by Jenifer Ruff
Amin’s face froze.
“You tried to make a joke. Well, I’ll be! We are so completely over-worked and sleep deprived that you actually made a joke.” Melissa held his gaze for one more second before she doubled over and burst out laughing. Amin’s stiff and aching body suddenly relaxed, and he laughed too. He laughed in a way he hadn’t for weeks or months, maybe even years, propelled into hysterics by Melissa’s uncontrollable snorts. He laughed the way people do when nothing is funny, but circumstances have traveled beyond ridiculous. His abdominal muscles cramped from the effort and he wiped tears from under his eyes. Next to him, Melissa tried to catch her breath. For a minute, he was transported back to grade school and a memory he shared with Kareem. One of Kareem’s many science experiments, a handmade volcano, had exploded gallons of purple foam onto their heads, the kitchen, the curtains, and the ceiling. It was hilarious, and they laughed through the entire clean up that followed. Thoughts of his recently deceased aunt and uncle led him to pull himself together, but a smile remained on his face.
“We needed that,” Melissa said. “Let’s go to a conference room and sort this out. I’ll order some dinner to be delivered, and this time we’re expensing it. I’m not eating plastic wrapped food from the vending machine again.”
Amin followed Melissa, feeling a bit lighter than before.
Hours past a reasonable dinner time, Amin arrived back at his apartment. He hung up his sports coat and tie and saw that he needed to take his dirty shirts to the cleaners right away or start recycling them. Before he went to bed he spoke to Kareem via Skype. It was the first time they had spoken since the death of Kareem’s parents.
“How are you doing?” Amin asked.
“I’m doing exactly what I need to. I wasn’t always sure about it, but now I am. Damn! It feels good.”
Amin expected subdued sadness or depression. Kareem’s conviction surprised him. His tone had an angry edge. But everyone grieved differently. “What are you talking about?” asked Amin.
“I’m moving forward with something important. Something I was holding back on, but not anymore. Everything happens for a reason, and I’m right where I need to be. How about you?”
Kareem’s energy rivaled Amin’s exhaustion. “I finished a big project at work. Forecast reports.”
“Don’t take offense, but does any of that matter? Does anyone care what you do at Continental Bank?”
“Huh?” said Amin, although he knew what Kareem meant. No one cared about or appreciated his work. Certainly not his boss. Aside from those few silly moments with Melissa, his work might be slowly and gradually sucking the life out of him. But it was all he had. Besides his family.
“If you died next week, how would you feel about wasting your life helping the richest people in the richest country become richer? Do you think that’s what Allah put you on this earth to do?”
“I don’t know.” Amin sighed, lacking the stamina for his defense. Kareem was right. Amin’s efforts did nothing to make the world a better place, he was only helping to ratchet the CEOs multi-million-dollar salary to a new level of obscenity. At this rate, he would grow old feeling alone and unfulfilled in his cube. But he wasn’t about to admit it or complain about it. Not yet. He massaged his temples to soothe his returning headache.
“Come visit me,” Kareem said.
Amin almost laughed out loud. Taking a vacation right now was absurd. Even if he wanted to, he couldn’t. “I can’t. But maybe someday.”
“I hope it’s soon. I can give you a purpose that matters. I have to go now. I have a meeting.”
“What type of meeting?”
“Something I’ll share with you when you visit me. Take care of yourself. You look like crap. You’re not on the right path brother, but I can help.”
Kareem signed off and the screen went blank.
“I’m sorry about your parents,” Amin said, although no one was listening.
Chapter Sixteen
Charlotte
October 1stth
With hell week behind them until next quarter, Amin logged in to his computer and began scrolling through unread emails. He had no meetings scheduled and planned to be caught up by the end of the day. That’s when he noticed something new had just been added to his calendar. A 1:00 PM meeting with Shelly Venne in Human Resources which included a message to bring his laptop. An ominous chill swept through his body. The request was out of the ordinary. Out of the ordinary rarely meant anything good. Amin had done nothing wrong. He thought of the emails from Kareem, but all correspondence with his cousin had been on his personal computer. In the last eight days, he had worked one hundred hours, if not more. The forecast reports were mistake free. And surely, if he was going to be in trouble, it would have come from Doug first, not from someone in human resources whom he had never met. He walked to Doug’s office to ask if he knew anything about the meeting request from HR. Doug’s door was closed. Amin’s knock went unanswered. He returned to his cube.
Amin busied himself with account reconciliations and did his best to push his worries aside and concentrate on his work. At noon, he decided to grab some lunch and return in time for the mysterious meeting.
Melissa heard his chair hit the edge of his desk when he slid it back in place. Still seated, she scooted her chair away from her cube and asked, “Are you going to get something to eat?”
“Yes, would you like me to pick something up for you?”
“No. But thanks. I brought something from home. Can we meet when you get back? To go over these new general ledger numbers?”
“Maybe around one thirty.”
“Long lunch?”
“I have an appointment with HR at one o’clock.”
“What for?”
“I don’t know. It popped up on my calendar today. It didn’t say. Only that I needed to bring my laptop.”
Melissa’s expression changed immediately to one of concern. “Amin, that’s not good.”
“Do you think I’m being laid off?”
“I don’t know. You don’t deserve it. You’ve done great work. Both of us have. It’s just, well, what else could it be?”
Amin looked down at his cube and chewed on his inner cheek.
“I don’t want you to freak out. Maybe it’s nothing important, but you don’t want to walk in there and be blindsided.”
“Thanks, Melissa. I appreciate your concern. I’ll let you know what happens.”
Amin walked to the deli, letting his shoulders and face relax, resigning himself to the fact that he was going to be fired. He had never been fired from anything before. He wasn’t sure if he felt embarrassed or angry. There wasn’t a whole lot of feeling happening inside. He was mostly concerned because losing his job would mean losing his identity. Who would he be without his work? What would he say when people asked him questions about what he did and who he was?
“Amin!”
Isa, one arm waving above her head, tried to break through a tight double row of people waiting in line at Starbucks. Isa, who had a fiancé. Amin quickly looked away. Knowing he was about to be fired, seeing Isa was more than he could handle today. He picked up his pace, walking in the opposite direction, blending into the noontime lunch crowd. Isa called his name twice more before he could no longer hear her.
Doug sat waiting, along with Shelly, the HR representative, when Amin arrived for the one o’clock appointment.
“Thank you for coming, Amin,” Shelly said as if it had been his choice. “I’ll get right to the point of our meeting. The bank needs to downsize and we’re cutting back on our non-revenue producing roles. Unfortunately, your job has been eliminated, effective immediately.”
“I see.” Amin ran his hand over his head. A lightheaded sensation came and went.
“It’s not a reflection on you or your work.”
“Not at all,” said Doug. “It’s just one of those unfortunate things.”
“You’ll receive a severance commiserate with your years of servi
ce here. Two weeks of pay for every year you’ve been with the bank.” Shelly handed Amin a piece of paper with the figures. He read it carefully, surprised by his own lack of indignation.
“I’ll need to take your laptop. You can put it right there, please.” She pointed to the desk before him. “I can’t allow you to open it again, so please put it right there.”
“What if I had something personal I needed to download?”
“That would be unfortunate. I’m only following policies.” Shelly’s mouth formed a tight smile. Amin placed his laptop on the desk along with the charging cord and the mouse. He sat back down and crossed his arms over his chest.
“Sorry, Amin. Best of luck,” Doug said.
“Thank you,” Amin said, as if they had done him a favor. He reached out to shake Doug’s hand while wondering if Doug would grow fatter and eventually have a heart attack at work. “So, that’s it?”
“That’s it.” Shelley placed her hands on the table.
“I need to get my things from my office, I guess.”
Shelly bent over to retrieve the empty box she had waiting. She handed the box to Amin as she stood up and opened her office door. “You can put your personal belongings in here. Security will escort you to your desk.”
Amin cocked his head. “Another part of the bank’s firing policy process?”
“Yes.” Shelly glanced to her desk as if she had already mentally moved on to her next appointment. Doug remained seated.
A big tall guy from security stood waiting outside the door. The man looked past him and said, “Ready?”
Amin and the security guard walked silently to the elevator. Amin wrapped his arms around the box, feeling conspicuous. He couldn’t think of anything he would miss if he left everything behind, but it seemed like a good idea to check and make sure. The elevator stopped twice on the way up. Each person who stepped inside noticed his box and avoided eye contact. Amin’s face grew hot. When they reached the thirty-fourth floor, he walked to his cube for the last time, the security guard a few paces behind. At least he wouldn’t miss his office area much. He wondered if an unescorted ex-employee had ever run around like crazy after being fired. He pictured someone vandalizing the cubes, lifting them up and tossing them over, probably not possible, and throwing around pens, paper clips, and staplers. The thought made him smile. The guard stood nearby, stone-faced.
“I’m so sorry,” Melissa said, immediately at his cube. “You don’t deserve this.” She shook her head, the creases in her forehead pronounced. “The bank is downsizing in all the departments, you can’t take this personally. I’m sure they’ll be calling you back soon for another position.”
Amin nodded. “I’m okay. Sorry I won’t be helping you with the general ledger numbers.” He offered a half smile. He opened and closed his cube drawers one at a time and removed his few possessions: a mug, a fork, a neatly folded paper bag, and a Panther player bobble-head from the finance department holiday gift exchange. He placed them in the box. He added a framed picture of himself laughing with some friends from college. He dropped a half package of crackers in the trash can, took a last look around, and left everything else. Leaving his cube without his laptop felt strange, like he had left a limb behind.
Melissa put her hand on his arm. A tear hung in the corner of her eye. “I’m not okay with this.”
A spark of gratitude welled up inside him. Melissa seemed to genuinely care about his job loss. More than he did, perhaps. Unfortunately, her concern couldn’t change his situation. “Good bye, Melissa. It’s been a pleasure to work with you.”
Melissa surprised him with a big hug before he left. “You take care. We’ll keep in touch,” she said.
“Damn,” he said inside the parking garage when he realized that just yesterday he had paid the parking fee for the next three months. He drove back to his apartment, went straight to bed, and slept for four hours.
He knew something was different when he woke up, but for a few groggy seconds, he didn’t remember why he was home in bed at a time when he was always in the office. He now had nothing to do. Nothing at all. He thought about calling his parents, but didn’t want to burden them with his terrible news. He wished he’d done a better job of keeping in touch with friends from high school and college. He wished he hadn’t spent so many hours in his cube. And if those were his biggest regrets, maybe losing his job was a good thing after all. Maybe now he could have a life. A girlfriend. A family. A purpose. He wondered where to start.
With an emptiness in his soul, he cooked and ate his last frozen pizza and opened his personal computer. He spent two hours in the Muslims Unite chat room searching for soul-lifting guidance. When it was late enough to call Kareem, he dialed. His cousin answered right away.
“I had one hell of a shitty day, Kareem.”
“What happened?”
“You’re probably going to love it.” Amin laughed and proceeded to tell his cousin about losing his job and being escorted to his desk when he had nothing worth taking home and could have spared himself the embarrassment. He kept talking, sharing the story of Isa, his dream woman, and finding out about her fiancé.
“Come visit me. Now that you’ve been canned, this is the time. There will never be a better time. The time is now.”
Amin’s heartbeat picked up. He acknowledged the instant feelings of excitement and apprehension. “I would like to see you. But no offense, Syria isn’t on the list of my top vacation spots. Is it even safe for visitors?” He opened a new page in his browser and typed, Is it safe to travel to Syria?
“You know how you hear about a hurricane somewhere? The news makes it seem like the whole entire state is flooded, because the media goes ape-shit over carnage and disasters, when in reality, it’s only one or two unfortunate and shitty neighborhoods, and everyone else is going about their business as usual. That’s how it is here.”
Amin rubbed the back of his neck and thought of Kareem’s parents who were simply eating lunch when they were shot and killed. He said, “That’s not what it says on the internet. Listen. The U.S. Department of State continues to warn U.S. citizens of increased threats from terrorist groups throughout Syria. U.S. citizens should avoid travel throughout the country. Foreigners may be targets for terrorist attacks, assassination and kidnapping for ransom or political gain.”
“I live here and I’m telling you, you’ll be fine. If you want, I can take you to look at areas where it looks like an earthquake hit, I’m not saying they aren’t here, there are plenty, but I promise you, you will be fine.”
“How can you know that?”
“I live hours away from the main city in a compound built exclusively to keep its occupants safe. No one even knows it exists. I’m going to have someone protecting you every step of the way here. Trust me. I’ll arrange to have someone drive you from the train station right to my neighborhood.”
“Can’t you do it? Pick me up?”
“Can’t. I’m up against a tight deadline. Shit. I sound like you, don’t I?”
“Maybe I shouldn’t be traveling until I have a new job lined up. I’ll find a new position and ask to start after I get back from visiting you.”
“You’re always trying to find a reason not to do something, aren’t you? Some things never change. You just reminded me of when we were kids and you wouldn’t sneak into an R-rated movie with me. You made a big deal of it. I forget the movie. What was it? Now it’s bugging me.”
“The Virgin Suicides. And I did go with you. And we got caught. Did you forget that part? The security guards asked for our tickets and made us wait in an office. They called my parents.”
“Oh, yeah. Ha! The scary movie theater security guys! Well, you know what? You survived. Listen. The whole trip here and back can be free if you’re willing to help out with a few things. My employer will pay for everything.” Kareem’s voice rose with contagious excitement.
“Your employer? What do they need help with?” Amin asked.
“Um…finance-related stuff.”
“How do you know they’ll want me?”
“Believe me. They’ll want you. You’ll have a free trip and you won’t have to do much work. You won’t be stuck at a desk all day like you were at the Bank of Satan.” Kareem spoke with the utmost conviction and confidence.
Amin thought about what he had going on in Charlotte. The answer—nothing. He wanted to help Kareem. He wanted to help himself. The trip offered an opportunity to escape his boredom, surround himself with devout Muslims, spend time with his cousin, and, somehow, change his attitude about westerners before it was too late. Only one reason existed to say no—the fear of stepping away from his comfort zone. Enough of that. For once, he wasn’t going to let fear stop him from doing something new and interesting.
“Okay. I’ll come.”
“Yes! Way to go, man! As your President would say, it’s going to be a really, really, great trip. Believe me. It’s going to be the best trip ever. You’re not going to believe how very great it will be.” Kareem laughed.
Amin couldn’t help but smile at his cousin’s eagerness.
“I’ll get it all set up now, before you can change your mind. All you have to do is pack a suitcase. It will take a few days to get here, but it won’t cost you anything. They’ll fly you in through Paris or Amsterdam, better rates, you know, and someone will meet you there.”
“What? Wait. Paris? How do I go the rest of the way? Won’t it take days?”
“Bring a good book. A few good books. You can brush up on the Quran. No one flies into Syria. The instructions might seem a little strange, but you’ll have to trust me. Okay?”
“What instructions?”
“Instructions for traveling.”
“Oh, uh—"
“Email me a recent headshot. I’ll get back to you asap with details. Don’t even think about talking yourself out of this. Don’t even think about it. Pack your things. You’re coming!”
Chapter Seventeen
Charlotte – Amsterdam - Syria