Free Audacious by Gabrielle Prendergast

from under me
    That’s my dad, he says.

CAUGHT
    Samir drives
    His sister sits in the back next to me
    A chaperone
    While Samir’s father drives ahead
    In one of the company trucks.
    It was the snow that doomed us
    A plow driver
    Recognized Samir’s father’s car
    And, worried, called his cell phone
    I guess he knew what he’d find.
    Has he taken your virginity? Hala says
    Hala! Samir says
    Followed by a string of Arabic
    Which his sister returns in kind
    Before turning back on me.
    Guarding your chastity is a test
    But the reward is great
    A woman’s virginity
    Is given to her by God
    For her to give to her husband.
    Thanks, I say
    But I like to think I have other gifts
    As for what I have between my legs
    That’s the gift that keeps on giving
    I’ll give that to whomever I please.
    I can see Samir in the rearview
    Trying not to laugh
    Sometimes I’m sure
    He’s as shocked by the things I say
    As I am.

SAMIR’S HOUSE
    Samir and I sit
    At the kitchen table
    While Hala makes tea.
    I can hear Samir’s parents
    Talking in Arabic
    In the next room
    What are they saying?
    I ask Samir
    He listens for a moment
    They’re talking about me
    And the Muslim School
    As if that matters now
    Samir’s father comes in
    And sits across from me
    As Samir literally hangs his head.
    Is he ashamed of me, I wonder
    But his father speaks
    Samir told me he loves you, he says
    I feel the heat radiating out from my heart
    Like a fire, spreading in a dry field
    I know I’m blushing but I don’t care
    Love is a blessing and a gift
    His father says, unexpectedly
    Not for us to question.
    Do you love my son too?
    Yes, I say, emphatically
    Yes, so much it hurts.
    Across from me, Samir sighs.
    His eyes, through the prison-bar lashes,
    Look up and meet mine
    His father continues
    Love requires sacrifice
    What would you give up for my son?
    Anything, I say, without hesitation
    Everything. I think
    Of Ella, abandoned on the rooftop
    Half-formed, ill-thought Ella
    Who never had a chance
    To blossom
    Ella, who was going to change my life
    Who was going to be the change
    That remade me in her image.
    Ella, who would never hack a laptop
    Display genitalia
    Or fall in love with the wrong boy
    Ella and her plan
    To blend in, thrive
    And avoid controversy
    Ella, who I wish had answered
    Politely, thoughtfully
    Diplomatically
    When Samir’s father asked
    Do you love my son enough
    To become a Muslim?
    Instead it was me
    Raphaelle
    Who simply laughed.

RAPHAELLE FAILS THE TEST
    My laughter dies in pain and silence
    Samir’s father says something
    But I can’t hear him
    My heart pounds
    in my ears
    Because Samir is looking at me
    And I can read his eyes
    Disappointed
    They say
    Betrayed.
    Then I’m out in the snow
    Coat open and cold
    Samir follows me
    Please don’t go
    He says
    It doesn’t matter , he lies
    God has joined us
    He wants us to
    Be together
    Forever
    Samir, I say, marveling at the snowflakes
    Drifting down between us in the dark
    And there are so many things
    I want to say but all I
    Can say is:
    Samir, listen to me
    I don’t believe
    In your god
    Or any
    God.

PURGING: PART TWO
    And so much follows
    That I almost believe
    It is me who incites
    A blizzard to blow up.
    Snow swirls around us
    Like a poltergeist
    And Samir’s tears
    Freeze on his face.
    How can there be a god
    I cry into the wind
    When babies die minutes
    After they’re born?
    How could your god let
    Israel take your land?
    How could their god
    Let six million of them burn?
    What kind of god
    Would let those things happen?
    Does he watch?
    Does he laugh and enjoy it?
    How could he let your father
    Pretend he only has one son?
    If being gay is not okay with God
    Why does he allow it?
    What the fuck does he have planned for me?
    Am I supposed to go to jail
    Ruin my life over a painting?
    Maybe he just wants me to kill myself
    Like Van Gogh
    Maybe I should just carve off
    Some body parts