Matt and Imamu looked at themselves in the floor-length mirror. \u201cNow we look like proper Jihadis<\/i>,\u201d Imamu said with a hidden grin. \u201cLet’s go, the funeral’s almost over.\u201d<\/p>\n
Covered in black cloth from head to toe with only a small strip to see through, the two looked like they just stepped in from the desert locales where all the videos came from. All they needed was the AK47. Matt looked up at his mentor, larger and older than himself and thought they looked dark and dangerous, powerful. He liked the feeling.<\/p>\n
Imamu owned and operated the laundromat where Matt’s mom used to do their wash, before she got her own washer and dryer. He loved his Moms; she had worked so hard, overtime every day, to save up enough for that little luxury. Matt was glad because he had to help her carry the wash down the street from their 4th floor apartment and then back again. He met Imamu at the laundromat one afternoon when the man was maintaining his machines.<\/p>\n
Imamu took an immediate shine to the young boy and Matt, fatherless, responded in kind. Also a cleric for the local mosque, Imamu spent much time initiating the boy in the teachings of Mohammed, liberally salted with radical politics. Matt’s mom, a staunch, practicing Southern Baptist who took Matt to church every Sunday, didn’t care much for Islam but thought it was important her son be allowed to make up his own mind about what to believe. She trusted her son. Matt, basically a good kid, wasn’t ready to convert to Islam but he did find it interesting. He didn’t mention the politics to her because Imamu said not to,\u00a0she wouldn’t understand.<\/p>\n
A lot of people were on the street near the church where the funeral of another black victim of horrible police brutality was coming to a close. There were many signs, from home made jobs\u2014cardboard and magic markers, to professionally printed placards with big red letters. \u201cNo Justice, No Peace!\u201d most of them said.<\/p>\n
The two black clad men went into the crowd. \u201cAhh, over here,\u201d Imamu said and they went over to a group of others similarly clad as themselves. He saw Femi, one of his best friends and another of Imamu’s erstwhile disciples.<\/p>\n
Imamu was in animated conversation with another adult in black clothing. \u201cAll we have to do is get it started,\u201d the other said. \u201cThen sit back and let it play out.\u201d The man pointed to a drug store down the street. \u201cStation some men down there,\u201d he said. \u201cand have them throw some bricks through the storefront windows when I give the signal.\u201d<\/p>\n
Imamu collected Matt and Femi and they\u00a0began to make\u00a0their way down the street. They passed animated protestors who faced grim, stony faced, armored police, palpable tension on a slow boil. Demonstrators shouted a cacophony, together and at random: \u201cNo justice, no peace!\u201d, \u201cDon’t shoot!\u201d, \u201cBlack lives matter!\u201d<\/p>\n
They were almost to the drugstore when Femi said, \u201cHey, Matt, isn’t that your moms?\u201d<\/p>\n
The moment Matt looked to where Femi was pointing, he saw that it was his mother and, in the same instant, she locked eyes with him. She can’t know it’s me, he thought, not in this costume. He was wrong.<\/p>\n
\u201cMatthew Johnson Davis! I know it’s you!\u201d she said as she rushed up to him like a charging bear. \u201cWhat the hell do you think you’re doing?\u201d She slapped him ‘upside his head’ and grabbed at his hood, trying to pull it off. She shot a glare at Imamu, \u201cYou did this,\u201d she scowled fiercely, \u201cI know what you’re up to and I won’t let you get away with it!\u201d Matt had never seen his moms so angry and was afraid.<\/p>\n
Imamu only stared back. She couldn’t see the quivering smile behind his mask.<\/p>\n
She slapped at her son again, \u201cYou get home and get that hateful clothing off right now!\u201d she nearly screamed. \u201cGet moving or I’ll kick your black ass the whole way! MOVE!\u201d This she did scream at the top of her lungs.<\/p>\n
She harried him down the street, away from the demonstration. \u201cI didn’t work my ass off my whole life so we could live decently, so we could have some peace and quiet, some small happiness, some kind of future, just so some moron kid can go burn it all down. What the hell are you thinking, Matthew? I thought I taught you better.\u00a0I thought I taught you the important things. You’d better get your priorities straight, kid!\u201d She went upside his head again.<\/p>\n
Imamu watched them as they left the scene. That woman’s trouble, he thought, I’d better stay away from her . . . and her kid.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Matt and Imamu looked at themselves in the floor-length mirror. \u201cNow we look like proper Jihadis,\u201d Imamu said with a hidden grin. \u201cLet’s go, the funeral’s almost over.\u201d Covered in black cloth from head to toe with only a small strip to see through, the two looked like they just stepped in from the desert … Continue reading Mama Told Me Not to Come<\/span>