Judas

Last night your faded memory came to me

As in the wilderness spring comes quietly,

As, slowly, in the desert, moves the breeze,

As, to a sick man, without cause, comes peace.

- Faiz Ahmed Faiz, translated by Vikram Seth

Today

The road is a black snake in a sea of sand. It winds its way through the dunes, seeming to melt into water every few meters ahead. The air is heavy and wet. Seventy percent humidity expected today, the weather caster had cheerfully announced earlier that day.

The battered pick up cruises along the road. The man at the wheel has one hand placed lightly on the wheel, while the other rests on the window frame. The windows are down, despite the heat. He can feel his robe clinging, wet with sweat, to his back. Occasionally he turns his head to look out of the window, but mostly he just looks straight ahead. The radio belts out the latest Nancy Ajram hit, and he sings along softly.

There is nobody else on the road. It is not the main highway; that had been left behind several miles ago. The sky is azure, few clouds floating lazily above. The road becomes narrower, a strip of concrete and tar among the dunes.

The pick-up suddenly veers off the road, struggling a bit in the heavy sand, until it finally comes to a stop at the edge of a dune. Slamming the door behind him, the man gets off and walks to back of the pick up. He seems to be dragging something along the floor of the pickup. A pair of hands comes into sight. The pick up driver quickly divests one hand of the heavy gold watch on its wrist, putting it in one of his pockets. Pulling the body out, he lets it roll down the side of the dune. He looks up at the sky. A lone bird is a tiny speck in the distance. The birds and the sand will do the rest.

The pick up is back on the road; it is late afternoon now, and he wants to be back in the city before dusk.

One year earlier

The coffee shop wasn’t crowded, but I would have noticed him immediately even if it had been. It would have been hard not to- he was well over six feet, long legs encased in tattered jeans worn almost off the hip, and a bright blue t-shirt, that bore the rather incongruous legend : Elvis Lives. His hair was longer than was usual; the stubble indicated that his hand had not stretched toward a razor for some days. Perhaps he caught me staring, because off came the Guccis, and on came an insolent smile, a challenge in his dark coffee eyes. I quickly turned my attention to the sudoku game I’d been playing, but the numbers made no sense, and I could hear the hammering of my heart over the rock song blaring right overhead and the ruckus being made by his companions as they threw themselves into the sofas and chairs. They seemed to be animated about something, probably the soccer match. Who had won? I didn’t care at all for soccer, which was why I was sitting here in this coffee shop, while the rest of the world drove itself into frenzy over a bunch of men pushing a ball around. The match must have just gotten over. An argument seemed to have developed about which side should have won. The referee’s integrity was called into question, as was the ancestry of several players. Damn it, couldn’t they have found another place?

I threw them a dirty look. And caught him watching me. I could feel myself beginning to blush. This was awkward and embarrassing. At almost-twenty, I should be able to handle myself better. He was still looking at me.

I pretended to drink my coffee, picking up my cup…an empty cup, as it turned out. Shit. I could not bring myself to look back at him. I should just pay and leave. I scrambled in my wallet for enough cash to cover three cups of coffee.

Leaving so soon?

There he was, as cool as a cucumber in a salad.

Uh..yes, I’ve had enough caffeine to keep me awake for the night.

Then you should hang out with us. We don’t sleep.

I smiled.

Thanks, but..

Reza, he said, holding out his hand. He was a strange one. I could see a bit of a tattoo peeking from under one of his t-shirt sleeves, and was suddenly desperate to see the rest of it, slide my fingers over that arm and feel the pattern.

Rafiq, I replied.

And that was that.

We were as unlike each other as could be. He was reckless, a gambler, born to lead. I was shy, reserved. I was drawn to him like a moth to flame. He could make a story, a production out of everything. With him around, things happened. He was just one of those people. Reza would do anything. The riskier, the better. Most nights we would cruise the town at 2 am, all of us with enough alcohol in us to fill a vat. Sometimes we would pick up women. I never went with one though, always finding an excuse.

Three months after that first day, we found ourselves sitting out on the rocks, the water lapping at our feet, as the tide began to come in. The tips of our cigarettes glowed in the dark.

Ever been in love?

I looked sideways at him, and looked away.

Shrug.

Ever had a girl?

Sure.

Liar.

Why should I lie?

You’re scared.

Of what?

This.

And suddenly his lips were pressed against mine. For a moment, I did nothing. Then I closed my eyes.

When he pulled away, I was shaking.

You’re crazy. We’ll get arrested.

He laughed.

He placed my hand over my heart, beating madly.

Feel that pump? That’s the only way to live.

We made love there, on that beach.

Did our other friends know about us? I didn’t know. Nobody ever gave a sign of it. And Reza never touched me in public. And neither did I touch him, not even a slap on the back. I was afraid how much I would give away.

My sister almost found me out once. I’d doodled R heart R in the silliest way in a notebook, and she saw it. What’s this? she crowed, oooh, Rafiq has a girlfriend!! Ooh, who is it..look, Farahh, look, Rafiq has a girl…R..who could it be…oh I know..it’s Rehana, isn’t it?

I had no idea who Rehana was, but I was grateful for her name.

Give it back to me before I beat you up, I said, snatching back the book, and tearing the paper up.

I thought I wouldn’t be seeing Reza that night. There was a soccer match on, and the guys were planning to go to one of the sports bars and make a night of it. I’d excused myself saying I had an exam coming up. It was true, only the exam was ten days away. It was close on ten when the phone rang. Come on down, he said. I looked out of the window from my bedroom, and could see him waving up at me. There were making quite a row down there, I could see.

I have an exam to study for.

Stop being an asshole, and get down here.

So I went.

They were all drunk, as usual, and I was greeted with loud cheers.

Ah, we are blessed.

The Great Student himself.

I laughed as I got in the car.

Where are we headed, I asked?

Home. I was surprised, it was a bit early to be going home.

Got some good stuff.

Oh, yes, that explained it.

Later, when I could think about it, I couldn’t recall exactly how it all happened. Who was it that had started it? How did I find myself on the floor, with my pants down, blood flowing from my nose? Which one of my friends held me down while the others raped me? It’s all red and white, and noise in my head. But one thing I remember. Reza and the camera. Reza laughing, one hand on the sony camera that we’d bought together just the last week. That, that, I remember very clearly.

Everything else is a haze, and then I find myself watching the sun rise on that beach, a few metres away from where Reza and I had first kissed. At some point, it came to me that I should go home. It was early summer. Soon, the traffic would start to build up on this road. All those people, going about their daily lives as though nothing had changed.

When did it come to me?

When did the helpless rage I felt crystallize, white, into this packet that I’m playing with in my pocket?

When did the red heat in my blood settle into the coldness of this metal against my hip?

When did the steps I took on those endless, aimless nights of walking around the city direct my feet back up this staircase?

I don’t know.

The door opens. It’s been four months.

Rafiq, he says, my friend.

Today

The sun disappears in a conflagration of colours, and the waves lap gently along the shore. The night falls quickly. Someday, my sins will find me out. But tonight, there is the cooling sand beneath my feet, the soft splash of the sea, and, if I turn my head, there by the rocks, the silhouette of two lovers sharing their first, sweet kiss.