whispered to Jamshid: “Since these arguments started, Abbas has

Image: Behzad Kambouzia