A Place Far Away Read online

  This book is a work of fiction. All names, persons, organizations, places and events are the product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, events and places is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2013 by Vahan Zanoyan

  All rights reserved.

  ISBN: 1481033573

  ISBN 13: 9781481033572

  eBook ISBN: 978-1-63001-970-9

  Library of Congress Control Number: 2012922364

  CreateSpace Independent Publishing Platform

  North Charleston, South Carolina

  Contents

  Cast of Characters (In Alphabetic Order)

  Glossary of Foreign Words

  Chapter I

  Chapter II

  Chapter III

  Chapter IV

  Chapter V

  Chapter VI

  Chapter VII

  Chapter VIII

  Chapter IX

  Chapter X

  Chapter XI

  Chapter XII

  Chapter XIII

  Chapter XIV

  Chapter XV

  Chapter XVI

  Chapter XVII

  Chapter XVIII

  Chapter XIX

  Chapter XX

  Chapter XXI

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgements

  Cast of Characters (In Alphabetic Order)

  Abkar One of Ayvazian’s bodyguards

  Abo Same as Apo, but Eastern Armenian pronunciation

  Agassi Caretaker of Edward Laurian’s estate

  Ahmed Al Barmaka Billionaire VIP from Dubai who buys Lara’s contract

  Ali (the enforcer) Disciplinarian of insubordinate prostitutes in Dubai

  Alisia Galian One of Lara’s sisters

  Anastasia Ukrainian prostitute in Moscow who mentors Lara

  Ano Pimp working for the Ayvazians in Dubai

  Apo Arslan Trafficker based in Istanbul (Western Armenian spelling and pronunciation)

  Aram Galian Lara’s youngest brother

  Arpi Galian One of Lara’s sisters

  Artiom Head of post office in Aparan

  Avo (Avetis) Galian Lara’s younger brother and closest sibling to her

  Dr. Hakobian Medical doctor in Ashtarak

  Edgard One of Ayvazian’s bodyguards

  Edward Laurian Swiss/Armenian investigative reporter

  Farah One of Al Barmaka’s concubines

  Ferda Turkish name of Farah

  Gagik Grigorian Old revolutionary and friend of Laurian

  Gago, Khev Gago Nicknames of Gagik Grigorian

  Hakob Restaurant owner in Yerevan

  Hamo One of Ayvazian’s bodyguards

  Hayk Agassi’s fifteen year old grandson

  Lara Galian Youngest daughter of the Galians who gets abducted

  Leila Arabic name given to Lara while in Al Barmaka’s palace

  Manoj Al Barmaka’s business manager

  Martha Galian Lara’s oldest sister

  Melikov Medical doctor in Moscow caring for Ayvazian’s prostitutes

  Nadia Arabic name given to Natalia, Russian concubine of Al Barmaka

  Natalia (Nadia) One of Al Barmaka’s concubines

  Nerses Roadside restaurant owner in Vayots Dzor

  Ruben Martha’s husband

  Sago Hayk’s cousin

  Sago Galian One of Lara’s brothers

  Samvel Galian Lara’s father

  Saro Mayor of Vardahovit village

  Serge One of Ayvazian’s bodyguards

  Sergei Ayvazian Oligarch and human trafficker

  Sevak Minister of Agriculture of Armenia

  Silva Galian Lara’s mother

  Sirarpi Laurian’s sister who was abducted and killed by human traffickers

  Sona Galian One of Lara’s sisters

  Sumaya Manager of Al Barmaka’s concubines in Dubai

  Susannah Prostitute in Dubai

  Timur Apo’s business associate and assistant in Istanbul

  Vartiter Agassi’s wife

  Varujan Agassi’s son (Hayk’s father)

  Viktor Ayvazian Sergei Ayvazian’s nephew and business associate

  Glossary of Foreign Words

  (Armenian)

  Aghpar Colloquial: brother. A reference to those Armenians from the Diaspora who returned to Armenia in the 1940s

  Aper Colloquial: brother.

  Apres Bravo

  Arayi Ler Ara’s Mountain

  Ari Come

  Aziz Dear—Arabic root

  Balés My child, my dear—an endearing way of addressing one’s child

  Barev Hello

  Bari Akhorjak Bon Apetit

  Drsetsi Literally outsider, meaning foreigner

  Dsdesutyun Until we meet again

  Du you

  Du es? Is that you?

  Duk ek? Is that you?—plural

  Eghav Done, it is done

  Gampr Armenian sheep dog

  Garmrakhayd A type of trout with red dots on the skin

  Ha Colloquial—yes

  Hairenadarts Someone who has returned to the fatherland

  Inch aretsir? What did you do?

  Jan Dear—common suffix used after first names

  Ke neres Forgive me

  Khev Crazy

  Khorovadz Armenian grilled meats and vegetables

  Khung Incense

  Kurig Sister (dimunitive)

  Kyank Literally life, also used as a word of endearment while addressing someone

  Lav Good

  Merelots Memorial Day

  Mi ban asa Say something

  Mi gna Don’t go

  Oghi Vodka, Arak, most fermented fruit liquors

  Oriort Miss

  Ov e? Who is it?

  Paron Mister

  Tikin Madame

  Tuff A volcanic stone

  Vonts es? How are you?

  Yayla Summer grazing meadows where villager take their herd and live with them for the season

  Yes em It’s me

  (Arabic)

  Abaya Ladies’ long dress

  Akh ya ana Oh me…

  Allahu Akbar God is great (part of the Muslim prayer)

  Azan Call to prayer

  Habibty My dear (when addressing a female)

  Iqal The circular band worn by men over their heads that holds their headdress

  La Ilaha Illa Allah There is no God but God (part of the Muslim prayer)

  Ma fi mushkele There is no problem

  Ma’a al salame Go in peace

  Muazzin The clergy that chants the call for prayer

  Ya Habibty Oh my dear

  (Turkish)

  Agha Male title of rank and respect

  Effendi Male title of rank and respect

  Khanum Female title of rank and respect

  The asphalt road ended at the foot of the mountain. One of the cars turned left and headed toward the dense rock formations that spread up the mountainside like a thick forest of rugged, vertical boulders. The second turned right for about one hundred meters, then took a sharp left onto a narrow dirt road, leaving a cloud of dust in its tracks. The boss was driving because a special visitor he had invited to spend the day with him as his guest was sitting in the passenger seat. His driver-bodyguard, a big, muscular man with a shaved head, was in the back.

  The boss knew his way up the narrow, curvy road, and drove confidently, but the visitor was not sure where they were headed. Parts of the road were so steep that he felt his weight shift to the backrest, as in an airplane during takeoff, and he could see only the sky from the windshield. The boss had to lean way over the steering wheel and look down toward the hood of the car in order to see the road they were driving on. Neither the steepness of the road nor its sharp turns and narrow sections s
eemed to bother the boss and the bodyguard, but they made the visitor very nervous.

  The boss, who until that point had been talkative and lively, had fallen silent. The visitor hoped this was due to his need to concentrate on the dangerous road, but it nonetheless accentuated the eerie feeling created by the desolate and treacherous slope. He looked out the side window after they had made a sharp turn and saw through the dust the narrow trail over which they had just driven, curving some fifty meters down the slope. He deeply regretted agreeing to this visit.

  They finally reached a plateau, five-hundred meters above the foot of the mountain where the first car had stopped. It was an open oval field covered with thick grass and weeds up to mid calf, but with jagged, rocky edges. The car scraped against the overgrown wild berry shrubs as it ascended onto the field. The boss stopped the car a few meters into the field, and as they stepped out and started to walk, a flock of startled chucker partridges flew from under their feet and disappeared into the valley. The visitor was startled too, but he couldn’t help thinking of his family. He had counted nine birds, and the loud, rapid flapping of their wings was still ringing in his ears.

  The men stood there for a few minutes surveying the field.

  “This is what I have in mind,” said the boss. “It is not large, a little over five hectares, but everything grows very fast here. No need for water either; the thick mist every morning brings in enough humidity.” He lifted his right foot to show the wet cuffs of his pants and his soaked shoes as evidence. But his guest noticed that the enthusiasm had disappeared from his speech. He sounded almost bored, as if he wanted to get the trip over with.

  “I want you two to walk over there,” said the boss, pointing to the other end of the field and looking at the bodyguard. Then he turned to his guest and said, “You can picture the area much better from that angle.”

  Before he could say anything, the bodyguard put his arm on the visitor’s shoulder and led him toward where the boss had pointed. The boss remained by the car and watched them walk awkwardly through the grass.

  The flock of partridges was still in the visitor’s mind when he thought of saying a prayer. He could recite the Lord’s Prayer and even some of the Psalms, but that was quite different from praying, and he was not in the habit of praying. Nevertheless, he couldn’t help thinking that God had sent the flock of nine birds as a sign that his family would be safe. He looked in the distance at the steep peaks of black rock, at the misty clouds that were beginning to gather like a halo around the sharp summit, and saw it as another sign of where he was headed. “Watch over my hearth,” he said to the clouds, “protect my family.” That was the closest he could come to a prayer.

  The boss stood very still, watching. It took over ten minutes for the two figures to get to the edge of the field. The last stretch was rocky and dry, with virtually no grass. When they reached the edge, they turned and faced the boss. The edge of the ravine was immediately behind them, and the visitor had a glimpse of the void before turning around. The bodyguard waved his hand horizontally as if to outline the entire area of the field for the visitor. The boss waved his hand too, as if to say hello. Then the bodyguard brought his arching arm back and swung it straight at the visitor’s chest. The visitor lost his balance and toppled over the edge.

  The two men who were in the first car watched from the foot of the mountain as the visitor came flying down and landed with a loud thud in the forest of boulders. By the time the boss and the bodyguard had descended from the plateau, the two men had retrieved the broken body and were rushing it to a hospital.

  I

  Lara Galian is too young to dwell on questions of life and fate. She has even stopped asking how she got to where she is at any given time. She is where she is. Asking how and why gives her only headaches, not answers. Things happen to her in ways and for reasons that are not clear to her. Most often it is someone else that causes a change in her situation. She has just turned seventeen and cannot think of any major decision that she herself has made about her life. She has lived a series of reactions to circumstances created by others. Perhaps because of that, she has become very aware of time.

  Not that time matters to her as such; she is too young for that too. But she has developed a fear of missing out on the passing of time. She wants to be aware, aware as time passes. Fast or slow does not matter; it is not a concern with wasting time either. But since she cannot control events, she feels the need to not lose track of the time in which they happen. She dreads the thought of suddenly realizing that a whole month has passed and she has not even felt it. And it has occurred to her that if she could tie events and sometimes places to a block of time, she would have a concrete feel of time itself. That is why she started recording things. First only in her mind, and when she realized that she was losing memories, she started writing short, cryptic notes: August 27, the Australian, crazy moustache, Sheraton Moscow, $800, borderline tolerable.

  Throughout her life everyone has said how beautiful she is. Miracle eyes that leave a mark on someone’s soul… Heavenly skin that seems to glow like pale onyx… But she is not sure what that really means. In the mirror she sees a face like any other, give or take. A long time ago her looks seemed to have meant something to her mother, who would tell her how she took after some great-aunt that she had never met. “You’re the spitting image of your Araxi Dadik,” she would say. That did not mean much to her either. She later found out that her mother had not met her great-aunt. The claimed resemblance was based on stories passed down from generation to generation. Both her mother and her mother’s stories about her are now vivid memories to which she clings; the more distant the memories the stronger she tends to hang on to them. Clinging to memories seems to be the only defensive instinct left in her. Lara is very much aware of this, but is not dwelling on it at the moment. It is an awareness stored in the back of her mind for future reflection, assuming that that type of future opportunity ever presents itself.

  Now her looks have come to mean a great deal to all the men, too many of them, considering her age, and perhaps at any age. Each one different, and yet in many ways the same. There are those who want to love and reward her beauty, and those who want to abuse it and strip her of all dignity. Either way, she has come to realize that they merely seek ways of possessing it; it seems to her that is all men ever want when it comes to her looks.

  But sitting here in this crowded jail in Dubai, she does not feel beautiful. She does not feel anything other than the uneasy uncertainty of what might happen to her next; obviously, that too is beyond her control. It is mid-March and Dubai is hot already, with temperatures hovering around thirty degrees centigrade. The air-conditioning unit in the jail cell works, but it is very old, noisy and full of accumulated mold. There is a stale smell of sweat and urine in the air that spreads a uniform mood of malaise over everyone in the room.

  There are a dozen women in the large cell, where they gather during the day. At night, they sleep in smaller quarters, two to three prisoners per room. They are of different ages and colors, all there for the crime of prostitution.

  Lara is the fifth of eight children, with four older sisters and three younger brothers. There is only a little over a year between the siblings. As a child, she was closer to her younger brothers than to her sisters, especially to the next youngest sibling, Avo, who is only thirteen months younger than her. Lara could outrun the boys in the fields, climb any tree, and would even go with the boys to catch frogs in the irrigation canals in the fields around their village.

  She was the first of the siblings to explore the forests on the mountainsides beyond the fields past the border of their garden. For her younger brothers, that was where the world ended. Going past their garden was one thing, but crossing the vast fields and reaching the slope of the mountain and then actually entering the forest was something they could not even contemplate. Even Avo, who did everything with her, had tried to talk her out of it instead of agreeing to join her, as she had
hoped.

  So she went alone, without telling anyone. Soviet forestation programs had created the forests when they planted patches of thick pine and spruce trees on otherwise barren mountainsides. From a distance, they looked like the map of a cluster of green islands, scattered in a grey sea. That was one of the many remaining legacies of seventy years of Soviet rule. It was late afternoon and already lights and shadows were playing in the forest. She could see the fascinating lights before she even walked past the first tree, but what surprised her at first was the total quiet. She had expected some sounds, the rustling of some beast over the pine needles, maybe even a scary howling of a wolf. But the forest was empty and the silence seemed scarier to her than any wild beast’s cry.

  She felt the trees were staring down at her, as an unwelcome intruder in their dominion. As she walked deeper into the forest it became darker, but she was sure that the trees could see in the dark. She stopped a few times to listen, but then was drawn further in. She wandered in the forest for a long time, not realizing that she was actually lost, before finding her way back home. It was already nighttime when she reached home, earning the wrath of her mother; but to her surprise her father just held her and, with no anger in his voice, asked what had she discovered in the forest. Lara was quiet for a while. Unlike her usual perky self, she stood there, with her father’s strong arms around her, clinging to him. He looked at her wide-open eyes and felt her rapid pulse.

  “What did you discover in the forest, my girl?” he asked again.

  “Nothing,” whispered Lara. “There was absolutely nothing there other than trees.”

  But her father sensed her fear mixed with a wild excitement, and realized that Lara had discovered a part of herself in that forest. She is too young to understand that now, he thought, but he was sure the experience would stay with her for many years to come. And in fact, the forest’s impact was already evident. From that day on, Lara had no patience for either the indoors or for the indoor chores that girls are expected to do. This worried and exasperated her mother, even though with four older daughters in the house doing chores, she felt she could let Lara have her way. But she remained worried about Lara and her unconventional ways.