by Umm Zakiyyah
Jacob forced laughter. “I don’t think there’s a chance I’ll forget that.”
“Okay, then,” Benjamin said, laughter in his voice. “As-salaamu’alaikum wa-rahmatullaah.”
“Wa’alaiku-mus-salaam wa-rahmatullaahi wa-barakaatuh.”
***
Aliyah arrived to the masjid at a quarter to ten Saturday morning. As she entered the musallaa, she told Ibrahim to pray two units of prayer before sitting down and waiting for her in the front section of the prayer area that was reserved for brothers. She watched as Ibrahim walked swiftly to a space near the mimbar and raised his small hands as if in surrender, signaling the start of prayer. Aliyah smiled to herself then silently recited a du’aa that Allah would bless her son and preserve him upon Islam. She then walked to the sisters’ area and prayed two rak’aat herself. After praying, she sat down in the section where there was no partition so she could see Ibrahim while she waited for Jasmine.
There were about fifteen men and women scattered throughout the musallaa reading Qur’an and praying. It had been months since Aliyah had come to the masjid herself, and she was surprised at how peaceful she felt. She had imagined that she would never again feel comfortable in the masjid after the “hot Muslim mistress” rumors were spread about her. Oddly, since the moment she’d offered to meet Jasmine here, she had thought nothing about the rumors. But even now, as she remembered everything she’d gone through, she didn’t feel anxious or ashamed. She felt only relaxed and at ease, as if she were returning home after a long absence.
A shadow of a smile lingered on Aliyah’s face as she saw Ibrahim shake the hands of two older brothers who had been reading Qur’an. He then walked over to the small floor shelf and removed an English translation of the Qur’an before sitting down and reading himself. The scene touched a soft spot in Aliyah, and there was a twinge of sadness that she hadn’t thought of her son when she’d made the decision to stay away from the masjid. Ibrahim wouldn’t always be a little boy, she thought to herself. One day he would be a young man, and he’d need the company of Muslim brothers to help him hold on to his faith.
“Aliyah?”
Aliyah was removing the small Arabic-English Qur’an that she kept in her purse when she felt someone standing near her. She looked up to find Juwayriah looking down at her with an expression of confusion. An awkward smile formed on Aliyah’s face. “As-salaamu’alaikum,” Aliyah said as she set the Qur’an on her lap and reached up to shake Juwayriah’s hand.
“Wa’alaiku-mus-salaam wa-rahmatullaah,” Juwayriah said, her handgrip loose and reluctant. “What are you doing here?”
The question sounded like a rebuke, and for a fleeting moment, Aliyah felt offended. But the feeling passed as quickly as it had come. Though the inquiry was ostensibly rude, Aliyah sensed that Juwayriah hadn’t meant it that way. In that moment, Aliyah was reminded of her sister, Cassie, who was uncomfortable with open displays of kindness and affection. Perhaps Juwayriah too masked her vulnerability behind grimaces and harsh criticism. Perhaps she too felt the need to carry herself like she had it altogether, while she was fragile and insecure like everyone else.
Why hadn’t Aliyah noticed that before? It was confounding how someone who once seemed so overpowering and threatening suddenly appeared so tenuously human.
“I’m waiting for someone,” Aliyah said. She paused before adding, “You?”
“Girl, I’m here almost every day,” Juwayriah said, waving her hand dismissively, a mixture of a smirk and a frown forming on her face. Aliyah sensed that Juwayriah was attempting to be friendly, as if to tell Aliyah she no longer harbored ill feelings.
“You know you don’t have to be a stranger,” Juwayriah added, lighthearted teasing in her tone. She kneeled until she was eyelevel with Aliyah so that her voice wouldn’t carry throughout the musallaa. “Nikki told me you’re still upset about all that Facebook drama.” She rolled her eyes and waved a hand. “But girl, it ain’t that deep.”
Aliyah’s lips formed a thin line in an effort to maintain a smile. While it was comforting to know that Juwayriah had a conscience, it was troubling that she wouldn’t take full responsibility for her actions. It reminded Aliyah of high school, when attempts by bullies to make amends were merely alternate forms of castigation. “Why you gotta be like that?” they would rebuke those who avoided them. “Ain’t nobody thinking about you like that.”
Now, in the social media age, bullying took the form of blatant or passive aggression via online posts and tweets. On the rare occasions that bullies actually acknowledged wrongdoing, they made light of it by painting those they harmed as overly sensitive or paranoid. And like Juwayriah’s “it ain’t that deep,” they favored condescending dismissiveness over contrite apology. Why is it always the ones inflicting the harm that trivialize the extent of the wound? Aliyah often wondered.
“Well…” Aliyah said to Juwayriah, “if it’s on the record that the angels record for us, it is that deep.” She offered Juwayriah a closed-lipped smile, purposefully shifting blame back to where it rightfully belonged. “At least to Allah,” she added, surprised and pleased by the frankness with which she spoke.
Juwayriah coughed laughter. “Girl, I’m not getting into all that,” she said, smirking. But Aliyah could tell Juwayriah was more embarrassed than amused. “I’m just saying we moved on, so you should too.”
Yes, of course, Aliyah thought to herself in amusement. Bullies also dictate how long you can hurt—while there were no time limits or conditions on their self-assigned prerogative to “call people out,” even on things as petty as grammar and communication skills.
“So no more Facebook posts?” Aliyah asked, raising her eyebrows as if in pleasant surprise.
Juwayriah twisted her lips to the side, lighthearted humor in that gesture. “I don’t know about all that,” she said, a hint of sass in her tone. “I still got my opinions. You know how it is.”
Aliyah smiled knowingly. “And I still got my feelings,” she said.
Self-righteous, the term came to Aliyah right then. That was probably the description that Juwayriah and her friends would adopt for her from now on. Aliyah’s refusal to accept Nikki’s botched apology, compounded with Aliyah mentioning to Juwayriah the Book of Deeds and her right to her feelings, would almost certainly earn her the label that had been effectively coined by people who wronged others. Reminders about their souls didn’t inspire self-reflection or temper their dismissiveness of wrongdoing; the reminders merely incited their insistence on shifting blame to the ones they harmed.
“Girl, you a trip,” Juwayriah said, friendly teasing in her tone. But Aliyah could tell it was Juwayriah’s way of evading the issue.
“What’s Deeja up to these days?” Juwayriah said, changing the subject. “I keep calling her, but her phone is off. I don’t see her on Facebook anymore.”
“I don’t know…” Aliyah said, casting her eyes to the side. “I haven’t heard from her either.”
“Well, if you see her, tell her I’m trying to reach her,” Juwayriah said.
“Okay,” Aliyah said, opening up the small Qur’an on her lap and turning to the page in Surah Al-Baqarah where she had last read.
Juwayriah rolled her eyes playfully. “But let me get out of here,” she said, standing. “I’m supposed to be helping with this new Muslim class.”
“It’s today?” Aliyah asked curiously, looking up from the Qur’an. The last time Aliyah had heard anything about the class was a year ago, and she had been hoping that the class was still Saturday mornings.
Juwayriah glanced at her watch. “It’s supposed to start at eleven,” she said.
“You might have a new student today,” Aliyah said, grinning.
“Who?” Juwayriah said, creasing her forehead.
“It’s a new sister named Jasmine,” Aliyah said. “Or Yasmeen, as she calls herself now.”
Juwayriah raised an eyebrow. “Larry’s Jasmine?” It was odd hearing Juwayriah mention Larry’s name, but
then Aliyah recalled that Juwayriah had been at the restaurant when Aliyah herself met Larry for the first time.
Aliyah drew her eyebrows together, not wanting to reveal that she knew about Larry and Jasmine. “Larry’s Jasmine?” she repeated as if in confusion.
Juwayriah waved her hand, a grin on her face as if enjoying a private joke. “Never mind,” she said, turning and walking away. “Insha’Allah, I’ll talk to you later,” she said, glancing over her shoulder.
After Juwayriah left, Aliyah looked toward where Ibrahim was sitting and found that he was in an animated conversation with a few older brothers, who seemed to be enjoying the banter. Aliyah smiled to herself then picked up the Qur’an and started reading the Arabic and then the English.
And of mankind is one whose speech about this world’s life may dazzle you, and he calls God to witness about what is in his heart; yet he is the most contentious of enemies. When he turns his back, his aim everywhere is to spread mischief through the earth and destroy crops and cattle. But God loves not mischief. And when it is said to him, “Fear Allah,” he is led by arrogance to [more] crime. Enough for him is Hell, and worst indeed is that place to rest.
“O Allah, protect me and forgive me,” Aliyah muttered a silent prayer as she reflected on how easy it was to respond to reminders about Allah and the Hereafter with arrogance.
And of mankind is one who dedicates himself to seeking the pleasure of God, and God is full of kindness to [His] servants.
“O Allah, make me amongst them,” Aliyah prayed.
O you who believe! Enter into Islam wholeheartedly, and—
Aliyah’s cell phone rang and vibrated, and she immediately set the Arabic-English Qur’an on her lap and reached for her purse, embarrassed that she’d forgotten to turn off the ringer before entering the musallaa. Aliyah rummaged for the phone and pulled it out before it could ring a third time. A number appeared on the display that she didn’t recognize, and Aliyah assumed it was Jasmine’s since she had not saved Jasmine’s information in her contact list.
“Hello?” Aliyah whispered as she put the phone to her ear and ducked her head so that her voice wouldn’t carry throughout the prayer area.
“Salaams! I’m here,” a cheerful female voice said. “Where do I go?”
***
I can’t marry him
Can’t now or can’t ever?
Can’t now
Why not?
Bc it’s too much to deal w right now
When would be better?
Idk. Maybe 5 or 10 yrs
5 or 10yrs?!
Or 3 maybe
What would change your mind?
What do u mean?
If everything worked out how u wanted, how would it look?
Deanna is fine & the boys r happy
And if Deanna is never fine?
[sad face emoticon]
It’s OK to think of yourself, Ally
I know but it’s hard
Do u like Jacob?
Yes
Enough to marry him?
Yes but it could never work
Allah knows best
Yes He does and I think this is best
U sure?
Yes
OK
But I think J will make a woman really happy one day [happy face emoticon]
I wish that could be u
Me too
But?
LOL, Uncle B. But life happens. We already talked about this
OK Ally. I’ll tell him isA
Thanx
Yw
Jacob frowned thoughtfully at the mobile display from where he sat at the kitchen table in Larry’s home. He set down the phone on the table next to him and continued eating the tuna sandwich in silence while he waited for Younus and Thawab to finish a video game they were playing.
“Visiting that woman ruined your day, huh?”
Tuna sandwich still in hand, Jacob turned and saw that Larry had entered the kitchen. A smirk was on Larry’s face as he opened the refrigerator and removed an apple before joining Jacob at the table.
Jacob made a weak attempt at a smile as he set his sandwich on the glass plate in front of him. “No, I’m just thinking about Aliyah.”
Larry exhaled in a single breath, as if to indicate that the topic was weighty. “Good luck with that, man.” He shook his head then took a generous bit of his apple.
“I think I’m going to need more than luck,” Jacob said in lighthearted humor. “She thinks marrying me will complicate her life.”
Cheeks bulging as he chewed, Larry shrugged. “She’s right,” he said, his voice slightly muffled. He chewed and swallowed before adding, “But it’s worth it, so I think she’ll marry you eventually. Aliyah’s a smart girl. She’s not going to let you go.”
Jacob coughed laughter. “She already did,” he said. “Twice.”
“You know how women are,” Larry said, gesturing dismissively with the partially eaten apple in hand. “They keep saying no, hoping you’ll convince them to say yes.” He shook his head as if amused before taking another generous bite of his apple.
“I don’t think so, man,” Jacob said sincerely. “Or at least not a woman like Aliyah. If she says no, she means it.”
Larry nodded as he chewed, his expression suggesting that he was genuinely considering what Jacob had said. “Maybe…” he said finally. “Aliyah isn’t your average woman.”
“No she’s not,” Jacob agreed reflectively.
“But you’re not your average man either,” Larry said. “So you both can come up with something that works for the both of you.”
“Insha’Allah,” Jacob added, but he didn’t sound optimistic.
“Insha’Allah,” Larry agreed.
There was an extended silence as Jacob finished his tuna sandwich and Larry his apple.
“So what’s up with you and Jasmine?” Jacob wiped the palms of his hands together, removing breadcrumbs from his hands. “You’re getting married, now that she’s Muslim?”
Larry angled his shoulders so that he could see behind him, then holding the apple core, he lifted a hand as if preparing for a jump shot and released the core toward the open trashcan. Hand bent at the wrist for the follow-through, he watched as it landed in the bin with a soft thud. “Nope,” Larry said matter-of-factly, turning back around to face Jacob.
Jacob’s eyebrows rose in surprise, and a confused grin formed on his face. “You serious?”
“As a heart attack,” Larry said.
“Why the change of heart?”
Larry pulled his head back in surprise. “Change of heart? Who said I ever wanted to marry her?”
Jacob lifted a shoulder in a shrug. “I don’t know…” he said. “I guess I just assumed.”
“You know what they say about assuming?” Larry asked in friendly banter, a humored grin creasing one side of his mouth.
Jacob laughed. “I think I do, bro.”
“But seriously, man,” Larry said after a few seconds, his voice subdued and reflective, “I don’t trust her.”
Jacob was silent for several seconds, as if lost in thought. “Because of what Mom and Dad asked her to do?” he said, a somber expression on his face.
“I don’t know…” Larry contorted his face, as if finding difficulty expressing what was on his mind. “She’s just too eager, you know?”
“In what respect?”
Larry grimaced. “To get married,” he said. “But she was like that before I became Muslim, and it was annoying even then.”
Jacob shrugged nonchalantly. “She loves you, man. What do you expect?”
An expression of distaste lingered on Larry’s face. “It doesn’t feel like love,” he said.
“Really?” Jacob said, growing concerned at his brother’s sentiments. “On her part, or yours?”
“Both, I guess,” Larry said. “She’s been talking to Mom about joining the business, and it makes me uncomfortable. I feel like she loves what I can offer her more than
she loves me.”
Jacob huffed as if he’d never considered the possibility.
“So I don’t know, man,” Larry said, slight frustration in his voice. “And now she’s suddenly Muslim when she realizes I’m not willing to marry a non-Muslim or give up my religion?”
“Most people go through a mental tug-of-war before they accept Islam,” Jacob said reflectively. “I know I did.” He lifted a shoulder in a shrug. “So maybe she just finally gave in. Becoming Muslim isn’t an easy decision.”
“But she was trying to get me to denounce Islam, man,” Larry said, his face pinched in distaste.
“Benjamin’s wife did the same thing,” Jacob said. “But they’re still married.”
Larry grunted. “Benjamin was married for years before he even thought about Islam.”
Jacob nodded. “That’s true.”
“I was never convinced I should marry Jazzy in the first place,” Larry said, his eyes distant and conveying disappointment as he shook his head. “She never really felt like ‘the one,’ if you know what I mean.”
“I thought you really cared about her.”
“I do…” Larry said. Several seconds passed in silence before the shadow of a smile formed on his face, suggesting he was about to make a wry joke. “But what’s love got to do with it?”
Jacob chuckled. “Well, if you ask the world,” he said, “everything.”
Larry huffed and shook his head, the beginning of a grin on his face. “I don’t believe that.”
Jacob’s lips formed a thin line, unsure how to respond. He was thinking of Aliyah.
“I just can’t picture her as the mother of my children,” Larry said, frowning doubtfully. “That can’t be good.”
“People change…” Jacob offered.
“Not really,” Larry said. “We are who we are. The only thing you can change is whether or not you’ll end up in Hellfire at the end of it.”
Jacob drew his eyebrows together as if perplexed. “You don’t think Islam changes people for the better?”
“It changes people for the better,” Larry said tentatively. “So that’s why I mentioned the whether you end up in Hellfire part,” he said. “But it doesn’t change people.”
