Act Two: Scene One
One year later.
Morning.
Zarina and Eli. At home. Both wearing wedding bands on their ring fingers.
ELI: I said I was sorry.
ZARINA: Why were you drinking cranberry juice, anyway?
ELI: Why do you care what I was drinking?
ZARINA: You never drink cranberry juice—
ELI: I didn’t intend to spill my drink—
ZARINA: What are you, on your period?
ELI: Zarina.
ZARINA: The sweater’s ruined.
ELI: I said I was sorry.
ZARINA: If you weren’t sitting next to that harpy. Waving your hands around like a friggin’ windmill—
ELI: She’s Haroon’s sister. She’s my family now, too.
ZARINA: She’s a harpy.
ELI: And I wasn’t waving my hands around like a—
ZARINA (Coming in): And you should know by now, Haroon’s father isn’t going to donate to the mosque—
ELI: You’ve made that very clear.
ZARINA: He didn’t even give us a check for our wedding. So there’s no need to kiss his ass. One thing we don’t do in this family? Is kiss Haroon’s family’s ass.
ELI: I wasn’t kissing his ass.
(Pause, considering)
Is this about your…
ZARINA: You can’t even bring yourself to say it.
Beat.
ELI: I wanted to make sure we had the space and time to have the conversation—
ZARINA (Over): Eli! You finished reading the book two days ago! You didn’t even tell me.
ELI: I’ve been sharing you with this book for an entire year. I don’t get two days to think about it?
ZARINA: When people love something? They tell you. When they don’t? They need time to think about it.
ELI: I couldn’t put it down. I finished it at three a.m.
ZARINA: And if you’d loved it, you would’ve woken me up.
Pause.
ELI: Your portrayal of the Prophet is stunning. That searching quality, his constant self-questioning, his rich conflicted inner life. You really put me in the head of this man…
ZARINA: Which is what I was trying—
ELI: But he’s nothing like the man I know. I didn’t recognize him, Zarina. I didn’t recognize the man I fell in love with when I became a Muslim. I mean the man in your book is overwhelmed. He’s not always clear if he’s hearing voices or going crazy or if it’s God speaking to him. He’s confused about his desires. We see him maneuvering for political advantage—
ZARINA: And he’s charismatic and inspiring and generous, too.
(Beat)
I thought you understood what I was doing.
ELI: I do.
ZARINA: Apparently not.
Beat.
ELI: I’m concerned. It’s very convincing. You’re a very good writer, Zarina. And I’m worried that what you’re putting out there is going to make people who don’t know…—make them think that’s who the Prophet really was.
ZARINA: Nobody knows who the Prophet really was. We hear these stories from our parents—
ELI: Yes, and the man in those stories matters to people. They think they know him. They love that man. The one who goes to visit the old woman who threw garbage on him every day on his way to the mosque—
ZARINA: Really?—
ELI:—knocks on her door on the one day that she doesn’t dump trash on him, finds her sick in bed, and spends the day taking care of her. A woman who wished him nothing but ill.
ZARINA: And George Washington didn’t actually chop down a cherry tree, Eli.
ELI: Does it matter? If the story makes people want to be more honest? Or more compassionate? Who cares if it’s—Isn’t that the deeper truth?
ZARINA: No. It’s not.
ZARINA: You encouraged me.
ELI: I just didn’t realize… how much you hated the man.
ZARINA: I don’t hate him.
I hate what the faith does to women. For every story about his generosity or his goodness, there’s another that’s used as an excuse to hide us. Erase us. And the story of the veil takes the cake.
ELI: I get it, but the young men and women in my mosque… the people you’re trying to reach? If they don’t recognize the man you’re writing about, they’re not going to listen to you.
Long pause.
ZARINA: God. All that time. And if the person I dedicated it to doesn’t even…
ELI: I have a lot at stake. The congregation…
(Beat, going to her)
Zarina.
ZARINA: No. You don’t get to touch me.
ELI: Why not?
ZARINA: Why would you want to touch someone who hates the Prophet so much?
Beat.
ELI: So should I not have said anything? If you didn’t want to hear—
ZARINA (Getting emotional): That’s right, Eli. You shouldn’t have said anything.
(Beat, reaching for manuscript)
ELI: No.
ZARINA: Why?
ELI: I was planning on reading it again. That’s why I didn’t want to talk about it yet.
ZARINA: If you hate it so much—
ELI: I don’t hate it. Can’t you see I’m conflicted? I mean—Isn’t that what good art is supposed to do?
Pause.
ZARINA: That’s sweet.
ELI: I’m not trying to be sweet.
ZARINA: It’s still sweet.
Beat.
ELI: I love you.
ZARINA: You still do?
ELI: It’s not just the congregation. I’m worried people won’t understand what you’re doing. And I don’t want anything to happen to you.