As the U.S. bombs Iran, our narrator worries about his elderly parents, his overweight cat, dwindling supplies—and the increasingly urgent question of when a pair of plastic doorstops will finally arrive.
The war started again three days ago. Last time I left the city, but this time I can’t because I ordered a pair of plastic doorstops online that were supposed to arrive today.
I called customer support. They apologized and said that, because of the situation, they couldn’t give me an exact time and I would have to wait.
I understand the situation. There are usually three rounds of bombing a day: one in the morning, another in the early evening, and a third around midnight. I stay up until the midnight attacks are over, which means I don’t notice the morning bombing unless it’s close by.
When I go to sleep, I put on meditation music and leave the bathroom fan on to drown out the noise. I leave the TV tuned to the news so I don’t miss an evacuation notice or breaking news. I’ve taped up all the windows and drawn the curtains. I’ve lined up bottles of drinking water in front of the curtains so that, if a window breaks, the broken glass won’t scatter into the room. It could cut my cat’s paws. I wake up three or four times thinking I heard something, but I’m usually wrong. I don’t cover my ears, though, so I can still hear outside.
If they hit my area, I didn’t know what would happen to my cat.
Last night was very loud. Apparently, they bombed the airport. Dad called. He was very scared and worried about how he was supposed to get my mother out if they bombed their area. My mother has had Alzheimer’s for three years and can barely move around. She still hasn’t realized the war has re-started. She doesn’t remember the last war either. Her doctor told us to avoid changing her surroundings as much as possible.
After I got off the phone with customer support, I called Dad’s cell a few times. I couldn’t get through. I called the house. My mother answered and said Dad had gone shopping. Ten minutes later, I called again. My mother repeated the same sentence. I didn’t know whether Dad had actually gone shopping or Mom only thought he had, because Dad keeps a note on the table in front of her that says, “I’ve gone shopping,” with his phone number underneath. I was very worried, but I couldn’t leave the house. My order could arrive at any moment. If they hit my area, I didn’t know what would happen to my cat. He’s a little overweight and can’t really hide under the couch. Every few minutes, I called the house. Every time I called, my mother said, “I haven’t heard from you in so long,” then told me Dad had gone shopping. On the tenth call, about half an hour later, Dad picked up and it turned out he really had gone shopping.
I have enough cigarettes for twenty days and cat food for two months.
I called customer support again and asked them to give me a rough delivery time, but again they said they didn’t have an exact answer and apologized. I told them there was no need to apologize. We had to help each other get through these days.
My order didn’t arrive by the evening. Whenever the bombing started, my cat and I would lie under a blanket on the floor beside the couch in the middle of the living room. After the midnight bombing, I went to sleep and woke up in the morning to the sound of an explosion. This time it was real. They’d bombed the oil depot. I could see the smoke through a gap in the curtains, and the city smelled of burning oil.
The next morning, I woke to the sound of an explosion again. This time it was thunder. A spring downpour. After what had happened the night before, the rain was probably acidic. I checked my phone. There was a text saying that my order had been canceled because of a delivery delay. I went to the store’s website and placed the order again. The delivery estimate had been four days. Now it was a week. The analysts on the news say this war probably won’t last as long as the last one. The previous one went on for twelve days. So my order will probably arrive after the war ends.
I have enough cigarettes for twenty days and cat food for two months. I should get some cat malt paste and treats before the borders close too.
I’ve been waiting seven days, and my order is supposed to arrive today. I got a text this morning, but they didn’t give an exact time. My mother probably had a minor stroke yesterday. Dad said she got dizzy and couldn’t speak, but then she was okay again. She just didn’t have an appetite for a few hours. We didn’t take her to the doctor. We described her symptoms over the phone, and they said that, given her age and the circumstances, there was nothing to be done for now. I call customer support and ask what time my order will arrive. Again they say they can’t give me an exact time and I have to wait.
An hour has passed and my order still hasn’t arrived. I call customer support again, and they say the same thing. I lose my temper and tell them I’ve been waiting twelve days for my order. The person on the other end speaks politely. Like a robot, they just apologize and repeat the same thing. I hang up angrily. My plants have turned yellow. I think it’s because the curtains have been closed.
The sun has just set when my phone rings. At last, my package is here. I take the package from the courier and thank them for still working in these conditions. I tell them to stay safe.
I open the box. These doorstops really are good quality. I’m happy with my purchase. The old doorstops are still fine. I’d decided to replace them when the war was over. I hear an explosion outside. I put the doorstops back in the box. I set the box on top of the wardrobe.
