With each particle of saliva spewing from an infuriated Khadim my eyes grew, as well as my connection to the conniving transfer student. Khadim's initial arrogant attitude and snide remarks, which seemed to deflect the questions prepared by Dr. Danielson, quickly escalate into a rage. At that moment, I was no longer watching a play. I was transported to a tension filled interrogation between my father and me.
Khadim was I, and I, Khadim. The desk was now my kitchen table with my father, Ramon, on one side, I on the other. Ramon (played by Dr. Danielson) takes a light approach, but the forecast is dark. The questions "Why weren't you in class after the fire drill?" or "Why did you go back out after you came home?" are jabs setting up a big hook, in hopes of a knockout.
But characters as sharp as I (played by Khadim) have lightning fast defenses, and with each zig, I zag. The web of lies entangles me, but I believe those lies ensure the authenticity of my ever-changing falsifications.
It is obvious, however, that I have met my match. Dr. Danielson’s exhibition of statistics, props found in lockers, and a flute are synonymous with the objections of my father. He portrays it as an effortless investigation, but I know my father is losing sleep over it. Lying to my father exhausts my motivation to fight. His fuel to interrogate diminishes upon the realization that I am his son. Just as Dr. Danielson and Khadim's connection with Lia broke down their abrasive exteriors - each of us surrenders our swords. The only thing exchanged at that moment is forgiveness.
I love you, Dad. -Jeff P.