moment later we are sitting in the backseat, safe. How could I get myself into that kind of trouble? Am I completely insane?
"I heard a man near us tell the soldier we're foreigners."
"That was damn close."
"Forgive me."
"What's to forgive?"
"That in my country we can't even sit together in the park and that I was so incautious."
"I'm upset about my own recklessness and about you. Why did I even listen to you?"
"I'm really sorry. I didn't think that he was watching us. I'm so ashamed."
A look at him told me how miserable he felt. His eyes seemed to glisten, and his hand gripped mine.
"You can't help it."
"Why do I live in such a horrible country?"
We spend the evening again in the queer tea house under the bridge. We sit close together in the tight window corner, and Kurosh lays his leg on my calf. An electrical current races through me, and I long to take his hand. The rushing river, the smell of water pipes and the ruddy light cast a spell. The noon scare has almost passed, and I try to convince myself that our fear was exaggerated when the owner whispers something to Kurosh.
"He says I ought to keep my leg away from you because there are 'religious' people on the terrace who might make trouble."

trouble."
A glance outside confirms the necessity of this measure. Four elegant bearded men with collarless shirts and broad pants are lounging there together.
"They're from the government. I hate this damn Islamic Republic," Kurosh bursts out. "I've got to get out of here. Maybe I'll go to Australia. I've got friends there. I can't stand it anymore. Last year I spent a week in jail because the Committee didn't like my clothes or how I acted. I talked to a girl, in the middle of the square, nothing secret, just talking. I didn't even know her. She looked sad, so I went up to her and asked if she needed any help. Later the Committee came and took me away because I told them it was none of their business who I talked to. Then they criticized my clothes. Since I didn't want to pay a bribe and wasn't going to bow down, I had to stay there a week. The idiots even kept my Levi's."
We pay and walk to the river. Kurosh takes my hand, but I yank it back impulsively.
"I can't. It makes me totally nervous. Aren't you afraid of landing in jail again?"
"Sometimes I just don't care. Let them lock me up again."
We sit on the bank for hours telling stories from our lives. Sometimes we laugh aloud and cannot stop until we run out of breath. It is Thursday, and the promenade is full of nightly wanderers. A burst of light arouses my curiosity. It reminds me of New Year's fireworks.
"What is that?"