Sasquatch in the Paint

by Kareem Abdul-Jabbar

  “Well,” Gavin said to Rain, “any more brilliant plans?”

  “I’m thinking,” she said.

  After a couple more minutes of silence, they heard a motorcycle roaring nearby. They looked over by the restroom/snack building. Motorpsycho sat on the bike, revving his engine. He flipped open his helmet and stared at them.

  “Who’s this clown?” Gavin asked.

  “Motorpsycho,” Theo said.

  Gavin stood up. “I’m just in the right mood to meet him.”

  Rain stood up, too. “No. I’ll talk to him.”

  “He hit you last time,” Theo reminded her.

  “He won’t do that again,” Rain said. Theo didn’t know how she could be sure of that.

  Theo started to get up, tripped, and fell against Rain. She caught him and kept him from falling.

  “Smooth, bro,” Gavin said.

  Theo straightened himself up and said to Rain, “Sorry.”

  “Just don’t do that on the basketball court,” she said. She walked off to talk to Motorpsycho.

  Theo and Gavin watched.

  Rain and Motorpsycho spoke heatedly. Theo couldn’t hear the exact words, but he could hear the tone, which was angry.

  Suddenly Motorpsycho handed her a spare helmet. She put it on and climbed onto the back of his motorcycle.

  “Wait!” Theo shouted, springing to his feet and running toward them.

  They rode off.

  “TURN right at the stop sign,” Theo called, pointing at the street ahead.

  Gavin pedaled through the stop sign as he swung the bike right down Gardenia Street with Theo close behind. It wasn’t like Theo to ignore traffic rules, but they were on a rescue mission. Maybe. Plus, the residential streets were empty right now. Except for the occasional jogger mom pushing a special jogging stroller.

  “Pull over!” Theo shouted at Gavin. They both braked at the curb while Theo studied the map on Gavin’s phone screen.

  Here’s what had happened back at the park: When Theo saw that Rain was going to go talk to Motorpsycho, he’d pretended to stumble into her. What he was actually doing was slipping his iPhone into her backpack. Once the motorcycle had roared away, he’d used Gavin’s phone to activate the GPS finder that allowed them to track his own phone. Then they went back to Theo’s house, grabbed his and his dad’s bikes, and pedaled off to find Rain and discover her secret connection with Motorpsycho.

  “How close are we?” Gavin asked.

  Theo was a little pleased to see that, while he was breathing normally, Gavin was breathing hard. Theo’s basketball conditioning had finally paid off. “Just a few more blocks,” he said, tapping the screen to enlarge the map.

  They took off, side by side at first, then with Gavin lagging slightly behind. Finally, they pulled up in front of a two-story white house with a couple of motorcycles and a black Lexus in the driveway. There was a small yard, and a flower-filled garden surrounded the house.

  The house looked normal, just like Theo’s and Brian’s and Daryl’s and Tunes’s. There was a tricycle in the driveway, so there had to be a little kid. What kind of evil could they be doing inside with a tricycle outside?

  Theo’s heart was pounding. Now what? He didn’t really have a plan.

  Gavin had taken out a cigarette and was about to light it when Theo ran over to him and blew out the lighter flame. “Put that away! No wonder you were wheezing from that bike ride.”

  Gavin shrugged and put the cigarette back in the pack.

  Theo took a deep breath and marched up to the front door. He knocked briskly. Gavin walked up and stood behind him. “Don’t worry, cuz. I’ve got your back.”

  But Theo was worried. This was someone’s home. Private property. What right did he have to snoop into whatever was happening inside?

  The door opened. Motorpsycho stood glaring at Theo. “What are you doing here?” he growled.

  “I, uh…” Theo stuttered. Gavin started to push his way around Theo to take over, but Theo blocked him and said, “Where’s Rain? We want to talk to her.”

  “What you want means nothing to me. Now go. You are not welcome here.”

  “Hey, man,” Gavin said angrily, trying to push his way around Theo again. Theo used his basketball skills to box him out.

  “We just want to talk to Rain first,” Theo said. “Then we’ll go.”

  Motorpsycho took a menacing step toward Theo, but Theo didn’t back down.

  Suddenly Rain appeared at the doorway and shoved Motorpsycho aside. She said something harsh to him in a foreign language. Then to Theo, “What are you doing here?”

  “I wanted—”

  “We wanted,” Gavin corrected.

  “We wanted to make sure you were okay.”

  Motorcycle snorted and said something in the foreign language to which Rain responded.

  “Matar,” a man called from inside, “show your friends in. It’s not polite to keep them waiting.”

  “Yes, Uncle,” Rain said.

  “Matar?” Theo said.

  Rain shrugged. “Well, come in, then. You’re just in time.”

  “In time for what?” Theo asked as he and Gavin stepped inside the house.

  “For the trial,” Rain said.

  Motorpsycho slammed the door behind them and locked it.

  “AS-SALAMU alaykum,” the man said with a big, friendly smile. He gestured for Theo and Gavin to have a seat on the white sofa.

  Theo and Gavin just stood and stared.

  The man speaking was tall and dark-skinned (though not as dark as Theo). He wore a suit and tie. His mustache and beard were as black as his hair.

  “That’s Arabic,” Rain said. “It means ‘peace be unto you.’ In case it ever comes up in the Aca-lympics.” She smiled as if to put Theo at ease.

  Theo was not put at ease.

  Standing next to the bearded man was a woman whose head was wrapped in a bright yellow scarf so that no hair was visible. She wore a long, flowing, blue robe. Sitting on the stairs was an older teen girl. She wore jeans and a UCLA sweatshirt, but she also had a green scarf covering her hair. She was texting on her phone and didn’t look up at Theo or Gavin.

  Across the room stood Motorpsycho and another guy, in his early twenties. He wore a leather bomber jacket that Theo recognized from the park. He was the other motorcyclist who had been with Motorpsycho. Shadow Man.

  A little boy of about seven ran into the room carrying a light saber. He looked around and then ran up the stairs, jostling the girl who was texting. She muttered, “Jerk,” without missing a peck on the keyboard.

  “Don’t run on the stairs, Mamun,” the older woman cautioned.

  Mamun instantly stopped and walked up the rest of the flight, but when he got to the top, they heard his footsteps running down the hall as he shouted, “Run, you Klingon scum!”

  Everyone (except Text Girl on the stairs) was staring at Theo. He didn’t know what to say, so he blurted, “Mamun’s mixing up his movies. Light sabers are from Star Wars; Klingons are from Star Trek.” Like a true geek, when in doubt, he fell back on facts.

  “You’re Muslims,” Gavin said as if accusing them of being chicken thieves.

  Motorpsycho and Shadow Man sneered. If the rest of the family had noticed Gavin’s tone, they didn’t show it. They all smiled pleasantly as if they were entertaining long-lost relatives.

  “Yes, indeed, we are Muslims,” the man said. “My name is Razeem Hamid. This is my wife, Fadilah. And my daughter, Ni’ja, who had better put her phone away if she wishes to keep it.”

  Ni’ja/Text Girl immediately slipped her phone into her back pocket with an accompanying eye roll and sigh.

  “And you’ve met three of my sons. Mamun the Jedi, and…”—he pointed to Motorpsycho and Shadow Man—“Aadil and Aazim.”

  Theo didn’t look at them. He focused on the man and woman. “I’m Theo. This is my cousin, Gavin.” Theo shook the hands of the mother and father. Gavin just nodded.

  Theo said, �
�I don’t understand. Rain said this was some sort of trial. If it is, I’d just like to speak on her behalf.”

  The man, his wife, and Text Girl laughed.

  “I’m not on trial,” Rain said. She pointed at Motorpsycho and Shadow Man. “They are.”

  “‘Trial’ is too harsh a word, Matar,” the mother said to Rain.

  “Matar?” Gavin said.

  The mother smiled. “Matar means ‘rain’ in Arabic. It is a blessed name. We come from a dry desert area, so rain is always a blessing.”

  “It’s pretty,” Theo said.

  Rain made a face at Theo.

  “Yes, it is,” the mother said. “It is Muslim tradition to choose a name with a righteous meaning that will benefit the child throughout their life. However, she prefers the English word. Just as she prefers the American way of dressing.”

  “So do I,” Ni’ja said. “Why can’t I go by Nancy? Then I wouldn’t have all the boys calling me Ninja.”

  The mother said, “Ni’ja means ‘saved one.’ What does Nancy mean?”

  “It means ‘talks to boys,’” she said sarcastically.

  “Actually,” Theo said, “Nancy is of Hebrew origin, from the name Ann, meaning ‘grace.’”

  Razeem smiled at Theo. “You are a very smart young man, Theo. Rain has chosen her friends well.”

  Rain rolled her eyes. “Uncle Razeem, you sound like some Arab villain in a movie. Relax. Theo’s just a nerd, and Gavin is a songwriter who probably thinks all Muslims are wearing suicide bombs while shopping for groceries.”

  Motorpsycho said something to Shadow Man in what Theo now realized was Arabic. They smirked.

  “Aadil! Aazim!” their father snapped. “It is rude not to speak English in front of our guests.”

  Both boys glared at Theo and Gavin, but they stopped talking.

  Rain grabbed Theo and Gavin by the upper arms and pulled them toward the front door. “Uncle, I’m going to let you guys get on with your nontrial or whatever while I explain everything to my friends.”

  “Can I go with them?” Text Girl asked hopefully.

  The mother shot her a stern look and Ni’ja sighed with defeat.

  “Nice meeting you,” Theo said to the family (though he didn’t look at the brothers).

  When the door closed, Rain dug into her pocket and pulled out Theo’s iPhone. She handed it to him.

  “When did you find it?” Theo asked.

  Rain laughed. “As soon as you stuck it in. You’re not exactly James Bond.”

  Theo looked puzzled. “Then why didn’t you say something?”

  “She wanted you to follow her, dipstick,” Gavin said.

  Rain said, “I just wanted you to make the effort. To care enough to take the risk.”

  Theo scoffed. “Why can’t girls just say what they mean? Why all this mumbo jumbo?”

  “I am saying what I mean, Theo,” Rain said. “You’re just not listening. It’s like your basketball game. You play like all you care about is what other people think of you, not because you care about the game. That keeps you from really being in the game.”

  “I’m ‘in’ the game,” Theo said. “Believe me, I’m way in the game.”

  She threw up her hands in frustration. “Okay, let’s look at it another way. When you were pedaling over here to save me, what did you feel?”

  “Winded,” Gavin said.

  “Not you,” Rain said.

  Theo thought, but he couldn’t come up with anything. “I don’t know. Why do you always have to be feeling something? Maybe I wasn’t feeling anything.”

  “Weren’t you worried about what your cousin would think? Going through all this trouble and effort for a girl? Especially a girl you hardly know who’s done nothing but keep secrets from you?”

  Theo was surprised to realize he hadn’t thought about that. Normally that would have been his first concern. He would have been afraid of Gavin making fun of him.

  Rain continued, “Weren’t you scared that when you found me you’d have to deal with my cousins?”

  “Yeah, I was, but I just…” Theo let the sentence trail off, because he wasn’t sure how to finish it. On some level he’d been afraid, but that level had been buried under ten tons of something else. “Look, don’t make this a big deal. I just thought you were in trouble, and I didn’t want anything bad to happen to you. I would have done the same for a stranger.”

  Rain raised a skeptical eyebrow.

  “Not everything is a big life lesson, you know. Some things just happen.” It’s what Theo used to say to his mom.

  Rain smiled. “Anyway, thanks. Both of you.”

  “Except you weren’t really in trouble,” Gavin said, an edge to his voice. “You were hanging with a bunch of Muslims. Does that mean you’re a Muslim?”

  “Yes,” Rain said.

  “But you don’t wear one of those scarves,” Theo said.

  “A hijab,” Rain explained. “It’s not required by the Qur’an. We’re only supposed to dress modestly. What that means is open to interpretation. Some believe it means wearing only a scarf, others believe it means covering everything but the eyes. Some even cover the eyes with a mesh veil. I believe I already dress modestly.”

  Gavin started walking toward the bikes. “She’s fine, man. Let’s get going. We still have a thief to catch.”

  Theo didn’t move. He said to Rain, “I still don’t understand what’s going on with you. Why did your cousin hit you that day in the park? Why was he threatening me?”

  Rain sat on the stoop. Theo sat beside her.

  Gavin kicked impatiently at a clod of dirt.

  “My mom’s a Muslim from Iraq, and my dad’s a Quaker from Pennsylvania. He’s a contractor who met my mom while he was in Iraq rebuilding an airport. She wanted me to be raised Muslim, and so I’m Muslim. Whether I’ll stay one for my entire life, I don’t know. I’m still figuring things out. But right now I am.”

  “Where are your parents?”

  “They had to go back to Iraq. My grandfather died, and they have to see about bringing my grandmother over here. So they left me with my mom’s brother, Uncle Razeem.”

  “And he’s very strict?” Theo asked, guessing at why she’d been so keen to leave.

  Rain laughed. “No, he’s a very sweet man. And Auntie Fadilah is like a mother to me. But their sons, Aadil and Aazim.” She shook her head distastefully. “In the past year they’ve become more and more religiously conservative. They think it’s their right to tell me how to behave, because I’m a girl. What I should wear. How I should behave. Who I could talk to.”

  “My mom was raised Baptist,” Theo said. “I’ve seen the same thing in some of those families.”

  “Sometimes they search my bedroom and backpack, looking for evidence that I’m not behaving properly. They even cut up one of my Dr. J shirts, because they think girls shouldn’t play basketball. When I got tired of their bullying, I left and stayed at a friend’s house for a few nights. I didn’t want them to get into trouble, so I told my aunt and uncle that I was working on a school project with my friend and this would be more convenient. But after a couple days, Auntie Fadilah figured it out. That’s why the family meeting inside.”

  “The trial,” Theo said.

  “Basically.”

  “Why didn’t Ni’ja complain? And why don’t her brothers go all conservative on her, too?”

  “She’s nineteen and goes to UCLA. They think she’s too far gone. I’m only thirteen, so they think they can still force me into their idea of a Muslim.”

  Theo noticed her T-shirt for the first time. The single lowercase word: HOWEVER.

  “What’s going to happen to your cousins?” Theo asked.

  “Who cares?” Gavin said with annoyance. “She’s fine. They’re screwed. Happy ending. Let’s go.”

  Theo ignored him.

  “Aadil, who you call Motorpsycho, will probably lose his motorcycle for a month. His sister will have to drive him to school and work. That
should be humiliation enough for him.”

  Theo smiled.

  “As for Aazim, he’s older and lives on his own, so Uncle Razeem’s influence isn’t as strong. However, he works for Uncle’s close friend at a Toyota dealership, so I foresee some late shifts and lots of dirty work there.”

  Theo looked Rain in the eyes. “Why didn’t you just tell me when you first met me?”

  “Because…” Rain sighed. “Because everyone at my old school knew I was Muslim, and I had to put up with so much terrorist talk that I couldn’t take it anymore. We were near the Marine base, so we got a lot of kids from military families. A couple weeks ago, I convinced my auntie and uncle to let me transfer.”

  “That’s why I hadn’t seen you around school before,” Theo said.

  “They didn’t want me to transfer. They said it was giving in to bullies and that running away never solved anything. They were right, of course. I knew that even then. But I ran anyway.”

  “So you were kind of the Sasquatch of your old school,” Theo teased.

  “Not because of my height, obviously. But yeah, you could say I stood out in the crowd.” Rain smiled. “That’s why I gravitated to you, I guess. We have some things in common. Except I’m a much better basketball player.”

  “We’ll see,” Theo said with a grin. Suddenly he snapped his fingers. “Hey, that’s why you picked the pepperonis off Brian’s pizza that day at lunch. You’re kosher, or whatever the Muslim version of kosher is.”

  “Halal,” Rain said, “which means ‘lawful.’ And, yes, we don’t eat pork.”

  “Brian’s Jewish, but that doesn’t stop him.”

  Rain shrugged. “I’ve been known to sample bacon on occasion.”

  Gavin, unable to contain himself any longer, marched over to them. “I’ve got two words for you, cuz: Nine. Eleven. Get it? Here’s two more words: al-Qaeda. These folks got jihad on the brain, man. They want to bomb us all into being Muslims.”

  Theo winced. So much for his thinking that Gavin had changed for the better.… He looked at Rain to see how she would react to the harsh words.

  Rain burst into laughter. “Boy, that stuff never gets old. It’s good to stick with the classics.” To Theo: “Now you see what I was up against at school. Try listening to that every single day. And the threats.” She turned to Gavin. “Okay, Gavin. Here’s a cheat-sheet guide to Islamic beliefs. First, we believe there’s only one God, the same one Christians and Jews believe in. Second, we believe in the Scriptures, which include the Old and New Testaments and the Qur’an. Third, we believe there’s a day when we’ll all be judged and our souls will go either to Paradise or Hellfire. To be honest, I’m not so sure about that one, but I’ll hang with it for a while longer. How is that so different from most people you know?”