Exiles in America(128)

promptly called Elena and told her the news. She responded much as she had

to Zack’s first call about the FBI: with instant dismissal and long silences.

By the time Daniel got home, it was snowing again, white flakes tumbling

from the sky like ashes. The winter before the Iraq War was full of snow-

storms, even in Virginia.

Zack and Daniel sat at the kitchen table with cups of hot tea.

“There’s no cause for alarm,” Zack argued. “They’ll just ask their ques-

tions and send him home. But I’ve been thinking of people we can call in case

we do need help. Roy at the hospital should have a few ideas about the inter-

national law involved. And Jeremy”—Jeremy Edwards, their own attorney,

who did malpractice work—“might be able to recommend a good lawyer in

criminal law.”

“You think Abbas will be charged with a crime?”

“I don’t know. I’m just trying to think ahead. I don’t like being surprised

like I was this morning.”

E x i l e s i n A m e r i c a

2 9 3

They tried to remain calm and talk about other things, but there were no

other things.

“What exactly do they know about me and Abbas?” said Daniel.

“They weren’t specific. But they knew about the night you checked into a

Motel 6.”

Daniel smirked and shook his head. “A person can’t sneeze in this town

without somebody offering them a handkerchief,” he said in his best Last Pic-

ture Show voice.

“You’re being awfully cavalier.”

“How else am I supposed to react? To be honest, my sex life seems pretty

innocent right now, compared to everything else.”

Zack couldn’t argue with that.

At one o’clock, two hours after Abbas went off with the agents, Daniel

called the number on the business card. He got a machine. He left a message

and then called the Green Leafe to ask if Abbas Rohani were there. “You

know, the Iranian artist in residence?” They knew who Abbas was, but he

hadn’t been in today.

Daniel set the cordless phone flat on the table, very gently, very carefully,

as if it were a mousetrap that might snap off a finger.

“Maybe they went somewhere else,” said Zack. “Maybe he’s already

home.” He snatched up the phone and dialed Elena.

“I shouldn’t have let him go off with them,” Daniel muttered unhappily. “I

should have told him to wait.”

Elena answered. No, he had not come home. He hadn’t called either, and

she was getting worried. She didn’t sound panicky, however, but curt, irrita-

ble, impatient.

“You want to wait with us over here?” Zack asked her.

“I cannot. The kids are coming home. I must be here for them.”

“Then I could go over there. If you think company will help.”

Daniel gave him a confused, blinking look.

“Or we could both come over,” said Zack. “If that’s okay?”

“Yes. Thank you. I need the distraction. Until the kids get home. Then I

will be myself again. I am always myself around the kids.”

Daniel was frowning when Zack got off the phone.

2 9 4

C h r i s t o p h e r B r a m

“Sorry. Did I misunderstand you? You don’t have to come if you don’t

want to.”

“It’s not that. I’m not afraid of being around Elena.” Although he must be

if he could think it. “I’m just— I’ll go. There’s no real cause to worry. But if I

stay here alone, I’ll just sit and worry.”

Zack made a few calls requesting advice before they went out. Nobody an-

swered; it was all machines. He left his cell phone number. He hated carrying

his phone with him and did it only in emergencies, which today clearly was.

Daniel remained sitting across from him but did not look at Zack once

while he left his messages. Then Daniel asked, “So what’s the worst possible

thing that can happen here?”

“I don’t know. To be honest. My biggest fear right now is that it’s Friday.

If they’re holding Abbas, we won’t be able to get him out until Monday.”

There were other fears beyond that, of course, but Zack didn’t want to think

them.

f 2

They drove over. They could’ve walked, but Daniel pointed out that they

might need the car later. The snow continued to fall but stuck only in the

grass, like a heavy frost.

When Elena opened the door, the TV was blaring behind her: a talk show.

She wore jeans and a sweatshirt and no makeup. Zack realized with a start

that he’d never seen her dressed so casually, not even when she did her laun-

dry. Her face looked dry and pinched. She turned the TV off. “I left it on