“Life without love is
like a tree without blossoms or fruit.”
Khalil Gibran 1883-1931
“What if,” I suggested,
“you wake up in the next few weeks and decide you want to leave this all behind.
How would you do it?”
“It’s not going to
happen, Grady.”
“Humor me, Kam. It
doesn’t hurt to be prepared, right?”
“Put your Hollywood dreams back in your camera,” he admonished.
Determined to play this
out, I continued with my questions. “Could you get to Europe
in this thing?”
“How do you think it
got here?”
Ignoring his sarcasm, I
asked. “Where’s your passport?”
He shook his head. “In
my safe at home.”
“Which home?”
Sighing, he grabbed my
head between his hands and planted a big wet one. “It’s here in Karachi New York , I’m going back to Tehran
“What’ll happen to the
yacht?”
“We’ll put it in dry
dock for the winter, and then Jon and Gus will go home for a much-needed
break.”
“Where does it dry
dock?”
“Right here at the boat
club.”
“That’s good to know.”
“Why?”
“’Cause it’s not there,” I said. “You can’t very well
escape if they impound your boat.”
“You should really
become a writer instead of a cinematographer,” Kam noted, shaking his head.
“What an imagination you have.”
Ignoring him, I asked,
“How long is the car ride from Tehran
“Grady, stop this,” Kam
said irritably.
“Answer me.”
“It’s a little under three
thousand kilometers door to door. A full day at least, maybe less if we drive
straight through.”
“What about gas?”
“What about it?”
“Won’t you need to
stop? What if they put some kind of embargo on gasoline?”
“Who’s they?” he asked,
voice rising.
“I don’t know,” I spat
out. “The king of fucking Siam
“Hey,” he said softly.
I couldn’t see his
face, but I could tell by the tone of his voice that he’d banked his anger.
Apparently my tears were far more effective than my logic. I looked up at him,
no longer ashamed of my emotional outpouring. I wanted him to know this
impending marriage was breaking my heart. I knew I had no right, but it
wouldn’t hurt for him to see how much I cared.
“Come here,” he said,
reaching for my hand and drawing me onto his lap.
I straddled him and
stuck my face in the crook of his neck, continuing to snivel like I was ten. “I
can’t stand the thought of you being so miserable,” I murmured when I could
finally speak. “Living a lie will shrivel your soul, Kamran. You’ll turn into a
bitter old man long before your time.”
His spoke softly
against my ear. “Life without love is like a tree without blossoms or fruit.”
“Exactly,” I said, straightening up. “I agree with Gibran. I know you’re
terribly conflicted about a lot of things, and I’ll never know what it’s like
living in a culture where you have to follow orders blindly because of
tradition, but you do have resources to fall back on should you choose to follow your
heart. I want you to know that I’ll support you any way I can, and if my father
can help, he will. You just need to ask.”
Excerpt from my novel Yesterday.
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