Act One: Scene Two
A bench. At Java on the Park.
On it: a South Asian man—60—in a Georgia Tech Yellow Jackets sweatshirt—on his smartphone as he sips coffee.
This is Afzal, Zarina and Mahwish’s gregarious, larger-than-life father. He has a very noticeable Indo-Pak accent.
Afzal looking at his phone…
AFZAL: C’mon, Mahwish. I know you got my text. It says read at twelve thirty-one.
Just as Eli—30—enters. White, with a beard, looking cleaned up and eager. Not particularly handsome, but very soulful.
Afzal notices him. Types into his phone…
AFZAL (CONT’D) (Quietly): The eagle has landed.
(Putting down his phone, standing)
Eli?
ELI (Surprised): Yes?
AFZAL (Going to shake hands): Afzal, Afzal Jatt.
ELI: Do I know you?
AFZAL: Zarina’s father.
AFZAL: She didn’t tell you?
ELI: Tell me what?
AFZAL: We thought it best you met with me first.
ELI: Oh.
AFZAL: Young man, we are a conservative family. She just thought—I just thought…
ELI: Uh-huh.
AFZAL: You’re disappointed.
ELI (Evasive): No, no, no… I just don’t know why she didn’t let me know…
AFZAL: Would you have come?
ELI: I mean…
AFZAL: And I wasn’t going to let her meet you face-to-face without me meeting you first… So you see… it really couldn’t be any other way.
ELI: Couldn’t it?
AFZAL: You’d be surprised at the types you meet online, young man.
(Off Eli’s continued perplexity)
Take a seat. Can I get you something?
ELI: Uh—
AFZAL (Winning): C’mon, take a seat. You came this far. Might as well…
You drink coffee? You like coffee?
ELI: Sure.
AFZAL: Milk? Sugar?
ELI: Black.
AFZAL: Drinks it like a man. I love it.
Eli looks around, uncomfortable.
Beat.
Afzal’s phone sounds with a text.
Another beat.
Afzal returns, a cup of coffee in hand.
AFZAL (CONT’D): Dark roast.
ELI: What do I owe you?
AFZAL: On me. Actually, on the house. They recognized me from television…
ELI: Wait… you’re…
AFZAL: Always there for you.
ELI: The taxi company.
AFZAL: Zama Yellow Cab.
ELI: Right. Zama.
AFZAL: Named after my two girls. Za-rina, Ma-hwish. Zama.
ELI: 444-ZAMA?
AFZAL: Do you have any idea how many hundreds of thousands of dollars it’s taken to have that jingle printed on your brain?
ELI: Probably don’t want to know, do I?
AFZAL: Why not?
ELI (Pointing at Afzal’s phone): You got a text…
Afzal picks up his phone. Checks.
Grunting to himself. Displeased.
AFZAL: Busy. Busy doing what, for God’s sake? Busy ignoring your father.
ELI: Is that Zarina?
AFZAL (Dismissive): No. The other one.
(Putting the phone down)
So—tell me about yourself, Eli.
ELI: So is she not coming?
AFZAL: No.
ELI: Um—you know, sir… I—uh—thanks for the coffee. I understand that you would want to know more about your daughter’s potential romantic interest, but… I’ve never gone on a date with someone’s father before.
AFZAL: Look. I told you. We’re a conservative family. Humor me. Good news is: I like you already. Dignified. Restrained. Intelligent.
ELI: You can tell all that?
AFZAL: A man of my instincts, son. I’ve gone from driving a cab to owning thirty percent of the taxis in our great city. I know a winner when I see one.
C’mon.
(Beat)
So, you run a mosque in Cobb County.
ELI: How did you know?
Beat.
AFZAL: She told me.
ELI: What else did she tell you?
AFZAL: That you were a convert.
ELI: When I was twenty-three.
AFZAL: Mashallah. How did it happen?
ELI: Kind of a long story, sir…
AFZAL: You’re my only appointment this afternoon.
Beat.
ELI: I grew up in Detroit, in the inner city. I’ve been around Islam as long as I can remember. First time I ever went to a mosque, I was in high school. I’d never experienced anything like it—
AFZAL: Subhanallah.
ELI: The sense of community. The call to prayer. Watching folks praying? It just—it opened me up. I wanted to be a part of that.
AFZAL: Mashallah. Being born into our faith is a great blessing. But even greater to find your way to it.
ELI: I don’t think of it that way, sir. God’s mercy belongs to everyone.
Afzal grunts.
AFZAL: So, what’s this about a soup kitchen?
Beat.
ELI: Well, a lot of our folks eat pretty much one meal a day, and it’s at our masjid. It’s a pretty run-down part of town. We do a lot of home improvement. I’m a licensed plumber, actually.
AFZAL: Fix their houses. Then convert them. Good business plan.
ELI: Our outreach is more about serving others than bringing people to the faith.
AFZAL: You’re a do-gooder!—
ELI: Well…
AFZAL:—Only good thing I did in my life, young man, is my two girls. They are the sum achievement of an otherwise cosmically useless existence. Useless. Shuttling people back and forth. Half the time because they’re too drunk to drive. Look. Don’t get me wrong. Gotta put food on the table. Have to take care of my angels.
(Beat)
How much money do you make?
ELI: Excuse me?
AFZAL: You’re not deaf, are you?
ELI: No, I’m not, sir.
AFZAL: So how much money do you make?
ELI: It’s just…
AFZAL: What?
ELI: It’s a personal question.
AFZAL: I’m assuming you have matrimonial intentions…
ELI: Matrimonial—
AFZAL: You listed “interested in marriage” on your online profile.
ELI: Look. I think your daughter is amazing…
AFZAL: You think my daughter is amazing? How would you know? From a profile? Pictures? Smiley faces?
ELI: Well, I’ve met her, actually.
AFZAL: You met her? Where? When?
ELI: About a year ago. At a talk at Georgia Tech. An event. With Ayaan Hirsi Ali.
AFZAL: That black woman?
ELI: Uh, yes, sir. She’s black. She’s from Somalia.
AFZAL: The one who thinks all Muslims should become Christian?
ELI: That’s not exactly what she thinks—
AFZAL: Why would you go to that?!
ELI: I don’t agree with everything she says—
AFZAL: She wants us to go running around confused, like Christians!
ELI: Confused?
AFZAL: Young man, Jesus Christ was a very good man, very important, we know that—Quran is very clear about that—but he was not the son of God.
ELI: Right.
AFZAL: What did Zarina think about this… event?
ELI: I’m not sure. We didn’t speak about it that much. We ended up sitting next to each other. She seemed pretty engaged to me—
AFZAL (Suddenly): Listen to me, young man. My daughter is a good Muslim. She has fifteen biographies of the Prophet Muhammad, peace be upon him. Fifteen! All lined up in her bedroom.
ELI: I don’t doubt it, sir.
Afzal grunts.
AFZAL: So you spoke to her… then what?
ELI: That was it.
AFZAL: No telephone number? No text messaging?
ELI: I didn’t get a chance to ask her…
But then, lo and behold, I saw her online…
AFZAL (Sarcastic): A year later.
ELI: Yeah.
Beat.
AFZAL: You didn’t say anything about this to me, Eli.
ELI: Say anything to you?
AFZAL (Catching his own slip): To her. I mean, she didn’t say anything to me about—
ELI (Realizing something is amiss): Well… I wasn’t exactly sure if it was her.
AFZAL: I don’t know.
ELI: I figured I’d mention it when I saw her…
Beat. As Eli continues to sort through his confusion.
AFZAL: I liked you, Eli. I really did.
Beat.
ELI: Wait, are you leaving?
AFZAL (Suddenly): Are you a pervert?
ELI: Excuse me?
AFZAL: I’m not going to find some wall in your bedroom covered with pictures of my daughter on it.
ELI: Whoa. Of course not.
AFZAL (Over): Because if it’s there, I will find it. I will.
ELI: I don’t doubt that, sir.
Beat.
AFZAL: How much money do you make?