Straightening Ali by AMJEED KABIL Read Free Book Online

twisted logic on Ali. “Don’t you feel the slightest bit ashamed of yourself? Doesn’t picking up men for sex in toilets make you feel dirty?”
    “ What are you on about?” exclaimed Ali.
    “ You gays meet in toilets, don’t you?” said Yunus more as a statement than a question.
    “ Oh, you should see me on a Friday night. I’m always dressed up and ready to go round to the toilets in the city center,” Ali said sarcastically.
    “ You dirty fucker,” said Yunus, failing to pick up the sarcasm in Ali’s voice. “Have you been skiing?”
    “ Skiing? No,” said Ali feeling bewildered at the change of subject.
    “ Skiing,” Yunus repeated, taking both hands off the steering wheel and gesturing with his hands as if he was holding two ski sticks. “It’s what you poofs always do together.”
    “ Oh you mean threesomes. I’ve lost count,” Ali said inwardly appalled by his own replies, although for some reason he felt compelled to respond to Yunus, no matter how crude his own reply. He knew that he was cementing Yunus’s stereotype of gay men, but couldn’t find a way to end the conversation.
    “ You’ll have to stop being a poof when you’re married. You can’t go around getting fucked up the arse by dirty old white men. It’s perverted. You should be ashamed of yourself,” he said. “When I have kids why should I have to always worry about letting you see them? I should be able to trust you, but I know what you poofs are like, you like to fiddle with children.”
    “ You bastard,” Ali shouted angrily. “I’m gay, not a pedophile. I like men not children you idiot, and I certainly am not ashamed of what I am.” He couldn’t believe how Yunus was relating his sexuality to pedophilia.
    “ You disgusting bastard! How could you say you like men? If dad was around he would have straightened you out. You’re lucky Mum won’t let me deal with you my way, otherwise you’d have two broken legs and be sitting at home in a wheelchair,” Yunus shouted back.
    “ Try it, and we will see who’ll be going to prison,” shouted Ali. “We’re not in a village in Pakistan anymore.”
    “ Do you really think you would be able to leave the house with broken legs? You wouldn’t get a chance to tell the police. We’d lock you up in a room. That’s what they do to people in Pakistan who fuck about like you. You’re so lucky Mum doesn’t understand that you’re a dirty fucker who can’t control himself. She thinks you’re influenced by the white society. She’s too old to understand what gay means.”
    Ali stopped talking to him, hoping that his silence might encourage the verbal assaults to stop. He stared out of the window pretending to be interested in the scenery while Yunus droned on. They drove past a sign which indicated that they were fifteen miles away from Nottingham, making Ali wince inwardly as he wondered how much longer he would have to spend in the car with Yunus.
    “ So why do you like being fucked up the arse by old men?” Yunus asked. Ali pretended not to hear him, but Yunus repeated the question, trying to bait Ali. When he failed to get a response he punched Ali and repeated the question again.
    Ali finally snapped. “They pay me lots of money, that’s why I sleep with old men. Most of them aren’t white anyway. You should see the old Muslim guys with the beards. They’re my best customers. In fact they’re my regulars! I mean fifty pounds for an hour with me is a reasonable price, and the more they pay, the more willing I am.”
    “ What! You’re a prostitute, a dirty fucking rent boy?” Yunus asked in shock, seeking confirmation of the revelation. His face was contorted horribly in disbelief.
    “ Yes,” Ali said, knowing that his brother believed him. “I have regular clients, though. I don’t need to hang about the street, so don’t worry about my safety.”
    “ You’re fucking with my head. You can’t be a rent boy,” Yunus said seeking assurance.
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