Exiles in America(141)

other days she wanted to go straight to Canada. Abbas mentioned Iran again

but withdrew the idea as soon as Elena vehemently resisted. “So we are para-

lyzed. We play a waiting game, only I do not know what we are waiting for.

Sorry. I complain too much. But a Russian is like an onion. The more you peel

us, the more you weep.”

Zack asked if the FBI had been back, but no, the agents had made their

trouble and disappeared.

“But they are out there, I know. Your secret police is more delicate than

ours. More secret.”

“And the neighbors? Has war talk turned them against you?”

“Oh no. Americans are always nice to foreigners. To their faces anyway.

They might want to see us blown to bloody hell on television. But they try to

be nice in person.”

That weekend Elena called to ask for a special favor. They were driving to

D.C. on Tuesday to visit the French embassy. Jeremy had set up a meeting to

ensure their status as French citizens. While they were up there, Elena wanted

to go to the Canadian embassy and check out the possibility of an early move

to Toronto.

“I don’t know how late we will be. Can Mina and Osh stay with you after

school until we get back?”

“We’d be delighted.”

On Tuesday, at two-thirty, the school bus dropped the kids off at Indian

Springs Road. Daniel had come home early to look after them while Zack saw

his patients, but Mina announced that she could take care of her brother,

thank you very much. They went down to the basement to do their home-

work, watch cartoons, and hang out with Jocko.

“That boy is so spoiled,” said Daniel with a laugh. “A regular little

prince.”

Zack saw three patients that afternoon, two college students and a middle-

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

3 2 3

aged husband. He enjoyed working with students. Their problems weren’t

half as interesting as they thought, and they could be bottomless pits for ad-

vice and reassurance, but they were more flexible than adults, more open to

change. Both of these students looked surprised when Zack asked if they were

worried about the war. “What war?”

When he was done, he sat at his computer and typed up his notes. There

was a timid knock on the door. It slowly opened: Mina.

“Oh, hi,” said Zack. “How’s it going? Find everything you need?” He au-

tomatically talked to her as a peer.

“Uh-huh.” She stood at the door, her eyes climbing around the room.

“You help people here? Don’t you have a thing to lie down on?”

“A couch? No. I got rid of my couch years ago. Come on in. I’m done for

the day. I’d give you a tour but I don’t have much to show.”

She strolled into the room, confident and composed, her slim, dark hands

held away from her sides, her jet-black eyes taking in everything. There was a

slight tremble to her hoop earrings. “Where do your patients sit?”

“There.” He pointed at the leather straight-back chair. “Go ahead. Sit in it

if you want to know what it feels like. I don’t do anything weird or magical

here. I just listen while people talk.”

He thought she’d get giggly and nervous, but no, she went over to the

chair, hopped into it, and sat up straight. “I came today to talk about my hus-

band,” she declared in a make-believe grown-up voice. “We argue all the

time.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, madam. What do you argue about?”

“Every little thing. What to eat. Where to go. When to sleep.”

Zack didn’t have a lot of experience working with kids, but he thought he

could playact with Mina and learn something. “Have the fights been getting

worse lately?”

“Oh yes. Because my husband wants to live on Mars. I want to stay on

Earth. I can’t live on Mars. The air would kill me. But my husband says the air

on Earth is killing him. What should I do?”

Her eyes widened as she spoke, as if she were frightening herself with her

game. It wrung Zack’s heart.

“What about your children? You have children, right?”

3 2 4

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

“Yes, we have two beautiful sons.”

“I thought you had a beautiful daughter?”

“We did. But we traded her for a son. Sons are more valuable.”

He wanted to blame Abbas for her attitude, but this wasn’t about blame.

“I disagree. I prefer women. They’re smarter and more sympathetic. They’re

more interesting.”

“You would think that. You’re a homo.”

“True.” Was this how he and Daniel were identified in that household: the

homos? “Where do the children want to live?”