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donnylaja
Dareen: The Story of NakedGirl, Part 8
Wed Jun 13, 2018 10:04am
68.196.0.234

Dareen: The Story of NakedGirl, Part 8

She sat up, reaching forward to clutch the tips of her unbra-ed breasts
as they pressed out against her white flannel pajamas. Something was
wrong, or about to be. Though she scowled with concentration, she couldn't
sense anything more specific. But the ominous feeling of foreboding was
unmistakeable. Something bad was about to happen.

She hopped to the kitchen, through the tacked-up blanket that served as
her temporary door until Pedro fixed the old one, still holding her
breasts. Elly had gone out. Thinking about what to do, it occurred to her
that the tingling was exactly the feeling she had all over her body that
stormy night just before she was struck by lighting, or by whatever that
was. Only now it was just in her nipples, not all over.

She said a short prayer. Allah, please see fit to make my mind clear.
What was wrong exactly? But nothing came to her. She ran to Elly's room,
still holding her bouncing breasts, and looked out the window, the window
she had flown through last night. It was a bright, bright day, not a cloud
in the sky. People walking on the street below. But somehow she felt the
need to go back to looking at the sky. So blue. So clear. Now the
tingling got stronger.

She had to do something. Report it to the police. But what? With
mounting anxiety she decided to get dressed and head for the police
station. Maybe it would come to her on the way. As she got into her usual
sunny-day outfit of bulky T-shirt, unbuttoned sweater and jeans and
sneakers, she kept telling herself: no, this is not crazy. I'm not sure
why I'm going to the police but I'm not a crank. I've been given special
powers and right now those powers are telling me something. Of course, if
that's how I put it they'll think -

She brushed these thoughts aside and bounded out onto the sidewalk and
walked briskly, ignoring the double-take by the occasional guy at her
bouncing frontal assets. The police station was five blocks away and she
lumbered on up there, somewhat more slowly during the last block because
"it" still hadn't come to her. What should she tell them?

She stood there in front of the station like an idiot, hesitating about
going in. A deep breath. The tingling was getting stronger. Wait. She
just had to wait. She decided to lean against the low concrete wall, below
the surveillance camera, and wait.

An officer walked by. "Can I help you, miss?"

"I'm . . . I'm waiting for a friend who wants to apply for her ID
card," Dareen lied. "Her English isn't too good and she wants my help."

With a little smile the officer said, "I understand," and walked into
the station.

A moment later, Dareen saw it -- a little metal-bullet kind of rocket
flying high over the city, vaguely familiar, and now she grabbed the bottom
of her T-shirt and hesitated before pulling it off, she began trying to
step out of her sneakers -- and then -

. . . .

In the middle of the sleepy sunny Sunday afternoon, the blinding flash
of light, the intense hissing sound, were things that all Atlantans would
remember the rest of their lives. As the flash died the people who were
outdoors wanted to panic but found themselves frozen in their steps. 9/11!
9/11! 9/11! The numbers ran through everyone's head, it was the first
thing and the second thing and the third thing they thought about. Hearts
were in mouths. Eyes closed, people prayed.

When eyes opened there thankfully was no destruction. But there was a
quiet and in a moment everyone realized what it was. The lights were out.
Air conditioners were silent. Cars were stalled. Inside, computer screens
were dark. Cell phones did not work.

And the people of Atlanta slowly began moving again, making their way
this Sunday afternoon in a city with no electricity, no radio waves, no
frequencies, no lights, nothing except their own muscle power in a city
full of the inert carcasses of dead technology.

. . . .

Dareen bunched up in a ball on her bed, shaking and crying. Oddly in
her distress fatigue overcame her and she fell asleep. When she woke up it
was early evening and she realized she was hearing the sounds of cars
outside. She reached over and turned on the nightstand. The lamp went on.
Was that whole thing a dream?

Evidently not. Elly came through the blanket curtain and wordlessly
embraced her friend. "Did that really happen?" Dareen said sleepily.

"Oh Dar, I thought the world was ending, I thought we were 9/11 right
here in Atlanta," Elly said. "Shit. I was over at the bodega and I
actually got down and prayed. Thank goodness it wasn't a -- an exploding
bomb. Everything came back after an hour or so. Just some kind of
electromagnetic pulse, the radio said. But computers all over are still
...ed up and the trains are still out. . . Dar, I feel like going to
mosque."

Dareen stood up and thought. It would be a long walk with no trains,
but . . ." Good idea." She needed something to comfort her now. Some news
would comfort her too. "Let's find out more."

They turned on the TV. The local news reported the general chaos and
how the city was getting back under control. The governor had declared a
state of emergency, the President was flying in. They were finishing up an
interview with the mayor. "This is clearly a terrorist act and thank
goodness no one was killed. But this bomb was crippled our city and the
technology is clearly a threat to our Western civilization." And now the
screen switched to a newscaster who said, "No terrorist group has claimed
responsibility for this bombing. As the mayor just said, thankfully no one
was killed, at least not directly. Yet there are 17 people in area
hospitals who are in critical condition because various life suppport
devices were out."

"Oh no!" Dareen said, her heart thumping. She returned Elly's puzzled
glance and gulped. "Elly . . . I saw the rocket. It was a rocket that
exploded. I could have -- I could have stopped it."

Elly unwittingly glanced down at Dareen's chest. "How? How could you
know, so you could strip in time? And even then, what would -- Naked Girl
-- do about it?"

"I know somehow I could have . . . maybe grabbed it and threw it far
away." Dareen's wet eyes looked at the screen. Then she closed them.
"Please Allah, let those people in the hospital live. Don't let them die."

Elly embraced Dareen again and spoke into the back of her friend's neck.
"Don't torture yourself. It's not your fault. It's some bad person's.
The people who sent that rocket. THEY'RE to blame."

The phone rang and they broke the embrace. It was Dareen's mother,
tearful. , It took a few minutes for Dareen to calm her down and reassure
her that everything was getting back to normal in the city. "I want you to
come home right now," she said. "Mom, it's O.K.," Dareen said. After a
long silence her mother said, "Remember, be careful outside." Dareen didn't
have to ask what she meant. After the Oklahoma bombing a few years ago,
her brother Kes was chased down the street by some white guys. Fortunately
he outran them and got to his car in time. Muslims, and Arabs especially,
just had to be careful every time something like this happened. Dareen
said, "I'll be careful. I love you, Mother!" It always made her mother
glad to hear that. Dareen was the youngest child and, though it had been
two years, her mother hadn't gotten used to the last of her children now
living away from home.

After they hung up Elly said, "I think we both could use some prayer
right now."

Dareen said, "And people around us. Let's go to mosque like you say.
I'm sure the Imam has it open at a time like this."

The went into their rooms and reappeared with their kerchiefs. Elly
moved to the TV to turn it off. A minister was being interviewed. In the
rolling lilt of a Southern Baptist preacher he said, "That we must pray for
the terrorists' souls does not mean that they and their sympathizers must
go unpunished."

"Shit, I don't need to hear this!" Elly meant to hit the "off" button on
the remote but she hit the "Channel Up" button instead. Now it was the
Cobb News Network. A skinny, long-haired blond woman in a very short skirt
was thundering, "We should invade their countries, kill their leaders, and
convert them all to Christianity!" "Amen to that!" said the adoring news
anchor. Elly finally hit the "off" button and the little kitchen was in
silence.

Elly and Dareen looked at each other. Two women of Middle Eastern
ancestry, going to mosque at a time like this, with the TV encouraging
everyone to hate . . . It was safer for them stay in the apartment, but
the force drawing them to the mosque was powerful. It was the kind of
moment most of us have at some point in our lives, when we are called upon
to be brave and true. The two kerchiefed young women gulped and went out
the door together and started the mile-long walk to Al Hijia Mosque.
NakedGirl: The Story of Dareen, Part 9

[to be continued]

  • Dareen: The Story of NakedGirl, Part 7 - donnylaja, Tue Jun 12 1:04pm
    Dareen: The Story of NakedGirl, Part 7 Pedro Villareal was an amiable fellow of about 30 who lived with his wife Josefina and two kids in one of the basement apartments. Though Elly knew her desire... more
    • Dareen: The Story of NakedGirl, Part 8 - donnylaja, Wed Jun 13 10:04am
      • Dareen: The Story of NakedGirl, Part 9 - donnylaja, Thu Jun 14 2:48pm
        Dareen: The Story of NakedGirl, Part 9 "Allah we pray to you that our fears shall be eased, that we shall not suffer, that the cause of this terrifying bomb shall be discovered and laid to rest." It... more
        • Dareen: The Story of NakedGirl, Part 10 - donnylaja, Fri Jun 15 11:50am
          Dareen: The Story of NakedGirl, Part 10 Looking up at the mountains, in spite of the wind blowing around them which mussed one's hair, one saw the circling eagles, the blue sky with clouds. Tremors... more
          • Dareen: The Story of NakedGirl, Part 11 - donnylaja, Sun Jun 17 8:14pm
            Dareen: The Story of NakedGirl, Part 11 It wasn't a tingling in her nipples, like with that "pulse bomb". But it was a definite feeling that something bad was happening, or about to happen, and she... more
            • Dareen: The Story of NakedGirl, Part 12 - donnylaja, Mon Jun 18 5:39am
              Dareen: The Story of NakedGirl, Part 12 It was a little plastic statuette he had bought at some flea market. A sideways naked white woman with outrageously huge breasts hanging down in perfect... more
              • Dareen: The Story of NakedGirl, Part 13 - donnylaja, Tue Jun 19 11:05am
                Dareen: The Story of NakedGirl, Part 13 If one looked really closely from the west Tennessee cornfield, one could see it. A tiny speck slowly moving across the sky, obviously a far-away airplane.... more
                • Dareen: The Story of NakedGirl, Part 14 - donnylaja, Wed Jun 20 5:28am
                  Dareen: The Story of NakedGirl, Part 14 She just had to giggle as she flew, making her breasts jiggle as she sped toward another call on this humid, foggy night. She got a big kick out of Rayette... more
          • Very well done thus far. I wrote a story with the same basic title back in 2004. Still sitting unfinished on my asstr page after all these years. For the past few months I've been working up the... more
            • thanks - donnylaja, Mon Jun 18 10:50am
              I've read your story and it's amazing how we came up with such similar ideas at about the same time. Mine, also, was written in 2004 and was attuned to the politics of that year. In some places you... more
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