Darius the Great Is Not Okay(60)

“Darioush,” he said. “You remember what I told you? Your place was empty before?”

“Yeah.”

“Laleh can’t take your place. Why would you think that?”

“I don’t know,” I said.

“Sometimes I just get stuck thinking things.”

“Sad things?”

I nodded and played with the hem of my shirt.

I didn’t know how to explain it any better than that.

“It’s hard for you? Your depression?”

“Yeah. Sometimes.”

Sohrab nodded.

And then he put his arm across my shoulder and said, “But you know what? Laleh is not my best friend, Darioush. You are.”

My ears burned.

I had never been someone’s best friend before.

Sohrab swayed me back and forth.

“Don’t be sad, Darioush.”

“I’ll try,” I said.

I was Sohrab’s best friend.

I almost smiled.

Almost.

I didn’t have to say it out loud.

Sohrab had to know he was my best friend too.



* * *





Star Trek Time was becoming a regular thing again, now that our nights weren’t so busy. Now that our days had slowed down.

Now that being in Yazd didn’t feel so different from being at home.

It had become a regular thing, except that Laleh was there.

And I wasn’t.

Despite what Sohrab said, it was hard not to think about her taking my place when she and Dad snuggled up on the living room couch to watch “Captain’s Holiday,” which is one of the best episodes of The Next Generation’s third season. It’s about The Picard racing against time-traveling aliens to solve an ancient mystery.

Even though I hate time travel, I love that episode.

It’s terrific.

It’s also notorious for Captain Picard’s vacation attire: extremely short silver swim trunks that only a Frenchman could pull off.

Laleh found them ridiculous.

“What is he wearing?” she asked, so loud that I could hear her from the kitchen, where I sat drinking tea and reading The Lord of the Rings.

Dad shushed Laleh. “Captain’s Holiday” was one of his favorite episodes too.

I almost went and joined them.

Almost.

But then Laleh started talking again, making fun of the special effects.

So I drank my tea and I read my book, and I did my best to ignore the sound of Dad and Laleh laughing.



* * *





“Darius?”

I looked up from my book. The ending credits music was playing in the living room.

“Yeah?”

“You okay?”

“Yeah.”

“Want me to grab your medicine?”

“Sure. Thanks.”

I poured a glass of water while Dad pulled down our bottles. He handed me mine and then shook out his own pills.

“Better get to bed soon. Early start tomorrow.”

“Okay.”

Dad pulled my head down to kiss me on my forehead. He hadn’t shaved since we arrived in Iran, no doubt in an attempt to cultivate a rugged Iranian five-thirty shadow, and his chin scratched against the bridge of my nose.

“Love you, Darius.”

Dad held my face for a moment and looked in my eyes.

I didn’t know what he wanted. What he expected from me.

But at least he said it.

“Love you, Dad.”





FATHER ISSUES



The next morning, Mamou invited Sohrab and his mom over for breakfast. Laleh took the opportunity to educate Sohrab about Star Trek: The Next Generation, now that she was a self-proclaimed expert.

While Laleh distracted Sohrab, I poured a glass of water and took my medicine.

I don’t know why I didn’t want him to see it. He had seen my foreskin, after all. And he knew all about my depression anyway.

But I still hated that he was seeing me have to take pills.

Somehow it felt more intimate than just being naked in front of each other.

That’s normal.

Right?

“Finish your breakfast, Laleh-jan,” Mamou said. “Let Sohrab eat. We have to go.”

We were going to see Dowlatabad.

Dowlatabad is one of the most common place-names in Iran. It’s like Springfield back in the United States: There is one in every province.

The one in Yazd was a garden, not a separate city (at least, not as far as I could tell), and it was famous for its landscaping and its mansion and its giant baad gir.

The adults walked ahead, with Laleh riding on Dad’s shoulders, while Sohrab and I walked behind in companionable silence.

That was one of the things I liked best about Sohrab: We didn’t have to talk to enjoy each other’s company. We just walked and enjoyed the Yazd morning. Sometimes we would catch each other’s eye and smile or squint or even chuckle.

The sun was shining, but the air was still shaking off the night’s chill. I really should have worn a hoodie, but instead I had on a long-sleeved shirt with my Team Melli jersey over it.

I really loved that jersey.

I felt very Persian in it.

Birds whistled above us.