The General and the Elephant Clock of Al-Jazari

by Sarah Black

  “You know what happened to Hannibal in the end?”

  “You mean when he died?”

  “Yeah. That was the music when the troops were closing in. He was betrayed to the Romans, and he killed himself before they could take him. Poison.”

  “Brutal,” Daniel said again. “But beautiful.”

  “It was a good death,” Eli said, and Daniel nodded his agreement.

  “Hannibal was the most brilliant military strategist,” John said. “A wild and original thinker.”

  “That’s what you say about Kim,” Abdullah said, and John closed his eyes. “He’s got a wild and original mind.”

  “Yes. Yes, he does.”

  Sam had his chin in his fist. He’d been staring at the wall after eating two platefuls of Tunisian food. “I think it looks good short,” he said. He looked around, realized the entire table was staring at him. “Jen’s hair,” he said. “It looks good.” Gabriel bit down on his lip, put a strong hand on Sam’s shoulder for comfort and solidarity.

  Back upstairs in the suite the boys draped themselves over the hated couch. Abdullah was in the middle, his arms spread along the top and his head back, eyes closed. Daniel was on the end, sitting sideways, his head on a bolster and his bare feet on Abdullah’s thigh. Eli was upside down, his head on the leather polka dot of an ottoman and his feet propped up along the back. Three black-headed boys, sitting on a couch, and they looked like a piece of Middle-Eastern performance art. “I can’t believe Kim isn’t here with his camera,” John said. “I’d take a picture myself, but I don’t even know how to turn that thing on.”

  He looked at the book Eli was reading. It was Volume One of an English translation of Ibn Battuta’s Rihla. He had a copy of a book on his lap called The Adventures of Ibn Battuta by Ross Dunn. “Kim brought these with him,” Eli said. “This is so wild. Can you believe this guy?”

  “In that YouTube video about the Elephant Clock they used the words from the Rihla to narrate the pictures,” John said.

  “That’s what made me want to read about him.”

  Daniel was scrolling down through photos of his pretty Jemma on his phone. “Hannibal’s always like this. Has been since Ranger training. He gets some ancient bee in his bonnet, and next thing you know, he’s sleeping with twelve dusty paperbacks.”

  John sat down next to Eli, and the boy put the book down on his chest. “What are you planning to do when we get home?”

  “I’m going back to work,” Daniel said. “I got diapers to buy. But I’m gonna take a couple of weeks off, go see my babies.”

  Eli looked at him, then back at John. John watched his face, the indecision. “Have you guys been together since Ranger school?”

  “Since Basic,” Daniel said. “Hannibal only came out to Algeria because he didn’t want me to go alone. I know you don’t want to go back, dickhead. You can tell me. I’m not gonna freak.”

  “That wasn’t the only reason I came.”

  “I know. But just so you know, I think you need to make an alternate plan.”

  “Yeah?” Eli was frowning now. “Why’s that?”

  John put his hand on the book sitting on the boy’s chest. “Have you thought about school? What would you study if you could go back to school?”

  Eli’s face shaded bright red. “Okay, this is gonna sound wild, but Islam is really so cool, you know? Real Islam, I mean, not the local jihad bullshit. The history of the Islamic world. The travelers, the crazy inventors, the architects and artists and shit. Holy shit, camel caravans through the Sahara! Can you believe that? That’s what I want to study.” They all stared at him, speechless, and he continued. “And I want to learn Arabic.”

  John had a glimpse just for a moment, young Hannibal Green in his Boy Scout uniform, his nose buried in an old copy of Lands and Peoples. “You want to come back with us? I live right next to the university. UNM in Albuquerque.” He watched Eli’s grin light up the room like the sun, and then he remembered Gabriel whispering in his ear, when John had just told Abdullah he could move in with them, that he was going to build a barracks in the back yard if John offered a berth to one more lost boy. He looked around the room.

  Gabriel walked over to the couch, slid his warm hand down the back of John’s neck and gave it a gentle squeeze. “Come back to Albuquerque with us, Eli. General Mitchel will hound you into the grave if you don’t get your degree.”

  Daniel looked up at them. “Did he make you go to law school?”

  “No,” Gabriel said. “That was my mother and my wife. The general made me get my undergraduate degree in history. I just wanted to know what he was talking about, because half the time I couldn’t keep up, you know? And I couldn’t find a college degree in badass helicopter flying.”

  Eli and Daniel looked up at this. Daniel said, “You have a wife?”

  Gabriel rubbed his chin. “I had a wife. We’re getting a divorce.”

  “I thought you and General Mitchel have been together like forever.”

  “We have been. Not always in the light, though. It used to be you couldn’t be in the army and be gay. We had to hide it.”

  “Because of DADT?”

  Gabriel shook his head. “It used to be illegal. Like against the law, and we would have been arrested and court martialed and thrown into jail. DADT was supposed to be us being free to be ourselves. But it turned into a different kind of jail.”

  Eli fell back down on the couch. “That is as stupid as getting thrown in jail for holding a picture of the elephant clock.”

  Daniel wasn’t ready to let it go, though. “So you got married? How come?”

  Gabriel looked at John a moment, his face full of regret. “I wanted a family, kids. I wanted to have a real life. I thought that’s what I had to do, what I was supposed to do. Now I think I was just impatient. But I have the most amazing kids in the world.”

  “So your wife, is she pissed off?”

  Gabriel sighed, his hands on his hips. “Yes. Very pissed off. And my kids are mad at me and confused at the whole thing. But it’s more than that. We’re all a little heartbroken, you know? That we’re not going to be a family anymore. Because I loved being the daddy. I loved taking care of everybody. And they all want to know why that isn’t good enough. Why loving them, taking care of them, wasn’t enough. But it got so I was walking into the house and looking around for a man who was living across town, and I just couldn’t stand it anymore, the loneliness, trying to live without him.”

  “Wow. That’s intense. What are you gonna do?”

  Gabriel looked at Daniel, then he looked at John and smiled, his dark eyes wild and beautiful and deep as forever. “There comes a time, you have to stop running, stop pretending, and just be the man you were meant to be. It doesn’t matter what it costs, because to not be that man, that’ll cost you your soul. What am I going to do? I’m going to love him until the stars fall out of the sky.”

  Chapter 23

  JEN pushed into the suite an hour later, looking dusty and frail. She dumped three old backpacks and a satchel on the table. “This is what we’ve got,” she said. “We’re gonna have to make do.”

  Abdullah was up off the couch. “Where’s Kim?”

  She rubbed across her skull. “He’s next door, throwing up. They made us a couple of blocks from the hotel. Bahktar and his men. We had to run for it.”

  Abdullah made for the door. John put a hand on Jen’s arm. “Are you okay?” Her eyes looked enormous in her face.

  “Yeah, I’m good. Fine. It scared us, is all.”

  “Did you get to wipe the memory on the netbook?”

  She nodded. “Youssef said thanks for the computer gear, especially the Kindle for his son. He’s going to send everybody away. They’ve got some relatives down south, one of Amira’s sisters. Just till things quiet down.”

  “You look beat. We saved some supper for you.”

  She nodded, sat at the table. Eli came over, passed the backpacks to Daniel. “You okay, baby girl?”<
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  John put a plate with some vegetables and couscous in the microwave to heat up. He was going to give Abdullah about another ten seconds head start, then he was going next door to see his baby.

  “We got careless. We thought we were home free, you know? Everything had gone so well, and we let up our guard there at the end.”

  “What did you do?”

  John brought her the plate of food.

  “We were talking. In English. They were parked in the entrance to an alley behind the coffee shop, so we walked right by them before we saw them. When he heard us, they climbed in their car and started after us. We cut through the alleys, but Bahktar nearly caught us. It was a little scary.”

  John went next door, knocked quietly, and pushed the door open. He could hear the shower running, and he looked in the bathroom door. Kim was in the shower, and Abdullah was sitting on the sink, holding a towel. They stopped talking when he stuck his head in. “Kim? You okay?”

  “I’m fine, Uncle John. Nothing to worry about.”

  “You want to stick you head out so I can see your smiling face?”

  “Not right now, okay? Give me ten, Uncle J?”

  “Okay, kiddo. Come find me when you want to talk.”

  Eli and Daniel didn’t have anything to carry out of Tunisia. Their luggage was gone, and trying to retrieve it was low on John’s list of essential tasks. They each had a passport. Jen needed one of the backpacks to carry her tablet and a couple of netbooks she didn’t want to leave, and Sam was going to share that backpack to put his skivvies and a change of socks. Eli had the books, the two about Ibn Battuta Kim had brought, and asked John if he could fit them in one of the bags.

  “I think so,” he said. “Always room for books. Plus books are good for cushioning the computers.” One of the backpacks was going to Kim and Abdullah, and one for his and Gabriel’s computers. He would have to wear the new suit, and the beautiful yellow shirt. A brand new pair of John Varvatos Derbys was going to be left to Mr. Aziz’s staff. John forced himself to not add up the cost of the unworn and expensive new clothing he was losing on this trip.

  “He didn’t eat much,” Gabriel said. “I stood over him until he had a few bites, but he wasn’t feeling up to it, John.”

  “Where is he now?”

  “Abdullah wrapped him up in a bedspread, and they’re laying down in one of the bedrooms, nose to nose, like a human burrito, talking things over. Kim might be rethinking if he wants to go back to being a photographer and leave all this world-saving to you.”

  “Is he going to be ready for tomorrow?”

  “I think so. Eli said they’ve finished what they can get done. So tomorrow we transport everything to the museum, we go do our happy dance, and then we slide like fog right out of Tunis.”

  “Have we forgotten anything?”

  “Not that I can think of. We’ll know about two seconds before the shit hits the fan.”

  JOHN opened his eyes when the chime on Gabriel’s watch told them it was time to call their boys. Gabriel groaned a little, then rolled over until he was splayed on top of John, all sleepy warm skin and long legs and whiskers. John wrapped him up, wrapped his legs around Gabriel’s hips. “I’ve got you. Now you’re mine.”

  “Better or worse,” Gabriel agreed. “Hi, honey.” He reached down, nuzzled into John’s neck a bit, taking his time working his way up to the angle of the jaw.

  “How’s my baby? Ready to rock and roll?”

  “Affirmative.” Gabriel moved across his chin until John felt his sweet mouth, and he opened to the unspoken demand, to the heat and urgency in his hands. He’d always opened to Gabriel, his mouth and his mind, his body and his heart. This was where he felt safe and whole. This was home, in Gabriel’s arms, anywhere in the world.

  They made love like every slow, sweet minute was drenched in honey, sticky heat and magnolia blossoms, and when they finished, Gabriel rolled over, pulled John up on top of him. In their bedroom at home, they had a ceiling fan. Gabriel had noticed that John liked to feel the fan on his skin after they’d made love, liked to let the breeze dry the sweat on his back. So he rolled John over, held him in his arms, kissed him as sweetly as the first time, like something in the taste of John’s skin was his milk and honey. And every time, John told himself to remember, to feel every sensation, every moment, because he knew what it was like to watch Gabriel walk away.

  Gabriel sighed, his big hands moving down John’s back. “I guess I better call my boy.”

  “You don’t sound too excited about that, my friend.”

  “I think you just sucked every bit of excitement out of me.”

  John laughed, rolled off of him. “Oh, surely not?”

  Gabriel sat up on the side of the bed and picked up his cell phone from the bedside table. He punched in the numbers Jen had written down for him, the various country codes that would allow a call to America.

  “Hey, buddy! How’s life in the wild west?”

  John could hear Juan’s excited voice through the phone, sounding like a little kid again, something about a horse named Jenny and a red saddle blanket. Gabriel climbed off the bed, went to the window and pulled back the curtain. The moon painted a bit of silver in the deep blue sky. “What? What do you mean?” John walked over to him when he heard the alarm in his voice. “No, Juan. I’m fine, buddy. We’re not in any trouble.” He listened again, then, “You did? Listen, hang on one second, okay? John, he said he saw something on YouTube, a video.”

  “The one where I got punched in the gut?”

  Gabriel shook his head. “No, he said this one was me and I was choking the guy who punched you out.”

  “Oh, shit.”

  John went for his tablet, pulled up YouTube and started scrolling. Gabriel was still talking to Juan. “Oh, you think it was badass? Well, of course I’m going to defend anybody…. You or your mom or Martie. Yes, of course I would. But it doesn’t seem likely, does it?”

  John could see the video now. That cabbie must have taken it when Gabriel got out of the taxi and reached for Ali Bahktar’s throat. It was linked to the video of him getting punched out, and, oh, good! Even a copy of the cover of Out. The strident voice in Arabic painted a picture of a gay American conspiracy of violence against the stalwart Salafist defenders of Islamic virtue. Fucking hell.

  Gabriel sighed, handed him the phone. “He wants to talk to you.”

  “General Mitchel?”

  “Hi, Juan. How are you enjoying Cheyenne?”

  “Oh, man, it’s the best. I mean that literally, the best time of my life. Listen, are you okay? I saw you getting beat up. You looked like you were going to puke or something.”

  “I nearly did. But I’m fine.”

  “Is my dad okay? He looked really mad. But he was protecting you, right? He was protecting you from the guy who beat you up.”

  “Correct.”

  “Because he loves you, right?”

  “Yes, he does. And I love him, too. But he would never do anything to keep from coming home to you and your sister, Juan, or your mom. Don’t worry about that.”

  “Oh, I know. It’s just, I’ve never seen him mad like that. It was like he was scared and mad at the same time. And Mr. Dial, he said love is strange and it takes you in ways you aren’t expecting. And you don’t always have a say in it. But it’s always a blessing to have love in your life.” He sighed, then, “I fell in love, a couple of months ago. My mother won’t put up with it, though. She’s still treating me like I’m a little kid.”

  “Parents are like that.”

  “That’s what Mr. Dial said. That mothers are like grizzly bears when it comes to their cubs, and best to just stay out of their way. Cha Cha won’t even answer my calls. But Mr. Dial said best to just play it cool.”

  John wondered what would happen if he pulled Cody Dial into a bear hug and kissed him right on the lips. “I think he’s right, Juan. I’ll bring your dad home, I promise.”

  John gave the phone back to Gabr
iel and listened to him tell Juan how much he loved him, how proud he was of his son. When he hung up, he stayed by the window, staring at the moon. “Well, I’m not the coolest dad in the world anymore.”

  “Nobody can beat the famous bull rider Cody Dial, world champion 1992 to 1998, for coolness. The man has a beautiful wife and a ranch in Cheyenne, for God’s sake, and a horse named Jenny. Can we focus here?”

  “On what?” John stared at him. “John, it’s bullshit. Nobody’s going to pay attention to that.”

  “I agree, it’s bullshit. But I also think it’s dangerous, Gabriel. Things are more volatile than we realize.”

  Gabriel sat down next to him on the bed. “Okay. But on the positive side of the equation, Juan falling in love with some trashy Conchita had absolutely nothing to do with you or me or our coming out. This was the sort of fuck-up we could reasonably expect from any kid at fifteen. Martha actually told me she was sorry for saying I was a shitty father and always gone when they needed me most.”

  “She said that?”

  “Yeah. First time she’d ever said anything like that to my face. I knew she didn’t mean it. She said it, then she stares at me and her eyes fill up and I start to cry and then she starts to cry. It’s crap getting divorced, John. I keep wondering if I’m fucking up, if I’m ruining everything, them, you and me. How much is this going to cost us? I feel like it’ll be worth it in the end, but right now I’m just running as fast as I can, and I’m scared. About the endgame. About the kids and Martha and you and me.”

  “I’ve noticed. I wasn’t sure what I could do to help.”

  Gabriel reached out for him, buried his face in John’s hair. “You’re doing it. Just staying calm. Staying the course. A peaceful harbor where I can come to sleep. A place where we can make love like we have all the time in the world, not five stolen minutes. I’m really starting to like taking my time, John.”

  “Yeah, I’ve noticed that too. And I like it a lot.”

  “Oh, you want to hear something? Then she said screw it, she was going to law school herself! I mean, what the fuck is that about?”