Time Bomb(11)

That step. He tried not to take it personally. Still, he couldn’t help thinking about this summer at Sitto’s when he walked with others without a single person stepping back from him. People smiled as they passed him on the street. No one thought twice about what he looked like or jumped to conclusions about what his appearance meant.

“Did you have a good summer?” he asked quietly.

“Sure.” She nodded and shifted her weight. “It was good to have time away from school. How was your summer? Did you do something fun?”

“I visited family.”

Her smile vanished. “Family is always interesting.” She looked down at her own bag then off toward the media center. “Speaking of family, mine is going to be mad if I don’t get my yearbook stuff done in time to get home and change. I should go.”

“I need to get going too,” he said as she hurried down the hallway. She glanced to the side once, and he saw her smile return. Not the tense one she’d worn for him, but one that seemed to be as bright as the sun. Diana stopped and waved to whomever she was smiling at, then disappeared inside the media center.

When she was gone, he turned and headed down the hallway with his head up, hoping to see a friend who would ask him if he’d read the latest Superman comic to chase away the voices of his cousins from this summer. When they’d asked him about how people treated him back home and whether he felt his friends really accepted him, he’d automatically said yes. But with each day that passed and the more questions that were asked and comments made, he realized how different he was from everyone at home. He remembered the little slights and the snide looks, as well as the insults some of the biggest jerks in the school spat at him. If he was honest with himself, it was his cousins as much as anyone or anything else that made him come here today. They made him realize he needed to make choices about who he wanted to be.

He walked by a bunch of girls holding tape and posters and standing around their lockers not far from the stairwell. They all stopped talking as he walked by. As he headed into the stairwell, he could almost hear his cousins’ voices telling him how he could never really be an American as a Muslim. It was only when he was halfway to the second floor that he realized he had been holding his breath.

“Welcome back, Rashid,” Mrs. Skatavaritis said as she came down the stairs. She stopped and smiled. A large floral purse dangled from her arm. She must be done with her back-to-school meetings and was heading out to enjoy the rest of the day, but she still took the time to stop and ask, “Did you have a good summer?”

“I did,” he said. “How about you, Mrs. S.?”

“Well, it wasn’t long enough. It’s never long enough, right? But it was a nice break, and I’m ready to talk calculus. How about you?”

When he just nodded, she laughed. “Don’t worry. It’s going to be a good year. I promise.” With that, she continued on down the stairs.

Rashid watched her go, went up to the second floor, and then headed to the bathroom near the science classrooms, at other end of the school.

He spotted Mr. Rizzo in his biology room, but as Rashid had suspected, most of the math and science rooms were clean, perfectly organized, and completely empty at the moment.

He hoped the bathroom would be empty too.

It was.

Quickly, Rashid slipped off his shoes and socks and rolled up his pants in order to wash and get ready for prayers. When he finished, he picked up his bag and shoes and hurried to Mr. Lott’s classroom down the hall. The adviser of the robotics team had always been cool about allowing Rashid to use his room when a class wasn’t in session. Once in a while, one of the other boys from his mosque would join him, but mostly he prayed alone. He liked the guys who went to his mosque, but they were more interested in playing soccer than in building robots or in the new comics being released. And their parents let them do all their prayers at home after school was over. Maybe if he liked soccer more, he’d get along with them better. But as much as he tried to be a part of their group, he never could. They were all Muslim, and while that made them friendly to him, it wasn’t enough to make them real friends no matter how much he wished it was.

During his fifteen minutes of prayers, he spotted Diana walking by, as well as two teachers clearly on their way out of the building. But none of them seemed to notice him, which made focusing easier than normal.

Rashid rolled down his pants, put his shoes back on, and picked up his bag. Then he went back to the bathroom. For several long moments, he studied his face in the mirror, trying to see what Diana saw today that had made her step back from him. What made so many of them do the same?

Dark skin. Curly hair. A long, scraggly beard. Just one more thing that made him different. This summer all the men in Palestine had beards, and his cousins, who didn’t, were jealous of his because it made the older girls look twice at Rashid.

People stared at him here, too, but as his cousins pointed out, it wasn’t because of his appearance. The more he thought about it, the more he realized that even after he had been living here for five years, most people couldn’t get past what they saw on the outside. Fewer still wanted to learn. Not even his friends seemed comfortable enough to ask questions. His cousins said it was because people were scared of what they would learn if they asked. His father told him that time would bring understanding.

Rashid wished he could believe his father was right and that if he just waited long enough, people would act normal around him again. That they wouldn’t look at him and see Muslim first and Rashid second.