Open it and Discover Another World (On Secrecy)
It was the summer of 1993.
We got in the car to head to my uncle's home, stopping at a house on barbecue street, officially Proshyan street. There was a man crouched in front of a makeshift grill, broken concrete and rows of rebar, meat sizzling on top. My father selected what he wanted, paid, and we were off.
Soon we arrived at the government housing complex by the Hrazdan river where my uncle lived. I had been here many times now and the house had become familiar. I placed the food on the table, pork chops wrapped in lavash bread and sprinkled with garnish. The grease from the pork soaked into the bread. My dad ripped a long strip and stuffed it into his mouth.
Delicious.
Soon others arrived and partook, and at some point a poker game formed. I got bored, but was neither able to leave nor join the game. I hung off my father's arm, reading his hand, learning the game. Eventually we returned to our room at the Hotel Armenia.
This room was special, a personal apartment in the older part of the hotel reserved for my dad year round.
Across the hall was my father's friend Adamich, a former KGB member turned head of hotel security. Adamich frequently consulted my father on a variety of topics, and freely lent me, a twelve year old, his lone issue of Playboy.
All the maids respected my father, and by extension took special care of me, often indulging my love of animals by keeping secret my housing of a porcupine, doves, and eventually a puppy.
I became accustomed to the hotel quickly, abusing the given access to my father's tab at the restaurant and snack shop. Some days I travel with my father to the various soup kitchens, other days I stay behind.
One night, he takes my grandmother and I to a video poker room. I sit there with her for a while, watching her gamble, not knowing then that she was an addict. I look around for my dad, but he's nowhere to be found. Then I see the door in the back.
I open it and discover another world.
A full blown casino, multiple floors, with tropical plants lining the walls. This is no hole in the wall video poker room, this is a serious operation. I find my father at the roulette table. He calls me over, has me blow on the dice, and then rolls. Everyone cheers, he gives me a kiss.
But then he sends me back to the hotel. I realize that maybe I saw things I should not, and allow my imagination run wild until I fall asleep.
My father arrives several hours later, and continues to do so repeatedly over the next few weeks.
One morning, my father comes in as the sun is rising and wakes me up. He tells me to sit across from him at the table and then reaches for a green satchel he has had for as long as I can remember.
I try to say something, but he stops me, then begins to search through the satchel. Eventually he pulls out two little transparent bags with white tissue inside. He opens the first and unfolds it. Inside is cluster of dirty white rocks.
"Do you know what these are?" he asks.
I respond negatively.
"This is thirty thousand dollars in uncut diamonds," he says matter-of-factly.
My eyes light up in surprise.
He points to the second and as if I can guess what's inside.
"More uncut diamonds?" I say.
He shakes his head and says "No," and proceeds to pull out the contents of the second bag.
They sparkle delicately in the morning light.
"This," he says "is thirty thousand dollars of cut diamonds."
I ask why he was showing me this.
He took a breath then began "If I don't come home one morning, you grab this satchel and you run to your uncles place. You talk to no one, you tell no one anything. When you find your uncle you tell him I haven't come home and give him the bag. He'll know what to do."
He put the diamonds back in the bags, and the bags back in the satchel. and the satchel back in its hiding place then looked at me for a moment, then nodded.
I nodded back, unsure of what was going on.
My father; clear of mind; stood, moved to the couch, and fell into the deepest sleep I had ever seen.
We got in the car to head to my uncle's home, stopping at a house on barbecue street, officially Proshyan street. There was a man crouched in front of a makeshift grill, broken concrete and rows of rebar, meat sizzling on top. My father selected what he wanted, paid, and we were off.
Soon we arrived at the government housing complex by the Hrazdan river where my uncle lived. I had been here many times now and the house had become familiar. I placed the food on the table, pork chops wrapped in lavash bread and sprinkled with garnish. The grease from the pork soaked into the bread. My dad ripped a long strip and stuffed it into his mouth.
Delicious.
Soon others arrived and partook, and at some point a poker game formed. I got bored, but was neither able to leave nor join the game. I hung off my father's arm, reading his hand, learning the game. Eventually we returned to our room at the Hotel Armenia.
This room was special, a personal apartment in the older part of the hotel reserved for my dad year round.
Across the hall was my father's friend Adamich, a former KGB member turned head of hotel security. Adamich frequently consulted my father on a variety of topics, and freely lent me, a twelve year old, his lone issue of Playboy.All the maids respected my father, and by extension took special care of me, often indulging my love of animals by keeping secret my housing of a porcupine, doves, and eventually a puppy.
I became accustomed to the hotel quickly, abusing the given access to my father's tab at the restaurant and snack shop. Some days I travel with my father to the various soup kitchens, other days I stay behind.
One night, he takes my grandmother and I to a video poker room. I sit there with her for a while, watching her gamble, not knowing then that she was an addict. I look around for my dad, but he's nowhere to be found. Then I see the door in the back.
I open it and discover another world.
A full blown casino, multiple floors, with tropical plants lining the walls. This is no hole in the wall video poker room, this is a serious operation. I find my father at the roulette table. He calls me over, has me blow on the dice, and then rolls. Everyone cheers, he gives me a kiss.
But then he sends me back to the hotel. I realize that maybe I saw things I should not, and allow my imagination run wild until I fall asleep.
My father arrives several hours later, and continues to do so repeatedly over the next few weeks.
One morning, my father comes in as the sun is rising and wakes me up. He tells me to sit across from him at the table and then reaches for a green satchel he has had for as long as I can remember.
I try to say something, but he stops me, then begins to search through the satchel. Eventually he pulls out two little transparent bags with white tissue inside. He opens the first and unfolds it. Inside is cluster of dirty white rocks.
"Do you know what these are?" he asks.I respond negatively.
"This is thirty thousand dollars in uncut diamonds," he says matter-of-factly.
My eyes light up in surprise.
He points to the second and as if I can guess what's inside.
"More uncut diamonds?" I say.
He shakes his head and says "No," and proceeds to pull out the contents of the second bag.
They sparkle delicately in the morning light.
"This," he says "is thirty thousand dollars of cut diamonds."
I ask why he was showing me this.
He took a breath then began "If I don't come home one morning, you grab this satchel and you run to your uncles place. You talk to no one, you tell no one anything. When you find your uncle you tell him I haven't come home and give him the bag. He'll know what to do."
He put the diamonds back in the bags, and the bags back in the satchel. and the satchel back in its hiding place then looked at me for a moment, then nodded.
I nodded back, unsure of what was going on.
My father; clear of mind; stood, moved to the couch, and fell into the deepest sleep I had ever seen.
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