The Purpose

As cool evening tempered the heat of that July day in Samarkand, Kalid was about to go into his little courtyard to take the perfumed air. Two hours remained before darkness; he would sit comfortably in his lounge chair and, enjoying a large glass of beer, lose himself in his reading, a simple pleasure, fated not to occur. As his wristwatch read eight o’clock, he heard an unexpected knock at the entrance door. Only a few acquaintances intruded into his bachelor’s life, and they always telephoned in advance.At this hour, it could only be an uninvited stranger. In the past few years, there had been too many of them in Samarkand, and no good could be expected from them.

The knock came again. Kalid’s heart beat a little faster, something disturbed him.Premonition? Nonsense! Yet his legs trembled slightly as he went to the door, opened it, and found a young man standing outside. He was of average height, and about twenty-five or twenty-seven-years old. There was nothing remarkable about him except his eyes, which were large and black, and gleamed piercingly from under thick eyebrows.

“Good evening, Doctor,” he said.

“Good evening,” Kalid answered warily. Since he had retired from psychiatry, only his neighbors and friends continued to call him Doctor.

“What can I do for you?”

The stranger’s thin lips rose in an uncomfortable smile, but the eyes that stared out over his high cheekbones remained serious.

“My name is Talat Nurieff. Does that mean anything to you?”

Kalid gazed at the young man. If he had met him before, he would surely remember those eyes. Nurieff was a common name in Uzbekistan. “I don’t think we’ve met, perhaps you have the wrong address. There is another doctor who lives not too far away…”

“Your name is Kalid Sheriff, isn’t it?”

“Yes…”

“Then there’s no mistake. I came to see you about a personal matter.” He looked around as if afraid someone would hear him. “May I come in?”

 Although Kalid was not afraid of this stranger, he didn’t really want to be alone with him. What business could he have with me?

“You have nothing to fear from me, Doctor. I really must speak with you.”

            He didn’t look like a criminal, but he also didn’t inspire any feelings of trust. Besides, what do I have to lose? If he wants to rob me, he’s out of luck—my house is empty, Kalid thought. He showed the man into his former office, gestured to a chair facing the desk and turned on the table lamp.

“Please sit down. If you don’t mind, I’ll open the window. It is such a beautiful evening.”

Kalid was subconsciously aware that he was testing his uninvited guest in case he had something underhanded in mind. An opened window was a means of escape. “Go ahead, I’m listening.” he said.

As the man named Talat struck a match and lit a cigarette, Kalid noted that his wrinkled suit and shirt were long past new. His hand shook slightly when he removed the cigarette, curling his fingers around to hide it, a habit of careful and secretive people. He inhaled nervously.

“I have a problem, Doctor.”

“You want to see me as a psychiatrist?”

“That’s right.”