Tunisia's climate is typically Mediterranean. The seasons are temperate and pleasant. In the southern part of the country, the climate is different. There, the topography is predominantly desert. One of the few places where it snows in Africa is Ain Draham, a town built by French colonists in the mountains of northern Tunisia. When they arrived there, the snow had already melted for the season.

Saul was traveling with Brenda, a fellow student from the Institute for International Peace and Cooperation. As soon as they stepped off the bus, they started looking for a place to spend the night. Wherever they traveled in Tunisia, that was their first order of business — meet a local and get invited to stay for dinner and, with any luck, the entire night. This is how they got by on just a few dollars a day. They didn't necessarily like it, but that was the Institute's credo: The world is our classroom. Its people, our teachers.

They arrived in Ain Draham in the afternoon on a sunny day in March. Everywhere, the trees were filled with a cacophony of flocking birds. They wandered around the town for nearly three hours, intentionally looking lost, hoping to win somebody's sympathy. When they'd had enough, they cupped their hands in a stream that twisted through Ain Draham, splashing their faces with the cool, clear water. Brenda wondered if the stream flowed from a spring somewhere, high up, in the snow-peaked mountains. She kicked off her boots and soaked her blistered feet in the water.

A group of young boys were playing soccer in a field nearby. The boys stared with blank faces as Saul and Brenda approached. They didn't understand Brenda when she attempted to say hello in Arabic. They were giggling at her. Brenda might as well have been from another planet. Saul asked, "Est-ce que vous parlez francais," and a boy with large, pointed ears answered, "Oui, monsieur."

Brenda called him the elf boy; she thought he was adorable. In French, Saul asked the boy if he knew anywhere where they could spend the night. Asking this question, in Tunisia, in a Muslim country, was pretty much like asking for the boy's family's hospitality. The boy said something warbled in French. It was something about his older brother. He shouted back to Saul, "Attendez," as he ran off through a field, where sheep were grazing on the lush, new grass.

Brenda doubted the kid would return, but conceded they had few other options. She was ready to bite the bullet and rent a room with a hot shower, forget the Institute, forget their $8/day budget. It was beginning to be dusk. Another boy gestured toward the soccer ball and grabbed Saul by the wrist. Brenda complained about the blisters on her feet. She had an aching back. In spite of her protests, which were entirely in English, she, too, was dragged off to play soccer with the boys.

When the elf boy finally returned with his brother, Brenda asked, "What took you so long?" She was annoyed, but agreed with Saul that the boy's brother was probably worth the wait. Ali, the boy's brother, was older — 18 or 19. He was attractive and charming. He would likely invite them to stay with his family. Ali said, "Enchantee," when he shook Saul's hand, then he touched his hand to his heart. Ali was looking Brenda over like she was for sale. He wanted to know if she was Saul's wife.

Ali spoke French well and explained that the boy, Munir, was not actually his brother, but his sister's child. He welcomed Saul and Brenda to Ain Draham like he was the town's enthusiastic mayor. He guessed they were Germans. Saul explained that he was from Canada and Brenda was American. Ali was checking Brenda out, obviously, from head to foot. He was impressed that she was from the United States. He asked Saul if she was from New York City. Chicago?

When they were on their way to Ali's family's place, Saul and Brenda fell behind a few paces. Ali was leading them down a muddy road on the outskirts of town. Brenda wasn't keen about going, and she told Saul that, under no circumstances, would she be left alone with him. Saul could understand her caution. In spite of Ali's spectacular ass and charm, there was something creepy about him. His eyes shifted too often, or something. Brenda said it was the thin moustache — it made him look sinister. Besides, she didn't appreciate being looked over like a show dog.

At Ali's place, his mother and two sisters welcomed them as royalty. Immediately, they were asking if Saul and Brenda were hungry. His mother, who was warm and effusive, didn't hesitate to step outside and butcher one of the cackling chickens that roamed freely around their tiny, whitewashed house. The two sisters promptly swept the floor and stoked the wood stove. Ali introduced them, but neither Brenda nor Saul could make out their names, so they just smiled and said, "Hello. Bonjour."

One sister, the one who was Munir's mother, was dour with patches of discolored skin on her face. She seemed obliged to welcome them. The other sister was, like the mother, attractive and friendly. She was bashful, giggling softly every time Saul looked at her. She kept touching Brenda's Irish, orange hair, stroking it like a hurt kitten, which Brenda seemed to enjoy. Since Ali's mother only spoke Arabic, Saul and Brenda smiled and nodded when she asked them, through Ali, if they were hungry yet.

When the meal was finally ready, after the hours of careful preparation, Brenda wouldn't eat the couscous because it had chicken in it. She was a strict vegetarian. Ali's mother and sisters were absolutely baffled. They squinted at Brenda and spoke quickly amongst themselves in Arabic. The dour sister was smirking as she divided Brenda's portion of the couscous between Munir's and Ali's plates.

Over dinner, Ali's eyes were preoccupied with Brenda's breasts. At the Institute, Brenda's thesis was "The Role of Women in Tunisian Development". She had questions about the lives of Ali's mother and sisters. Saul translated all of them into French for Ali, who then translated them into Arabic for his mother and sisters. English was Brenda's first and only language. Ali's mother laughed at several of Brenda's questions and shook her head at Saul, the man, like he was responsible for Brenda's ideas. Ali was staring at Brenda's breasts when she leaned over to Saul and muttered, "We should have said we were married."

Ali's family's house consisted of two rooms. In this room, the family cooked and ate their meals. It contained a wood stove, one table and three mismatched, wooden chairs. The other room was for sleeping. Outside was the outhouse. When it came to sleeping arrangements, Ali's mother insisted that Brenda and Saul share the only bed in the house, which was in the other room behind a closed door.

Out of politeness, Brenda refused. She asked Saul to explain to Ali that they didn't want to inconvenience his family and that they would sleep on the floor in their sleeping bags. Ali's mother wouldn't have it. The floor was cement. She was already in the other room, preparing the bed.

Saul and Brenda were exhausted from the long bus ride from Bizerte, not to mention the hours spent trudging around Ain Draham with their over-packed backpacks, hoping for some hospitality. When they were alone in the other room and the door was shut, they were both grateful. Saul stripped down to his underwear and fell into the lumpy bed beside Brenda, exchanging a few inconsequential words about the day. A lamp was burning in the room, casting an orange glow on the bare, cracked walls.

Saul was asleep, dreaming that he and Brenda were walking through the Sahara with a flock of immaculate, white sheep, delivering them for slaughter. When he heard the knock on the door, his first thought was that Ali's mother had forgotten something, a pillow or a blanket, and needed to get back into the room. Saul sat up in the bed and listened for another knock. He could hear bells tinkling in the wind outside. Brenda was sound asleep on her back, peaceful as a corpse.

As Saul got out of bed, Ali stepped into the room and shut the creaking door behind him. Saul was half-asleep, standing in his briefs with a lingering hard-on. It wasn't the mother. It was Ali. Saul rearranged his crotch, trying to make his erection less obvious.

Ali didn't say anything. He looked at Brenda in the bed and gestured for Saul to have a seat on the sheepskin rug. What time was it anyhow? Any moment, Saul expected Ali to ask him if he could have his way with Brenda, if he could have Saul's permission and blessing. In Ali's eyes, Saul held the power to make such decisions.

They whispered back and forth as they sat next to each other on the sheepskin rug, which smelled, still, like a sheep. Ali wanted to leave Tunisia. There were no jobs here. He asked Saul if he would be able to find a job in the United States. Ali was proud to show he knew American music — Michael Jackson and Madonna — singing to Saul in a whisper, "Beat it… Beat it…"

Ali was wearing a pair of jeans but no shirt. His torso was lean with a thick trail of black hair leading into his pants. Maybe Ali was able to read Saul's mind because, out of nowhere, just like that, the last thing in the world Saul was expecting, Ali leaned over and kissed him on the lips.

Ali got up and blew out the lantern, which was on a plastic crate beside the bed. Saul thought he must still be asleep, dreaming. Brenda was asleep. She was snoring. In the dark, Saul could feel Ali sit back down on the rug. He could smell his body.

Ali's hand reached through the darkness and pulled Saul toward him. Ali's tongue was eager and aggressive. His sweaty hands were exploring Saul's body, tentatively, returning again to his nipples, twisting them until they were on fire. Through his briefs, Ali rubbed Saul's erection until it leaked through the cotton. Saul stopped him before he exploded. Brenda was stirring in the bed. Eventually, she was still again. She was snoring. Saul reached down and unzipped Ali's pants. His cock felt like a piece of thick rubber. Quietly, Saul slapped it around in the dark.

Ali was moaning, his hips slithering around on the sheepskin rug as Saul worshipped his cock. Saul stopped sucking to whisper in Ali's ear, "Tranquil… Mon amie dort." After a minute, Ali pushed him away and stood up. Saul couldn't see what Ali was doing in the dark, but he could hear him breathing. Maybe he had come to his senses and was leaving the room. Then Ali's crotch — Saul could smell it near his face — was ready for more.

Saul massaged Ali's cock with his lips. He took it down to the bush. He ran his nose through the dense, musky hair. The boy was beautiful. As Ali got closer and closer, his heavy balls were retreating into his pelvis, his cock swelling even thicker. The throb of an orgasm was pulsing forward in his body. Ali shuddered and groaned as he held Saul's head with both hands, and the salty wad filled his mouth.

In the dark, Brenda's voice came like a spirit's: "If you don't mind," she said.

In the silence that followed, they lay absolutely still, listening to each other in the dark. Ali froze too. His breathing was filling the silence in the room. Brenda sighed loudly and flipped herself over in the creaky bed.

Finally, Brenda was asleep again, snoring. Ali kissed Saul on the lips, without making a sound, and slipped away through the dark, the door creaking as he left the room.

The next morning, Saul and Brenda were sitting on a bench outside the little, whitewashed house, speculating on what might be causing the dour sister's skin condition. Brenda decided it was likely skin cancer. She blamed the long hours that Ali's sister probably had to toil, outdoors, in the blistering sun. After a while, Brenda stopped talking and stared up at the snow-peaked mountains. "Why did we come here anyhow?" she said. They had chosen Ain Draham with the hope of seeing snow in Africa. "After what happened last night," Brenda continued, "I just want to get back to St. Louis."

Up to that point, they had managed to avoid the whole subject of Saul's rendezvous with Ali. Not only did Brenda admit that she was upset, now she wasn't speaking to Saul. She didn't want to talk about what had happened the night before. It was disgusting. Beyond that, she would only say that at least it wasn't Ali and his sister, which was her first thought when she woke up to the slurping sounds of sex in the dark.

Normally, a freight train couldn't waken Brenda. Saul apologized, but his apology seemed irrelevant. After breakfast, which was sweet cornbread, freshly baked by Ali's mother, Ali offered to take them to a place at the foot of the mountain where they might still find snow. Ali was behaving as though nothing at all had happened. He was no longer lusting after Brenda, but that was the only change. Saul asked her if she was interested in going on the hike, but Brenda still wasn't speaking to him, especially now that he was considering going off with Ali to look for snow.

As a student of the Institute, Saul was curious about Ali's sexual orientation. While in North Africa, he had hoped to gain insights about the experience of being gay in a Muslim country. As it turned out, Ali was teaching him a lot. Saul was sorry about Brenda, but he couldn't refuse the possibility of another cross-cultural encounter with Ali. The world is our classroom. Its people, our teachers. When Brenda was playing with Munir and the family's skinny, three-legged mutt, Ali and Saul set off down the muddy road to look for snow.

Ali was talking without looking at Saul as they twisted their way through the fresh, green fields on the outskirts of Ain Draham. In fact, he was hardly talking at all. His face was pinched. He seemed anxious or angry. It was hard to tell. Was he thinking about what had happened the night before? Saul was expecting a compelling story of prejudice and oppression — one that he could use in his final report for the Institute — when he finally mustered the nerve to ask Ali. "Est-ce que tu es gai?"

Ali didn't understand exactly, but he knew what Saul was asking. "Non, je ne suis pas P.D." Ali said emphatically. "Pas P.D. Pas de tout." P.D. stood for pedophile, Ali explained. Saul had never heard the term. Apparently, it was common in France. Ali said the two letters with clear, emphatic disdain. Ali was certain that no P.D.s lived in Tunisia. They were all in France.

When they got to the edge of town, where the green fields merged with an old pine forest, Ali led Saul up a steep trail through a grove of trees. The snow-peaked mountains were looming overhead. Saul might not have followed Ali up that trail, slipped on his ass in the mud, believing he might see snow in Africa, if it weren't for the fact that he needed another taste of Ali's body. If there were no snow, the taste of Ali on his tongue would be souvenir enough.

When they were among the trees, where they could not be spotted, they stopped walking and looked at each other. There was no snow at their feet. Ali lit a cigarette, which was one of three in his pocket. He was scowling, but it looked forced, like a bad actor's interpretation of anger. Saul wondered if he was now a P.D. in Ali's eyes. He reached over and unzipped Ali's fly.

When Ali's orgasm was finished and Saul's tongue was thick with the flavours of his crotch and ass, Ali zipped up his fly and looked at the snow-covered mountain. Saul was wiping a splash of cum off his jacket with some leaves. When it was gone, he looked at his watch. Brenda was waiting for him, probably fretting; they were catching the bus in less than an hour. As he started back down the trail, Ali stepped in front of him, blocking the way. Ali was scowling again. He wanted something. He wanted Saul's watch.

Brenda and Saul were due back in Tunis that evening to meet up with their fellow students from the Institute. When their backpacks were packed, Ali's mother insisted that he accompany Saul and Brenda to the bus depot at the centre of town. She ordered him to carry Brenda's huge, red backpack, and Brenda didn't bother protesting. As they were leaving the little house, Brenda asked Ali's mother and sisters to pose for a photo. Munir jumped in and so did their mutt, whose missing leg remained a mystery.

Brenda was speaking to Saul just enough to arrange the details of their departure. When she was finished with the other photos, she asked if he wanted a photo of Ali. "Or better yet — Why don't I take one of the two of you together," she suggested. Brenda was unforgiving. She gestured for Ali to stand beside Saul at the front of the family's house. When he was in place, his mother instructed Ali to smile, and Brenda's camera flashed. Brenda promised to send Ali's mother the photos when she was back in the United States.

Eventually, Brenda would notice that the watch was missing on Saul's wrist; it was the only watch between them. Giving Ali his new watch seemed worth the hike up the mountain. Saul could still smell Ali on his fingers as he boarded the bus, taking the seat behind Brenda. He wouldn't bother telling her about what had happened when he and Ali went looking for snow. Ali was still standing at the bus depot with both hands in his front pockets. He was staring at Saul with the blankest face, waving, as the bus pulled away.

 

©2002 Duane Williams - Contributor's Bio