Post by goldenmyst on Nov 25, 2019 21:45:14 GMT -6
Rawina Finds Hope
Her family had scattered to the four winds after their village became a smoking ruin. So she wandered the desert in a daze. At the age of twenty when most are just starting off in life, she was a refugee. Finally, Rawina found herself more chaperoned than captured by the strangest soldier in an ISIS uniform. He opened the door for her as though he was a gentleman. He said, “Good afternoon. May I take you out for a bite to eat?” It was like he was escorting her on a date.
Rawina replies, “Thank you for the offer. However, my lunch date is just late. He should arrive any minute now. If I didn’t have prior arrangements I surely would take you up on your offer. After all, you seem like a nice man and no doubt we’d have loads to talk about.”
This was the most peculiar abduction she could imagine. It was as though she could just walk away and he wouldn’t pursue her. But she didn’t want to take a chance given these guys rap sheets.
Her heart pounded like it was trying to escape the cage of her ribs. The bearded man said, “Hey, my clothing is just camouflage. I’m not one of the bad guys. I’m here to take you to safety.”
She said, “Well when you put it that way, of course, I’ll accept your offer. My boyfriend is always late, which is one of the reasons our relationship is on the skids.”
The man gave Rawina a pillow to sit on because the road was bumpy. But there was a pleasant breeze upon her face. The man said, “It is a beautiful day for a drive to Kurdistan.”
She broke out in laughter. “You are dressed like an ISIS fighter. But now I see that is a ploy.”
“I’m an undercover agent whose mission is to help you on this fine spring day. My apologies but here is a one size fits all hijab. You must wear it out here, just until we cross the Kurdish border.”
Rawina said, “I can’t wait to let the flames consume that thing.”
He said, “In America women once burned their bras. Here women burn their hijab.”
She said, “What will they think of an ISIS fighter approaching?”
He replied, “Any Diva will agree the wardrobe must be right for the occasion. Mine includes the Kurdish Liberation Front uniform. But it couldn’t hurt for you to wave white flags.”
Rawina asked, “Do you roam ISIS territory looking for women to save?”
He replied, “The rescue gig suits me better than being a warrior. My rifles aren’t loaded. Surrounded by enemies a gunfight would be pointless.”
“Do you mean you’re unarmed out here?”
“Prayer is my secret weapon.”
When they arrive at the Kurdish outpost he says, “Farewell, my gentle lady. It was a pleasure serving you.”
Rawina replies, “You mean you’re not staying? Please, you’ve done your duty. Don’t let your legacy end in martyrdom. You must have a family. They need you alive. I need to know you are safe.”
“Don’t worry about me. One day when the dust settles down we’ll have some tea and remember this day. Until then keep your chin up and don’t let life get you down.”
Rawina replies, “You’ll be in my heart forever. I owe you my life but give me a goodbye hug.”
UN Peacekeepers took Rawina to a refugee camp where her family waited. A journalist said, “Hello Rawina. My name is Jamila. I am here to tell your story to America because Americans have too much fear-mongering and too little compassion for your people. We also believe men are the primary agents of war.”
“I refuse to bad mouth men because a man rescued me,” Rawina says.
“You were saved by a man from other men.”
“You are the first person in this camp to take an interest in my story. So where do I begin?”
Jamila says, “You are so young and brave. But your name will never be revealed to our readers.”
Rawina says, “If you can I’d like my real name in the headline for the whole world to see. The fact that I dug in trash heaps just for a meal disgraced only the men who blockaded our village and did nothing to shame me.”
Jamila says, “First, can I give you a hug?”
Rawina said, “When I am safely in America to speak to audiences of my travels then your hug will be welcome. Until then putting my words in print will be your kindness to me.”
A Red Cross nurse takes Rawina on a ride to an American airbase where she is finally to fly a metal bird to New York. The sun glare from the sand makes Rawina squint. But each bump is a mile marker on the way to Rawina’s dream fulfillment. At last the fat military transport planes are within sight. But suddenly smoke and fire from a roadside bomb swallow them. Rawina is blinded by the smoke. But somehow she walks out of the sooty air only to emerge into clouds of cigarette vapor. The smog of tobacco makes her cough. She finds herself in an apartment with a man who puffs his ciggy like a junkie high on nicotine.
“Rowena the tar from this cancer stick has my voice raspy. Could you get me a glass of water to smooth my throat? Oh, maybe water isn’t what I need. Get me a shot of whiskey. It may not soothe my voice but perhaps I won’t care for a while.”
Ro replies, “Your lungs must be black as a coal miner. They call them suicide sticks for a reason.”
“Don’t worry darling. I’ll give it up next time Lent comes around.”
“You aren’t Catholic and between the booze and cigs you may not make it to Lent.”
“Damn, I lost my lighter again. Honey, could you rummage around and find it for me?”
“Not on your life. I won’t aid and abet your habit.”
He says, “We’re all dying slowly.”
Ro replies, “No need to speed it up. I will not be an accomplice to murder.”
“I’ll quit the stick when we get back to earth, I promise.”
Ro replies, “You crazy coot, we are on earth.”
The guy retorts, “Listen, I know I ought to be in Bellevue. But the bellhop told me the only exit from this hotel leads back to earth. No kidding.”
Rowena replies, “If this is heaven don’t pollute it with chain-smoking.”
“Mint Juleps will provide a fragrant substitute for these coffin-nails once we cross the river.”
Rowena replies, “Are we going to where the magnolias bloom in spring?”
“Oh yeah, baby, south, where the mockingbird sings our song and pretty girls grow like blackberries on the vine.”
Ro replies, “I better be your only blackberry or you’ll feel my stickers.”
Her family had scattered to the four winds after their village became a smoking ruin. So she wandered the desert in a daze. At the age of twenty when most are just starting off in life, she was a refugee. Finally, Rawina found herself more chaperoned than captured by the strangest soldier in an ISIS uniform. He opened the door for her as though he was a gentleman. He said, “Good afternoon. May I take you out for a bite to eat?” It was like he was escorting her on a date.
Rawina replies, “Thank you for the offer. However, my lunch date is just late. He should arrive any minute now. If I didn’t have prior arrangements I surely would take you up on your offer. After all, you seem like a nice man and no doubt we’d have loads to talk about.”
This was the most peculiar abduction she could imagine. It was as though she could just walk away and he wouldn’t pursue her. But she didn’t want to take a chance given these guys rap sheets.
Her heart pounded like it was trying to escape the cage of her ribs. The bearded man said, “Hey, my clothing is just camouflage. I’m not one of the bad guys. I’m here to take you to safety.”
She said, “Well when you put it that way, of course, I’ll accept your offer. My boyfriend is always late, which is one of the reasons our relationship is on the skids.”
The man gave Rawina a pillow to sit on because the road was bumpy. But there was a pleasant breeze upon her face. The man said, “It is a beautiful day for a drive to Kurdistan.”
She broke out in laughter. “You are dressed like an ISIS fighter. But now I see that is a ploy.”
“I’m an undercover agent whose mission is to help you on this fine spring day. My apologies but here is a one size fits all hijab. You must wear it out here, just until we cross the Kurdish border.”
Rawina said, “I can’t wait to let the flames consume that thing.”
He said, “In America women once burned their bras. Here women burn their hijab.”
She said, “What will they think of an ISIS fighter approaching?”
He replied, “Any Diva will agree the wardrobe must be right for the occasion. Mine includes the Kurdish Liberation Front uniform. But it couldn’t hurt for you to wave white flags.”
Rawina asked, “Do you roam ISIS territory looking for women to save?”
He replied, “The rescue gig suits me better than being a warrior. My rifles aren’t loaded. Surrounded by enemies a gunfight would be pointless.”
“Do you mean you’re unarmed out here?”
“Prayer is my secret weapon.”
When they arrive at the Kurdish outpost he says, “Farewell, my gentle lady. It was a pleasure serving you.”
Rawina replies, “You mean you’re not staying? Please, you’ve done your duty. Don’t let your legacy end in martyrdom. You must have a family. They need you alive. I need to know you are safe.”
“Don’t worry about me. One day when the dust settles down we’ll have some tea and remember this day. Until then keep your chin up and don’t let life get you down.”
Rawina replies, “You’ll be in my heart forever. I owe you my life but give me a goodbye hug.”
UN Peacekeepers took Rawina to a refugee camp where her family waited. A journalist said, “Hello Rawina. My name is Jamila. I am here to tell your story to America because Americans have too much fear-mongering and too little compassion for your people. We also believe men are the primary agents of war.”
“I refuse to bad mouth men because a man rescued me,” Rawina says.
“You were saved by a man from other men.”
“You are the first person in this camp to take an interest in my story. So where do I begin?”
Jamila says, “You are so young and brave. But your name will never be revealed to our readers.”
Rawina says, “If you can I’d like my real name in the headline for the whole world to see. The fact that I dug in trash heaps just for a meal disgraced only the men who blockaded our village and did nothing to shame me.”
Jamila says, “First, can I give you a hug?”
Rawina said, “When I am safely in America to speak to audiences of my travels then your hug will be welcome. Until then putting my words in print will be your kindness to me.”
A Red Cross nurse takes Rawina on a ride to an American airbase where she is finally to fly a metal bird to New York. The sun glare from the sand makes Rawina squint. But each bump is a mile marker on the way to Rawina’s dream fulfillment. At last the fat military transport planes are within sight. But suddenly smoke and fire from a roadside bomb swallow them. Rawina is blinded by the smoke. But somehow she walks out of the sooty air only to emerge into clouds of cigarette vapor. The smog of tobacco makes her cough. She finds herself in an apartment with a man who puffs his ciggy like a junkie high on nicotine.
“Rowena the tar from this cancer stick has my voice raspy. Could you get me a glass of water to smooth my throat? Oh, maybe water isn’t what I need. Get me a shot of whiskey. It may not soothe my voice but perhaps I won’t care for a while.”
Ro replies, “Your lungs must be black as a coal miner. They call them suicide sticks for a reason.”
“Don’t worry darling. I’ll give it up next time Lent comes around.”
“You aren’t Catholic and between the booze and cigs you may not make it to Lent.”
“Damn, I lost my lighter again. Honey, could you rummage around and find it for me?”
“Not on your life. I won’t aid and abet your habit.”
He says, “We’re all dying slowly.”
Ro replies, “No need to speed it up. I will not be an accomplice to murder.”
“I’ll quit the stick when we get back to earth, I promise.”
Ro replies, “You crazy coot, we are on earth.”
The guy retorts, “Listen, I know I ought to be in Bellevue. But the bellhop told me the only exit from this hotel leads back to earth. No kidding.”
Rowena replies, “If this is heaven don’t pollute it with chain-smoking.”
“Mint Juleps will provide a fragrant substitute for these coffin-nails once we cross the river.”
Rowena replies, “Are we going to where the magnolias bloom in spring?”
“Oh yeah, baby, south, where the mockingbird sings our song and pretty girls grow like blackberries on the vine.”
Ro replies, “I better be your only blackberry or you’ll feel my stickers.”
John
