Blue-Haired Muslim

Chapter 13: Loss

     Sam played with his cheese fries, gulping whenever Rana would glance at him. His palms felt sweaty and he felt as if he was under interrogation, even though the woman next to him had yet to ask him anything. 

     "You still silent, Sam? Rana's not going to eat you alive," Sarah joked while heading down the counter with another order. 

     "Yeah, man. Our Command Sergeant Major will probably just slam you to the ground if she thinks you're being pervy," a uniformed soldier said in passing, causing the teen to look at him in worry. 

     "I'm not a perv!" Sam declared hurriedly.

      "I know, Sam. Don't listen to him. He's an ass. Hernandez, stop terrorizing my friend's kid," Rana called out while pointing a fork at the young soldier. 

     Hernandez cackled before sitting with the group of soldiers that had entered with Rana. It seemed as if the group was very close even though their ranks were much different. Sam bit into his burger to avoid any more conversation with the soldiers. He could feel Rana's gaze on him and felt himself shrink even more in front of her.

     "Now you've got the boy all self-conscious. Y'all only come in when your Sergeant Major brings you in for a meal, but this boy and his father are my regulars. You mess with him again and y'all will be escorted out of here by my husband," Sarah scolded.  

     The uniformed men nodded and apologized in unison before slightly bowing their heads in embarrassment. Sam looked at Sarah in thanks, but wrinkled his nose once Sarah rubbed her hand over his hair. 

     "You'll always be like a son to me, Sam. I get to ruffle your hair all I want," Sarah chuckled while watching Sam fix his hair again. "Rana, where's your little princess? Shehzadi, right?"

     "At home with Ahmed and Ruby. Her name's Khadijah, remember? Shehzadi is only her nickname," Rana explained fondly.

     "Oh! Um, Ms. Hashemi?" Sam began after mustering up a some courage to speak to her. He remembered the look of worry on the little girl's face and felt as if he should inform Rana about the little girl's plight.

     "Yes, Sam?" Rana asked with a smile. 

     "Um, I saw Khadijah at the mosque today. I spent the day learning about Islam for my church project," Sam explained and then continued. "I think she's worried about her dad. She said that he didn't call on time and she hoped that he was okay."

     Rana's pale green eyes widened in surprise. She shifted all of her attention on Sam and whispered,

     "Khadijah was worried?"

     "Yes, ma'am," Sam nodded. 

     Rana sighed before rubbing her face with her hands. She took a moment before inhaling slowly and whispering,

     "She's too smart for her own good. Dawood's squad was ambushed this week. I haven't heard from him yet, but I'm sure he's okay. He's a strong man, a smart man. That's the life of a soldier. I just haven't been able to explain what happened to Khadijah yet." 

     Sam paused and frowned. He knew that soldiers were attacked and died in the line of duty everyday. He knew that, but this was the first time he had heard about someone he knew being attacked. I don't really know him, but I do know Khadijah. I really hope he's okay, for her sake. She really loves her dad. 

     "I'm sure Dawood's fine. That boy always puts a smile on my face. With so many people praying for him, how could he get hurt? Now, the real question is, when are you going to get married and have a little girl of your own? That way Khadijah has someone to play with," Sarah asked, obviously changing the subject to lighten the mood. 

     "Sarah, we talk about this every time I'm here. I'm almost forty. There's no man out there that'd want an old spinster like me. There was a time I considered getting married. Not anymore," Rana explained with a slight smile. She looked forlorn, Sam noted, as if something had happened a long time ago that changed her opinion on marriage. 

     "But you're beautiful," Sam blurted out and then turned beet red once he realized that he said those words out loud. Rana turned to look at him in pleasant surprise. She flashed a pleased half-smile and asked,

     "Am I now? That's a boost right to my ego."

     "I-I-I," Sam began and sighed. He took a deep breath and tried to control his erratic heartbeat. He needed to explain his thought process. What if Rana slammed him on the ground like Hernandez said? He mustered up his courage and began again,

     "I meant that you're not a spinster. I swear I'm not a perv."

     Rana laughed and patted Sam on his back. Her worries seem to disappear as she indulged in the absurdity of the moment. She looked at her food before shaking her head and giving Sam's back on last pat.

     "You remind me of the man I once wanted to marry. Your personality. He was always a nervous wreck around me," Rana spoke softly with a fond smile on her face.

     "Why didn't you marry him?" Sam asked curiously.

      "He died," Rana said simply. Sam frowned and  realized that he had asked something a little too personal. 

     "I'm sorry, Ms. Hashemi. I didn't mean to pry."

     "You're fine, Sam. I've never really shared this with anyone, not even my brothers. I guess since you remind me of him, you're easy to talk to. He was my superior in the army, a Muslim just like me. I liked him and he liked me. We didn't spend much time together because we were always deployed in different areas, but we kept in contact. He asked me to meet his parents and being the young romantic at heart that I was, I did. I met his parents on base while in uniform. I didn't wear a scarf at the time. They hated me. They already despised having  their son in the army when he could have gone to law school, they couldn't even begin to imagine having a daughter-in-law in the army as well. We were deployed in Iraq together for the first and last time. I wish I could say that he died trying to save my life or something romantic like that. He died following sloppy orders. His parents blamed me because we were assigned the same route. I lived, he died. I realized that I was being selfish as a soldier. I could die at any moment. I can't put anyone else through the heartbreak I felt back then. I can't be that selfish again," Rana whispered somberly.

     "That's not your fault though, Ms. Hashemi. It's not up to us when we live or die. That's up to God. You could still get married and live a happy life with your husband. History doesn't necessarily repeat itself," Sam said quickly while trying the brighten Rana's mood. 

     "That's a very Muslim approach to life and death, Sam. Thank you. I didn't realize that I had bottled that up for so long. I needed to talk to someone, obviously. It seems that your father's religious thinking is starting to rub off on you. Death is ordained by the One above, not by us. Thank you again, Sam," Rana said in appreciation.

     Sam nodded and continued with his meal. He didn't even remember listening to the lesson on life and death that Max had discussed a few weeks ago, but somehow it was lodged in his head already. He frowned. Why was his head retaining Islamic lessons? He wasn't even Muslim. No, the real question is why am I believing these lessons, even subconciously? I need to talk to Pastor Eric. This isn't good. 

     With that thought, Sam decided he'd see Eric first thing in the morning.