Authors: Basil Sands
Sammy
went
to
the
front
door
of
the
mosque. The
door
itself
made
his
heart
leap
with
excitement
at
the
potential
treasures
inside.
It was an intricately carved and highly complicated series of geometric shapes and patterns with Arabic script overlaying portions of it. He touched the wood and whistled lightly, then leaned close
and
listened
through
to
the
other
side.
All
was
silent.
He
grasped
the
door
handle
and
twisted
it.
The latch gave way with a soft click
and
he
pushed
it
open.
No
alarms
sounded,
so
he
stepped
into the building
.
Just
inside
the
door
was
a
long
rack
for
shoes.
It
was
empty.
Looks
like
nobody
’
s
home.
The
inside
of
the
mosque
was
just
as
elegantly
decorated
as
he
had
expected.
Round
pillars
lined
the
entry
and
the
hall
that
ran
perpendicular
to
it.
Large
ceramic
tiles
of
turquoise,
midnight
blue,
sea
green,
and
scarlet
reds
on
the
floor
and
smaller
tiles
covering
the
walls
combined
to
form
complex
geometric
patterns
that
forced
him
to
blink
repeatedly
to
adjust
to
the
visual
confusion.
Gold
leaf
sparkled
along
the
joining
edges
of
each
tile,
randomly
illuminated
by
soft
light
shining
through
arched
stained-glass
windows
set
high
in
the
ceiling.
A
summer
spent
panning
for
gold
with
his
cousins
as
a
teen
had
taught
him
what
real
gold
looked
like.
This
was
the
real
thing.
A
smile
of
wonder
spread
across
his
face,
awed
by
the
amount
of
the
yellow
metal
in
the
walls.
Sammy
’
s
footsteps
echoed
in
the
hall.
As he walked through the building, his initial excitement started to abate, and then slowly evaporated.
For
all
its
beauty,
there
were
no
visible
treasures
he
could
carry
away.
No
golden
objects
like
one
might
find
in
a
church
or
cathedral
or
even
a
synagogue.
No
crosses
or
menorahs
or
silver-plated
scroll
handles.
No
offering
plates
or
communion
cups
or
bottles
of
k
osher
wine.
No
statues.
Not
even
any
paintings.
Just
walls
and
floors
decorated
with
thin
strips
of
gold
leaf,
not
exactly
an
easy
thing
to
steal.
The
treasure
must
be
further
inside.
They
’
ve
gotta
have
something.
He
made
his
way
down
the
hall
until
he
found
the
opening
into
the
main
worship
area.
The
large
open
space, about fifty feet in diameter,
consisted
of
more
of
the
same
type
of
wall
decorations
with
neither
pews
nor
chairs.
It
was
empty
except
for
a
covering
of
Persian
rugs.
On a
raised
platform
opposite
the
entrance
stood
a
small
podium,
barely
two
feet
tall.
He
crossed
the
center
of
the
room.
He
looked
under
the
podium,
only
to
find
it
empty.
What
the
hell?
Where
’
s
the
treasure?
Frustrated,
Sammy
stood
up
and
scanned
the
walls,
searching
for
another
door
or
exit
that
might
lead
to
offices
or
a
storage
room.
Behind
the
platform,
almost invisible
amidst
the
geometric
patterns,
a
brass
doorknob
jutted
from
the
wall.
Sammy
smiled
to
himself.