Diamonds
Durant
As if Ricky and I had plague, his parents insisted that we take another car to the restaurant. I suspected foul play, but Ricky said it was natural for them; they liked their privacy. I told him that I was rather sure they were talking about us; he said he was absolutely sure. «Comment est-ce que tu le sais?» "How do you know?"
«Car j'ai écouté leur conversation.» "Because I listened to their conversations."
«Comment?» "How?"
«A la radio.» "On the radio."
«Quelle radio?» "What radio?" He leans over and switches on the radio. I hear my mother's voice speaking rapidly in French about how I'm absolutely enthralled with Ricky and how we're perfect together and asking very impertinent questions about why Ricky's parents are allowing him this homosexual tangent. Ricky quickly turns off the radio.
«Pourquoi as-tu énteindu la radio?» "Why did you turn off the radio?"
«Car c'est impoli epsionner.» "Because it's impolite to eves drop." He smiles and I laugh. The driver looks back and says, "Hey, you two! Hands where I can see them!" We laugh and put our hands in the air. "Okay, put your hands down, but no hanky-panky!" He's kidding of course, but it's quite amusing. He smiles as we pull out into traffic.
The drive to the restaurant is much too short. We arrive, are seated, and served drinks in a matter of five minutes. Now that's service. And even ordering doesn't take long. Of course, seeing as how it's a steak house, we only want steak. Maman is practically salivating and I discreetly lean over to tell her to close her mouth, a river is running from her mouth. She bops me on the arm and we all laugh. I'm not very discreet.
And neither are the Berlachaux parents. They ask me point blank what my intentions are with their son. «J'ai l'intention d'appendre l'Anglais à votre fils.» "I intened to teach your son English."
Mr. Berlachaux looks at his son, quite confused. «Mais, il parle l'Anglais. Nous l'avons fait un point de la fierté qu'il parlait l'Anglais très bien.» "But he speaks English. We made it a point of pride that he spoke English well."
«Donc, pourqoui est-il dans la classe d'ESL?» "Then why is he in the ESL class?"
«Il le parle. Je n'ai pas dit qu'il peux le lire or l'écrire. Ma femme et je, nous ne sommes pas des instituteurs. En plus, au Côte d'Ivoire, une personne n'a pas besoin de lire, juste de parler.»"He speaks it. I didn't say that he could read or write it. My wife and I aren't teachers. Besides, in the Ivory Coast, one doesn't need to read, only speak." The stark truth of this statement stops any arugement in my throat before it can begin. And my grilling keeps going. What clubs am I in? What kind of grades do I make? Do I speak other languages than French? And on and on and on! The restaurant was closing before we were ready to leave. «Si vous voudriez, vous pouvez revenir chez-nous pour le café ou le vin.» "If you'd like, you can come back to our home for coffee or wine." Grateful though Maman was, it was awfully late and we didn't want to impose. But before we could even think about hopping on the metro, they said their driver would take us home. Surely, these people had hearts of gold. Maman thanked them profusely before Ricky invited me to stay the night. I turned around to ask and Maman said, "You'll have to come back to the house to get clothes."
And all the car ride home, Maman told me that if I didn't keep it in my pants tonight, she was going to beat me. "I know you like this boy, Taima, but sex is for married people. Hormones do nothing but damage to relationships and you're much to young to be having sex. So behave." But I wasn't listening.
"Finally!
«Car j'ai écouté leur conversation.» "Because I listened to their conversations."
«Comment?» "How?"
«A la radio.» "On the radio."
«Quelle radio?» "What radio?" He leans over and switches on the radio. I hear my mother's voice speaking rapidly in French about how I'm absolutely enthralled with Ricky and how we're perfect together and asking very impertinent questions about why Ricky's parents are allowing him this homosexual tangent. Ricky quickly turns off the radio.
«Pourquoi as-tu énteindu la radio?» "Why did you turn off the radio?"
«Car c'est impoli epsionner.» "Because it's impolite to eves drop." He smiles and I laugh. The driver looks back and says, "Hey, you two! Hands where I can see them!" We laugh and put our hands in the air. "Okay, put your hands down, but no hanky-panky!" He's kidding of course, but it's quite amusing. He smiles as we pull out into traffic.
The drive to the restaurant is much too short. We arrive, are seated, and served drinks in a matter of five minutes. Now that's service. And even ordering doesn't take long. Of course, seeing as how it's a steak house, we only want steak. Maman is practically salivating and I discreetly lean over to tell her to close her mouth, a river is running from her mouth. She bops me on the arm and we all laugh. I'm not very discreet.
And neither are the Berlachaux parents. They ask me point blank what my intentions are with their son. «J'ai l'intention d'appendre l'Anglais à votre fils.» "I intened to teach your son English."
Mr. Berlachaux looks at his son, quite confused. «Mais, il parle l'Anglais. Nous l'avons fait un point de la fierté qu'il parlait l'Anglais très bien.» "But he speaks English. We made it a point of pride that he spoke English well."
«Donc, pourqoui est-il dans la classe d'ESL?» "Then why is he in the ESL class?"
«Il le parle. Je n'ai pas dit qu'il peux le lire or l'écrire. Ma femme et je, nous ne sommes pas des instituteurs. En plus, au Côte d'Ivoire, une personne n'a pas besoin de lire, juste de parler.»"He speaks it. I didn't say that he could read or write it. My wife and I aren't teachers. Besides, in the Ivory Coast, one doesn't need to read, only speak." The stark truth of this statement stops any arugement in my throat before it can begin. And my grilling keeps going. What clubs am I in? What kind of grades do I make? Do I speak other languages than French? And on and on and on! The restaurant was closing before we were ready to leave. «Si vous voudriez, vous pouvez revenir chez-nous pour le café ou le vin.» "If you'd like, you can come back to our home for coffee or wine." Grateful though Maman was, it was awfully late and we didn't want to impose. But before we could even think about hopping on the metro, they said their driver would take us home. Surely, these people had hearts of gold. Maman thanked them profusely before Ricky invited me to stay the night. I turned around to ask and Maman said, "You'll have to come back to the house to get clothes."
And all the car ride home, Maman told me that if I didn't keep it in my pants tonight, she was going to beat me. "I know you like this boy, Taima, but sex is for married people. Hormones do nothing but damage to relationships and you're much to young to be having sex. So behave." But I wasn't listening.
"Finally!