May 1990

The cab driver happened to be Iranian. We talked. I spoke whatever Farsi I remember. After I basically told him my life story he wouldn't let me pay the fare. But I insisted. It makes me feel like I'm doing it for dad.

Mom said I have changed. She didn't sound happy when she said this. I told her that I have just grown up. She said that I was being rude, not mature. I said that she wasn't there for two years and now had to deal with the changes. Jackie and I got into an argument. She said, "You know where the door is, you can use it." So, I did. I put on my shoes, got my bag from the bedroom, and stormed out. Mom-Suzie called out to me to come back. I walked to White Hen to get cigarettes and the bitch behind the counter asked me for I.D. I said I didn't have one. She said, "Sorry." I said, 'Fuck!' I was walking away when she asked how old I am. '18,' I lied. "You have to be 21," she informed me. 'No you don't! You only have to be 18 for cigarettes. That's bullshit!' I walked out and got cigarettes somewhere else.

Melisa is house-sitting and I went to keep her company. The house is beautiful. The owners are rich and Jewish, of course. They have thousands of CDs and a cute dog. We even found pot in the house. Melisa and I ate, talked, and walked the dog. When we came back we turned off all the lights and gave each other massages. Later when we were in bed watching TV we heard someone knocking on the back door. It was two of Melisa's friends. They had cocaine, which they snorted right in front of me. It freaked me out to see it. Of course I didn't do it.

Right when I walked in, wet from the pouring rain, I could tell my father was drunk. Those half-closed eyes, the red face, the slow gestures, the unnecessary words. Does he know how much I hate him when he's drunk? But, oh, how I love him when he's sober.

I love Madonna's new hit, Vogue. Anjel liked Madonna, too.

As I was walking to Melisa's, a car pulled up to ask for directions. I ended up having a whole conversation with the man in the car. He was black, older, and looked respectable. I'm not sure if he was crazy or just really nice. He asked me to sit in the car with him to talk. But I didn't. I sort of felt bad. But at least I was safe.

The graduation ceremony was depressing. Many friends are leaving- Lisa, Brandon, Jessie, and others.

Melisa helped me get ready for Tracy's prom and said I looked good in a tux. "Tall, dark, and handsome," she said with a grin. On the way to Tracy's house dad told me I don't appreciate anything. Tracy looked beautiful. We caught a beer buzz at some chick's house before going to the prom. Once at the prom Ray, who attends my high school, and I stepped into the alley to get high. At one point Ann and her boyfriend Stephen sat next to me and Stephen placed his hand on my knee, under the table. I was too high to know what this meant. Or, care. We came home early, around one-thirty.

He woke up around noon feeling sick and hung over. His headache wouldn't stop. So, he tried to put his imagination to work by sketching and writing. Then he cleaned the apartment and wondered why Tracy hadn't called all day…

He tried to get hold of Melisa, but she wasn't home. Instead, he talked to her mother, Shel, who invited him over for a family barbeque. She loved him and he really liked her for this. He wondered if he felt a special bond because she had Assyrian blood in her. He got ready while listening to music. He hugged his father and his father squeezed him back lovingly. Shel picked him up in her old Mercedes and they headed into Evanston. He felt uncomfortable but managed to make conversation. He missed his own mother but did not feel broken. It was too sunny and beautiful to be broken. They ran their errands and returned to start the grill. Melisa joined them for cheese, crackers, and red wine. Soon he and Melisa could feel the wine. He felt mature then, like he had the whole attitude down. He laughed to himself. They ate dinner, had more wine. Afterward, he and Melisa walked to Ed's apartment in Roger's Park. Ed's roommate read Emil's taro cards, which revealed he was compassionate, but that his father stood in the way. He didn't quite understand the father bit, but felt the reading was accurate. Ed pushed Emil for sex. At first Emil resisted, but gave in. They went into Ed's room.

He heard his father calling out in the morning, "Emeel! Emeel!" He was so tired he couldn't get up and out of bed. School was boring, as usual. He took the bus home. He loved his father but there was something uncomfortable between them. Drinking was the main reason why Emil sometimes disliked his father. And tonight he could sense that his father was upset about something, that he had been drinking again. Dinner was tense. There was the red face again, the half-closed eyes, drooping, tired. This always bugged Emil. It was so hard for him to accept. The father finally exploded when his older sister came over. It was like he was showing off for her. He mocked his son. To teach him a lesson? But Emil talked back as he always did. He always exploded right back! It was so hard for him to control himself. He picked up his books and ran into his room, the room he shared with his brother. The father followed, now shouting even louder. Emil shouted right back, was losing his voice. The drunken beast spouted insults, cruel words. He brought up the mother, what a whore she was, accusing her of fucking others while they were still married. The drunk had gone too far. The boy was outraged. He reached for the alarm clock next to his bed. Threw it. The father's cigarette fell to the floor. The clock shattered. Blood ran down the father's face. The boy was now satisfied somewhere inside, somewhere private, but when the aunt entered the room he knew that it was he who looked the guiltier. So, he ran up to her, held out his wrist to her, as if the scar alone contained his entire life story. She said that she knew, but her face had no expression. The boy's heart sank. He wasn't sad, he was wild. The father then cursed, calling his own son a fag in Assyrian. The boy turned to his father, cursed him in this dangerous game they played often but never got good at. He told his father he was 'ikhrih', shit! The father now attacked, threw punches but missed. Emil pushed, kicked. Now the brother stood in the middle. But it felt so good to yell and cuss. When he walked out of the apartment he walked away proudly. He tried to control his tears because there were people on the street. He lit a cigarette. Sat down in a small nearby park. He fought the tears. He tried to hate, but couldn't. He kept repeating to himself, 'Learn, love, live. Bullshit!' He couldn't believe his father had actually called him that word he feared the most. He thought about suicide or dropping out of school, but he knew this would mean he would lose. No. He would fight this time. He spent the night at Tracy's.

The alarm went off and he quickly put on his clothes and rushed to the door, trying not to make noise since Tracy's alcoholic father slept on the couch with the TV still on. Outside the air was crisp at six in the morning. He walked fast, smoking- cigarettes his last escape. He prayed that his father would have left for work already. He knew the next time he saw his aunt he would be embarrassed, but would keep his head up proudly. He stayed in his room that evening doing homework and smoking.

He was awakened by a call from Maggie since he didn't have an alarm clock anymore. At school he ran into trouble because he only had ten dollars of the twenty-five he was supposed to turn in from the Walk-a-thon. Sister Mary wouldn't let him take his exams and told him to come back with the money on make-up day. He wanted to cry, and wandered the halls thinking. He ran into Mr. Hores, a counselor. He explained to the man his dilemma and prayed while Mr. Hores checked his pockets for the fifteen dollars. And there it was! He thanked Mr. Hores and ran excitedly to the office. This time they informed him that he also owed eighteen dollars in candy money. He had hoped they would have forgotten about that. Gloria, the administrator with whom he'd volunteered on Phon-a-thon many times, was in the office. He begged her to help him. She gladly wrote out a check to help him and he was able to take his final exams.