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Exiles in America(75)

By:Christopher Bram


There was no new painting here for Abbas to work on after sex, no home

for either of them to return to. In Williamsburg they seemed to have sex to

make a private, secret space for themselves. Here they were already alone, al-

ready private. Now what?

“Did you want to take a shower before we eat?”

“Oh yes, I forget,” said Abbas. “We have hot water here. We do not have

to rough it.”

But the bathroom was small, the shower not big enough for them to wash

together. Daniel sat on the lowered the lid of the toilet and watched while

Abbas went first. His body was a reddish brown silhouette in the clear shower

curtain. Daniel formed a tent of fingers over his nose for one more whiff of

Abbas—a musky scent of semen and fishy smell of anus—before he washed

him off his hands.

“You are serious when you say you like the little painting?” asked Abbas

from under the spray.

“The portable Rohani? Yeah. I like it very much.”

“Hmm. That is what Elena thinks, too. I wonder if I should do more pic-

tures like that.”

“Only if you want to.” Daniel was surprised to hear that he and Elena

agreed on something.

Dinner that night was a picnic in bed. They smoothed down the covers

and spread out a towel so they wouldn’t get crumbs in the sheets. They drew

the shade and turned on the table lamp. “It is chilly in here,” said Abbas. “I

am sorry, but I must put something on.” He wiggled into his ski sweater, but

nothing else. He left his glasses off. Daniel pulled on his long-sleeve jersey,

and they sat cross-legged on the bed, naked from the waist down. They ate

everything with their fingers, including the rice salad and tabbouleh.

“Very Arabian Nights,” said Daniel.

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

“I am thinking the Roman Empire,” said Abbas.

Their penises hung in their laps like two droopy flowers.

They praised the food, recommending the items they passed back and

forth. They opened the wine and poured it into two plastic cups from the

bathroom.

“Did you know,” said Abbas, “that our spouses are having dinner together

tonight?”

“Uh, yeah. Zack told me.”

“What do you think? Are they talking about us?”

“I hope not. But yes. Probably.” What else did Zack and Elena have to talk

about?

Abbas was eating a chicken breast, nibbling the breading, then biting the

meat. “I trust Elena to speak well of me. She is a good egg. I know I call her

crazy, but she is smart, she is tough. Other women are weeping machines, but

Elena is tough.”

“She doesn’t like me, does she?”

Abbas shrugged. “I presume Zack doesn’t like me.”

“He doesn’t dislike you. But he doesn’t trust you.”

“Oh? Why?”

“He doesn’t think you know what you want.”

Abbas looked surprised. “But I do. I want success and happiness and love.

All kinds of love. I am not always sure how to get those things, but the things

remain the same.”

Daniel was just one more item on the menu, which should have pleased

him, but it made him anxious.

“Why are we talking about our spouses?” he asked with a laugh. “We get

away from them and we talk about them. Why? We have to remind ourselves

what we’re escaping?”

Abbas chuckled, too. “I talk about Elena only out of habit. I am not guilty.

Not tonight. Because I paid her in full last night. She has no reason to complain.”

Daniel blinked. “You had sex with your wife last night?”

Abbas nodded. “It was only fair. Since you and I were going off.” He

wiped his mouth with a napkin. “And I thought about you the whole time, so

you should not feel jealous. Did you have sex with Zack before you left?”

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

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“I’ve told you. We don’t have sex anymore.” Daniel’s mind jammed shut on

the image of Abbas fucking Elena while thinking about him. It was too confus-

ing. “You know,” he said, “Zack hopes this weekend will cure us of each other.

That we’ll fuck each other’s brains out and I’ll get you out of my system.”

Abbas laughed. “I like the fucking-our-brains-out. But I don’t want to get

out of your system. Not yet.”

“Good. I want to keep you there, too. For a little longer.”

What Zack meant, of course, was that they would learn all there was to

know about each other, replace mystery with banal reality, and become bored

with each other. Daniel didn’t want to mention that idea to Abbas.

He held out his plastic cup for more wine. Abbas obliged him.