Audacious, page 11
Even though it’s dark,
It’s only four thirty
Cold enough
That we can see our breath
Even in the car.
I love you, I say
In a cloud of mist
And touch his face
With my fuzzy glove
He closes his eyes
Takes my hand
And drags me, gently,
Into the backseat.
C-C-C-C-COLD
It’s much too cold
To do more than unzip our coats
And lie face to face
Wrapped in each other
For warmth.
I remove one fuzzy glove
And snake my hand
Between us
To the button of his jeans
Don’t, he breathes
It’s just touching, I say
It won’t take much
We’ll get all sticky
Anyway, he adds ironically
It’s a sin to spill it.
Maybe I could catch it
In a coffee cup, I say
Which makes us both laugh
So hard that he falls off the seat
And onto the floor.
He climbs back up painfully
And pulls me into a deep kiss
I slide into his lap
Joined at the hip
We forget the cold
Until the door opens
And a man’s head appears
Who the hell are you?
I say as Samir squirms out from under me
That’s my dad, he says.
CAUGHT
Samir drives
His sister sits in the back next to me
A chaperone
While Samir’s father drives ahead
In one of the company trucks.
It was the snow that doomed us
A plow driver
Recognized Samir’s father’s car
And, worried, called his cell phone
I guess he knew what he’d find.
Has he taken your virginity? Hala says
Hala! Samir says
Followed by a string of Arabic
Which his sister returns in kind
Before turning back on me.
Guarding your chastity is a test
But the reward is great
A woman’s virginity
Is given to her by God
For her to give to her husband.
Thanks, I say
But I like to think I have other gifts
As for what I have between my legs
That’s the gift that keeps on giving
I’ll give that to whomever I please.
I can see Samir in the rearview
Trying not to laugh
Sometimes I’m sure
He’s as shocked by the things I say
As I am.
SAMIR’S HOUSE
Samir and I sit
At the kitchen table
While Hala makes tea.
I can hear Samir’s parents
Talking in Arabic
In the next room
What are they saying?
I ask Samir
He listens for a moment
They’re talking about me
And the Muslim School
As if that matters now
Samir’s father comes in
And sits across from me
As Samir literally hangs his head.
Is he ashamed of me, I wonder
But his father speaks
Samir told me he loves you, he says
I feel the heat radiating out from my heart
Like a fire, spreading in a dry field
I know I’m blushing but I don’t care
Love is a blessing and a gift
His father says, unexpectedly
Not for us to question.
Do you love my son too?
Yes, I say, emphatically
Yes, so much it hurts.
Across from me, Samir sighs.
His eyes, through the prison-bar lashes,
Look up and meet mine
His father continues
Love requires sacrifice
What would you give up for my son?
Anything, I say, without hesitation
Everything. I think
Of Ella, abandoned on the rooftop
Half-formed, ill-thought Ella
Who never had a chance
To blossom
Ella, who was going to change my life
Who was going to be the change
That remade me in her image.
Ella, who would never hack a laptop
Display genitalia
Or fall in love with the wrong boy
Ella and her plan
To blend in, thrive
And avoid controversy
Ella, who I wish had answered
Politely, thoughtfully
Diplomatically
When Samir’s father asked
Do you love my son enough
To become a Muslim?
Instead it was me
Raphaelle
Who simply laughed.
RAPHAELLE FAILS THE TEST
My laughter dies in pain and silence
Samir’s father says something
But I can’t hear him
My heart pounds
in my ears
Because Samir is looking at me
And I can read his eyes
Disappointed
They say
Betrayed.
Then I’m out in the snow
Coat open and cold
Samir follows me
Please don’t go
He says
It doesn’t matter, he lies
God has joined us
He wants us to
Be together
Forever
Samir, I say, marveling at the snowflakes
Drifting down between us in the dark
And there are so many things
I want to say but all I
Can say is:
Samir, listen to me
I don’t believe
In your god
Or any
God.
PURGING: PART TWO
And so much follows
That I almost believe
It is me who incites
A blizzard to blow up.
Snow swirls around us
Like a poltergeist
And Samir’s tears
Freeze on his face.
How can there be a god
I cry into the wind
When babies die minutes
After they’re born?
How could your god let
Israel take your land?
How could their god
Let six million of them burn?
What kind of god
Would let those things happen?
Does he watch?
Does he laugh and enjoy it?
How could he let your father
Pretend he only has one son?
If being gay is not okay with God
Why does he allow it?
What the fuck does he have planned for me?
Am I supposed to go to jail
Ruin my life over a painting?
Maybe he just wants me to kill myself
Like Van Gogh
Maybe I should just carve off
Some body parts first
Maybe my nose
Or my breasts before
He fills them with cancer
Poke out my eyes
Before he blinds me.
Habibti, don’t talk like that
You don’t mean it
God loves you
I love you.
God loves me?!
If this is love I dread to see
What God would do
If he hated me.
How could God
Let those girls, those bitches
Lock me in the dark under the stairs
IN THE DARK, I scream, for the whole night?!
Suddenly I feel light-headed and hot
What girls? Samir says
What are you talking about?
For a blissful second I’m not sure
Then something acrid bubbles up inside me
I turn and vomit tea into a snowdrift
And want more than anything else
To tear off the pink dress.
Samir tries to stop me
But I pull away
And run
Home.
FOUR-WHEEL DRIVE: PART TWO
The Range Rover appears
A flash of blue in the whiteout
Dad jumps out and scoops me up
Like a little girl
Like he did once
When one of those cunts finally
Confessed the next day
That I was locked under the stairs
In the old auditorium.
He burst through the door
With police behind him
And wordlessly scooped me up.
I dropped the bottle I’d held all night
Empty, it shattered on the concrete floor
My raincoat smelled of whiskey
And puke
There was an ambulance that time
But this time he buckles me in
Beside him and tucks his own coat
Around me.
Your young man called
He’s very upset
What happened?
What happened Dad?
What happened that night
At my junior-high dance?
How did you manage to lose me?
Rah Rah, he says, you asked us not to come
You wanted to go alone.
And then you didn’t come home.
I can’t stop shivering
Dad cranks the heat up
As high as it will go
I didn’t think you remembered
Much of that, Dad says
You were so drunk when we found you.
They had to pump your stomach.
That girl saved your life.
She called us when she heard
Told us she saw you around there
And remembered how the door would lock.
I grab Dad’s arm and tell him to stop.
Stop talking.
Stop the car.
I’m crying
Like I have never cried in my life
Dad, I say, I didn’t go down there alone
Those girls took me down there
Lured me down there
To drink with them
And then locked me in.
Locked me in the dark
In the cold
Nothing but concrete,
Whiskey and me
Mocked me through the door
And left me
To not quite die.
Dad pulls the parking brake
Are you sure?
Now I’m wailing: I’m so messed up
I’m going to go to jail
Or something terrible.
Samir and I were going to run away.
I don’t know what to do.
I’m so sorry Daddy, I say
I’ve screwed up so badly this time
I wanted to be better
I really tried
You didn’t do anything wrong, Dad says
My girl, my Rah Rah.
I’ll fix it.
chapter fifteen
TRUTH
SOAK
Samir calls, six times
While I’m soaking in the tub
Shivering, and finally
Being dressed by Mom
In flannel pajamas
And put into bed.
I’ll speak to the boy, she says
You need to sleep.
The phone stops ringing
I lie in bed, looking at the pink dress
On the floor where I discarded it
And will it to burst into flames
Of course it doesn’t
Because there are no such things
As miracles.
As for sleep
That’s not likely
My head is ringing
Their voices
What they shouted
Through the locked door
As I begged them
To let me out
Of the dark
That word they called me
It started with C.
RECKONING
It was a bad year, says Mom
Although I pretend to be asleep
She knows better.
I should have noticed
I should have been available for you
But I was trapped in my own grief
For Nana
And for Gabriel.
Now this year
I’ve done it again
Caught up in my own bullshit.
At this, I turn and look at her
Mom never swears in front of me.
I can do something for you
I know this boy, Samir
He didn’t deface that painting
I know you know who did
Why don’t you tell someone?
So I do
And half an hour later
I’m dressed
Sitting at the dining room table
Across from Genie
And her dad.
GENIE’S LAST STAND
She denies everything
And claims I faked my evidence
Her journal entries
And her loopy handwriting
Mean nothing to her.
I can see her father
Losing patience
And I get the feeling
This is not the first time
Genie has been caught in a lie.
But we get nowhere
She refuses to confess
And I adamantly defend Samir
And our long-suffering parents
Sigh and press their lips together.
Finally I ask to speak to Genie alone
I don’t have time for this, I say
I’m going to court tomorrow
For something I know I did do
I might end up in jail
So let’s get this out in the open
You have a score to settle with Samir?
Here, talk to him
I dial and hand her my phone
And then I go back to bed.
FACEBOOK PRIVATE MESSAGES
From Genie
I told sarah. she called david’s dad and told him. he’s dropping
the case. happy? i’ve lost my bff thanks to u. u and samir
deserve each other.
if u tell anyone else i’ll kill u. BTW i’ve changed ALL my
passwords.
-g
UNFRIEND
To Samir
How did you get her to change her mind about telling
the truth?
-r
From Samir
Don’t be mad, but you’re not the only one who’s taken a
naked picture. Good thing I saved the ones she sent to me.
I love you
-sam
To Samir
You saved them? Why did you save them?
-r
From Samir
Is there any answer that will make me NOT seem like a total
dick?
Still love you
-sam
REASON
There is some reason left in the world
Apparently
The judge rules that my art is just that.
Art, she says
Must be taken in context.
Since I was not the one
Who sent the image as a text
And when she is about to reveal
Who actually did
David’s father objects!
The judge glares at him but says
Sustained
What a seriously screwed-up system.
As for the “hate crime”
The laptop and Freckle
None of that is mentioned.
I leave the courthouse
Not a criminal
Not a sex offender
Just me
A misfit troublemaker
In mismatched shoes.
I HATE HOSPITALS
The smell, I think
Disinfectant on vinyl
Latex and bleach
And mashed potatoes
In neonatal
All of this is covered
With a cloud of baby poo
Spit-up, anxiety and grief
Hala watches her tiny son
Through the incubator plastic
Her hand resting beside him
His spidery fingers around her thumb.
I leave her Arab canvas, wrapped
And look for Mom to leave
But she’s sitting next to Hala
Samir appears in the doorway
What is his name?
Mom asks, and Hala clears her throat
Jibreel, it is an angel’s name
The same as the English Gabriel
Mom catches her breath
And takes Hala’s other hand
A moment passes so full
I think I hear the walls creak
Expanding to fit
The weight of heartbreak and hope
Samir and I lock eyes, knowing
We have just witnessed a miracle, of sorts.
THE END
Are you coming back to school?
Do you want me to?
I don’t know…my…
You’re breaking up with me, aren’t you?
I’m so sorry
I still love you
What difference does that make?
It should make a difference
But I don’t think I can be with you
Without becoming someone else.
Someone who I don’t want to be
Who I can’t be
And still be me.
Innocent and free. No parents, no school
No religion
No you, no me.
I meant those things when I said them
But things have changed
They haven’t changed for me
I love YOU
Not what you believe
I am what I believe
Because I believe
Jibreel is going to live, Inšh Allh
I know what that means
“If God wills it”
If that is who your god is
I don’t like Him.
You don’t understand
No, I don’t.
We’re too different.
I’m an adult
And you are a child.
MEMORY
That stung him
And the memory of his face
His pain
Sustains me.
Later
The memory of his hands
And lips and tongue
It’s only four thirty
Cold enough
That we can see our breath
Even in the car.
I love you, I say
In a cloud of mist
And touch his face
With my fuzzy glove
He closes his eyes
Takes my hand
And drags me, gently,
Into the backseat.
C-C-C-C-COLD
It’s much too cold
To do more than unzip our coats
And lie face to face
Wrapped in each other
For warmth.
I remove one fuzzy glove
And snake my hand
Between us
To the button of his jeans
Don’t, he breathes
It’s just touching, I say
It won’t take much
We’ll get all sticky
Anyway, he adds ironically
It’s a sin to spill it.
Maybe I could catch it
In a coffee cup, I say
Which makes us both laugh
So hard that he falls off the seat
And onto the floor.
He climbs back up painfully
And pulls me into a deep kiss
I slide into his lap
Joined at the hip
We forget the cold
Until the door opens
And a man’s head appears
Who the hell are you?
I say as Samir squirms out from under me
That’s my dad, he says.
CAUGHT
Samir drives
His sister sits in the back next to me
A chaperone
While Samir’s father drives ahead
In one of the company trucks.
It was the snow that doomed us
A plow driver
Recognized Samir’s father’s car
And, worried, called his cell phone
I guess he knew what he’d find.
Has he taken your virginity? Hala says
Hala! Samir says
Followed by a string of Arabic
Which his sister returns in kind
Before turning back on me.
Guarding your chastity is a test
But the reward is great
A woman’s virginity
Is given to her by God
For her to give to her husband.
Thanks, I say
But I like to think I have other gifts
As for what I have between my legs
That’s the gift that keeps on giving
I’ll give that to whomever I please.
I can see Samir in the rearview
Trying not to laugh
Sometimes I’m sure
He’s as shocked by the things I say
As I am.
SAMIR’S HOUSE
Samir and I sit
At the kitchen table
While Hala makes tea.
I can hear Samir’s parents
Talking in Arabic
In the next room
What are they saying?
I ask Samir
He listens for a moment
They’re talking about me
And the Muslim School
As if that matters now
Samir’s father comes in
And sits across from me
As Samir literally hangs his head.
Is he ashamed of me, I wonder
But his father speaks
Samir told me he loves you, he says
I feel the heat radiating out from my heart
Like a fire, spreading in a dry field
I know I’m blushing but I don’t care
Love is a blessing and a gift
His father says, unexpectedly
Not for us to question.
Do you love my son too?
Yes, I say, emphatically
Yes, so much it hurts.
Across from me, Samir sighs.
His eyes, through the prison-bar lashes,
Look up and meet mine
His father continues
Love requires sacrifice
What would you give up for my son?
Anything, I say, without hesitation
Everything. I think
Of Ella, abandoned on the rooftop
Half-formed, ill-thought Ella
Who never had a chance
To blossom
Ella, who was going to change my life
Who was going to be the change
That remade me in her image.
Ella, who would never hack a laptop
Display genitalia
Or fall in love with the wrong boy
Ella and her plan
To blend in, thrive
And avoid controversy
Ella, who I wish had answered
Politely, thoughtfully
Diplomatically
When Samir’s father asked
Do you love my son enough
To become a Muslim?
Instead it was me
Raphaelle
Who simply laughed.
RAPHAELLE FAILS THE TEST
My laughter dies in pain and silence
Samir’s father says something
But I can’t hear him
My heart pounds
in my ears
Because Samir is looking at me
And I can read his eyes
Disappointed
They say
Betrayed.
Then I’m out in the snow
Coat open and cold
Samir follows me
Please don’t go
He says
It doesn’t matter, he lies
God has joined us
He wants us to
Be together
Forever
Samir, I say, marveling at the snowflakes
Drifting down between us in the dark
And there are so many things
I want to say but all I
Can say is:
Samir, listen to me
I don’t believe
In your god
Or any
God.
PURGING: PART TWO
And so much follows
That I almost believe
It is me who incites
A blizzard to blow up.
Snow swirls around us
Like a poltergeist
And Samir’s tears
Freeze on his face.
How can there be a god
I cry into the wind
When babies die minutes
After they’re born?
How could your god let
Israel take your land?
How could their god
Let six million of them burn?
What kind of god
Would let those things happen?
Does he watch?
Does he laugh and enjoy it?
How could he let your father
Pretend he only has one son?
If being gay is not okay with God
Why does he allow it?
What the fuck does he have planned for me?
Am I supposed to go to jail
Ruin my life over a painting?
Maybe he just wants me to kill myself
Like Van Gogh
Maybe I should just carve off
Some body parts first
Maybe my nose
Or my breasts before
He fills them with cancer
Poke out my eyes
Before he blinds me.
Habibti, don’t talk like that
You don’t mean it
God loves you
I love you.
God loves me?!
If this is love I dread to see
What God would do
If he hated me.
How could God
Let those girls, those bitches
Lock me in the dark under the stairs
IN THE DARK, I scream, for the whole night?!
Suddenly I feel light-headed and hot
What girls? Samir says
What are you talking about?
For a blissful second I’m not sure
Then something acrid bubbles up inside me
I turn and vomit tea into a snowdrift
And want more than anything else
To tear off the pink dress.
Samir tries to stop me
But I pull away
And run
Home.
FOUR-WHEEL DRIVE: PART TWO
The Range Rover appears
A flash of blue in the whiteout
Dad jumps out and scoops me up
Like a little girl
Like he did once
When one of those cunts finally
Confessed the next day
That I was locked under the stairs
In the old auditorium.
He burst through the door
With police behind him
And wordlessly scooped me up.
I dropped the bottle I’d held all night
Empty, it shattered on the concrete floor
My raincoat smelled of whiskey
And puke
There was an ambulance that time
But this time he buckles me in
Beside him and tucks his own coat
Around me.
Your young man called
He’s very upset
What happened?
What happened Dad?
What happened that night
At my junior-high dance?
How did you manage to lose me?
Rah Rah, he says, you asked us not to come
You wanted to go alone.
And then you didn’t come home.
I can’t stop shivering
Dad cranks the heat up
As high as it will go
I didn’t think you remembered
Much of that, Dad says
You were so drunk when we found you.
They had to pump your stomach.
That girl saved your life.
She called us when she heard
Told us she saw you around there
And remembered how the door would lock.
I grab Dad’s arm and tell him to stop.
Stop talking.
Stop the car.
I’m crying
Like I have never cried in my life
Dad, I say, I didn’t go down there alone
Those girls took me down there
Lured me down there
To drink with them
And then locked me in.
Locked me in the dark
In the cold
Nothing but concrete,
Whiskey and me
Mocked me through the door
And left me
To not quite die.
Dad pulls the parking brake
Are you sure?
Now I’m wailing: I’m so messed up
I’m going to go to jail
Or something terrible.
Samir and I were going to run away.
I don’t know what to do.
I’m so sorry Daddy, I say
I’ve screwed up so badly this time
I wanted to be better
I really tried
You didn’t do anything wrong, Dad says
My girl, my Rah Rah.
I’ll fix it.
chapter fifteen
TRUTH
SOAK
Samir calls, six times
While I’m soaking in the tub
Shivering, and finally
Being dressed by Mom
In flannel pajamas
And put into bed.
I’ll speak to the boy, she says
You need to sleep.
The phone stops ringing
I lie in bed, looking at the pink dress
On the floor where I discarded it
And will it to burst into flames
Of course it doesn’t
Because there are no such things
As miracles.
As for sleep
That’s not likely
My head is ringing
Their voices
What they shouted
Through the locked door
As I begged them
To let me out
Of the dark
That word they called me
It started with C.
RECKONING
It was a bad year, says Mom
Although I pretend to be asleep
She knows better.
I should have noticed
I should have been available for you
But I was trapped in my own grief
For Nana
And for Gabriel.
Now this year
I’ve done it again
Caught up in my own bullshit.
At this, I turn and look at her
Mom never swears in front of me.
I can do something for you
I know this boy, Samir
He didn’t deface that painting
I know you know who did
Why don’t you tell someone?
So I do
And half an hour later
I’m dressed
Sitting at the dining room table
Across from Genie
And her dad.
GENIE’S LAST STAND
She denies everything
And claims I faked my evidence
Her journal entries
And her loopy handwriting
Mean nothing to her.
I can see her father
Losing patience
And I get the feeling
This is not the first time
Genie has been caught in a lie.
But we get nowhere
She refuses to confess
And I adamantly defend Samir
And our long-suffering parents
Sigh and press their lips together.
Finally I ask to speak to Genie alone
I don’t have time for this, I say
I’m going to court tomorrow
For something I know I did do
I might end up in jail
So let’s get this out in the open
You have a score to settle with Samir?
Here, talk to him
I dial and hand her my phone
And then I go back to bed.
FACEBOOK PRIVATE MESSAGES
From Genie
I told sarah. she called david’s dad and told him. he’s dropping
the case. happy? i’ve lost my bff thanks to u. u and samir
deserve each other.
if u tell anyone else i’ll kill u. BTW i’ve changed ALL my
passwords.
-g
UNFRIEND
To Samir
How did you get her to change her mind about telling
the truth?
-r
From Samir
Don’t be mad, but you’re not the only one who’s taken a
naked picture. Good thing I saved the ones she sent to me.
I love you
-sam
To Samir
You saved them? Why did you save them?
-r
From Samir
Is there any answer that will make me NOT seem like a total
dick?
Still love you
-sam
REASON
There is some reason left in the world
Apparently
The judge rules that my art is just that.
Art, she says
Must be taken in context.
Since I was not the one
Who sent the image as a text
And when she is about to reveal
Who actually did
David’s father objects!
The judge glares at him but says
Sustained
What a seriously screwed-up system.
As for the “hate crime”
The laptop and Freckle
None of that is mentioned.
I leave the courthouse
Not a criminal
Not a sex offender
Just me
A misfit troublemaker
In mismatched shoes.
I HATE HOSPITALS
The smell, I think
Disinfectant on vinyl
Latex and bleach
And mashed potatoes
In neonatal
All of this is covered
With a cloud of baby poo
Spit-up, anxiety and grief
Hala watches her tiny son
Through the incubator plastic
Her hand resting beside him
His spidery fingers around her thumb.
I leave her Arab canvas, wrapped
And look for Mom to leave
But she’s sitting next to Hala
Samir appears in the doorway
What is his name?
Mom asks, and Hala clears her throat
Jibreel, it is an angel’s name
The same as the English Gabriel
Mom catches her breath
And takes Hala’s other hand
A moment passes so full
I think I hear the walls creak
Expanding to fit
The weight of heartbreak and hope
Samir and I lock eyes, knowing
We have just witnessed a miracle, of sorts.
THE END
Are you coming back to school?
Do you want me to?
I don’t know…my…
You’re breaking up with me, aren’t you?
I’m so sorry
I still love you
What difference does that make?
It should make a difference
But I don’t think I can be with you
Without becoming someone else.
Someone who I don’t want to be
Who I can’t be
And still be me.
Innocent and free. No parents, no school
No religion
No you, no me.
I meant those things when I said them
But things have changed
They haven’t changed for me
I love YOU
Not what you believe
I am what I believe
Because I believe
Jibreel is going to live, Inšh Allh
I know what that means
“If God wills it”
If that is who your god is
I don’t like Him.
You don’t understand
No, I don’t.
We’re too different.
I’m an adult
And you are a child.
MEMORY
That stung him
And the memory of his face
His pain
Sustains me.
Later
The memory of his hands
And lips and tongue
