Blurb
In June of 1978 Grady Ormond, eighteen-year-old son of diplomat Peter Ormond, accompanies his father to his new posting as US Ambassador to Pakistan. Neighboring Iran is on the brink of a civil war, with the monarchy in danger of being overthrown.
Grady will be leaving for New York City in late August to study cinematography and has been warned to keep his homosexual orientation tightly under wraps while on vacation. Repercussions in the predominantly Islamic region could be severe.
On their first night in Karachi, his father hosts a cocktail party to meet the local dignitaries. Grady is introduced to His Highness Prince Kamran Izadi, nephew of the shah of Iran. Twenty-three-year-old Kamran has recently returned from the UK, where he spent eleven years, first as a student, and then as a financial analyst.
The attraction is immediate—unforeseen and dangerously powerful—but neither one dares to make a move. Odds are so stacked against them it’s futile to even entertain a friendship, but they do, and their world tilts precariously.
With his country in turmoil and Grady about to leave for college, Kamran makes a decision that will change their lives forever.
Excerpt
The next
morning, Father and I met for breakfast, and I mentioned Kamran’s offer to show
me around town.
His spoonful of cereal was halfway to his mouth when I gave
him my news, and he slowly lowered it back to his bowl. “That’s nice of him,”
he said. Looking me in the eye in that thoughtful way of his, he continued. “Try
to stay out of trouble, Grady. I’ll have enough on my mind as it is. The entire
region is a powder keg right now, and we don’t want to be the ones to light the
match.”
“About that,” I began. “What’s going on in Iran? I haven’t
been paying much attention.”
“More of the same. The mullahs are unhappy with the shah’s
attempt to get Iran out of the Dark Ages.”
“Why?”
“He’s trying to reinvent the proverbial wheel and is
stepping on religious toes in the process. Modernizing a country steeped in
tradition is an uphill battle, and he’s made a lot of enemies along the way.
The shah is also prone to excess and flaunting his wealth with ridiculous
celebrations like the one in 1971.”
“That was seven years ago.”
“People still talk about it. It was meant to celebrate 2,500
years of the Persian Empire, but it turned into a monumental tribute to his
ego. An entire city of tents was erected to house the dignitaries and
celebrities invited to join in the two-week event. Food was catered from Maxim’s
in Paris, for heaven’s sake, and the palace household was outfitted by the
famous couturier Lanvin. They hemorrhaged money while most of the country could
barely scrape enough together to feed themselves. It was a hedonistic and
blatant attempt to prove to the world that they were meant to rule. Rumor has
the total expenditure at well over eighteen million dollars. That money could
have been used more wisely, and if it was a tribute he wanted, modernizing the
infrastructure of the country or adding more schools and hospitals would have
been better. The old religious faction was up in arms, but the shah squashed
them like bugs. Anyone who disagreed with him was exiled or dragged off in the
middle of the night by SAVAK, and usually never seen again.”
“SAVAK?”
“The Iranian secret police, a modern-day version of the SS
and just as reviled. They’re famous for torturing dissidents or anyone opposing
the shah. You don’t want to mess with them.”
“The shah sounds like a megalomaniac.”
Father shrugged. “It’s hard to know what to believe, there
are so many conflicting stories. Ever since oil was discovered over there in
the early nineteen hundreds, Iran has attracted great interest from the West.
The Brits played a dominant role in developing the Persian oil industry until
World War II, and then the Soviets joined them to keep the Germans away. We
sort of stayed on the sidelines until 1953, and then Prime Minister Mossadegh
started playing footsies with Moscow, so the CIA helped boot him out and gave
the shah a lot more power. He’s been really friendly with us ever since.
Unfortunately the religious leaders think there’s an imbalance of wealth and
feel the country is becoming too westernized. Nonetheless, we’re obligated to
watch the shah’s back as best as we can. The alternative, putting the fanatic
religious in power, would be a disaster.”
“Why do I get this feeling you’d rather I stay away from the
prince?”
“Hanging around with one of their royals isn’t a great idea.”
“What could possibly happen over here?”
“There have been ongoing threats to anyone who carries the
Pahlavi genes. Kamran is the son of the shah’s half sister. Up until Reza II
was born in 1960, he was in line to succeed his uncle. They raised him with
that in mind. Even if he’s no longer a viable candidate, he is still a royal
and could serve as an example if the dissidents decide he’s a convenient
target. That’s the reason why he’s got bodyguards following him around at all
times.”
“I didn’t think he was much older than me,” I said, picking
out that piece of information among all the rest.
“Not by a lot,” Father replied. “Maybe five years.”
“I’ll ask when I see him next. In any case, I would think
the goons will protect me as well if there’s a need.”
“Why even put yourself at risk?”
“Don’t worry, Father. All I want to do is film the green
turtle migration while I have the chance and learn a little more about this
part of the world. Once I’m back in school, I’ll be too busy to travel, at
least until I’m done.”
“Well, fortunately for you, I’ll be able to come and visit
as often as I’m needed.”
“Hopefully you won’t need to. I’m a big boy now, or haven’t
you noticed?”
“I’ve more than noticed, Grady, and I’m worried. Are you
simply experimenting with your artistic friends, or are you really not
interested in women?”
“Some of my best friends are women, Father. And therein lies
the problem. The spark that usually leads to romance seems to be lacking
between me and the female persuasion.”
“Have you had any relationships with men?”
“Would you be terribly disappointed in me if I were to say
yes?”
“I’m not passing judgment, son. I need to know so I can be
prepared.”
“For what?”
“Questions. I don’t like being blindsided. America is not as
tolerant as Europe when it comes to homosexuals, and it would be in your best
interest to lay low instead of pretending you and your bohemian friends are the
norm.”
“My best interest or yours?”
“Both. Funding would stop if I’m unemployed.”
“The state department would fire you for having a queer son?”
“Not in so many words, but if my son is embroiled in any
sort of scandal, I’ll hear about it.”
“Well, rest assured, I will be the model of discretion.”
“Thank you,” Father replied sincerely. “It’s all I can hope
for. You are aware that homosexuality is punishable by death in Iran.”
“Quite.”
“Don’t forget.”
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