Exiles in America(17)

the English Department. The college paid for the screenings, but the theater

remained open to the ticket-buying public. Ross did whatever he could to

keep his business going.

They found him working the popcorn stand in the mock-colonial lobby.

“Guys! Was hoping you’d come tonight. Nothing but students in there. Peo-

ple don’t appreciate the classics.”

“ ‘Don’t nobody come to the picture show no more,’ ” said Daniel in his

best Texas accent.

“Ain’t it the truth. Not even our Iranian friends. I was hoping I’d see her

here sometime. Maybe she doesn’t like movies.”

“You mean Elena?” said Zack.

Ross heard a soft accusation, which people often did with Zack, simply be-

cause of his profession. “I know, I know,” he said with a guilty smirk. “She’s a

married lady. I’d just like to see her again. That’s all. She’s interesting. They

both are. I’d like to see them both.”

“They keep to themselves,” said Daniel. “I don’t even see the husband at

school. He has a studio there, but he’s never in it when I’m around.” He

shrugged. “I’ve forgotten all about them.”

f 2

Daniel went for a morning swim at the college gym every Monday, Wednes-

day, and Saturday. Saturday was his favorite day, simply because students slept

late and he usually had the pool to himself. The Saturday after Double Indem-

nity he drove over in the car—the gym was only a mile away, behind the fra-

ternity houses, but walking took too long. The weather was now cool and

schoolish in the mornings.

Daniel was in the locker room, pulling on his Speedo, when he heard a

high-pitched squeal out in the echoey pool. It sounded like a child. He hung

his goggles around his neck, walked through the men’s showers, and came

around the corner.

4 0

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

The enormous sky blue room appeared empty at first, its liquid blue floor

full of wiggling black lines, nothing else. Then Daniel saw the figure standing

on the curb at the shallow end, a dark body in tight red trunks: Abbas Rohani.

There were two children in the water at his feet, a laughing little boy and a

solemn little girl. Abbas clapped his hands at them and said something in

French. He turned when he noticed his daughter staring at someone.

Daniel felt embarrassed, as if he’d walked in on a very private act. But the

man was only playing with his kids. “Good morning,” he called out. “These

yours?”

Abbas glared at him, squinted and frowned. Startled, Daniel was ready to

turn and walk away when Abbas broke into a grin—a warm grin displaying a

mouthful of small, neat teeth. “Good morning, Daniel. It is good to see you

again. Yes. These are my children.”

He wasn’t wearing his glasses—that’s all his frown meant. He was actually

pleased to see Daniel.

“Hel-lo. What-is-your-name?” chanted the little boy hanging on the side.

“My name is Osh. Hel-lo. What-is-your-name?” he repeated. They were

memorized sounds, not words. “My name is Osh.”

“Poppi!” cried the girl. “I’m cold!” She held up a hand signaling that she

wanted to be pulled out.

He bent over and lifted her up. The red trunks hugged his narrow ass like

paint. The backs of his thighs were black with hair.

The girl stood beside her daddy, holding herself in her skinny arms and

stamping her little feet. Her eyes were so dark that they looked rimmed with

kohl, a baby Theda Bara.

“This is Mina,” said Abbas, setting both hands on his daughter’s shoul-

ders. “And that is Osh.” He nodded at the boy. “And this is Daniel, who is a

painter like your poppi.”

The girl knotted up her mouth in a frown.

“You come here every day?” Abbas asked.

“Every other day,” said Daniel. “To swim laps.”

“A lovely pool. I am surprised no one else is here. Elena and I have an

arrangement. I take the kids on Saturday and she can have time alone. Is only

fair, yes? So I come here. It is our first visit.”

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

4 1

The little girl continued to frown at Daniel. He suddenly felt very naked

standing before this family in his dinky black Speedo—and very gay. He shyly

stepped back. “Have a good time,” he told them. “Enjoy yourselves. See you

later, Abbas.”

“Yes, yes, Daniel. Enjoy your laps.”

Daniel hurried away, fearing he looked awfully nelly tiptoeing over the

tiles. He quickly snapped his goggles over his eyes and dove into the pool. He

clothed himself in water.