NO PROPHET

INTRODUCTIONS

Ezan smiled at his reflection in the mirror. His expression needed to look as neutral as possible. It was not every day he met his girlfriend's parents. It was even a first. At age twenty-seven, the man consumed by achieving the professional goals he fixed had little time to seduce women, let alone their parents.

Of course, it was Anais who instigated things by approaching him. Six months later, they were what people called an item, and Anais wished to go a step further by presenting Ezan to her parents.

"Don't stress; you look perfect," said the woman who grasped him by the waist and kissed him on the cheek. "They'll adore you just like I do."

"I just want to make a good impression."

"You will only make a good one if we are on time. You'd think you're meeting Macron."

The man wanted to look like son-in-law material, so he chose a baby pink Lacoste polo and camel chino pants.

Who are you kidding? Thought Ezan, who felt he impersonated Carlton in Fresh Prince with his outfit.

Ezan was unsure about his outfit or aptitude to please Saint Croix. From what he heard in the policemen's locker room, Anais's parents were patriots with service history in the French police force and army. Anais's grandfather was even decorated with the Legion D'honneur.

Some colleagues told Ezan to be careful as the Saint Croix family were known to be members of the Far Right political parties.

Ezan found it difficult to believe. Anais seduced him and planned to introduce him to her family, though he was as black as one could be. In his blood streamed the genes of his Ethiopian, Sudanese, and Moroccan ancestors.

Again, sharing Far Right political views didn't mean one was racist in Ezan's opinion. The partisans were nationalists who wished France to privilege the French and not the massive flux of immigrants who came on boats from Spain and Greece.

Ezan was born and raised in France. One could not place him amongst the nuisances the Croix fought. He, too, hated the way immigrants flooded the land and benefited from free health services and financial allocations he paid for with his taxes. The man forgot it was the same services that helped his family when they arrived in France thirty years ago.

The Saint Croix couldn't be racist if they accepted him at their table.

Alpha's words came to mind, "Man, keep your phone next to you and sleep with one eye open. We all know what happened in Get Out."

The comparison made Ezan laugh but remained lurking in his mind.

No, he wasn't scared. It was just a first-time apprehension. Ezan assumed Anais would react the same if she met his parents.

Suddenly, he realized that perhaps she had waited for the same gesture from him. Ezan had yet to have the encounter in mind.

He wasn't ready. If Ezan were honest, he would add he was a coward. Unlike Anais, Ezan wasn't keen on presenting a كافرة [kāfirah non-muslim] even if he loved her. There were already enough feuds between his family and him.

"Ezan, we'll be late. Are you ready?"

Ezan nodded and grabbed his car keys while Anais tied her hair in a bun and put on her Ray-Ban aviator sunglasses. As usual, her attire was effortless. The woman who wore her uniform all week retrieved her femininity on weekends with fluid mini-skater dresses, ripped jeans, and leggings. She wore a black tank top, mini denim shorts, and flat sandals there. She didn't think to include a bra for the occasion but rarely did.

It was Sunday, and the sun shone brightly in a cloudless sky. What could go wrong?

Ezan put the keys in the ignition while Anais picked a playlist. The drive was short, on the outskirts of Nevers.

"Remember, don't speak of subjects you have no expertise about. My father hates approximation. My mother will probably ask you a whole bunch of stuff about Africa. Just remind her politely that you're born here. She likes to seem concerned about the poor."

Ezan glanced at her, "Not all Africans are poor."

"They all are in my mother's eyes," Anais replied. My sister will ignore you; don't take it personally. She's in her I-do n't-care-about-anything-else-but-me phase."

Anais briefed him for the first time. It was only then that Ezan realized the woman was stressed. Somehow, her reaction reassured him.

The Saint Croix lived in a villa they owned for generations. Ezan heard Anais's father was very influential in the police. Yes, Ezan didn't choose simple, but it wasn't a strategy. Things just happened that way.

Ezan put on his best smile, and they left the car.

No one waited at the entrance. Instead, the couple went around the vast house and entered the garden.

"Anais," her mother exclaimed and got up to greet them, "bonjour, je suppose vous êtes Eisman? [Hello, I suppose you Eismann?]"

"C'est Ezan, maman [it's Ezan, mom]."

"Enchantée, Ezan. Je suis Agate. [Nice to meet you, Ezan I'm Agate]."

"Enchantée, eh, Anais said you liked wine, so I brought this," Ezan said and gave the bottle.

Agate examined the bottle, "wow, it's authentic."

The man breathed deeply and smiled, "I bought it in Florence." Ezan didn't know how to handle the remark and let it slide just as he did with the error concerning his name. The build-up of people's comments in his mind throughout the week made him edgy and paranoid.

"Thank you, Ezan. Come and meet the rest of the family."

They advanced to the table.

"So this is Sophie, Anais' younger sister."

"Salut [hi]," the teen said. She had her hair dyed crow black. The color made her blue eyes stand out. Ezan recalled what Anais told him about her sister. Sophie cared about herself, but the teen also wished to detach herself from her family's appearance.

Ezan continued the introduction table tour.

"Clarisse enchantée," said a woman who looked older than Agate but had the same facial traits.

"Clarisse is my sister. You must know her husband, Pierre," Agate said.

"Good afternoon, sir," Ezan hurried to say.

Pierre Colmont was an inspector in their jurisdiction. Ezan was surprised to see him there, but he was shocked to note that Anais had not told him they were related.

Anais' father sat at the head of the table and didn't judge it fit to get up. It was Ezan who made his way to the man to greet him.

"Bonjour, monsieur."

"Alors c'est toi [so it's you]," the older man said.