Exiles in America(153)

dered in and out, joining or leaving, sometimes whispering to neighbors. This

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was not nearly as anal as the Catholic or Protestant services that Daniel knew

from weddings. A few men wore skullcaps. It was all very calm and gentle.

Zack might be able to read some deeper message here, but Daniel couldn’t.

Daniel had no feeling for religion. This was as meaningless to him as a bas-

ketball game. It was as masculine as basketball, too, with no women present,

only men of all nations, in all kinds of clothes: business suits and workmen’s

overalls and baggy hip-hop jeans. They sat back on their heels and bowed for-

ward again, their shirttails pulling free from their trousers.

Maybe Abbas no longer needed to have sex with men now that he could

worship with them.

Was that what it had been about? Sex was a substitute for religion? Abbas

had wanted Daniel for a while, until he grew bored with him and decided to

want God instead. He had fled Daniel and sex and the FBI, and disappeared

into God. Daniel couldn’t follow him. He couldn’t even begin to imagine

what Abbas’s new life was like.

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It was late when Daniel got home. He hoped Zack had gone ahead and started

dinner, but he opened the door off the carport and found him sitting in the

rec room, grimly watching CNN. Daniel took a quick look at the screen: a

pundit was pontificating.

“Is it war yet?”

“No. Just more experts saying how quick and easy war will be.”

“Then don’t watch. It’s depressing.”

Zack shrugged. “I’m depressed already. This makes my depression feel

earned.” He sat slouched in a corner of the couch, looking as shapeless and

heavy as a laundry bag, his head resting in a hand that was propped on the

armrest. He continued to face the TV. “Where have you been?”

“Nowhere.” But Daniel had no reason to keep his trip a secret. “Actually,

I drove down to that mosque in Newport News. Just to see what it looked

like.”

Now Zack looked at him. “Really? I wish you’d told me. I would like to

have gone.”

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

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“Why? Abbas was my friend. Not yours.” He didn’t mean to be brusque,

but Zack’s interest annoyed him. “Nothing to see anyway. Just a lot of men on

their knees bowing to God. I don’t get it.”

Zack gave Daniel a long, sad, puppy-dog look. “Well, I’d like to see a Mus-

lim service. Just to attach a picture to what that man is doing to his family.”

And Daniel’s temper snapped. “Look, they’re gone. Okay? Let’s just wash

our hands of them, okay? Can’t we have some closure around here?”

Zack did not seem surprised by Daniel’s anger, not nearly as surprised as

Daniel felt. Then Zack shook his fist weirdly at the TV—he was holding the

remote and repeatedly pressing it to mute the sound. “What did you see down

there that upset you?”

“Not a damn thing. I’m in a shitty mood, okay?” Daniel walked behind the

couch, headed for the stairs. He wanted to be alone with his self-pity tonight.

He did not want to share it.

“You can’t feel any shittier than I do,” said Zack.

Daniel stopped. “Yeah? What do you feel shitty about? You miss your

buddy Elena?”

Zack looked surprised, his expression like a wince. “I do, in fact. I miss the

whole family, but especially her.”

“Well, I miss Abbas. Because I was in love with him. You said so yourself.

And I admit it. I was in love. It’s not the same thing.”

“Maybe. Maybe not.” Zack turned away. “I’m beginning to think I was in

love with Elena. In my oblivious, half-assed fashion.”

Daniel cocked an ear at Zack, unsure he’d heard right.

“I always liked her,” he explained. “I always enjoyed being with her. She’s

an amazing woman. Smart and open and brave. Not until she disappeared did

I realize how deep my liking went.”

Damn, thought Daniel. Of course. A laugh would be appropriate here,

only he didn’t laugh.

Zack continued to face the silent TV, where a female journalist stood out-

side a sunbaked village. Iran might look like that, yet this was probably Saudi

Arabia. The crawl underneath read: “Weapons inspectors withdraw. The

search for allies continues.”

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“That’s what my grief was about the other night. That’s why their leaving

hit me so hard. I was in love with her. In my fashion.” Zack turned to Daniel,

a sheepish smile peeking through his beard. “I don’t mean love in the way that