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The Fire and the Veil (Veronica Barry Book 2)

Page 10

by Sophia Martin


  “Hey Ve—Miss Barry,” Angie said. “Sorry, it’s hard to remember to call you that.”

  “It’s okay,” Veronica said with a dismissive wave. “Angie, you like animals, right?”

  “Duh,” Angie said. “You know I do.”

  “Okay. There’s a new club getting formed here at school, and they’re meeting at lunch in my room. You should come.”

  Angie frowned. “I don’t know…”

  “They’re all about animals,” Veronica powered on. “They want to do fundraisers to benefit shelters, and they want to go and do puppy walks at the mall…” She could tell that one caught Angie’s interest. “And I’m sure they’ll think of other things, too. I know at least one of the girls involved, and she’s very nice, Angie, you’ll like her.”

  Angie shifted in her seat and sucked in her top lip. With her thumb she started rubbing at some pencil marks on her lab table. “I don’t know, Veronica, I won’t know anyone…”

  “That’s exactly why I’m here talking to you about it. Just come today. If you don’t like it, I won’t bug you about it.”

  Angie sighed.

  “Cute fuzzy puppies, falling over themselves at the mall…” Veronica sing-songed.

  Angie rolled her head back on her shoulders and groaned. “Fine, I’ll try it out today. But I’m not promising I’ll join for good.”

  “Perfect!” Veronica exclaimed. “Now, I have to run. Have a good class.”

  “Sure, thanks,” Angie murmured just loud enough for Veronica to hear.

  ~~~

  The two sections of French I went by without too many glitches, despite Veronica’s nearly arriving late to the first of the two. It was a nightmare she had from time to time—although it had been much more frequent in her first year—that somehow she would be terribly late to class, and all the students would be standing in the otherwise empty hallway, waiting for her. In some versions a super was there with them, and the super would ask Veronica all sorts of awkward questions about where she’d been and why she was late, and in the dream she never had any good answers. In the worst versions it was the principal or a vice principal like Candleman instead of a super.

  She made it just under the wire, however, unlocking the door about a minute before the bell rang. It did not give her enough time to set up the board the way she liked, but she still managed to get them started on something while she got caught up. She sent the TA to do the copies and by the time the second section was filing in, she had achieved some semblance of organization.

  As the lunch bell rang and her students filed out, Shona and Regina appeared with a half a dozen other girls and two boys. Most Veronica didn’t know, but a couple took French.

  “Salut Mademoiselle Barry!” Shona called as they entered.

  “Salut Shona,” Veronica said. “You all do your thing. I’m going to try to get some grading done. Okay?”

  “Okay, Miss Barry. We don’t need you for anything,” Shona assured her.

  “Can we move the desks?” Regina asked. “Make a circle?”

  “Okay, but you have to have them back in perfect lines before lunch ends,” Veronica said, noting mentally that they were hardly in perfect lines now.

  “No problem,” Regina said.

  The group started dragging the desks, which made a terrible racket, so they could sit in a circle. Veronica watched them, wondering if Angie would make it. Then, just as the students moved the last desks to their spots, Veronica’s door opened and Angie peeked in.

  Shona, sharp girl that she was, noticed this and put two and two together right away. She further impressed Veronica by not letting on that she’d ever heard that Angie might join them.

  “Hey,” Shona said to Angie. “You hear about the meeting?”

  Angie’s eyes were wide. “Um, yeah,” she managed.

  “That’s cool. Come on in. We need all the help we can get.”

  Veronica wanted to hug Shona. Angie came in, looking awkward but pleased at the reception.

  “I’m Shona, this is Regina, Alicia, Dwayne, Paulina, Beatrice, Alex, Marshall, Frannie, and Jenny. Not that anyone could remember all those names. But just remember mine, I’m Shona. What’s your name?”

  “Angie. I know Alicia—we have French together.”

  Alicia nodded.

  “Awesome,” Shona said. “You know what this club is for, right?”

  “I, um, heard it was to do things for animals,” Angie said.

  “Exactly!” Shona exclaimed. “I love animals. I got the idea last weekend at the mall. You know how they have that thing where you can sign up to walk the puppies? Oh my god. There was this one little husky puppy—”

  “Girl, that puppy was so cute,” Regina chimed in.

  Angie nodded. “I love puppies.”

  “That’s why we’re all here,” Shona said. “I figure, we can go to the mall sometimes after school—I have track every day but Thursday and Friday—well, I have it before school on those days and sometimes there are meets, but most Thursdays and Fridays I’m free, and I thought we could all go and walk the puppies at the mall.”

  “Yeah, and I think it would be cool to do a fundraiser for money for like, the Humane Society,” Regina added.

  “And we could ask around and maybe do a community service project or something,” Shona said.

  “Sounds good,” Angie said.

  “Come and take a seat,” Shona told her. Everyone followed Shona’s lead and sat down. “The first thing we need to do is come up with a name. Then Regina and I brought construction paper and markers, and we can make some signs to put up in the halls so if anyone else wants to join, they can. Miss Barry?”

  Veronica had been watching the whole time, and she remembered she was supposed to be grading when Shona called her name. Veronica shuffled some papers on her desk quickly. “Um, yes?” she answered.

  “It’s okay if we come in here at lunch every Tuesday, right?”

  Veronica thought about that for a moment, but seeing Angie crack half a grin was enough for her. “Sure,” she said.

  “And you know, we kind of need a teacher to make the club official. Would you sign off on the form?”

  Somehow, Veronica had known this was coming. She didn’t really have time to supervise a club, and if she did try to make time for one, shouldn’t it be a French club? “I don’t know, Shona…”

  “Oh please, Miss Barry?” Angie said.

  Veronica raised her eyebrows. Well, if Angie was feeling committed already… She sighed. “Okay.” Angie broke into a genuine smile. The light of it burned away any misgivings in Veronica’s mind. She smiled back. “You guys know I love animals,” she said.

  “Now,” Shona said, turning back to the group. “We need a name.”

  “I think we should be the ‘Furry Heroes,’” Regina put in.

  “Girl, what did we talk about?” Shona said.

  “Wait, let’s just see what they say,” Regina said, giving Shona a significant look.

  “I don’t know,” said one of the boys. “No offense, Regina, but it just kind of sounds… wrong.”

  “Yeah, like we’re like all hairy or something,” a girl said.

  Shona turned to Regina in triumph. “See?”

  Veronica felt her cell phone go off in her pocket. She pulled it out. The display said “Khalilah Jadeed.”

  “Hello,” she said softly.

  “Veronica? Am I interrupting a class?” Khalilah asked. “The website says you’re on lunch at this time—I can call back—”

  “No, it’s lunch, I just have a club meeting in my room. It’s okay.”

  “Oh, good then. I found out which mosque the Ahmads attend,” Khalilah said. “It’s not surprising, it’s the one closest to the Islamic Center. It’s the Masjid Al-Taqwa, on 27th street. It’s just a little house, really, but they have a separate room for the women to worship.”

  “That might work,” Veronica said, glancing around to see if any of the students were listening. They s
eemed oblivious to her.

  “When are you done today? Are you available to go over there?” Khalilah asked.

  “I’ll be available as soon as lunch is done, actually.”

  “Alright. I’m going to call the office and have them find someone to cover my afternoon periods. I’m developing a migraine as we speak.”

  “Will that be okay?”

  “Veronica, I cannot tell you how many times I’ve given up a prep period to cover a colleague’s class, when they had to leave for some reason in the middle of the day. They can return the favor. I can’t just stand here like there isn’t a chance we could find this girl, save her from whatever she’s going through at the hands of the person who abducted her—no. We have to try to find her as soon as possible.”

  “Alright, that sounds good,” Veronica said. “I’ll be done in about twenty-five minutes. I have no car.”

  “I’ll pick you up.”

  Veronica gave her ERHS’s address and hung up. Listening to the students revealed that they were no closer to agreeing on a name. She was just about to start organizing her grading into piles so she could take it with her when her cell phone went off again. This time the display said “Daniel Seong.”

  “Hey,” she said into the phone.

  “Hey,” he answered, his voice warm. “How’s your day going?”

  “Fine so far,” Veronica said. “Yours?”

  “Pretty good,” he said. “In fact, I’m out early. Cooper and Pushkin wanted to switch shifts so Pushkin can go to her daughter’s dance recital tomorrow night.”

  “Nice,” Veronica said, but she was already starting to chew on her lower lip. She knew what was coming.

  “So I was thinking, you up for a lunch date? I could be there to pick you up in ten minutes.”

  Veronica grimaced. “I wish I could, but I’m meeting Khalilah in less than a half an hour.”

  “Khalilah? Jadeed?”

  “That’s the one.”

  “Why are you meeting with her? Have you heard from her since you ran into her on Friday?”

  Veronica began drawing little circles intersecting on the cover of a notepad she kept on her desk. This was no good, she fretted. She didn’t want to explain to Daniel about the Ahmads. He wasn’t going to like her getting involved. “Um,” she said, stalling for time. “Oh, I ended up having tea with her yesterday afternoon. She called me.”

  “What? Why didn’t you tell me this?”

  “We haven’t spoken since Sunday.”

  “I left you two voicemails, Ronnie. You could have called back.”

  “I’m sorry! It’s just that this week is extra busy—”

  “I know, grading is due. But you have time to meet with Khalilah… twice?”

  “Turns out she needed my help with something,” Veronica said, hoping he’d leave it at that.

  Daniel was a homicide detective. He never left it at that. “That explains the apology,” he said. “What does she need your help for?”

  Veronica shot an imploring look at the heavens. “Nothing big, just this thing for her school. She’s coming to pick me up in a few minutes, Daniel. I have to get my things together.”

  “Oh,” Daniel said.

  He’s going to get sick of me blowing him off, Veronica thought. “How about after?” she said. “I don’t think it will take that long. How about we meet up at Penny Coffee, at, say, five? We could have an early dinner. I’ll buy!”

  Daniel chuckled. “Sounds good to me.”

  “Awesome. Okay, Daniel, I have to get going.”

  “Right. See you at five.”

  Veronica hung up.

  “All in favor of the name, ‘Paw Prints for Change,’ raise your hand,” Shona was saying. Four hands went up. “All in favor of ‘Furry Heroes.” Only Regina raised her hand. She glared at the others. “All in favor of ‘All About Animals.’” At least eight hands went up. “‘All About Animals’ wins,” Shona announced.

  “I still think it’s weird for it to be AAA, like the car insurance,” Regina muttered.

  “Majority rules,” Shona said. “Good name, Angie.”

  Veronica looked at Angie in surprise. She was smiling widely, looking happier than Veronica had seen her look in a long time. Well, at least one good thing had happened so far today.

  Chapter 9

  Khalilah drove a red hybrid Honda sedan. Veronica sat in the passenger seat and put on the seatbelt. “Thanks for doing this,” Khalilah said as they left the school’s parking lot.

  “I just hope I get something,” Veronica said.

  “Me, too.”

  The mosque was only seven blocks away. Khalilah pulled up in front of it. Only the medium-sized wooden sign in front of it identified it as a mosque—otherwise it looked like a small house. The outer walls were covered in yellow paneling. The windows had white trim. On the far side of the front lawn, a man was pushing a mower. Other than a cap on his head, he was dressed like any other person. It looked very bland and ordinary. Veronica wasn’t sure what she had been expecting, but this was not it. Perhaps she’d expected something with more of middle eastern feel. Turrets, perhaps? Minarets? The Taj Mahal? Veronica laughed at herself silently.

  They got out of the car and walked to the front door. Khalilah held the door and allowed Veronica to precede her. A man sat in an office on the side of the entryway, his door ajar. He saw Veronica come in and stood, making his way over. Veronica was not prepared for this—what was she supposed to say? That she was thinking of converting?

  “Hello, Nasir,” Khalilah said to the man.

  “Khalilah, always a pleasure,” he responded. He was wearing a collared shirt and a navy sweater-vest and khaki pants. He also wore a little cap like the one the man mowing the lawn did. “Is this the teacher you mentioned?”

  “Nasir, Veronica Barry,” Khalilah said with a nod. “Veronica, Nasir Moshar.”

  “How many mosques have you visited so far?” Nasir asked.

  “This is our first,” Khalilah said. “But we have four more to see this afternoon. I told Nasir about your interest in taking your students to see a mosque, Veronica.” Khalilah smiled at the man.

  It would have been nice to know the cover story in advance, Veronica thought, but she simply smiled as well.

  “Well, if you plan to make it to all of the mosques, you’d better move along,” Nasir said, returning their smiles. “I explained to Khalilah that I prefer it if you only look through the doorway at the men’s musalla, miss.”

  “Yes, that’s fine,” Veronica said. “I’ll just get an idea.”

  Nasir led them to the door directly opposite the front door and opened it. Veronica made a show of looking around inside. The room was bare. The floor was wood, and there were small rugs rolled up and stacked on the side of one wall. There was also a stack of chairs in one corner. Along the opposite wall were several low wooden bookshelves with red-bound books. Veronica couldn’t make out the titles, but she guessed it was a set of Qur’ans. At the front of the room there was a plain wooden podium.

  She turned and nodded at Nasir and Khalilah.

  “You’re welcome to spend as much time as you like in the women’s prayer room,” Nasir said. “It’s this way.” They went through a short corridor, and Nasir opened a door into a room almost as large as the first one. “I only ask that you remove your shoes, please.” He indicated an empty shoe rack that stood just outside the door.

  Veronica slipped off her flats and Khalilah did the same with the low pumps she wore.

  “Do you have any questions?” Nasir asked.

  Veronica racked her brain for something to ask. “Um, do you have a very homogenous congregation?” she managed.

  “I don’t understand,” Nasir said.

  “Well, I mean, everyone who comes here to worship. Are they all from similar backgrounds?”

  “Oh, I see. No. We have people from very different backgrounds. Very diverse. Many of the families who come to Masjid Al-Taqwa have been doing so sinc
e it was first founded in 1974. The masjid—that is the Arabic word for mosque, you understand—was founded by Pakistanis and immigrants from other parts of the world. We had a different facility back then. We moved from east Sacramento in 1989, you know. But we also have many refugees. In the nineties we got many from Sub-Saharan Africa. Somalia, Ethiopia. But also Bosnia, and other eastern European countries. After that, there were many from Russia, especially Chechnya. And now we have many from Iraq. I, myself, am from Kashmir, in South Asia. The Islamic world is very large and diverse.”

  “Yes, I see,” Veronica said, nodding. She stepped through the door into the women’s prayer room, willing Khalilah to keep Nasir occupied so Veronica could go about trying to have a vision. She didn’t have much control over what she did when one came on, and she hoped she didn’t do anything that would alarm him.

  “Nasir, may I ask, I didn’t see anything like a mihrab anywhere,” Khalilah said.

  “Yes, when this house was chosen as a new site at the end of the eighties, there were those who didn’t care for it, since it lacks a mihrab and anything that could be converted into one,” Nasir explained. He turned to Veronica. “The mihrab, miss, is usually an indentation in a masjid’s wall; it marks the direction of Mecca.”

  “I’ve seen more modern interpretations of mihrabs,” Khalilah said, eyeing Veronica, who gave her a look of helplessness, holding her palms up briefly when Nasir’s focus was on Khalilah. “Let me show you my thought,” Khalilah said, taking Nasir’s arm and guiding him back toward the front of the building. “You can spare us for a moment, can’t you, Veronica?”

  “Sure,” Veronica said, letting out her breath in relief.

  Khalilah and Nasir’s voices faded down the hall. Veronica turned and looked around the room. It, too, had rolled up rugs on one side and shelves of books on the other. Sure enough, now that she could step closer, she saw that the books were Qur’ans. She chose one and opened it. It had Arabic on one side and English on the other. She placed it back on the shelf.

 

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