Chapter 19: Prayer

566 101 20
                                    

     Sam spent his lunch chatting with Rana and then excused himself to do his homework. While studying, he would occasionally glance up and watch Rana helping Khadijah with her science experiment. Rana had everything any kid would want as a mother, but she had sacrificed her own life and happiness for those around her. The people around her meant more to her than her own life. Why does she remind me so much of Mom? It seems like everyone knows her everywhere she goes and she's always respected by these people. She doesn't mince words even if it'll hurt you. Sam managed to finish his homework and watched while Khadijah excitedly giggled once her potato clock began to work. He smiled unconsciously at how infectious the little girl's own personality was. She seemed to truly be fascinated by science, which was rare for someone her age. He decided to pack up and head home when his phone rang. 

     "Sam?" An unknown voice asked from the other end of the line. The voice seemed hollow as if speaking to him from another dimension. Sam couldn't sense any emotion in the voice and pondered who it could be. Strangers rarely called his phone, unless it was a wrong number or a spam call.

     "Yes? Who is this?" Sam asked cautiously.

     "My name is Dennis Walkers. I'm your father's supervisor . There seems to have been a situation with your father," Dennis began. 

     Sam felt his mouth go dry as his hand shook involuntarily. Why was this man calling him? Why wasn't his father calling him if there was an incident? He tried forming words, but felt as if an abyss of nothingness had opened in his mind. 

     "Sam? Are you there?" Dennis called again. "Please listen to me, it's an emergency." 


 ***************

     Sam raced past the sliding doors that led to the emergency room. Dad. Dad, no. This can't happen. Not to you. You're all I have. No, Dad. No! He spotted a familiar face near the reception area and clutched the man's sleeved arm.

     "Mr. Hashemi. Is my dad-?" Sam barely managed before his voice cracked.  He looked at the tall man who in turn placed a reassuring hand over his shoulder. 

     "You need to breathe, Sam," Ahmed whispered seriously. "Look at me. Calm down. This is the best hospital in the city. You need to calm down." 

      Rana, who carried a now sleeping Khadijah, hurried over to Ahmed and gave him a worried look of question. Sam struggled to breathe and tried composing himself. When Dennis explained that Max had a heart attack when he arrived at work, his phone clattered to the floor and he felt as if he were having a panic attack. He had just seen his father in the morning. If he had left the cafe earlier, maybe he could have taken him to the hospital before anything happened. Ahmed scooped Khadijah in his arms and whispered something to Rana before leaving the hospital. Rana turned the the teenager and placed her hand on his shoulder. 

     "Your dad is okay," Rana began, "but still unconscious. They are still in surgery so Im not sure yet as to how severe his heart attack was. The doctors are all Ahmed's acquaintances so Max will receive the best care available in this city."

     "He could have died, Ms. Hashemi. He could have died a-a-and I don't have anyone else. I-I-," Sam began, but paused again once his breath hitched and he found himself battling tears. 

      Rana steered Sam towards an empty row of seats and forced him to sit. She held Sam's hands in her own and looked at him as the young teen wept. She knew how painful loss was when it came to parents. She understood it better than anyone. With this in mind, she let the teen weep while she reassuringly held his hands. 

     Sam wiped his tears and looked up at Rana. The concern and understanding on her face could be seen vividly in her jade eyes. He had wept in front of someone he had never wanted to cry in front of. He admired Rana and didn't want her to see him at his weakest. She had come to his aide at his time of need, her brother taking care of everything at the hospital before they arrived. When his phone fell from his hands upon hearing about his father, and his knees buckled, Rana rushed to him to steady him. Every action coming from her held a maternal vibe that Sam hadn't encountered in years.

     "The doctors will tell you everything you need to know. Ahmed told me your dad is still in surgery, but he's okay," Rana whispered before allowing the teen to wipe his face. 

     "I don't think we have insurance. When Mom got sick, we lost everything. I have to start working. I-I mean-maybe-," Sam stuttered and let out a shaky breath. 

      "Sam, you will have to calm down in order to get through this. You don't have to worry about the hospital bills or anything. My brother has taken care of that, but you will have to be strong for your father. You will have to pay attention to everything the doctor says because like you said, you're all he has and he's all you have," Rana whispered.

     "Wha-what d-do you mean? H-how did you pay the bills?" Sam asked, the shock of someone doing that for him evident on his face.

     "When my parents passed away, I swore I'd do anything to make sure no one else's parents pass away at the hospital. Ahmed succeeded better than me, financially, so he took over that promise. He paid for your father's treatment. Technically he hasn't paid anything yet, but he will. You won't have to worry about bills, okay? Just focus on getting him better," Rana whispered softly.

     "How? I-I'm just a kid. I c-can't do anything. The doctors will do stuff, but I-I-I'm useless," Sam whispered in frustration, tears forming again in his eyes. 

     "That's where you're wrong. You're his son. In our religion, there is no greater prayer than a child who prays for their parents. Pray for him, however you want. I think there's a chapel here where you can go and pray. I'll take you if you like," Rana suggested. 

     "Yes, please. I want to do that," Sam nodded quickly and stood up. He followed the tall soldier and thought of everything he wanted to say in his prayer. It was apparent that Rana knew exactly where the chapel was and wondered how many times his father's high school friend had visited the hospital. Rana placed her hand on the doorknob to the room labeled "chapel" and glanced at her phone while it buzzed.

     "Uh, it's Ahmed. Take as much time as you need, okay? I'll talk to Ahmed and head back to the waiting room. This place is open all night, so pray to your hearts content," Rana explained and placed her hand on Sam's shoulder reassuringly before answering her phone. The tall soldier headed back down the hall they had originally departed from, leaving the blue-haired teenager standing at the chapel's doorway.

     He opened the door apprehensively and noticed that there was already a man praying in the corner, sitting at one of the pews. Sam quietly closed the door behind him and sat down at the back of the room. He bowed his head and felt tears cascading down his cheeks as he whispered, 

      "I don't know how my dad prays to you. I don't know how this works either. I'll ask you, God. I'll ask you for a miracle. I believe you exist. Your message was the same to your messengers, Abraham, Moses, and Muhammad. You created us and you are one. You're omnipotent and powerful and you created me. I only believe in you because through all Abrahamic faiths, you have been the constant. Please, God, please save my dad. If you want me to bow to the ground like my dad does, I will. I don't care what I have to do to get my prayer to you, but please, God, please-." 

     He paused in shock. He realized that he had underlined what he believed in when it came to religion. It took his father's illness for him to confront his thoughts and feelings when it came to religion. His hands shook at the realization that he DID believe in an omnipotent Creator with no equals. He believed the universal message of Abraham, of Jesus, and even Muhammad. Sam looked up with tears perched on his water line and whispered, 

     "There is no God, but God and Muhammad was one of his messengers. Oh my God.  I-I'm Muslim." 

Blue-Haired MuslimWhere stories live. Discover now