Nazzer- Little mecca

"DAMN IT!"

We watched the television and watched as the rich little asshole got off again. Didn't they know that they just made life harder for everyone? I looked at my father, who's hands were clenched in rage.

"Nothing good will come from this."

I looked back on the screen, please don't talk about Allah, come on for once in your life you stupid, spoiled shit, please.

"And he's fucking doing that."

The imam was going to have a fit, he's been talking about how hypocrites do more to harm Islam then even it's worst outside enemies, he's been preaching about driving more carefully, being more responsibile and most people listen. Except the same couple of dozen idiots who go out in their fancy cars and floor it. Allah help us, it's been the same stupidity from the same families for the last, what, 7 years.

At the very least we turned over the idiot who smuggled in the 40's into the city, because that was a fucking brilliant decision, and huh death by Lung, father nodded his head.

"Good."

"Um dad?"

"He killed a baby, he brought shame unto our entire community, he brought shame onto his family, he brought shame onto our religion, and he tried to invoke Allah to make himself look like some sort of holy man."

Dad paused.

"A death for a death. This is fair, with this there will be peace, let us pray this doesn't happen agian."

"But it will and we all know who's going to do it."

Dad looked away.

"I don't know."

"The nine families dad."

"They got us out of there, got us to america, got us this place to live, these walls."

"Are a prison! Every time things start calming down another incident happens and we're back to square one. Back to not being able to leave these walls because we're afraid, back to needing their protection."

"Son-"

"They're doing this to control us father, you know it, I know it, everyone knows it. We're just their toys and every time it looks like we might be able to get out they do something so everything clamps down."

"You can't prove that, and yes they lack wisdom but..."

He slumped.

"I just wanted to protect you, I just wanted all of you to have a better life. I just wanted to bake bread and give you that bakery when I was old and grey. I'm sorry, I didn't know this would happen."

The two of us sat there, the TV was muted. Suddenly there was a knock at the door and father opened it. The Imam stood there, his face contorted with rage.

"There's going to be a funeral... there are invitations but I know that it's going to be a small one. Just family, I hope you understand that."

Dad stared at him.

"I'm afraid I am simply to busy with work to go to a funeral."

He gave my father a hug.

"You're a good man, and your boy?"

I looked up.

"I have to help dad bake the bread."

"A good boy, I expect to see you in the mosque on friday, we're going to have a long conversation about justice, about hypocrisy, about a lot of things."

Dad nodded.

"But won't-"

"I serve Allah, not money, Allah, and I'm not afraid to remind some people of that fact. I'm going to have a few more personal conversations like this, to make sure that the message gets out."

Father stood up straighter, more self-assured.

"Take care."

The Imam nodded his head, his face still angry.

"Allah willing, this nonsense will stop."

Father closed the door and we sat next to each other.

"If anything happens I love you son."

I put my arm around his shoulders.

"I love you too."