On the 405 freeway, the two men talked about Dr. Schultz. Nina couldn’t understand what they said, but she heard the doctor’s name every now and then. Nina was used to doctors not having answers, and from what she could tell, Mustafa’s situation wasn’t nearly as dire as Azeem had led her to believe. He hadn’t had one episode and he’d been there nearly two weeks. Azeem had told her that he’d had episodes at least weekly, sometimes more than one a week. Now, she wondered if he’d lied just to get her to fly him over. If he’d lie about that, she thought, he’d lie about other things.
She leaned forward between the two seats up front and said, “You’ve been feeling pretty good since you’ve been here, yes?”
“Yes,” Mustafa said, turning to her.
“Interesting,” she said.
“What are you saying, Nina?” Azeem caught her eyes in the rearview.
“He’s just doing so well,” she said.
“And?” Azeem said.
“And nothing,” she said.
In the conversation that ensued, she could have sworn she heard Mustafa mention the name Raina, but when she leaned forward again and asked Azeem about it, he gave her an angry denial. “Jesus, Nina,” he said. “Stop it,” he told her.
When they got off the freeway, Azeem turned to her. “I’ve always thought that the doctors up north would know more. We’ll take a trip to San Francisco,” he said. “We’ll stop at Stanford. I’d love my brother to see the Golden Gate Bridge.”
He turned to Mustafa, who was saying something to him in Arabic. “Yes, you’re right,” Azeem said.
Nina asked what they were talking about. She looked out the window at two girls about Hannah’s age, riding by on bikes. A little boy rode his Big Wheel on the sidewalk. A woman sat on the porch with a little white dog in her lap. The light turned green and they moved forward.
“Mustafa was just saying that a lot of Americans jump off that bridge.”
“I don’t think of them as Americans,” she said. “I think of them as people. Just sad people.”
“But they
are
American,” Azeem said.
Don’t be petty,
she wanted to say.
Don’t be a liar,
she wanted to say. “I suppose so,” she said.
TONY STOOD
behind the counter, a pharmacist like his dad. Off to the side, Martin watched him work and thought about all the years he’d wasted in Las Vegas. He wished he’d done something during those years to become someone new. Tony
was
someone new, all cleaned up in his white jacket, his shiny black hair that used to grow into wild curls combed to one side, gelled and neat. Martin wondered why his mom hadn’t told him that Tony was her pharmacist. Maybe she wanted him to be surprised.
His old friend was attentive and thorough, handing a very old man a white bag of pills, leaning over to explain to the old guy not to mix that drug with this drug, and not to drink grapefruit juice with that one there. He pulled a vial of pills out of the bag and tapped on the lid to make his point. “Promise me, Clayton,” he said.
“I promise,” the old man said.
At the front of the line, Martin surprised him.
“Damn,” Tony said, smiling big. “Holy shit,” he said. He gestured to another guy in a white jacket to take over for him, and then stepped through the little gate to hug Martin properly.
“How long have you been back?”
“Just got here.”
“Are you staying?”
“I’ll stay awhile.”
“I want to catch up. Murphy’s was torn down, but we can grab a coffee down the street.”
“A coffee?”
“No booze for me.”
“Really?”
Tony nodded.
“You look all doctor-like,” Martin said. “Who would have thought you’d clean up like that?”
“Hey, listen,” Tony said. “I heard about your dad. I’m real sorry.”
“Thanks,” Martin said.
“I always liked your dad and his restaurants. He gave us free food. I remember those cheeseburgers and vanilla milk shakes. We’d be all stoned and he wouldn’t say a thing, just feed us.”
“Yeah.”
“He never gave us shit for anything we did. Remember that time we took his car to Huntington Beach to meet those chicks? Remember we left a bag of seeds and half a joint in the front seat? I used to get so fucked up,” Tony reminisced, obviously enjoying the memory. “Anyway, your dad was a good guy. How’s your mom holding up?”
“Not great.” Martin sighed.
“That’s too bad.”
“I think she’s crazy now,” he continued. “She acts like I’ve moved back to marry her, like I’m going to stay in that house forever.”
Tony laughed.
“It doesn’t help that they spent every fucking minute of their lives together.”
“Send her my best,” Tony said. Then he held up his hand, proudly displaying a wedding band. “Married Annabelle a year after you left.”
“Congratulations.”
“Two kids and a dog. It’s a good and boring life. What about you, Marty?”
“Left a girl in Las Vegas,” he said, lying.
Tony’s eyes lit up. “What is she, a dancer, a showgirl?”
“Marla’s a student.”
“Tell me she’s a showgirl—let me have a fantasy.”
Still the same old Tony. Martin shook his head.
“Why didn’t you bring her along?”
“She’s got classes, a life in Vegas.”
“Always breaking some girl’s heart,” Tony said.
They were quiet, looking at each other.
“You’re still good-looking,” Tony said then. He patted his own soft belly. “Me, I’ve gone to fat.”
“You look fine,” Martin said.
Tony shook his head. “
You
look fine,” he said. “We can find you someone new who lives out here just like that.” He snapped his fingers.
“Don’t worry about me,” Martin said.
The other pharmacist skittered out of the gate then, all flustered. He held a notepad and a pen. “I’ve got a question, Dr. Tony,” he said nervously.
“I’ll be there in a second,” Tony snapped, shooing the guy away.
“
Dr.
Tony?” Martin said, smiling.
“Yeah, I know,” Tony said. “Anyway, I have to get back. They don’t know heart meds from asshole meds. Want to get some coffee after work?” He talked over his shoulder. “I get off in fifteen minutes.”
“Hey, wait a minute,” Martin said, pulling his mom’s prescription out of his shirt pocket. “I need to fill this.”
IT WAS
obvious to Hannah that Mustafa felt immediately at home at The Elysium and was more than eager to take off his clothes, pull off those pants, rip off his shirt, and gross her out. She didn’t think he was stoned yet but was certain that he had joints in his bag. She wondered if he’d find the teenage nudie twins and get stoned with the two of them.
And sure enough, right after her mom and Azeem made their way down the hill, Mustafa happily, quickly, stepped out of his clothes. He stood before her and tried to engage her in conversation and she felt he was taunting her. For a guy who’d lost all that weight, his skin was surprisingly tight. She imagined the pounds melting away and his skin snapping right back into place.
It was strange enough between them when Mustafa was clothed, but now, standing in front of her with only his watch on, with his uncircumcised penis and little balls, she felt sort of nauseous. She was sitting on a blanket and he was standing up, his hairy crotch, those little balls swinging in front of her. “Go swimming or something,” she said.
“You’re not friendly today,” he said.
“You’re naked,” she said.
A pair of women in just their bras and tennis shoes walked by. They were holding rackets and one of them had sweatbands around her wrists.
“Why didn’t you invite your friend Rebecca here, to this good place?”
“She doesn’t even know about
this good place
. Please don’t mention it to my friends. I don’t want them to know. Promise me.”
“What about Pablo? Does he know?”
“No,” she said, raising her voice.
He looked at her and said nothing.
“I’d die,” she said.
“You’re shamed,” he said.
“It’s
a
shamed,” she corrected him. “And it’s not that. It’s just none of their business. Everybody doesn’t need to know everything. I’m sure you don’t tell people everything.”
“I disagree.”
“Did you tell Rebecca that you used to be big?”
“No, but you did. Thank you much.”
“Sorry about that,” she said, meaning it.
“I think you should tell your friends about here, Hannah. I think it’s a very good place,” he said again, looking around at all the naked bodies.
“You don’t tell your brother that you get stoned every day. He’d probably like to know that,” she said, threatening.
“Too bad you’re in a cast,” he said.
“Yes, it is.”
“You can’t swim or anything.” He looked at his watch.
“Thanks for reminding me,” she said.
He shrugged and walked away, down the hill, and she noticed that his ass was almost as hairy as Azeem’s.
• • •
She fell asleep on the blanket and when she woke up the naked twins were standing above her. “Can we sit with you?” Mica said. And the two of them sat down before she had the chance to answer. Their bare asses were on her blanket and Hannah decided that she’d wash it as soon as she got home. They’d obviously been swimming. Their hair was wet and Mica had twisted hers to one side and was wringing it out on the lawn.
“I didn’t like coming here at first, either,” Mitch said.
“You look pretty comfortable now,” Hannah said, trying not to look at their bodies.
“But we were born like this,” Mica said.
“Naked?”
They both laughed. “Our parents were nudists before we were born, so we grew up with it,” Mica said.
“They’d have parties with naked people—it wasn’t a big deal,” Mitch said. “To our friends it’s a big deal, though. They think we’re weird. Well, they think I’m weird because of other things too.” He pulled up a blade of grass and stuck it in his mouth.
Mica did the same, and they were both looking at her, chewing.
“My mom teaches high school English,” Hannah said, out of nowhere.
“A
nudist
English teacher,” Mitch said.
“Do your friends know?” Mica asked.
“No way.”
“I understand.”
“Show her what you brought her,” Mitch said.
Mica reached into her bag and pulled out a turquoise choker. “Your mom said you liked it,” she said.
“You didn’t have to do that,” Hannah said, touched. “That’s so nice of you. It’s beautiful.” And it was. The beads were small enough to be dainty, but big enough to get noticed.
“Can I help you put it on?” Mitch said.
She must have looked startled because he quickly added, “It’s not sexual. I mean, you’re good-looking and everything, but—”
Mica cut him off. “He’s a homosexual,” she said, nodding, proud.
“I’m queer,” Mitch said.
“That’s good,” Hannah said, feeling like an idiot. “I mean, it doesn’t matter to me. It’s normal. It’s fine.” She knew her words were coming out too fast. She felt like a fool. “I’m sorry,” she said. “No one’s ever come out and just said that. I don’t care, though. Honest.”
“I didn’t think you would,” Mitch said. “How about getting stoned with us later?”
“I don’t know,” she said, wavering.
“Think about it,” he said. “Now let me put this on you.”
She offered Mitch her neck and he reached around and put the necklace on, clicking the clasp.
“Perfect,” he said. “Don’t they look great with her eyes?”
Mica nodded.
“Thanks,” Hannah said, touching her new choker.
“Last time you were here, you ran away from us,” Mitch said, smiling.
“I was hungry,” Hannah said. “I went to get a sandwich.”
“The woman who works at the snack stand is our aunt,” Mica said.
“She’s back in the hospital,” Mitch said.
“I’m sorry,” Hannah said.
“I’ve never understood why people say they’re sorry when they don’t have anything to do with what’s wrong. No offense,” he said. “It’s just one of those things I think about. And why are people afraid of queers? There’s a queer on the football team at school, but no one knows he’s queer.
I
know because he tried to kiss me in the boys’ bathroom. If they knew, he wouldn’t get to play.”
“That’s terrible,” Hannah said.
“There’s a couple nudists here who won’t talk to my parents anymore since I announced I was gay.” He looked around the camp and pointed to a middle-aged couple at the pool. “The Harrisons. Those two think nudity is great, getting stoned terrific, but a guy with a guy freaks them out.”
“It’s not right,” Hannah said.
“Your brother’s pretty funny,” Mica said.
“He’s not my brother.”
And just then Mustafa came rushing up, all worried. His forehead was sweating, his hairy chest glistening, and his penis bounced against his thigh. “I can’t find Azeem,” he said, out of breath. “Have you seen my brother? Where’s your mom?”
“I don’t know where your brother is,” Hannah said, “but my mom’s right there.” She pointed across the way to where Nina was sitting with that same group of women she was visiting the last time Hannah was here.
“He said he’d play tennis with me at two.” Mustafa glanced at his watch. “He’s late,” he said.
NINA FELT
it in her body, in her stomach and chest, before she found them.
She’d been talking to Kendra about her job and students, telling her that no matter how many times she read Shakespeare, the beauty astounded her, and then Kendra was talking about being a warden in an all-female facility, describing one inmate in particular whom she cared about and believed in, how she understood why the woman might want to shoot her husband in the leg, how aiming right at his thigh was different than trying to kill a man, and it hit Nina suddenly where Azeem was and what he was doing.
“Excuse me,” she said, leaving Kendra midsentence.
She walked down the hill to the Ankh Room, which was really many rooms shooting out from a getting-to-know-you lobby full of beanbag chairs and furry rugs. She went through the lobby without looking at the people who were getting to know each other, and straight to the room where she and Azeem had made love the second time they visited the camp.