The Ayatollah's Money

  Chapter 18 – The Real Junes

  The next morning Laleh woke up to find the dog sitting next to her bed, politely waiting to be taken for a walk. In Charleston even the dogs are polite. And Shimmey had spoiled the dog by taking it for so many walks every day, all the better to avoid working on his book. The Junes enjoyed walking the dog around their neighborhood, either together or separately, but they didn’t have the motivation Shim did. Instinctively the dog knew the day would come when Shim would leave and the number of walks would decrease; just as he knew, joyously, that Laleh now would take over that important responsibility. They had bonded immediately.

  Laleh was a little hung over from the three Sidecars she’d had, that being her introduction to cognac, Grand Marnier, and lemon juice, but she got up to begin her exploration of America, the devil’s playground. And what better way than to take the dog for a stroll around the neighborhood. She showered, drank a glass of water, dressed in something casual she had picked out at Harvey Nichols, and went down the two flights of stairs to the hall. The dog went to the front door and looked at her. She looked back and asked, “Can I get a cup of coffee first?” The dog wasn’t happy with the delay, but understanding she was a newbie, he nodded, Yes.

  Under his breadth he added, “Just don’t take too long, ok?”

  She smelled coffee in the kitchen, headed that way, and found Roger and Gwen sitting at the large oval table on which sat the remains of their breakfast: scramble eggs, home fried potatoes, fruit, and coffee. Roger was reading the Washington Post, and Gwen was cleaning two of her handguns, a Glock forty caliber and an H&K nine millimeter. The sight of the guns activated Laleh’s sense of smell, which now detected the odor of gun oil mixed with the smell of the coffee. She’d never seen a handgun before except on TV and in movies, because the Rev Guard Corps in Tehran all carried assault rifles, and citizens were not permitted to own handguns. There was something incongruous about seeing one of the guns next to the half full bowl of blueberries, and the other in Gwen June’s lovely right hand.

  Despite her hangover Laleh was alert, and said, “Expecting trouble this morning? Hope those aren’t on my account.”

  Both of them smiled, and Roger said, “She wanted to make sure none of Shimmey’s women had messed with her guns. He hangs around with those dangerous and desperate types.”

  Gwen said, “Would you like some breakfast? Coffee?”

  “Coffee please. Maybe something to eat when I come back from walking the dog. He only gave me five minutes, said he wanted to show me around the neighborhood.” She sat down and continued looking at the guns. None of the people in her family ever had pulled her chair out for her to sit down at the table, and none of them ever had cleaned guns at the breakfast table, either. These Junes were full of surprises.

  Roger said, “I have some bad news.”

  Laleh thought, ‘The Guard knows I’m here.’

  “No wine today. Gwen’s orders. Thinks we may become alcoholics.”

  “What’s an alcoholic?”

  “It’s a person who’s addicted to wine and Sidecars. Wants them all the time.”

  Laleh said, “What’s wrong with that?” And smiled.

  Gwen said, “We gotta dry out more than one day. That’s not enough.”

  Roger said, “Ok, two, if we have to go to extremes.”

  Laleh sipped the Kenyan coffee and asked, “So what are we going to do today, after I walk the dog? Shoot somebody or something?”

  “What do you want to do?”

  “Meet some Americans. Have lunch with Shim. Learn how to shoot a gun.”

  Together Roger and Gwen said, “Ok.”