Dinarzad's Children: An Anthology of Contemporary Arab American Fiction

In-Country

IN-COUNTRY
RABIH ALAMEDDINE Waiting for my father, I stood by the banister and stared at the living room below. A spherical crystal chandelier hung from the cathedral ceiling down to the lower level. Two-story floor-to-ceiling windows dominated the lower room. Their layers of drapes, as dense and heavy as a theater curtain, the same colors and pattern as the wallpaper, gold with stylized metallic gray-blue paisley peacocks. The wall-to-wall carpeting was inches deep and avocado green. I walked into the first room, the same avocado carpet and wallpaper in dark rose with a large white floral pattern, matching the bed and curtains. The bellboy had placed my bags in this room. The bathroom was cream and yellow ochre with two doors, each opening to one of the upstairs rooms. I walked through the bathroom to the second room, which I assumed to be my father’s. It was just as lush and bright, lime green, with the same carpet. I was not sure what tipped me off, but my recognition that this was not my father’s room was instantaneous. The watch on the nightstand was a Patek Philippe, rather than one of the Baume et Merciers he wore. The cologne was the black Paco Rabanne, definitely too strong for my father. It must be Uncle Joseph’s. I descended the stairs to the living room and master bedroom. I had a strong urge to touch everything, my hands sweeping over marble, mahogany, satin, and velvet. In the bedroom, I rubbed the wallpaper, my hand grazing the soft fabric in wide sweeps. I sat on the bed, caressed the pillow, lay my head down. I usually loved smelling the scents of my parents on their bed, but something here was peculiar. I smelled foreign cologne. I stood back up, looked 27 1KALDAS_pages:1KALDAS pages i-72.qxd 8/3/09 2:35 PM Page 27 around, and saw one of my father’s watches. It was his room, all right. I ran up the winding stairs, grabbed a washcloth from the bathroom , dropped my jeans, jumped onto my bed, and humped the soft fabric of the bedcover. Soft, rich, lush, it did not take long. I barely managed to cover my penis with the washcloth.
Having not eaten on the long flight, I called room service and ordered a cheeseburger and fries. They asked me what kind of cheese, running down a list: American, cheddar, jack, blue, Swiss. “Just regular cheese,” I said. My first meal in America. I had expected my father and Uncle Joseph, his best friend and business partner, to be waiting for me. Uncle Joseph, who was unmarried, always traveled with my father. They had both wanted to try gambling in Las Vegas. It was only after this trip was planned that they decided I should meet them in Los Angeles, where I could look for a school to attend. Beirut was becoming more harrowing. I went out to my room’s balcony and smoked a cigarette, figuring my father would never come out there and catch me. I checked the view. I saw Beverly Hills and America, the parade of cars along an endless boulevard. Dusk. The clouds in the sky had grown more ominous, pewter colored. I was excited, about to see my first-ever summer storm. A neon sign on the building across the street said 78 degrees in bright red. In Celsius, 25.555 into infinity, I thought. I had forgotten that America used the English system. I unpacked my calculator , an HP 41cv, and programmed all the conversion formulas, metric to English and vice versa. The Hewlett-Packard’s Reverse Polish Notation made programming simpler. I waited. I wished I had brought my guitar, but I could not risk immigration officials figuring out I was not here for a short tourist visit. In any case, I hoped to buy a better guitar for my new life in America. I waited. 28
RABIH ALAMMEDINE 1KALDAS_pages:1KALDAS pages i-72.qxd 8/3/09 2:35 PM Page 28 TheLos Angeles Times of Wednesday, August 17, 1977, announced that Elvis was dead. Below the main headline, NEW FLOODS BATTER DESERT—THE RARE SUMMER STORMS CAUSING HAVOC, stood a smaller one, ELVIS PRESLEY DIES AT 42; LEGEND OF ROCK ‘N’ ROLL ERA. “Swivel-hipped singer,” the paper called him. He had a heart attack, fell...