Page 55 of Under the Arabian Sky

“You will do no such thing!” Tariq’s father stood with so much rage that his chair fell backward and hit the floor with a loud bang that made everyone jump.

“That’s enough!” snapped Zahra. “Sit down, Saleem… before you fall down. The two of you, stop fighting this instant. You’re embarrassing yourselves in front of our guest.”

“This man is no guest in my house,” Tariq’s father said, pointing at me with disdain.

“Father, how dare you speak to him like that. Arthur is my friend. He is my lover!”

Tariq’s father gasped in shock. “How dare you use those words in my home?”

Suddenly I stood, unable to take anymore or hide the tremor in my voice. “You don’t need to worry about me, Mr. Hassan. It’s clear that I’m not welcome here.”

“Arthur, please…”

“No, Tariq. I’m not going to sit by and let your father use me as a wedge that he can drive between the two of you. But before I go, I will say this much…” I turned to Tariq’s father and took a deep breath, my words shaking with anger. “Sir, I’m sorry for your ill health, I truly am. I don’t mean to insult you, or your faith, or your culture. I know I am at best a guest in this house, and at worst a stranger in a land I don’t fully understand. But your son is the smartest, kindest, funniest, wisest, most authentic person I’ve met in a long, long time, and he deserves your respect. He deserves your love. You need to love him for the son he is, not despise him because he’s not the man you wish he was.” Still trembling, I turned to Tariq and Zahra. “Zahra, thank you for your hospitality, you’ve been nothing but kind and courteous to me. Now if you’ll excuse me, I think it’s time I left.”

With that I showed myself to the door.

As it closed behind me, I heard Tariq’s footsteps as he hurried after me.

I made it halfway to the clinic door before he caught up with me and grabbed my arm, spinning me around to face him. “Arthur, don’t do this. Please don’t leave.”

“Tariq, your father is clearly offended by my presence. I think it’s best for all of us if I just leave. It’s time for me to pack my bags. You don’t have to take me anywhere; I’ll call a taxi.”

“And go where? Back to the old dormitory?”

“For one last night, yes.”

He eyed me, puzzled. “What do you mean, ‘one last night’.”

I sucked in my breath and courage once more. “Tariq, my boss has found a replacement for me here. I’m not needed anymore.”

“Tell him to cancel the replacement. Tell him you’re happy here.”

“Am I?”

“I thought you were.”

“When I’m with you, yes… I’m the happiest I’ve been in years. But when I hear your father talk about homosexuality as a sin… when I hear him trying to convince you to live a lie so that it might save your soul… it makes me question what I’m doing here.”

“You came for your job… and I had hoped you might stay… for me.”

“I’m a fish out of water, Tariq.”

“So, you’re just going to run away? Is that how you solve your problems?”

I didn’t know how to respond, so I didn’t take the bait. “Professor Henderson has booked me a flight back to England tomorrow morning.”

“A flight? But you don’t fly.”

“Maybe I’m ready to try.”

“Are you serious?” He threw his hands up in the air in frustration. “You’re willing to confront your fear of flying in order to run away. Why not instead confront the fear you have of staying?”

“I don’t have a fear of staying.”

“Yes, you do, Arthur. Don’t you see, you have a fear of commitment… a fear of ever loving someone again in case you lose it all, just like before? Until you face that fear, you’ll never love again Arthur.”

“Oh please, spare me the psychoanalysis.”

---