Across the table was a really nice gray suit with a narrow pin stripe, white shirt, and colorful tie; obviously a Yankee come home. Probably even drank beer. Nedim knew he was the only good Muslim in the room.
Sitting in front of the man was a yellow file folder. It was stuffed to what looked like its capacity with papers. On top of the folder was a single sheet of paper. Even looking at it upside down he could read the heading of “Confession.” There was a lot of typed text and a place for him to sign at the bottom. Life was not looking good.
Next to the file folder was a half-used white legal pad. Sitting on it was a silver Cross pen. This meant they (whoever “they” were at this point) wanted something. Perhaps today wasn’t going to be completely horrible after all. When it came right down to it, Nedim was more than willing to let others die or go to prison for him. Actually, he admitted to himself, he kind of liked the idea. Nothing says importance like being able to order others to die. Isn’t that why he really got involved with this in the first place?
Focus! He shouted in his mind. Then he looked the man across the table in the eye and asked, “Why am I here?”
“We have identified you as an al-Qaeda operative,” replied the man.
“I am a good Muslim, nothing more,” replied Nedim.
The man opened the folder and started removing printouts of Nedim’s emails. There were circled items and handwritten notes all over them. Many of them were pictures that looked identical, but some had handwritten notes at the bottom. He remembered many of those images having been used throughout the past couple of years.
Nedim sat silent while the man continued to flip through printouts of his emails. He noticed that the man appeared to have a better color printer than he did. That, more than anything else from this morning, irritated him. This pile of julab had a better printer than Nedim, yet Nedim was the only good Muslim in the room.
It seemed so simple when this all started. Nedim was on a flight away to university. He was seated next to a man who claimed to be a cleric and certainly could quote any section of the Holy Quran he wished. It turned out the cleric was from a mosque near the university Nedim would be attending. Because Nedim considered himself a good Muslim, he could not turn down an invitation to pray there and attend some lectures around his class schedule.
Nedim continued to sit silent, watching the man flip through the emails. Some, with a significant amount of circled words and handwritten notes, were even turned so he could read the handwriting. Nedim continued to show no expression.
After attending some prayer services at the cleric’s mosque, Nedim was asked to sit in on some of the discussions about the lessons of the Quran. Quite a few of Nedim’s classmates were in these discussions as well. Most found reasons to bow out eventually, but a handful who considered themselves good Muslims stayed.
One of Nedim’s classmates, Sami, was not the good Muslim he claimed. His family owned a pizza restaurant. They actually handled pork! Nedim also believed they ate it. A good Muslim should not have a girlfriend and go out on dates with her. Sami did. Sami had sex with his girlfriend and would openly talk about it back at university. Sami was not a good Muslim. Nedim would point this out every chance he could during the discussions with the cleric, yet the cleric would not toss him out of the discussions.
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