After looking at my car and doing a little bit of tinkering, the thickly accented mechanic tells me to get in the car with him and go for a ride "so I can hear what he hears."
I get in through the passenger side.
He slides behind the wheel and hands me twenty dollars. He says that he found it on my seat, earlier.
I sit for a second with the sweet appreciation of his honesty.
Moments later, he sees the stacks of matched books on my back seat and I answer his silent question. I tell him that they are mine, they are the book I wrote.
He tells me that he would like me to help him write a book.
And then the words spill out.
He is Armenian. Born in Iraq (EERAK). Moved to Beirut. Left in 1975. Has so much to tell. Tells me a little more and soon, his story makes "The Kite Runner" seem cheerful.
Then I think for a second and I ask: "1975... didn't they stop flying out of Beirut in 1975?"
He turns to me and says: "right after our flight left the ground, they closed the airport. For 15 years."
wow.
ReplyDeleteMy word. I believe this is my friend and coffee goddess' (barista is too small a word) father. She has told me a few times that he has a powerful story that he wants to share. he is an intelligent man but I believe English is his second or third language, learned late in life. He still thinks in Armenian then mentally translates everthing. Writing ... See Morea book would be so painstakingly slow. Brittany has wished that she had the resoures to higher a ghost writer to turn her fathers story and his wishes for his daughter's live in America iinto a book. Call him back, let him help you write a book.
ReplyDeleteThis is my dad.... wow... My sister sent me the link and my mom and i read it together. Krikor , my dad, is such a strong proud man. I am so proud that he is my father, and a part of my life. I will never forget the first time he told my sister and I where he was from... He is amazing and I am so grateful. Thank you for this...
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