I TERRORIST
Cynthia Rose
COPYRIGHT 2008 by CYNTHIA ROSE
smashwords edition
ISBN 978-1-61539-985-7
Copyright 2009 Cynthia Rose
no part of this book may be reproduced in any form without permission from the author except for the quotation of brief passages in criticism
Cover illustration by Cynthia Rose
all persons and events in this novel are fictitious, any resemblance to persons living or dead, places or events is coincidental and no similarity to actual persons, places or events is intended or should be inferred
CHAPTER 1
Ahwed
Was he asleep or was he awake? Sometimes it was hard to know. He lay on the cot in his little room gazing out the window at the full moon. From outside he could hear the goats shuffling their hoofs in the pen and faraway the yowl of a stray cat cried out through the moonlit night. Scents of the river far below, the wet earth after the spring rain, new green grass, jasmine and orange blossoms drifted through the room. This was a beautiful night, calm and cool. He couldn’t help think how lucky he was, how Allah had blessed him. Outside a jet cut across the moon like a sharp silver knife. Someday, when he grew up, he would be an astronaut.
He was a fortunate boy; his family lived in one of the better dwellings of the whole village. Their home, a long abandoned army barrack was situated on a path a little bit above the other homes and a little bit below the high bluff where the American’s had camped out. He had his own room, an eight by ten cubicle that had once served as a store room for the head officer that had lived here so many years ago.
Separated by a curtain he could hear his mother’s light snores as she slept on her mat in the kitchen area. He could picture her sleeping peacefully there, accompanied by her two faithful cats. His father had his own room of course, and he chuckled to think that even with the door closed his snores almost shook the tin covering from the roof. His five sisters lay in their tiny room across from his own, an ancient lavatory long since cemented over, and just large enough to hold their straw filled mattress. He could hear them in there whispering, and giggling. They always giggled themselves to sleep.
Soon the midwife had said he would have two more brothers or sisters in the house. His father was determined they would be brothers. He knew from listening to the grownups talk that his mother had given birth twice to still born babies. This was bad, and his father had been very displeased with her. At twenty nine his mother had given birth to six children, five of them girls and he alone was the only son. To make matters worse the two stillborns had been boys. But Praise Be to Allah she would now give birth to twins in the summer and the midwife had assured her these would be boys.
As wisps of clouds slowly drifted across the dark sky, he lay their savoring the wonder of that night feeling his heart fill with joy, his life with promise. Tomorrow he would go find Hassan and they could catch frogs by the bridge, maybe even climb the bluff and talk to the Americans. Lulled to sleep to the sound of gentle breezes and night crickets, he knew in his heart, everything was perfect here, and in this paradise, nothing could ever go wrong.
There was a sudden screech of brakes and he awoke immediately.
”Penn Station, we are now at Penn Station.”
Ahwed shook his head, he had fallen asleep, dreaming, he had almost missed his stop. Hurriedly, he grabbed his bag and his backpack and exited the subway train, heading up the steps to Sixth Avenue.
He caught the bus like he always did and walked the block over to the Mecca CD Mart, stepping cautiously over winos and garbage along the way. It was a dirty little store, smelly and papered with lurid posters of half-naked women posed in provocative positions which he personally found offensive, however he contained his distaste knowing his visit was a very short one and he would be out of there and on his way elsewhere in a matter of minutes.
Robert, a greasy faced, unshaven man of Pakistani background handed him the little case with the two CD’s in it. The CD’s had labels identifying them as Garth Brooks in Concert and The Bee Gee’s Greatest Hits. Not that he or Robert, who of course was not really named Robert, had the slightest interest in the American music industry or the filth it spawned. None of the information on the two CD’s had anything to do with the music world or any of the artists therein.
It was always the same, Robert handed him the CD’s, one thousand in small bills in an envelope and a round trip air ticket to some destination in the United States. This time it was to Phoenix, he had never been to Phoenix, he had heard it was desert. He knew about desert. Throwing the CD’s into his backpack he stopped long enough at the park for his afternoon prayers. He decided to grab a quick bite to eat at Mc Donald’s. The American’s were heathens but some of their food was truly beyond compare.
Later, climbing up the stairs to his fourth story walkup in the Bronx, he tried to relax his mind and prepare for the trip ahead. He knew that his last two missions had been failures, due to no fault of his own, but still they had not worked out as planned. When he was younger he had wanted to do something very heroic, like be a suicide bomber on a subway, or part of a daring group sabotaging and bringing down a jumbo jet. He had often fantasized of exactly how they would film his farewell video and the brave and poignant words he would say. But the old mullahs had other plans for him where he could serve Allah in just as important though much less dramatic way. He sighed; such was destiny and turned the key to enter his tiny apartment.
Ahwed lay down on his single bed and gazed out the window. Even at night the sky always looked orange and the air was polluted with the smell of bus fumes, tobacco smoke and human sweat. He remembered the dream he’d had on the subway. How innocent life had been then, how innocent he had been then. If only he had known how in one day life could change. How one evil and depraved person could curse a whole family and blot out their futures like a great black cloud seeping across a star studded sky. He wanted to think happy thoughts, remember happy childhood moments, but as so many times before the thought of the evil one, the one whose name must never be spoken, eclipsed everything else.
He tried to forget, but to this very minute he remembered exactly how it was. Actually, it had been the very next day, the day after that blessed night he had gazed out at the moon filled with childish innocence. How could he have known that the next day that dawned would be that terrible moment in time, that was to change all of their lives forever?
CHAPTER 2
The Execution
The morning had started out routinely enough. His mother, now big in her pregnancy, bustled around cheerfully keeping his sisters busy at their chores. She swept and scrubbed their cement floor till it was immaculate, tended to the goats and chickens, cut up and cooked vegetables from their little truck garden. The girl’s as usual laughed and giggled as they hung clothes out to dry in the warm wind. Thinking back, he could remember looking at the evil one, her arms full of damp laundry and the ever present grin on her face, and never have predicted in his wildest thoughts the darkness that dwelled within her.
If he could have known, could have seen behind her smiling mask what lay ahead could he have stopped her, kept it all from happening? But he was only eight years old then. What does an eight year old know? She was fourteen, at the age to be married. His father had even started talking to some of the men around town, politely suggesting monetary amounts, and things had looked very promising for her future.
It was in the late afternoon after prayers, that his mother had sent his oldest sister down to the village to get a bit of honey and brown sugar for a special treat she had planned to make. It was almost dinner time and she still hadn’t come home. He could remember his stomach starting to growl, he wished she would hurry up, the supper on the stove smelled delicious. His father soon tired of waiting, had his mother unroll his soft plush carpet across the cement floor. She then brought out two of the large plush pillows, so he and his father could prepare to eat. Ever since he had been six, he took his meals on the plush carpet with his father as he was the only boy.
His mother sent the girl’s outside as she always did, then set the huge platter of curried rice, steamed vegetables, bits of chicken and a stack of warm bread down for them to feast on, leaving the room so they could dine in peace.
Outside he could hear her calling his sister’s name over and over. His father looked annoyed. He hated female chatter and her loud voice was upsetting his stomach. He reached for more ginger tea. Finally when they had eaten their fill, he called his mother back in and she removed the platter of food temporarily, shook out and rolled up the plush blanket, putting it and the comfortable pillows back in their corner. She then unrolled their straw women’s mat and set the large platter and what was left of the dinner down for her and the girls to eat. He and his father retired out to the front steps where his father rubbed his full belly and rolled and lighted up a cigarette.
Usually the women’s meal was a long one with a great deal of feminine gossip and foolish laughter, once the women were seated the cats came rushing in to grab what scraps they could make away with and this was always followed by loud outbursts of hilarity from the group.
His father always suspected that his wife kept certain prize tidbits of food aside for the girls and herself instead of doing the decent thing and seeing the men had a chance at all the best food first. However, if she did indeed do this she was exceedingly sly about it, and being that this was something nearly impossible to prove, he had long since given up complaining and refused to worry his head with it.
This particular night however the girls and his mother were not laughing, their voices were kept low and he could tell they were worried. The oldest sister still had not returned home and darkness was beginning to fall.
That’s when he heard it; the loud high pitched scream. Up the path his sister came running like a whirling dervish in a cloud of dust. .She ran so fast he scarcely saw her as she flew up the steps and into the house. The girls turned in shock; her face was stained with dust, dirt and tears, her clothes torn and ripped and flew around her like rags in a whirlwind. Blood ran down her legs leaving a scarlet trail across the cement floor. His mother took one look at her, jumped up from her meal and started screaming.
He remembered his father pushing him into his little room and pulling the curtain. He was told under no circumstances to even think of venturing out or listening to the grownups talking about what was going on. Of course, he stood to one side of the curtain keeping his ears pealed for every sound. He saw his father leave and then come back with the village midwife. They spoke in whispers. His mother cried loudly. Then his father summoned his sister and the two of them left the house together. Much later that night his father came back alone. His sister had been imprisoned waiting for trial. He heard his mother and sisters weeping continuously through the night.
I wasn’t until the next day when Uncle Khalid arrived that he began to find out what had happened. Uncle Khalid was his father’s older brother and very highly looked up to. Uncle Khalid had a driver’s license and had once worked as a chauffeur for a rich family in Baghdad. Now he owned a small business near the center of town where he sold useful American things to the townspeople.
In years passed, Uncle Khalid had become friendly with the Americans that had their little encampment high up on the bluff. He told them that the Americans were archeologists. Neither Ahwed nor his father knew what an archeologist was but Uncle explained they were American people with a lot of money who dug around in the dirt of the high bluff hoping to find bits and pieces of pottery or bones from civilizations long since passed. True, this was ridiculous; however rich men have the right to indulge their follies.
Early on he had ingratiated himself with these people and offered his services as an interpreter and general handyman around their compound. In turn they gave him some American money for his services but better yet all their castaway items and clothes. However the most cherished things they gifted him with were the used tires from their SUV’s, RV’s and jeeps that they drove over the rocky terrain incessantly day after day. These tires helped him make the much sought after tire tread sandals that were prized throughout the whole village.
Uncle Khalid had taken him up to visit the Americans last summer when an ant bite on his arm had started to become sore and reddened. A woman there with a long bright orange braid of hair said she was a nurse. She had then rubbed his wound with .a liquid that stung a little, applied some oily and disagreeable smelling lotion and a white sticky bandage. She had smiled at him and handed him some hard candy on a stick when he left. He remembered thinking the mysterious woman with the bright orange hair; the uncovered ghostly white face that wore men’s pants was strange but nice.
But Uncle Khalid was not here today to talk about the Americans, he was here to talk serious business and for this he took Ahwed by the hand and they walked down to the river. Close to the bridge, but not so close anyone could hear their conversation they sat down on a rock. His uncle explained that today he was here to make clear to the young boy the events from the day before. He admitted it was a lot to put in plain words to an eight year old but had decided at the bidding of his brother he would try to do so. Staring down as the peaceful green water rolled by Ahwed had tried to comprehend exactly what his uncle was saying, because at first his words confused him but after a time they started to make some sort of sense.
First Uncle Khalid talked about the mating process using the examples of dogs and goats for clarification. Actually he already knew some of this as he and Hassan had discussed it at some length the year before. Then he went on to say how this same process was done with human beings also. This, he also knew about too, as he hand Hassan had discussed this in additional conversations and knew this rather disgusting process was unfortunately a necessary evil used to supply families with babies. Then his uncle took the discussion a step further. He asked Ahwed if he knew what rape was.
Rape, he explained, was when a woman accused a man or boy of forcing her to mate with him. This was a very serious charge and if convicted a man could be subject to public flogging or in extreme cases beheading. Getting to the point, he said,
“Your sister accused three boys of raping her yesterday.”
This bit of information hit him like a stun gun leaving him confused and disoriented. Why would they do that? Weren’t people supposed to be married to do this nasty thing? Certainly those boys wouldn’t want crying babies with her. Uncle Khalid sighed and patiently tried to explain the process in easier terms so that a young boy like him could understand it.
It was true that only married people and absolutely no one else should ever share in the mating process and the fruits of such union should always produce offspring. However, he took a deep breath; it was more complicated than that. A woman must always be pure and untouched when she was married. For this the man would hang a bloody sheet out the window for the entire village to see the minute the marriage was consummated. If the woman was not a virgin and the sheet was not able to be displayed she would be publicly flogged, the marriage immediately annulled and the woman banished from the village forever. He had wanted to ask what a bloody sheet had to do with it all but decided against it as it was obvious the very telling of such pertinent information was embarrassing his uncle to no end.
Nothing like this however, had ever happened in this village before. People here were good and the women of the highest moral standards, that was till yesterday. When his sister had come running home, his father had summoned the midwife immediately. She confirmed that their worst fears were realized and his sister was no longer a virgin. This in itself was a terrible burden for any family to bear for without her virginity there was no chance of marriage and arrangements would have to be made to take her across the border where she could be sold to a house, he cleared his throat, where women like that lived. But he continued her case was even worse than expected.
Everyone knew that in times before there had been certain young women of the town who had made missteps and their families had removed them discreetly to another province and no more mention was made of it. But, his sister had run screaming through the streets and all the way up the little hill, her clothes in tatters proclaiming the names of not one, or two, but three young men as her rapists.
This was why her father had taken her with him down the hill and into town where she told her story to the mullah and the man appointed as the town judge. Her story was that she was chasing a cat into an alley to find out where it had left its kittens. She had turned at the end of the alley to find the three young men following her. Quickly they surrounded her muffling her screams with a shirt and pushed her behind an abandoned goat shed and here the deed was done.
Ahwed remembered being shocked and immediately feeling pity and compassion for his injured sister. Uncle Khalid caught his expression and said,
“But wait, before you feel too sorry for this woman, hear my son the rest of this story.”
After she had given her tearful account of what happened the three young men she had named were brought into the little courtroom. As it turned out all three young men were of spotless reputation and well thought of in the community. One was the sheriff’s son, another mullah’s nephew, and a third a cousin from a well to do family in the city. Their story was a bit different.
They told the court how his sister enticed them, pulling back her scarf and exposing her face and neck to them at the marketplace, smiling seductively when she thought no one else was watching. Then as she walked away pulling her skirts high enough to expose a bare ankle tempting them even further. They followed her up the alley where she turned to them and brazenly uncovering her face boldly invited them behind the little goat shed where she pulled up her skirts and let them have their way with her. After they had left, in fear of what her family might say, she ripped her clothes, rubbed dirt on her face and ran through the streets yelling rape.
The judge deliberated, and then he went into a side room and conferred with the boys’ families. He also talked to Uncle Khalid and his father, and then he came in and made his decision. In light of all the facts presented there was no real evidence that the three boys had committed the crime of rape, instead it appeared that it was actually a wicked, depraved girl caught in the grips of lust that had willfully and maliciously enticed the young boys into an immoral and indecent situation then lied and twisted the truth to cover up her own debauchery.
Such a crime was so shocking and unheard of in the tiny village that it was decided that to serve as an example of morality to all other women in this town that might be tempted to follow in her footsteps that she would have to be given the maximum sentence. And although her father argued to put her away quietly and privately, due to the nature of her charges and attempts to sully the reputations of the three innocent young men it was decided that the sentence be public stoning. The stoning would be carried out the next day.
Ahwed didn’t know what to think. He had never seen a public stoning but his best friend Hassan had seen one last year in a town near Baghdad. He said they hit the lady with rocks till she finally fell down and died. He said one big rock caved her head in and blood and gooshy stuff ran out of her head all over the pavement and she twitched for a while then lay still. They said she was dead and carried her away. It was gross. So it meant now, that this would happen to his sister. How awful!