I was not ashamed of my penis. It’s just that Stephen Kellner isn’t circumcised, and even though it was ubiquitous in Iran, Mom thought it was important for the son to look like the father.
Like I said, we didn’t shower after physical education at Chapel Hill High School. And I wasn’t on any of Chapel Hill High School’s Sportsball Teams (Go Chargers), so I never had to shower after any practices.
And even if I had been on a team, the showers in the Chapel Hill High School locker room were individual stalls with curtains and everything.
I had never showered with other guys looking at me before.
Maybe my penis really was weird-looking.
Okay. I will admit I was pretty sure I was not weird-looking, because there was the Internet.
I knew I didn’t look any different.
Though I still hoped I was going to grow some more.
That’s normal.
Right?
The front door was locked, so I went around back. Babou was still at the kitchen table, sipping tea and eating tokhmeh, when I stepped inside. I wondered if he had been there the whole time, caught in a temporal causality loop while I was out playing soccer/non-American football and being humiliated for having an intact foreskin.
He spat out an empty shell and glanced at me as I struggled to toe my shoes off.
I had been in such a rush to leave, I had put Sohrab’s worn black Adidas back on, and they were much tighter on my Hobbit feet than my Vans.
I hated them.
“Darioush,” he grumbled. “Did you have fun? Did you win?”
“Um. Yeah. We won.”
“You played with Sohrab’s friends?”
“Yeah.”
“Where is Sohrab? He didn’t come back?”
I shook my head.
“Darioush-jan. You don’t want to invite him to dinner? Next time ask him over after you play.”
“I don’t think I’m going to play again.”
Not ever.
I couldn’t take any more penile humiliation.
Babou scooted his chair back and stared at me. “Eh? Why not?”
“Um.”
I could not tell my grandfather the boys had compared my penis to Iran’s Supreme Cleric.
“They don’t like me very much.”
“What?” Babou got up and took me by the shoulders. “Why do you think that, Darioush-jan? It’s probably a misunderstanding.”
It was the sort of thing Stephen Kellner would have said.
