Some time early in May, the stinging heat of the summer months was just begun by the sun finally coming up directly overhead above the Gulf Coast latitudes, no longer riding the southern half of the skies and only somewhat warming the earth. It was now beginning to permanently warm the land and water from the last of the spring chill left over from the end of the short southern winters. As Onyx looked out over his home city of Lafayette, Louisiana getting closer underneath him, he saw the expanse of the city, the Atchafalaya Basin to its immediate east, and the Bayou Teche almost right next to it. He stepped out of the plane onto the terminal at the Lafayette Regional Airport, right next to the Atchafalaya, and asked one of the skycaps who was wearing only the hat and not the uniform shirt, "How is the weather outside?"

"Hot like cayenne pepper, baby," the man said, exposing a mouth full of gold teeth as he talked. "But it ain't muggy yet, though." He had the local accent, which was identical to that of the New Orleans evacuees who had been there since 2005. Onyx thanked him and grabbed his bag from baggage claim.

He took the rental car for a little spin around the Lafayette area this time, enjoying the beauty of this early summer day before the real summer humidity set in and forced the people inside to escape its glare and oppression. Anyone who had no air conditioning in Louisiana was guaranteed to suffer from July until September. In the meantime, Onyx enjoyed the view of Lafayette. The old-style homes with tin roofs painted white to reflect the heat of the sun in these months. The Creole-style homes raised from the ground maybe two or three feet to keep out pests and allow ventilation underneath the homes. All of the green of everything in full bloom. Even the sound of the birds and cicadas welcomed him back and brought back his memories of his childhood there. "Yeah," he said to himself. "Not exactly home anymore, but unforgettable a place when I'm away."

After a little tour of the area, he turned directly to his parent's house and went there to them. "Did you sleep well?" his dad asked him after hugging him and helping him with all of the bags. "Yeah, I actually got this doctor to give me some sleeping pills for the trip, so I slept all the way between Germany and Dallas." Onyx looked at his father's face, thinking to himself how much his dad looked like a Black Michael Douglas. "I won't have to sleep again for another four hours at least."

"Well good, man," said his mother. "I made this gumbo and ham hocks for you, son." When she saw the look on his face, she laughed at him. "I wouldn't cook ham hocks for you, man, I'm just playing," to which they all laughed. "We got you some crawfish instead, it's in season now." Around the dinner table, they all peeled and ate the crawfish that Mr. and Mrs. Sinigal had gotten for their son. "Bet you can't get this in Kuwait, huh, man?" she said to him.

"You know, I really couldn't get it there, but I could get it in Oman, though. Kuwait City has all kinds of food except for Louisiana cuisine. They got crawfish, but only at the Chinese restaurants there."

"Arabs eat at Chinese restaurants?" asked Dad, who had been nicknamed Dada before he had even had his first child, Onyx's older sister.

"Malaysians do, not so much the Arabs, though. They eat whatever white people eat, to be honest."

"I knew it, that's why I couldn't be one of them. They look up to white people who slapped them around and crap on Black people that never done nothin' to 'em!" Dada had said this about 500 hundred times already ever since even before Onyx had become Muslim while still living in Lafayette.

"Yeah, yeah, I know, the Arabs are racist, too. For the 501st time, I know that. Everyone craps on niggas. Waaaaaa!" Onyx cried sarcastically. "But they pay me well even though I'm Black and after ten years of teaching there, I can retire you two for at least ten years since you have no more mortgage. You think I'm there because I love Arabs? I don't even eat Arabic cooking unless none of them are looking! I hide the fact that I like some of their food from them."

"Shoot, man, I know you ain't there to become no Arab! But I ain't never gonna let them off the hook for that slave trade they started. They were the first to trade Blacks slaves before the Europeans did it."

"They enslaved everybody, Dad, even Arabs themselves, but you got a valid point about them being racist still. They're only really racist when it comes to marriage and ideas of beauty, but they won't discriminate by law over there or have jim crow. Still, I don't care. A racist is a racist and for any Muslim to be racist is even worse, so I don't let them off the hook, either. The ones that are my friends have issues with white folks that even I don't have, but that might be why we're friends. They don't like what the whites did and are doing to their country."

"It doesn't matter what religion people are, everyone's racist, and it ain't white folks they hate, either," said Mama S. "No, it's always the darkest people everyone else hates. That's why I think all religions are the same. I know you don't agree, Onyx, but that's what I think," she said raising her hand. "I mean, I know one thing about Arabs that just really burns me up. They still call Black people slaves but they don't call whites anything except white. What did we ever do to them? Maybe that's the problem. We never did anything to them," she speculated.

"Yeah, they have colorized the word slave in their cultures. I mean, slave and Black are two different words in their language, but they have a problem with calling Blacks slaves even when they have white Russians in their countries just begging for money on the corners. But that's why many of them aren't my friends. I hate the majority of them because they're complete sellouts. In every context. And they hate not just darker people, they hate poor people, too. They hate Indians, they hate Pakistanis no matter what complexion, they hate Malaysians and Indonesians, they hate everyone except whoever they're afraid of, and that's the European right now. The white man is their god, to be honest, so most of them aren't really even Muslim anymore. But I will pick a fight with any of them who show this openly. So far, all of them have changed their tune when ever me or my boy from Sudan refuse to tolerate it. They're afraid of the Sudanese because those guys won't tolerate no crap and they will fight in a minute. No one is brave enough to fight a Sudanese except another Sudanese or a Somali, and they don't have any grudges," Onyx explained between mouthfuls of crawfish tails and the soda with which he was washing them down.

They finished their crawfish about 5 in the afternoon, so Onyx and Dada went on a swamp tour on the Atchafalaya Swamp. On the large pontoon boat holding them along with the tourists, they floated past the cypress trees and underneath the egrets flying over them.

Dada, telling Onyx of a reunion that some of Onyx's high school classmates were scheduling, brought up the subject of one of the classmates with whom Onyx had never been on good terms for any length of time. "Everyone should be there, but that also means Justin."

"More like UnJustin!" Onyx chuckled. "Dumb nigga couldn't spell 'just', much less 'justice'."

"I think your mom is working with him sometimes, son."

"That's their business, not mine. As long as he doesn't double-cross her, like steal money from her or anything."

"I don't understand why you think of him the same way after all this time, though. You haven't seen him in 14 years and you think he's still the same dumb teenager you knew back then," Dada questioned. "Everyone who's ever mentioned him to your mother wonders why you still haven't forgiven him. Y'all were kids back then. Did he do something more than what we know about?"

"Nothing you don't know. Something you know and forgot, though. It's the same thing you told me about that makes you hate the Arabs." That clue went over Dada's head, and he would have asked what Onyx meant by that, but he got distracted by his cell phone ringing. Therefore, Onyx didn't clarify it to Dada or anyone else until the actual date of the reunion.

When that day came, it was only a week later. One last cold front had come in from Canada since it was still early in the year, balancing with the Gulf of Mexico's tropical humidity. It made a perfect day for the initial cookout. Under the shade of cypress trees right at the western edge of the Atchafalaya Basin, his classmates from youth got together and barbecued on the grounds of Cajun Cottages.

"What's up, Big Black?" said JR when he showed up. Already, he was going to have to stay a short time only, as JR had a beer in his hand. "You ain't been back in years, huh?"

As they hugged, Onyx answered, "Shut up, nigga! I was back here last Christmas visiting my parents. You were in Houston when I went to your parents' house. How you been doing? I mean when you're not drinking."

"What? What's wrong with me drinking, man? You Muslim now?"

"Drunk nigga, I was Muslim when I last saw you two years ago. You were the one who told me you were giving up drinking and hadn't a drink since four months before that."

"I said that?"

"Yeah, JR. You said it, unless you were possessed at the time by your drunk alter-ego. You know I just want what's gonna cause you the least problems in life." Onyx had never given JR dawah about Islam because while JR was open-minded, he was also undisciplined. He'd probably accept the religion and then show up at the Islamic center in Lafayette drunk or have a girlfriend wait in the car while he prayed Jumuah. Onyx could go back to Kuwait to see foolishness like that if he wanted to.

"Oh s__t! Is that Onyx over there?!" exclaimed a familiar voice. It was Tiffany, whom Onyx had called Fat Tiff back in the day as a response to her calling him every insulting name there was. She had picked up this habit from Justin when they were in middle school. "It's been a long time, nigga. How you been?" she said, hugging him. He was too surprised to hug her back, and didn't want to no matter who she was because they weren't related, but she had pinned his arms in her haste, anyway.

Well, I've been called nigga twice in one minute, so I must be doin' all right, he thought to himself sarcastically. "Doin' great, I'm a lucky man. How have you been doing?"

"How come I haven't seen you in years? Almost ten years now." Anyone who was actually Onyx's friend knew he lived in another country. Tiffany and he were never friends, and now that they were grown and beginning to gray, he thought she was a fake for acting like they had been friends before.

"Probably because I haven't lived in Lafayette for years now."

"Where you been living?"

JR cut in and said, "He's been in Kuwait for two years now. Lived in DC before that."

Then the real Tiffany came out, the one Onyx always knew. "Kuwait? You would live somewhere strange like there! What's wrong, you can't find a job here in your own country?"

"And your Jenny Craig-needing behind would never leave Lafayette after all these years'" he said to her. "What's wrong, you can't carry that gut too far without getting tired? Oh, my bad, did I say that out loud?" he asked sarcastically before shaking JR's hand and walking off from her to his homeboy, Roland.

As soon as Roland saw him, he dropped his plate of food and stood up to hug him. "Aw man! I thought I'd never see you again! How are you, Onyx!?"

"I'm skraight, man," he answered, hugging Roland back tight. "I just can't breathe. How you been?"

"A lot better now, Onyx. Oh, my bad, is it me why you can't breathe?" Roland said, loosening his embrace a bit.

"Yeah, man. Just like old times. Hurt then, too," Onyx laughed, inhaling. Roland had always been strong for his age and size.

"My bad, dawg, my bad. Just glad to see you," Roland apologized. "It's been since college graduation, huh?" he asked, picking his plate back up with whatever had not dropped off of it.

"Yeah, since that summer when I came back for a while. You had any kids since then?"

"Yeah, I had two of them. They're on the way with my wife."

"Congratulations, Roland!" Onyx hugged him again. "You found someone crazy enough to marry you after all these years?!"

"Are you kidding? I married Rayna."

"Y'all fought like cats and dawgs at recess! What happened?"

"She offered me enough money, nigga, that's what!" Roland answered back.

"I did not! You asked me and I agreed to marry your lazy butt!" said a familiar lady's voice from behind Onyx. "Don't let this crazy baby daddy of mine lie to you, mister!" she addressed Onyx directly. "Oh! Is that Onyx from back in the day?!"

"Still Blacker than 1:00 am on a moonless night, Rayna," he smiled politely, not reaching out to hug her but still being warm. He was relieved to see her and Roland. They always had teased each other, but were genuinely just playing unlike he and Tiffany. "You look like you finally got your head on straight after all these years, except you're married to him," he joked. She was holding a baby girl and holding a male toddler's hand, both of whom resembled Roland and Rayna. "Adorable kids, though, just like their adorable mom and pretty-boy dad over here. What are their names?" Onyx kissed the baby girl's hand and shook the little boys hand as Rayna answered him.

"At least we could both find each other. You still a bachelor! And these two are Aminah and Roland, Junior, thank you very much!"

"Bachelor? No, I'm married to two wives, folks."

"I told you to stay away from them split-personality women, but then again it's not like you could get someone sane," Rayna teased him some more. "Wait a minute, is that what you meant?"

"No, it's legal where I live to marry up to four at a time, and I married two," he answered seriously but lightly. "They are both the sweetest things in the world. I'm really lucky to have two sweet hearted-"

"Rewind, nigga! Where do you live?"

"In Kuwait, ma'am, teaching English and history there. That's why it's legal for me."

Rayna was surprised but not outwardly offended. "That's really different. But from you it's even more odd. You would hardly date in high school, but now you got two wives. That's a big leap, Onyx."

"Well, in high school it was really Justin and his mouth that kept me single. I admit I was picky, but he had girls thinking I was gay or a pedophile or just anything but normal. He didn't realize that the rumors he started followed me to college in DC. Can you imagine having to punch a few fags in college because of Justin's mouth back in high school?"

"What happened?" said another voice from behind them. Onyx recognized it immediately. It was Justin. His voice was uniquely scratchy. While Onyx was not sure he would actually see Justin that day, he was very, very, very well-prepared. Roland and Rayna looked down a bit nervously as a look of disdain came over Onyx's ink-black face. Wearing a shaved head now, Justin had no idea it was Onyx until he turned around to look at him. When he did, Justin was a bit taken aback at the disdainful look in his eyes. Onyx took in the face of the guy he still distrusted after more than 13 years of not seeing him in person. A bit aged, but over all the same face. Justin didn't look their exact age, though, because he was dressed like a hip-hop artist, with a cap turned to the side, a do-rag on underneath it, and expensive urban wear. He was a bit fatter now as were most of the people there due to the passing of time and age, but Justin was easily beyond a medium weight. After taking it all in, Onyx decided to look Justin up and down challengingly one time before he answered.

"I was telling him them about your mouth in my life, though only passingly. Now that you're here, I can really get into it, though."

Justin raised his eyebrows as people around got quieter. "You serious?"

"About what exactly? If you mean describing your mouth, I'm serious, just not that determined to do it at this point in time. You look different but the same since the last time I saw you, Justin."

"Different but the same? You mind explaining that?"

"Well, man, I'd ask what the hell you've been eatin' all this time, but it would take you less time to answer if I asked what you haven't been eatin'. Other than that, you look the same, even got the same clothes on. Yet somehow you still managed to fit that shirt around that new gut you got. 29 years old and you dress-- I mean-- you look like you're still 16. How do you do it?" From the way Onyx corrected himself, it was obvious that he meant to remark on Justin's immature dress for his age. "You look like you ready to DJ this event for us, if not rap and dance for us yourself!"

Despite the tension generated when Onyx looked him up and down, people laughed at a low volume at Justin. For the first time, though not meaning to do such, Onyx had made others laugh at Justin. It was true, he was dressed younger then everyone else there, but he was actually was the DJ for the event, which Onyx suspected from knowing that Justin hosted parties and deejayed other events. Justin actually had never had to work a day in his life at a normal 9-to-5 job because he made so much from throwing parties and charging admission to them. Onyx knew about this despite living abroad in another country. Although Onyx never realized that all eyes were on them until they all laughed, it fit into what he had planned. This is too easy, like taking candy from a baby, Onyx thought as he noticed an alligator lazily swimming in the bayou by the park's edge. Since everyone was distracted, they did not notice the danger, as mild a danger as alligators are to people.

However, being laughed at in public was more than Justin could take. He still lived in Lafayette and regularly saw a lot of their high school classmates, especially at his own events. Onyx was just itching to make a few terms plain to Justin only if he saw him, which he did. From Justin's perspective, there was a lot more at stake. Popularity meant nothing to Onyx, only respect. But popularity and respect were necessary to Justin's livelihood unless he wanted to get a regular job for the first time in life at age 29. Also, Onyx was prepared for the possibility of seeing Justin, he just had not known that Justin was there when he was. Justin, on the other hand, had no idea that Onyx was even in town until Onyx turned around and eyeballed him. Psychologically, he was unprepared and caught off-guard, because the last time he had seen Onyx, they were fighting in his front yard before they were broken up, and Onyx told him they would never reconcile until Justin made up for his offenses. Now, 13 years later, Onyx was suddenly in front of him, fully grown, and obviously still unloving of him. He had no time to prepare any witty remarks to dominate him nor any idea if Onyx would start another fight with him. Onyx was not planning to go that far over a grudge from youth, but Justin had no assurance of this.

"Look, nigga!" started Justin. That's three times I've been called nigga in one morning, thought Onyx again. Welcome back to America, huh? "It ain't that funny, and I don't see why you tryin' to clown after all these years. We were 17 and 16 last time we had a fight. That's what teens do. Why can't you get over it? Everyone said you won that fight, anyway. I remember winning myself, but did I trip when everyone said you won?"

"The fact that you gave up the fight means you lost and the fact that you went and claimed to win, anyway, means that you lied. Justin, how did you and I first meet?"

"6th grade. I heard you liked Erica and I wanted to fight about it. You were scared even then, since you asked."

"No, before that. Before even first grade, how did we meet?"

"What are you talking about? I met you in middle school."

"No, you met me on my street when we were in kindergarten. You saw me, and you walked up to me and said, 'You think you bad?' and you hit me in my chest. I hit you in your chest, then we ran from each other. Then years later we met again in 6th grade. You didn't want to fight me about Erica, Justin. You wanted to fight whoever you weren't scared of, and you weren't scared of me. You thought I was scared of you and that was my fault. We had friends in common, lived in the same neighborhood, and I was pro-Black so I reserved fighting you as a last resort. That was why I didn't just go upside your head with a hammer and be done with you, and consequently you misread my forgiveness and patience as fear. You took kindness for weakness. But you know why I won't forgive you now today?"

"'Cause you a bitter li'l punk, nigga. That's why!" Justin was failing the test Onyx had set up for him to determine whether he would patch things up or refuse to do such. Justin was failing so miserably, that he was actually provoking a fight Onyx had not intended.

"No, it's because you did the three things that push that button for me. See, remember how you wanted to fight me about Erica? Remember how you ran away from everyone else that wanted to fight you or even let some of them hit you and get away with it? You have no right to call anyone in here a coward!" Onyx raised his voice. "I fought whoever I needed to, you ran from whoever was your own size or bigger, then ran after my little sister to fight her because she had the good sense to tell you off! I don't care how long ago it was, Justin! I'm a Muslim, so all I care about is did you know right from wrong when you did it! Obviously, you did. You wouldn't have done it if it was right! Now, had you been consistent with everybody I'd be here now treating you however you treat me. None of this unforgiveness is because you were a butthole. It's because you were a butthole to me and a sycophant to others. You singled me out! Ain't no forgiveness for that until you do the absolute reverse, which I don't expect you to do at age 29. Doin' the reverse is what I meant when I told you that it wasn't over until you paid and learned your lesson! I tested you today to see if you learned your lesson, and you obviously haven't."

"Lesson? What lesson? And here you go lying again and talkin' s__t which is why I whipped your black, ugly a__ last time, nigga! I ain't never ran from no fight!" Justin yelled, swelling up like he was ready to fight again.

"Justin, you cowered when my homeboys were at your busstop to confront you about your lying at school and saying that you won that last fight, remember? Roland here was one of them, and you backed down like a li'l prison fag, didn't you!"

"No!"

"Yes, you did, and you're the coward, through and through. Even today! I only said that you lost because you gave up before I pulled a nice trick out of my sleeve which would have beaten you, anyway. I just told the truth. You lied like--"

"You wanna fight again, then, b___! You said you Muslim, right? I'll send you to meet Allah real quick! Come on!" Even at this age, Justin hadn't thought about just admitting he was wrong. His pride and his concern for revenue got in the way, and he was ready to pick up as violently as he had left off. He forgot that usually grown men do not fight for show or reputation, but to kill.

"You insist? I have to tell you the truth as a Muslim; I didn't come here to fight you, but I think I might have to if you insist on it. You know what?"

"What, b___?!" swore Justin, stepping towards Onyx.

"Justin, the reason why we're about to fight this time is because you ran from everyone else and then picked me to fight about made-up grudges I never provoked. I no longer care about race loyalty or friends in common. I care about right and wrong. I'm right and you're wrong, and it's that simple. So your only chance to save your life today is to back down to me publicly right now, like the little punk coward you are, and say you don't want to fight. Swallow your pride and do to me what you did to everyone else; which is get punked. Otherwise, you've challenged me to a fight and I simply cannot outrun even your fat, marshmallow man-looking butt and I'll have to fight in self-defense," Onyx reasoned outloud venomously. "And you or both of us will die."

"He sounds serious, Justin," Roland said. "And to tell the truth, I remember you running away from a lot of fights like a li'l b___ myself, nigga! He's right, you did punk out at the bus stop, soon as you got off the bus! I would have said he should let this go after all these years, but you called him out like you the one ain't grown up none. So if you fight him, you better fight me when you're done with him or before. I don't care which order, but I wanna see if you as brave with someone your own size as you are with nice guys. You fight us both or you do like he said, back down right now!"

"Y'all gangin' up on me! That ain't fair!" Justin complained weakly, the fear obvious. Again, he was showing openly his fear of others and his haste to tangle with Onyx, despite his having surrendered years before.

"Fair?! You'd be runnin' away and drivin' off if you thought we were a fair fight!" yelled Onyx. "And he said fight us one at a time! He ain't say nothin' 'bout crowding your coward a__!" Onyx swore, forgetting his manners. "You know you can't beat Roland, so it's gonna take courage to fight him. Which one are you, courageous or coward! Make up your mind! Hurry up!" Onyx rushed.

"Don't rush me, motherf_____!" swore Justin boldly again, still obviously differing in his response to Roland and to Onyx. Only this time, he got up in Onyx's face to scream something again, clearly threatening him. Onyx had a flashback of the last time Justin had gotten up in his face, and the hits he sustained in the resulting fight, which was a different occasion than their last one.

Onyx upper-cutted Justin forcefully on the chin and sent him on his back. Even as Justin was falling back, he swung at nothing in particular in his haste to close in on an opponent he thought was easy. This was why he had lost the last fight, swinging in haste while standing in mud, which Onyx had anticipated and dodged, causing Justin to slip and lose his footing. This time, as Justin landed, Onyx began to kick Justin's ribs and stomp him in his gut. Justin attempted roll away, and as soon as his back was exposed, Onyx jumped up and landed on it. Justin was flattened to the Louisiana soil on his stomach, forcefully groaning. Onyx remained standing on his back and said, "Admit you were wrong and I was right! I can do this all morning!"

Justin swore and cursed in response weakly with the wind knocked out of him. "Get off me!" So Onyx crouched down and jumped up again to land on him, knocking more wind out of him, then stomping his feet alternately on his back for about three seconds. The pain made Justin's eyes water, and he sobbed a little bit, face-down into the grass. He made an empty threat to Onyx again, attempting to reach behind himself and pull on Onyx's feet. Unable to pull, he then attempted to kick up, but kicking backwards in his shape only caused him to scream more in the new pain of a cramp.

"All this because you won't just back down say you don't want to fight? Just give up, in front of everyone, and swallow your pride! I'm not gonna grow tired of this anytime soon, Justin. Why would you be so stubborn at this age about something so long ago when you were wrong to begin with? If you're so grown, why not admit you're wrong?"

"You the one started talkin' s___ as soon as you saw me!"

"But I was right, Justin. You never made amends. Never."

"So I owe you now?" Justin taunted. "You ain't s___ now, you never was, and I don't owe you nothin'! I'll do what the hell I want to you!"

"Then when you can get up, come on, I'm letting you up. But I advise you to stay a distance away from me until you're ready to admit I was right and you were wrong." Onyx then stepped off of Justin's back and walked amidst his silent classmates to the drink table and poured himself a cup of soda with ice. He knew it would take Justin a little while to stand up. "Roland, you got a plate, but no liquid," he said coolly. "Should I pour you some soda?" In order to do this, his back was turned to Justin. It was odd he was pouring himself a drink and offering someome else one, but many spectators who remembered him well suspected he was getting somewhere with this.

"Naw, man, but thanks anyway."

"Rayna, you thirsty, ma'am?"

"Sure, I could use that orange pop," she answered, a bit nervous and confused.

Onyx had his mind made up to kill Justin once and for all, because though he would be leaving Lafayette soon, neither his parents nor Justin would be leaving with him. But he was playing Justin like a harp. Justin needed enough popularity to attract crowds at his parties, that was how his company, and therefore he, made his money. He was in no position to lose face. He could have maintained it by just saying to Onyx, "You know what, man? I was wrong, I deserve that. How do I make it right?" But he never thought about that once people laughed at him due to Onyx's mouth. Therefore, even when Onyx had beaten him, this time by overpowering him and not outlasting him, and publily in front of those who knew him best, he could not bring himself to just let it go. He was bound to close the distance between Onyx and himself, unless he was now afraid of Onyx more than he was embarassed. He will give up, or he'll die today, thought Onyx. After all, he ran from Kujo, Jo-Jo, Nate, and Raby even when people were looking.

Onyx had poured the cups and was now putting some potato salad and a chicken leg on his plate, spying something that would aid him in his plan. He also spied that alligator again, lying still behind a log not far from the water's edge. The table at which he stood was close to the water, but not close enough for a gator to attempt to grab anyone there. It was close enough for his idea, though.

"Onyx, look out, bro!" Roland's voice said loudly as some women screamed.

Justin ran straight into Onyx's outstretched left hand before he realized it was a carving knife Onyx was holding. One second, Justin had been about to tackle Onyx, and the next millisecond before Justin closed in on him, Onyx had outstretched his hand and stuck a carving knife straight into his chest. It happened so fast that it didn't register with him or anyone else what had happened until Onyx pulled the knife back out of his sternum and stuck it into his stomach. "I told you to stay down, coward!" Onyx then left the knife in Justin's stomach and stepped back once towards the water. "Now that you've brought us this far, though, come finish me off or else lay down until an ambulance comes." Justin, grimacing in pain and shock, still tried to go for Onyx again. He stumbled for him, then Onyx sidestepped and tripped Justin, who capitulated right into the waters of the Atchafalaya Basin. Though the alligator was fairly concealed by the log as well as the spectacle of two men fighting, to Onyx who knew he was there, he was seen silently submerging himself. Humans are not usually on the menu for alligators like they are for the more aggressive crocodiles. The danger to Justin was his open and bleeding wound, which the reptile would be able to smell and then identify him as wounded and as food.

"Man! Onyx, let's get him out of there before he drowns, dawg!" said JR.

"Too late! He's not about to drown. There's a gator under the water that's about to snap him up. If it wasn't, I would have pulled him out already. I just saw him, right now."

"Man, you trippin'! I know this dude is your enemy and all, but you need to--"

Splash! Crunch! Just as Onyx had told him, the alligator erupted out of the murky water in a splash right next to Justin and closed his powerful jaws on him before Justin could even flinch. He got Justin by the head and shoulders, then immediately began to roll around and thrash, pullling Justin further and further back in the bayou. Of course, most of the women that were closest to the scene screamed, even Rayna who was also hugging her kids close to her. Onyx calmly stepped further away from the water and kept his distance, watching the thrashing and splashing of both bodies in the water. Justice was served, more than he had intially even hoped for. He felt his blood pressure drop.

Because the actual fight had been provoked by Justin and not Onyx, he was out of the Lafayette Parish Correctional Center by that night. JR and Roland had provided the most vehement statements on his behalf, though everyone there except Fat Tiff and one of Justin's ex-girlfriends in high school said that Onyx had only fought in self-defense. Rayna had told the detectives that Onyx had mouthed off to Justin, that they were enemies all of their lives, but that only Justin had wanted to fight. But when Onyx walked out of the jail, Justin, Senior was waiting outside for him. "You killed my son! You god-damned monster!"

"No, he died trying to beat up on me again like we were still kids. Self-defense. He was the monster, and you were the one who raised him. Now leave me alone!" Onyx answered, walking to his parents' car.

"Not till I get mine!" Justin, Sr retorted.

"You won't!" Onyx told him. "The police dropped all charges because everyone there saw it was self-defense and told them so. I never killed anyone, and I never stabbed anyone before today. Then I go to a reunion and Justin can't take an insult he damn well deserves, so he picks a fight again after we're in our late twenties! Anything happens to me, they're arresting you, and frankly, you deserve the heartbreak of all of this. You know why I say that?"

"It doesn't matter why! That's a horrible thing to say to a grieving father!"

"Remember when I called you on the phone and told you about him wanting to fight me when we were in middle school? I wasn't calling to whine and complain, sir! I was calling to protect him from exactly this!" Onyx yelled. "Do you remember that?"

Justin, Senior looked down and sobbed as he remembered. That day, he had merely brushed it off and told Onyx, "That's your problem, kid. You'll sort it out." He had never bothered to ask Onyx why he would go so far as to call him about a grudge between two 6th graders. He had hung up before Onyx could ever explain that if Justin, Jr was ever hurt or injured, it was not because Onyx wanted to do it. Therefore, he had never sat Junior down to tell him that you don't just pick people arbitrarily to be unjust to just because you're not afraid of them. He never nipped this in the bud before it got this far, and now he had lost his son while one of the killers was innocently walking out of jail to rejoin his own parents and the other was still swimming around in its natural habitat of the Atchafalaya Swamp Basin.

When the Sinigals got back to their house, Onyx sat down with his parents and told them the story before the phone rang. "Dad, you asked me why we still weren't cool after all these years. Remember how you said you couldn't tolerate the Arabs much because of how they singled out Black people to look down on? It was the same with Justin, he singled me out and I never really got an explanation why. After a while, I didn't care why, there was no reason good enough, and so when I saw him, I insulted him, but he started the fight, not me."

"Son, I don't blame you for protecting yourself, but you got to be more mature and calm if you're gonna be Muslim. You'll have to let some things slide, especially with this idea that you all are terrorists."

"No," said Onyx calmly, shaking his head and looking his dad in the eyes.

"Yes, son. If they incline towards peace, you incline towards peace. You didn't think I knew that, did you?" Mama S asked with a smirk.

"This is not what the verse refers to, Mom. The verse two verses before that says don't even let the unbelievers think they can get the better of us. The next verse says to stay prepared for war against them with all of the power we have and to terrorise the hearts of our enemies! Not necessarily everyone, but definitely our enemies! Then four verses later it tells us Muslims to incite each other to fight our enemies who are hostile to us. Inclining towards peace is only from a position of strength, not weakness. Dominate them, subdue them, then offer them peace. That's exactly what I did. He still ran to fight me again, and he got eaten up by an alligator. I'm under no obligation to turn the other cheek until I win."

"Now see, Onyx. Here you go trying to make your own personal fight with this boy into some religious apocalyptic battle. It's just one high school guy who bullied you, and you used subterfuge to make him fight you again even though you're now grown and too old for this mess! It was your personal grudge, your own bloodthirst for him that got him killed! Don't drag God into this!"

"I didn't."

"Yes you did!" Dada screamed.

Then Mama S added, "And he and I had a joint business project together to put the right candidate into office. Would have paid 30,000 easily over half of a year."

"Hold on. He drug God into this. Before I even became Muslim, he made fun of me being Muslim."

"What?" said Dada, confused. "You were grown when you became Muslim, he never made fun of you then. You didn't even see him around that time."

"Yeah, dad, but when I read the Malcolm X book, he saw it and started on all of that crap about me wanting a pork chop and a white woman. 'You gonna cry to Allah and Buddha?' Yeah, he started that, and all I had done was read a book! He started making fun of Islam years before I ever became Muslim. Just because he associated it with me. He even told a guy named Juge in high school, 'I don't want none of that Mohamed stuff in my life, that's some crap Onyx would do!' Only Justin didn't use such nice words. So now that I'm Muslim, and under no obligation to forgive anything or turn the other cheek, he made the same mistake and paid with his life! And it was all legal! I only protected myself! If he had stopped and backed down at any time, I would have inclined towards peace like you said, and I told him that. He refused because he was too proud. And he even said he'd send me to meet Allah, in front of everyone there! He, not me, he brought Allah into this!"

"What about me and my business? You interfered with my business, son," Mama S complained. She still couldn't it through her head that Justin got himself killed.

"Justin attacked me! I'm your son! He was the aggressor! And all you care about is that revenue?! That's why you labored to deliver me three decades ago?"

Dada looked down and took this all in, quietly, then he asked Onyx, "What did Muhammad say about turning the other cheek?"

"It's an option, not an obligation. He told his companions one day about Moses and Jesus. Moses was a harsh man and he told his people to always hit back when they were struck. Jesus was much kinder and told his people to turn the other cheek. So they asked Muhammad which one of them was right, and Muhammad said, 'Whichever is best for the cause of Islam at that time.' Obviously, Dad, turning the other cheek was never right with Justin. You never taught me to do that and I tried it, anyway. It failed. So I hit back for the third time today. Don't blame for this again, please. If he hadn't died today, he still would have lost the fight and he would have probably come to take it out on you and mom."

"Okay, you know what, son? I taught you as a kid not to turn the other cheek. Now, as your father, I'm asking you to try turning the other cheek sometimes, just try it. Before you start racking up bodies 'in self-defense'."

"Sure, dad, no problem," Onyx agreed readily. Dada smiled and got up to go to the other room. Just as he got to the door between the living room and the kitchen, Onyx added, "After I obey the verse before that and terrorize the wrong. If people don't want to lose their children to foolishness, they can raise them with the fear of God in mind."

When Onyx's plane lifted off from the runway at the Lafayette Regional Airport at the end of the summer vacation, he looked out at the marsh and the swampland shrinking underneath him and pondered over his visit and the lesson that he had taught others about Islam and himself. On one hand, people had moved out of his way after the fight with Justin, but on the other hand, they didn't seem unreasonably terrified as if he would just fly off the handle and blow up a random person. He had not expected or asked for any of that.

All he had asked for was that relatives and classmates stop asking him to just unconditionally forgive Justin no matter what he did or what kind of person he was. Because he actually saw Justin, he decided to make it plain that he was not going to do that, once and for all, except on his own terms being met.

Two connections and two planes later, he looked out of the window to see the familiar skyline of Kuwait City growing bigger and closer. Having pondered the experience of his trip all the way from Lafayette, he now thought about his new home to which he was returning. The people among whom he lived had a better and more humane culture overall, but were becoming more like the Americans he had left behind by the week it seemed. They had a culture and solid family structure that didn't turn out angry and cruel offspring. But having become snobs over the years since oil had begun the deterioration of their otherwise good manners. Because of their wealth, they identified more with Americans and Europeans than they did with other people who were more like them culturally and more importantly, ideologically. Anything bad that came out of America and the west was, in their minds, degraded from appalling to just bad. Whatever was formerly an abomination became a normal human sin once they learned it occurred in the western countries. In their imitation and unconditional acceptance of the worst places, they were ignorant of what Onyx had contended with growing up there; that it produced the worst of offspring who were so vile in their characters that they made it unaffordable for others to exercise their own moral compasses. It was now so bad that not all of them were outgrowing this as they matured. Onyx had solved that problem easily once he faced it the last time. But to the children whom he would be teaching in his new country, he would need to recount the problem, the lesson, and the solution, so they might not raise such bad offspring of their own in their inferiority complexes towards the west.

"What does this tell you?" asked Onyx to the students after he relayed the events to his English-language class.

"I think I see why you left America," said Namr Al-Hashemi. "You wonder how someone can raise such an idiot and a low-life, but some people are like that everywhere. What makes no sense is for a society to mass-produce kids like this. That is even more astounding. Subhanallah!"

"Excellent use of vocabulary, Tiger," Onyx encouraged.

"Does this guy have any children?" asked Saleh Al-Dossari.

"Yes, he had a daughter, I believe."

"So someone was willing to marry a coward like that?"

"Yes, and have his daughter, too."

"Disgusting! If a man here behaves like that and everyone knows it, most women will refuse to marry him. Even the fathers would disagree to such a marriage. A man here has to either be brave or at least be fair to everyone. Especially once he is a real man and on his own resources. Why did the society tolerate such behavior?"

"Well, one reason is exactly the same thing that goes on this country. If I slap a Kuwaiti for calling me a slave, wouldn't many of you come to his aid? But suppose one of you slaps around a Bangladeshi in a parking lot and makes him wash your windshield for free? How many others in here would interfere and take up for that Bangladeshi? The same thing occurred there. Instead of just being fair to everyone, he would mistreat who ever he wasn't afraid of. So if someone he didn't fear had big friends, he would leave that guy alone until he caught the guy by himself somewhere or his friends left town."

"But didn't anyone side with you against him?" asked Saleh again.

"Almost never. This last time, a friend of mine took my side in the argument and told him he was wrong. That was the second time it happened. Most of the time, you know what many people said? If the subject of him ever came up, someone would say 'You should forgive him. It was long ago. You all were kids.' Had he just said he was wrong and then done the opposite of what he did, I would have."

"Mr. Sinigal," said Amir from the center of the classroom, raising his hand.

"Yes, sir."

"You know how whenever you insist upon right and will not settle for less than what is right, someone is always there to tell you that you are being unreasonable? Especially in America?" Amir knew what he was talking about. He had lived in Houston for two years in middle school.

"Yes, that is exactly the case."

"Sir, what you did is draw a line between right and wrong and insist on the right. I am sure they said you were being unreasonable, especially since you and he last fought more than a decade ago."

"They did."

"You did what we should be doing in this country and all of the Gulf. Even outside of the Gulf. We should be telling our children that this is right and that is wrong, no matter who does it. And we should be preparing like you, to fight for what is right. This is our job as Muslims. We should know this better than you, but you know this better than us. But, anyway, I wanted to ask if you are aware of what this means in the larger scheme of things?"

"I have a guess, but what does it mean?"

"The Dajjal was already in the homes in America back when you were children. His psychology was already there. All that is left is for the individual to appear and harvest the minds of the people. For your sake, I am glad you don't live there anymore. Not just Justin, but people who regard him as normal or decent have the dajjal mindset. Hurricanes keep destroying them and they refuse to blame themselves. They have little time left. We are not angels, but we are Muslims so we are your people now and you are our people, and your home is with us. Otherwise you will have no home left when Allah destroys Louisiana."

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