“Actually, I switched to center forward this year,” Assef said. “You get to score more that way. We’re playing the Mekro-Rayan team next week. Should be a good match. They have some good players.”
Baba nodded. “You know, I played center forward too when I was young.”
“I’ll bet you still could if you wanted to,”Assef said. He favored Baba with a good-natured wink.
Baba returned the wink. “I see your father has taught you his world-famous flattering ways.” He elbowed Assef’s father, almost knocked the little fellow down. Mahmood’s laughter was about as convincing as Tanya’s smile, and suddenly I wondered if maybe, on some level, their son frightened them. I tried to fake a smile, but all I could manage was a feeble upturning of the corners of my mouth--my stomach was turning at the sight of my father bonding with Assef.
Assef shifted his eyes to me. “Wali and Kamal are here too. They wouldn’t miss your birthday for anything,” he said, laughter lurking just beneath the surface. I nodded silently.
“We’re thinking about playing a little game of volleyball tomorrow at my house,” Assef said. “Maybe you’ll join us. Bring Hassan if you want to.”
“That sounds fun,” Baba said, beaming. “What do you think, Amir?”
“I don’t really like volleyball,” I muttered. I saw the light wink out of Baba’s eyes and an uncomfortable silence followed.
“Sorry, Assefjan,” Baba said, shrugging. That stung, his apologizing for me.
“Nay, no harm done,” Assef said. “But you have an open invitation, Amir jan. Anyway, I heard you like to read so I brought you a book. One of my favorites.” He extended a wrapped birthday gift to me. “Happy birthday.”
He was dressed in a cotton shirt and blue slacks, a red silk tie and shiny black loafers. He smelled of cologne and his blond hair was neatly combed back. On the surface, he was the embodiment of every parent’s dream, a strong, tall, well-dressed and well-mannered boy with talent and striking looks, not to mention the wit to joke with an adult. But to me, his eyes betrayed him. When I looked into them, the facade faltered, revealed a glimpse of the madness hiding behind them.
“Aren’t you going to take it, Amir?” Baba was saying. “Huh?”
“Your present,” he said testily. “Assefjan is giving you a present.”
“Oh,” I said. I took the box from Assef and lowered my gaze. I wished I could be alone in my room, with my books, away from these people.
“Well?” Baba said.
“What?”