From the Eyes of a Juror

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by Frank Terranova


  Chapter 46 – Saeed Kahn’s Vision

  Thursday morning June 12, 2008 – 11:35 AM

  Ironically enough, at the very moment that Frank Newlan’s spirit was being emotionally and systematically disemboweled by the all-consuming task of supplying the allegedly revenge-seeking John Breslin with an impartial jury of his peers, his neighbor, Saeed Kahn, was restlessly plotting his own revenge; revenge, not on a woman, revenge, not an unscrupulous wife-stealer, revenge, not even on a callous heretic, but revenge, rather, on a murderous, soulless country; a country that had cheated an entire world for far too long now. Revenge on a country that would provide a fair trial to such scum as the three horrible hubbies while at the same time holding his people in a state of indefinite detention without a second thought to due process. Revenge on a country that treated him like a second-class citizen. Revenge on a country that had turned its back on him in his time of need. Revenge on a country that had forsaken him in oh so many ways.

  Sure, Lady Liberty had smirked down on Saeed Kahn and seduced him with the lure of bright lights and big cities. Sure, Lady Liberty had turned him into a sinner with her saintly charm. Sure, Lady Liberty had tempestuously swallowed him up whole like a snake ingesting a rat. But then at the drop of a hat, Lady Liberty spit him out in little chunks and deserted him. She deserted him when his habits came due and they turned into addictions. She deserted him when his past came calling and it turned into his present. She deserted him like a barrel of trash that is placed in the gutter for the garbage-man to come and take away.

  But now, Saeed Kahn would make Lady Liberty pay; pay like a desperate junkie in debt to his dealer; pay like a condemned man at the mercy of an unforgiving firing squad; pay like an unrepentant whore on the verge of being stoned to death.

  At the very same moment that Frank Newlan and his colleagues were participating in the time-honored American tradition known as trial by jury, his trusty concierge, Saeed Kahn, was hatching a plan to inflict his own contrived brand of frontier justice on the lazy Yankees; a brand of justice where he would take the law into his own hands; a brand of justice where he, like many an enterprising law enforcement officer before him, would ultimately play the part of judge, jury and executioner.

  Saeed Kahn wanted his pound of flesh, and he was determined to get it; and if need be, he was determined to get it by any means possible. Regardless of whether the powers-that-be within his organization were willing or not, he was determined to get it in dramatic fashion.

  As Saeed Kahn sat at the security desk in the lobby of the Medford River Park Condominiums, staring into the security monitors, he proudly considered himself to be a man of power. But unlike Frank Newlan, he considered himself to be a man in complete control of his fate. Unlike Frank Newlan, he considered himself to be a man who could guarantee beyond a shadow of a doubt that everything would indeed turn out alright; for unlike Frank Newlan, he and his cohorts worshipped a God who smiled down upon them.

  Saeed Kahn was a faithful servant to his God, and as such, he blindly believed that his faith would be rewarded, no question about it; just as he blindly believed that the pagan god who protected the likes of Frank Newlan was merely a Devil in disguise, no debate necessary.

  And as the hopelessly mortal Saeed Kahn sat at the security desk in the lobby of the Medford River Park Condominiums, he may as well have been a King on his throne. He may as well have been a Dictator in his mansion. He may as well have been a Demon who laid claim to an honored seat at Lucifer’s table.

  And like a King, like a Dictator, like a Demon, Saeed Kahn understood that he must show no pity to the vanquished. Saeed Kahn understood that he must show no compassion to the conquered. Saeed Kahn understood that he must show no remorse for the eviscerated.

  In fact, if his magical plan was to succeed, Saeed Kahn understood that he must show no clemency whatsoever. Good and bad, young and old, innocent and guilty, women and children, they all must go down in flames.

  In Saeed Kahn’s world, mercy was considered to be a weakness, and he fully understood that he must show no leniency to the empty faces that flashed across his mind’s eye.

  And as Kahn dreamed his treacherous dreams, suddenly without warning, Frank Newlan’s blinding form appeared in his subconscious line of vision. Without any indication as to his intentions, Frank Newlan’s blazing aura assaulted Kahn’s icy senses. But regardless of Newlan’s motives, the interpretation of the wordlessly foreboding message was clear to Kahn nonetheless. Regardless of pretense, Kahn clearly discerned that his vulgar neighbor, whether intentionally or unintentionally, somehow possessed the power to jeopardize his master plan.

  Perhaps there is something to this mental telepathy the Frank Newlan so dearly believes in, perhaps not. But regardless of the reasoning behind Kahn’s apparition, the fact remains that at the very same moment Newlan’s mind was being hijacked by a strangely savage illusion which included Saeed Kahn in a featured role, Saeed Kahn’s thoughts, in turn, were focused in on him.

  Saeed Kahn’s thoughts were focused in on the drunken womanizer whose living quarters bordered his…and the mere preponderance of it made him want to take a vigorous shower in an effort to wash off the stench of Newlan’s disgusting habits.

  Kahn could clearly detect the auditory moans of sexual pleasure as the sins of the flesh took place on the other side of the wall. Kahn could clearly whiff the distinctly sweet aroma of marijuana wafting through the porous crevices that separated the two apartments. Kahn could clearly descry the intense immoral passion of the lovers almost mocking his presence. Kahn could practically touch the evil that he was being forced to behold, and it almost made him give in to temptation. In a split second, it almost made him want to revert back to the sinner that this country had turned him into. Ah, but a split second later he came to another conclusion. In a split second, Saeed Kahn decided that, like this God-forsaken country itself, his mission required him to shoot Frank Newlan down…shoot him back down into the burning hell from whence he came.

  Yes indeed, Saeed Kahn was momentarily startled by the ugly American face invading his personal space, and he wondered what his prescience was trying to tell him. It was very unclear to him, but one thing was certain in his mind; one way or another, when the time came, it was essential that Frank Newlan’s spirit be present amongst the damned. One way or another, when the time came, it was imperative that Frank Newlan’s soul be sacrificed. One way or another, when the time came, it was crucial that Frank Newlan’s body be chained to the altar of temple…when it was smashed into dust.

 

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