The Truest Soldier-Islamic Life Story

Chapter Nine

It didn't take long for Asima to start cleaning up her act. But there was a slight problem.

Home.

It was expected that every trainee go back home for a week before getting their assigned work. Many who would not be deployed after their return would stay for extra studies that would last a few months before sent onto enemy territory for experience training.

Asima knew how much every trainee was anticipating the end of basic training. Even Scar. But Asima realized she'd made yet another mistake as that day drew near. She had brought enough money to pay for her ticket to the Fort and enough to pay for extra, more doubtless foods at the cafeteria, but not enough to go back home. Asima mentally slapped herself, knowing at the time of her leaving, she probably never wished to go back.

But Asima kept her focus on her training, in effort to make up for her stupidity. She'd let everyone know she couldn't handle herself and Scar knew that well.

Her quick progress to the top surprised the Colonel, as well as the others. By the time basic training was over, the Colonel's elite, despite his personal views, were Zaen, Scar, and Asima, among others.

To Asima's knowledge, everyone had passed, including herself. Zaen was excited, mainly because she knew he couldn't wait to go back home. He had people (and a certain pet cat) waiting for him. What did she have waiting for her? A deranged family and a sick brother.

"There's a huge crowd in the Laundry Room," Mikey was telling Zaen. The two were in their bunker while Asima was trying to look for her Qur'an. How stupid could you be to lose your own Qur'an, she muttered under her breath. "Shits going down there. We can't make it.""

Zaen shrugged.

"Our stuff is hidden pretty good. I doubt anything would happen to it."

"Zaen, you know where my Qur'an is?" Asima asked, interrupting them. Zaen frowned and shook his head.

"Are you talking about a small, big ass book with a black cover and gold writing on its front?" Asima scowled at his description, but nodded. "Oh, well, I thought I saw it in the Laundry Room," Mikey answered.

"What's it doing there?" she asked. He shrugged. Asima sighed and sat on the bed, rubbing her temples. Zaen watched her for a moment before turning back to his conversation with Mikey.

After a while, Zaen suggested they go to the Laundry Room to get their stuff and start packing. Asima trudged behind the two, trying to figure out how to tell Zaen she wasn't going home. Send a letter back, maybe, but that was it. She couldn't face her family. In all her life, she had never been so scared.

"What the fuck is all this?" Mikey nearly yelled. Knowing his use of vulgar language was a common thing, Asima didn't take heed of what he said; but when she heard Zaen cry out, "Astagh'firullah!" she looked up.

Bits of paper littered the Laundry Room floor. Seeing how Zaen was on his knees, face red, Asima dropped to inspect the paper, letting out a muffled cry.

It was her Qur'an. Ripped to shreds. The cover lay open, tossed beside the washing machines, its contents torn away.

Asima's head swam at the idea of what occurred. She tried to think, but the only thing her mind could focus on was her Qur'an, its sacred texts, now nothing but a heap of waste.

Tears streamed down her face and Asima shut her eyes, bowing her head to the floor. How could she have let this happen?

"Oh shit," Mikey whispered, taking a step away from the scene, realizing it was far from okay.

"I'm gonna murder whoever did this," Asima whispered, brushing away the tears off her cheeks with her shoulder. Her fingers gripped tightly onto one of the fragments of what used to be her Qur'an.

****

"It's too late for that," Zaen said. "Whoever did this is catching their plane ride home tomorrow morning." He could see the anger and sadness in Asima's eyes, but his words proved true. Anyone could have done it and the Colonel had no jurisdiction over what the trainees did now that basic training was over.

"Sorry, man," Mikey said, helping Zaen to his feet. Zaen shook his head, noticing that Asima had not moved from her spot on the floor. The pain on her face was too evident to ignore.

"You should apologize to Asima. It was her Qur'an."

Mikey mumbled an apology to her, but it didn't seem like she heard. Zaen didn't blame Mikey for his tendency to ignore Asima. Mikey had confessed that Asima intimidated him without even trying. Seeing her angry was the last thing he wanted.

"Hey," Zaen walked over to Asima, careful not to step on the bits on the floor, and pulled Asima to her feet. "Getting away from this place is the best thing for the two of us. I'll clean this up. You should go back and start packing."

"I'm not going home," she muttered, looking up at him. "I can't. So you go pack. I know how much you want to go home," she paused. "This is my mess. I'll deal with it."

Zaen didn't agree with what she said last, but nodded anyway. He was eager to go home.

"I'm trusting you're making the right decision," he said in low voice. When she didn't reply, Zaen sighed, took his washed clothes from the machine, and left.

It was the last time he spoke to Asima before he went home.

The first to welcome Zaen back was Sassy, meowing insistently to him. His mother had kissed him profusely, crying to see him again. Zaen's father was at work and didn't come home until it was very late and had fiercely hugged his son upon seeing him, teary-eyed.

Over a delicious supper, Zaen told them about what training was like, including Asima into his tale. His parents had exchanged looks at the mention of her, but understood his actions, despite that the two being so intimate was haraam.

During the week, Zaen mostly slept, catching up on his lack of sleep during the training. Often, he would wake up thinking he'd heard Asima's voice to call him to Fajr prayer. The clock would usually read 3am and he would stay up with Sassy until Fajr time came.

According to his mother, the week had gone too fast, and Zaen was obliged to go back to the Fort. He felt slightly torn at the idea of returning. Zaen didn't want to face whatever Scar (whom he did not mention to his parents) and the others like him would do next, but he also wanted to know how Asima was holding up. Was she okay by herself? Most of the guys had left. And the handful that stayed were like Mikey– intimidated by her.

But Zaen knew not to stress over it. Allah was helping them and this was their dream, whether the others got in their way or not.