Islam Rising

by Johnny Jacks

  Grayson twirled his bottle on the table. “Yes and no.”

  “You’re confused, alright.”

  “My feelings for Laura are very strong, and I think we might be happily married. You’ll think I’m nuts but I’m willing to wait for the other woman. She draws me in to her in a way that defies logic. I can’t be married to one woman while another is constantly on my mind.”

  “I know you well, Grayson, and you’re not nuts. You’re apparently in love on a level that few men attain. I know. It’s what I feel for Yolanda. If you want to wait completely on the sideline and not interfere with this woman and her husband, I think that’s half okay, but coveting another man’s wife is wrong, no matter how long you wait.”

  “I shoved this thing down so deep, I thought it was over. I’ve tried for well over seven years to turn it off. You’re right, Mark. I can’t do anything to bring about the separation between her and her husband. Not one single thing.”

  The two sat in worried silence before Grayson spoke. “If their separation was by my hand, it would dilute our relationship and haunt me until I died.”

  Mark studied his surroundings, the table, his bottle, and finally faced Grayson. “Is this why you’re back in Houston?”

  Grayson nodded.

  Mark pointed the bottom of his bottle toward Grayson. “Then you may have already made your decision. You here to see her?”

  “I’m between a rock and a hard place. I can’t leave, and I can’t see her. Maybe after a few years, I’ll view her in another light and move on. For now, I have to do this.” Thinking of what Laura had told him, he continued. “It controls me, I don’t control it.”

  “Are you really willing to wait, perhaps for years, maybe forever, for her to become widowed or divorced and forego your happy relationship with Laura? You’re taking a big chance if you see her. It’ll place you right in the middle of something ugly.”

  “That’s exactly why I needed to talk this out. Hearing it out loud makes me realize how much trouble I’m in and may get into…or cause others.”

  “Grayson, don’t make me lose faith in your integrity and be disappointed in you.” Mark hoped his challenge would stick with Grayson and help him to stay on the straight and narrow.

  “I won’t disappoint you.”

  “You’re notorious for breaking the rules, Grayson.”

  Mark’s bite at his character stung Grayson. “I’ll toe the line; don’t worry about me. There’s something else, something I can’t put my finger on, like a force pushing at me that has nothing to do with the woman.”

  “For your sake and hers, I hope you resist the urge to break your own rules, to say nothing about Jesus’ teachings. You’re on thin ice.” Mark shook his head and blew out hot air. “Welcome home to Houston, my friend.” He held his beer up for a toast and Grayson followed suit. “Here’s to success in the resuscitation of your love life.”

  “Hear! Hear!” Grayson exclaimed.

  “All this talk has made me hungry,” Mark hinted jokingly.

  Grayson got Conrad’s attention. “Hey, barkeep! Two more Heinekens, please, and a couple of thick T-bones, medium rare, with loaded baked potatoes. The guy looks like a scumbag but cooks the best steaks in town.”

  Chapter 43

  What Am I Doing?

  Year 9

  “Mr. Dean, we’ve toured every home on the market in this neighborhood, but none are to your liking. Many homes in similar neighborhoods in Houston meet your specifications. I’ll take you back to your hotel, and if you are amenable, we can check out some of those tomorrow.”

  No other neighborhood would put him close enough to Shannon that he could casually monitor her long enough to determine his next step.

  “I told you before that I’m not interested in other neighborhoods.” It’s time to dump this ignorant jackass. “I’ll continue to search the Internet and call you if I find what I’m looking for.”

  Grayson had plenty of time; he would wait until the right house came available in Shannon’s neighborhood. After meeting with Mark and Father O’Brian, he established rules for himself, some not in accord with the church. Get close enough to observe her, keep a safe distance, stay hidden, and avoid interfering with her life. He would gather information on her personal situation over time. If she was happy, he would sell and move on, wherever on might be.

  As he drove to Gatlin’s BBQ, he tried to convince himself that he wanted a house in that upscale neighborhood to conceal his research on Murtadha. “If you’re going to talk to yourself, at least be honest. You love another man’s wife and wish she would split from him. How are you going to hide from Shannon if you live in her neighborhood? Maybe you can get a disguise like the one she used to wear. Fool. Daniel’s right; I’m a raging egomaniac. I’m an asshole who always has to have my own way.”

  A delicious pulled-pork dinner and three glasses of iced tea later, he mulled over his situation and took a leisurely drive through Shannon’s neighborhood. Maybe he would be lucky enough to get a quick glimpse of her. As he passed the cul de sac where Shannon’s home was located, he saw a real estate agent hammering a for-sale sign in front of the property to the right of her house.

  Was it an omen? Is it against the rules? How could it be against my own rules? I’ll regret it forever if I don’t at least check it out.

  He parked in the driveway and approached the agent. “Hi. I’m Grayson Dean. I’ve been looking for a home in this neighborhood.”

  “Hi. I’m Gloria. Buy this house tonight, and it’ll be the quickest sale I ever made.” She gave him her best real estate smile. “I just got this listing a half hour ago. It has five bedrooms, each with its own bath. Do you have a large family?”

  “No, I’m a…a widower and live solo.”

  “Sorry. You have my condolences.”

  “Thanks, but it was a long time ago.”

  Her curiosity peaked, she had to ask, “Why do you want such a large and expensive home for just one? Wouldn’t a small bachelor pad be more practical?”

  “Upscale homes bring a better return when you sell them. And what if I marry a woman with ten kids?” he joked, to keep Gloria from asking him additional personal questions. Stay off the radar, dummy.

  She laughed. “That would be a hoot. You’ll like this deal then. It’s a bank repo, marked down for a quick sale as is. They will not make any repairs or negotiate the price. You want a quick tour?”

  Gloria pointed out the features, and Grayson fought the conflicts bouncing from one corner of his head to another as they walked through the house. He knew he should run away as fast as possible, but he couldn’t budge. Damn Mark and his warning not to break the rules. They’re my rules, not his. I’ll do whatever the hell I please!

  After going through every room and checking everything that could be a problem, and there were many, Grayson did not hesitate. “Well, Gloria, this house needs a lot of small repairs. That’ll keep me busy for a while, but that’s okay. Let’s make this the quickest home you’ve ever sold. Put the sign back in your car and let’s work up a contract.”

  “Are you always this impulsive?” Her tone told Grayson she thought he was shining her on, didn’t have a dime to his name.

  “I’ve lived my life mostly in impulse mode. It feels right to me but drives others crazy.”

  “I hope you don’t think I’m prying into your personal business too much, but I have the feeling there’s more to this.” Grayson was enjoying talking with the easygoing stranger. He liked her straightforward approach. Other than Shannon and Laura, he’d never had a personal conversation with a woman other than Margaret.

  “Of course there is. For one thing, I’m a prepper and—”

  “Sorry for interrupting, but do you mean one of those doomsday guys I saw on the National Geographic channel?”

  Grayson laughed. “We don’t use the term doomsday.” Repeating what Ramirez told him years ago. “It carries negative connotations that real preppers don’t care for.”
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br />   “So, you’re willing to put big money in a home that may become useless and have no value some day?”

  “Think about that for a second. I have the money to pay cash for this house. Suppose the country experiences a collapse the day after closing and everything’s in a state of absolute anarchy. This house and everybody’s money will be worthless. So, why should I not enjoy life today? Worrying about the future is wasted energy for those of us prepared for it.”

  He could see Gloria’s wheels turning. My man, you’ve confused the hell out of this woman.

  “I’m sorry, but I don’t see what you mean. Why will money be worthless?”

  “If the world as we know it collapses, every one of Bernie Sanders’ millionaires and billionaires will find themselves as poor as any homeless person and at risk of dying of starvation along with the rest of the population. It won’t matter that they could pay a million dollars for a loaf of bread or a can of beans. Money can’t buy what doesn’t exist.”

  Gloria’s eyes widened. “Go on.”

  “So, I might as well live in a big expensive home and enjoy it while I can.”

  “I’m not sure I fully buy the collapse thing, but I do agree that we should live while we can. Follow me to the office, and we’ll work up the contract. I’ll hand-carry it through the process and it’ll be yours within a few days.”

  Grayson was in near panic mode all the way to her office. His good side versus bad side had a fierce argument that gave him a headache, and he had to envision Shannon in Vegas to keep him driving.

  Thirty minutes later, Gloria pointed to the signature line on the purchase agreement. “Sign right here, Mr. Dean, and give me an earnest money check for a thousand.”

  His hand shook slightly as he signed. What the hell am I doing? Just like jumping from an airplane at twenty thousand feet, there’s no turning back now.

  Chapter 44

  Knock Knock – Who’s There?

  Year 9

  Grayson had many talents, but he admitted home decorating was not one of them. Miss Grace helped him furnish the farmhouse, but he wanted to do something entirely different with his first solo house, although he didn’t know what. His initial attempt got off to a shaky start.

  He moved in some furniture from storage, including Daniel and Amanda’s bedroom furniture. Leaving Margaret and his bedroom suite in storage, he shopped for a king bed for the master bedroom and a new recliner for his man cave. Looking at his old recliner for the first time since placing it in storage, images of his precious Amanda crawling into his lap to snuggle hit him hard. He swore never to sit in it again. Closing his misting eyes, he could smell her favorite shampoo and hear her giggles.

  He furnished the sunroom with a patio table and chairs set, and turned one of the bedrooms into an office. Another bedroom became survival preparation, including firearms, ammo, water filtering systems, a stock of freeze-dried and canned foods if trapped at home for any reason, and a bugout bag. Hidden by the privacy fence, he added rain collection barrels to the backyard gutter downspouts.

  From there he was lost. He convinced himself he would hire a decorator, hoping to impress Shannon if the day ever came. He wondered why he hadn’t inadvertently run into her yet and figured that she must be participating in the anti-gun rally in Washington.

  When the few pieces of new furniture were in place and the delivery truck gone, he put the king bed on a frame and hung a few of his clothes in the closet, not fully committing—an annoying new habit. Afterward, he settled into his new man-cave recliner with a pen and pad and surveyed his new domain. Daniel and Amanda would have loved the new place and his new toys, especially the big movie theater-size popcorn popper.

  He relaxed, looked around, contemplated his next major step and began to make a list of things to do: buy tools to replace the ones he left at the farm, doorknobs, painting materials and paint…. As his list grew, his sense of wellbeing leveled out and he became stimulated by the challenges. A man needs a mission in life. He’d have the place in tiptop condition in a few months. Finishing his list, he flipped on the television and stared in amazement as his eighty-inch flat screen came to life.

  Fox News had footage of a battle going on in a small town in the north of Iraq on the Syrian border. A group of ISIS fighters was repelling a contingent of Iranian soldiers. The Iranians’ intent was to wipe out the Sunnis and reunite Iraq and Iran, under Shia control of the Iranian Ayatollah, of course. The footage included bearded fighters, one waving an ISIS flag. Oddly, they looked unlike Middle Easterners. Grayson spent enough time in that part of the world to notice subtle differences. Recognition slowly crept into his consciousness. He grabbed the chair arms and sat forward, eyes wide. It can’t be.

  He backed the clip up on his new DVR and reviewed it several times before he was certain. “Carlos and Miguel Murtadha. Well I’ll be damned.” Bless Joe for obtaining those photos from the feds. Even with their beards. He stared at their ugly faces. “Damn!”

  Grayson ignored the doorbell, twice, too engrossed in the image frozen on the screen. His concentration broke when it rang a third time. Perturbed and expecting someone trying to convert him to another religion, he jerked the door open.

  Shannon, looking lovely in a pale green, thigh length, spaghetti strap sundress, stared back at him. She carried a Welcome Friends gift box in her hands. They stood in shocked silence, mouths open, waiting for the other to speak.

  Grayson opened the door wider, stepped back, and swallowed hard. “Please come in. You live around here?”

  Shannon took a step inside and gave him a skeptical look. “So it appears.” He saw the anger hit her. “What the hel...heck are you doing here?”

  “I got tired of farming.”

  “Farming? You’re no farmer. You know what I mean; damn you, Grayson.”

  His impulsive reaction was sarcastic. “Thanks. It’s good seeing you too.”

  Shannon briefly closed her eyes and shook her head. “I’m sorry, but you have to admit this is quite a shock. And don’t try to convince me this is a coincidence…neighbor!”

  A little head with beautiful long red locks peeked from behind Shannon. “Mommy, can I give the gift to our new neighbor? Can I? Huh?” The little girl held out a card to Grayson.

  Grayson, mouth agape, looked down at the pretty child. His heart clenched. “Amanda,” he whispered.

  Placing her little fists on her hips and employing the most profound sarcasm a little girl could muster and with her nose in the air, she announced, “My name is not Amanda. It’s Marcie and I’m six.”

  Shannon looked at Marcie, then at Grayson. She blinked her eyes and managed to croak at her daughter and hand her the gift box. “Marcie, this is Mr. Dean, our new neighbor. Show your manners,” she scolded.

  Grayson took the card and gift box from Marcie and shook the little hand extended to him, which now bore a pleasant smile and accompanied with a little curtsy. “I’m pleased to meet you, sir. Welcome to our neighborhood, Mr. Dean.”

  “I’m pleased to meet you too, Marcie.”

  She looked at Shannon. “Did I do it right, Mommy?”

  Shannon smiled, “You did great, sweetie.”

  She refocused on Grayson, who was still staring at Marcie. “As you can see, Larry and I finally got our wish. This is our beautiful daughter.”

  Grayson returned his attention to Shannon. “Yes. She’s a beautiful girl…just like her mother…who hasn’t changed a bit.” He raised his eyebrows and flattened his voice. “She seems to have inherited her mother’s demeanor, too.”

  Shannon flashed a quick smile that just as quickly turned to a frown. “I never expected to see you again. Been farming, huh? Married?” Damn, I can’ believe I asked him that.

  “Well…counselor, the short story: I’m single.” Flash of the eyes. She likes that answer. “I sold the old house and bought a farm near Palestine, but it didn’t work out as expected. So here I am. And you?”

  Marcie peeked around Shannon to ch
eck out the house. “Are you poor, Mr. Dean?”

  Grayson chuckled. “No, Marcie. I just haven’t had time to decorate the house yet.”

  “A farmer. Interesting choice for a detective. My practice slowed, taking care of a little one absorbs much of my time. But, I’m as engaged in my favorite project as ever.”

  “I’m not little.” Marcie poked her lips out in a pout. “I’m in first grade, and I can read.”

  Grayson heard Marcie loud and clear, but Shannon’s sudden change to a friendlier temperament kept him talking. “You mean eliminating the Second Amendment and confiscating all the guns?” he teased.

  “Oh, how I wish,” she teased back. “Larry will be home soon, and I need to get dinner started.”

  “It’s good seeing you again, Shannon. I’m glad we’re neighbors.”

  Shannon offered a handshake as she took her first look around the house, scrutinizing its meager settings. “Same here, Grayson. One day soon, we’ll have to explore how this coincidence happened. You have a lot of work ahead of you. The people who lived here before partied a lot. Feds busted them for selling drugs, bigtime. I imagine the damage is extensive.

  “Actually, this is probably it for a while. Not sure how long I’ll be staying.”

  Shannon gave him a half smile. “Come, Marcie, and help me prepare dinner.”

  “Thank you for the card and gift, Marcie.”

  “You’re welcome, sir. Do you live all by yourself?”

  “Yes,” he replied, wondering at her curiosity.

  “Mommy, we should ask Mr. Dean to eat dinner with us, so he won’t be lonesome.”

  “That’s okay, Marcie. I have plenty to eat right here in my house.”

  “Grayson, dinner is at six. Don’t be late.”

  “Shannon, that’s not necessary.”

  As she led her daughter by the hand across the porch and down the steps, Shannon turned her head and spoke emphatically, “Marcie has spoken, and you know that girls always get their way. Besides, it’s the proper thing to do for a new neighbor.” Curiosity got the better of her. What has this man been doing and what is he up to now?