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Authors: Lloyd Johnson

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BOOK: Living Stones
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Ashley looked puzzled. Was he kidding or serious? “Hmm . . . yeah . . . correct. Now, not all Christians in this country feel this way. Not all Americans do. But our church does and many hundreds of evangelical churches in the U.S. seem to. These beliefs and attitudes vary a lot. It’s hard to explain, Najid, but most of us don’t even realize how we naturally champion one side only.”

Najid shook his head. “I didn’t know that. You don’t care about justice for our people?”

“We mostly don’t even
know
about your people. We hear only about Israel and the occasional rocket attack by the Palestinians from Gaza.”

Najid sat staring out the window, shaking his head.

“So, Najid, put yourself in my parents’ shoes. You have been brought up to believe this way and never question it. It’s right out of the Bible, or at least the best interpretation of it. So when your daughter is nearly killed in a synagogue bombing and seems to be drifting toward friendship with a Palestinian ‘bad’ man, you object. You are rude to him and pay no attention to him—almost like he isn’t even in the room. You don’t want him in your daughter’s circle of friends.”

“I had no idea that is how they felt about me or why! Now I understand, Ashley. We can’t be friends anymore?”

“Oh, no, no, no! You are my friend and always will be, Najid. You saved my life. You are a real gentleman, and one of the nicest men I’ve ever known.”

Najid gazed silently out the window. Finally he spoke softly. “But can we be friends if your parents don’t approve of me?”

“I’m a grown woman, Najid, and I will do what I think is best. And you are the best.” She reached out to squeeze his left hand.

Najid placed his right hand over his heart and nodded his thank you.

Chapter 22

Robert enjoyed driving his red Corvette with the top down in the late May warmth, past parks with rhododendrons still in bloom. Nine days after the bombing, it seemed safe. No one would link such a car with jihad. Jenny chatted about her classes as she directed Robert to the church. They had to cross Lake Washington on a floating bridge. She pointed out Mount Rainier to the south, shining white and huge in the morning sun, and Mount Baker far to the north.

“Our church is in Bellevue.”

“What’s it like, Jenny?”

“It’s hard to explain. Do you go to any church?”

“I went once; you know, for a funeral, with my parents.”

“Well, you’ll find this quite different.”

Robert drove on in silence, wondering what he had agreed to do. But strange or not, it would provide good cover. At least it got him out of his room.

Robert stared at the front of the auditorium as they walked into a row near the back with comfortable-looking upholstered dark seats. But they didn’t sit. Hundreds of people, standing, sang and clapped rhythmically to the music of a band on stage. It had drums, guitars, electric bass, a keyboard, and big speakers, just like any rock concert. The three leaders stood and sang into microphones as everyone followed words to the song projected on large screens on both sides. Jenny sang along. A large empty cross covered the back wall. Wasn’t Jesus supposed to be on it? Then he saw the two flags on either side of the stage: one American, the other Israeli. He shook his head. He didn’t know whether he could handle this.

Finally after more songs and a prayer, to Robert’s relief, they sat. The pastor stood behind the lectern and told the people to turn in their Bibles to Genesis chapter twelve. Jenny reached for one in the rack in front of them and quickly found the passage. Everyone dropped their heads to read along.

The text said something about Abram, later called Abraham, and some special blessing of God for him, and even curses for his enemies. All nations would be blessed through Abram.

The minister closed the Bible and explained that this applied to Israel today since Jews traced their ancestors back to Abram. He moved to a high stool and sat down. He said this special Sunday honored Israel, and that they support Israel because “it heralds the soon return of Jesus.” Robert couldn’t understand how Israel fit with Jesus.
Didn’t he start a different religion?

Pastor Tom Evans shared his compassion and respect for Israel for enduring all its suffering at the hands of the Palestinians, and explained that it fulfills God’s plan for this time in history. “We must support Israel’s survival,” he said. Then he recommended ways to contribute money to Israeli projects. Robert almost walked out, but realized it wouldn’t look good and would upset Jenny.

Robert seethed inside, trembling as they drove home, but said nothing. Jenny remained quiet for several minutes. Finally she spoke.

“What did you think, Robert?”

He couldn’t tell her what he really thought. Would he have to go through this again next Sunday?

“Is this, like, what you do every Sunday?”

“No. We are strong supporters of Israel, but you got in on a special Sunday today when we honor them. It happens fairly infrequently.”

Robert felt nauseated and terribly agitated. His hands shook on the steering wheel.

“Will you be coming next week?” Jenny added a musical lilt to her question.

He wondered why women talked that way, high notes and low notes. He liked being with her. But was this worth going through just for trying to cover his tracks? He could stand it for an hour, he supposed. Or maybe he could put up with that stuff just to be with Jenny. “Yeah, I’ll pick you up at the same time and place.”

Chapter 23

Ashley recovered fully over the next few weeks. Najid had found a group of international students, Christians, several of whom had Muslim backgrounds. Their group met on Friday evenings. He and Ashley discussed many of the issues between Muslims and Christians over coffee, and she learned a great deal from Najid’s experience. She began to attend her own church again.

On a Sunday in mid-June during the sermon, her eyes wandered to a young man with black hair sitting next to an attractive young lady. He slouched in his seat, head down, not asleep, but possibly reading. Ashley couldn’t tell. He didn’t seem to be interested in the sermon and stood up very slowly at the end of the service. He didn’t sing the last song. She could see that he grimaced a bit at the final words from the pulpit. Ashley then filed out into a crowded foyer near the entrance where the people gathered to talk and greet the pastor. She met friends and chattered about her upcoming trip to Israel.

While mingling she found herself within a few feet of the young man she had noticed. He seemed anxious to leave, with the girl
behind him not happy with his pushing people. Ashley answered her friend’s questions about the planned trip. She had to almost shout because of the crowd noise. She looked up finding the young man staring at her. He had a distinctive red birthmark above his left eye. He quickly moved and shoved his way out the door, turning away from the pastor’s extended hand.

Heading out to lunch with several friends, Ashley wondered aloud who that strange person could be. She couldn’t remember ever seeing him before. And yet his gaze and the red mark on his forehead triggered the thought that she had seen him somewhere in the past. Maybe at church. He had seemed both bored and nervous, certainly anxious to get out the door. Later at home she got out her maps of Israel and Palestine and began to trace the itinerary of their tour. She could hardly wait to go.

Jenny climbed into the passenger seat after church and Robert took off, tires screeching. It put the exclamation point on how he felt.

“You’re going to get a ticket driving like that,” Jenny cautioned.

“Yeah, you’re right, Jenny.” Of all things, he didn’t want a confrontation with the police and getting back into their computer database. He didn’t know what was in there, but he’d had some previous traffic experiences and investigations by police in New York. So he slowed the car and drove her home sedately.

“You pushed your way right out of the church, Robert. You were rude. Why?”

“I needed to get out of there, Jenny.” He didn’t mention the real reason: that blonde. After dropping Jenny off at her rooming house, he decided to drive top down up to Snoqualmie Pass. He had come in on I-90 on his way to Seattle both times and wanted to see the mountains again. Robert stopped at a drive-in for some fast food, put the top down, and punched cruise control for sixty miles per hour so he wouldn’t have to worry about police. He grabbed his cheeseburger, held the steering wheel with his left hand, and put his milkshake between his legs. A cloud shadowed his mind on the
beautiful sunny day in June.

His mind raced.
That blonde at church. She looked familiar
. He had seen her somewhere. Robert needed to find the answer, but how? He had heard a bit of her conversation over the crowd noise, and even been close enough to hear something about her recovery and a trip to Israel with a group from the church in July. When she glanced up she had looked into his eyes. Just for a moment.
Oh no, the synagogue!
His eyes widened and mouth dropped open. “Shit!” he shouted, banging on the steering wheel. “No! Yes! She’s the one.”

He was certain that was the girl he had exchanged glances with at the synagogue bombing, the girl across the street who saw him. Their eyes had met then, just like today. Just before the explosion. He had seen her on the sidewalk, bleeding, he had assumed to death. But she had dropped out of the news after a week or so. She obviously had recovered, and that’s what she spoke about. But also about a trip to Israel sponsored by the church.

He had looked away quickly today, but maybe not quickly enough. She must have recognized him! The more he thought about it, the more sure he became. He knew now that she would remember him. No doubt about it. She would go to the police and tell them. But she didn’t know his name or anything about him. If he never went back to that church, she’d never see him again. Thank Allah he had never signed a visitor’s card. He had better lie low and hide in his room. No, that would be too obvious. He should continue attending Seattle Central Community College as though nothing had happened. He would see Jenny and tell her no more church. She would understand. It would be natural since she already knew he didn’t like it.

By the time he passed Denny Creek Campground, Robert had a plan worked out, but he had to get more information.

On Monday after class, Robert found an empty office at the college.
Maybe it’s good they don’t have pay telephone booths anymore
, he thought. Too easy to trace. He called the church office and asked to speak to someone about the trip to Israel coming up. The operator
rang another office, and a lady informed him she volunteered on Monday and didn’t know very much about the trip, but would be happy to answer any questions she could with the information available. She didn’t ask his name.

“It’s a great opportunity for you,” she said. “The cost is only nineteen hundred dollars for ten days there, and that includes airfare, hotels, transfers, and some meals. That’s what it says here on the brochure.”

“That’s a good price,” Robert said. “What are the dates of the trip?”

“Let’s see . . . you would leave on July tenth and return to Seattle on the twenty-fourth.”

BOOK: Living Stones
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