Path of Jen: Bloodborne (14 page)

“Of course Najid,” she said compassionately.
“I am sorry too. Will you come home to me? I am so lonely, and
everything in the house reminds me of Jena." She took his face in
her hands and said, “I need my husband.”

Najid dropped his head again and sighed.
“Fouzia, I want to. I do." He looked up at her with red-rimmed eyes
full of tears. “It’s just that…every time I look at you, I see
her." He touched her face gently. “I look at you and I see our
Little Bird, and I feel so ashamed.”

Fouzia buried her face in his shoulder and
they cried together. “Just come home with me, Najid. Please, come
home." Najid didn’t say anything, he just nodded and hugged her
tightly.

That evening, Najid and Fouzia sat on the
couch in their living room. “I promise, I will be a better father
and husband,” he said. “Do you believe me, Fouzia?”

She leaned against him and replied, “I know
you want to Najid. Yes, I believe you,” she said and she kissed his
shoulder. There was a long silence.

“Najid?” she asked. “I don’t want to start an
argument, okay? I just need you to explain something to me." She
felt him stiffen, and she took a calming breath. “If now isn’t a
good time, I understand.”

Najid sighed. “No, Fouzia, I am sorry. You
can ask me anything. I promise I won’t get angry.”

“Thank you, Najid,” she said. She took
another breath and let it out slowly. Feeling more relaxed, she
asked, “Can you explain why the men who have Jena I mean, now that
we know she is being held by ISIS, or ISIL, or whatever we’re
supposed to call them; can you explain why they can kidnap our
daughter and say they are following Allah?" She held her breath,
waiting for the inevitable blow-up. Instead, there was thoughtful
silence and then Najid answered.

“Fouzia, my love,” he said. “I…,” he paused
and took a deep breath. “I wonder the same thing. I went to the
Imam and I asked him, and do you know what he said?" Fouzia shook
her head. “He said…Masha, Allah." Najid ran his hand through his
hair and sighed again. “Masha, Allah. That is it? I asked him if
the Holy Koran actually justifies the kidnapping of children.
Fouzia, he chastised me for questioning the actions of the
faithful. He said he was sympathetic, but after all, we should be
thankful that the child we lost was a girl and not a son. Masha,
Allah? How could Allah will this?”

Fouzia covered her mouth to hide her look of
surprise. “Najid!” she exclaimed.

“I know, I am sorry for seeming weak and
unfaithful.”

“No! Not at all, my love! I am excite to hear
you say that because I have been thinking the same thing!" They
each sat up and turned to look at the other. “Najid, I need to tell
you something. Remember how Jena started to act differently, in a
good way, when she was eleven or twelve? We used to comment on it."
Najid nodded his head slowly. “I’ve been thinking about that, and
then I remembered some of the odd things she said over the years
since then. She also asked a lot of thought provoking questions,
remember?" He nodded again. “Najid, I asked her once where the
change had come from. I asked what was making her different. Do you
know what she said?" Najid shook his head.

“I’ve been washed clean." Fouzia stood up,
excited and then knelt in front of her husband. “At the time I
passed it off as a weird thing kids say. I don’t believe that
anymore! I believe she was trying to say that she was washed clean
by the blood of Jesus." She bit her lip and waited for his
response.
“Say something!”
she thought.

Najid sat like a statue, staring through her.
It was unnerving, but Fouzia waited patiently for him to process
what he just heard. “Jena is a Christian,” he whispered, finally.
His eyes focused on his wife’s face and he looked at her
questioningly. “What does that mean?”

“I believe it means that God,” and she
pointed upward. “A merciful and loving God, is watching over our
daughter. I believe it means that there is hope and salvation for
all of us. Najid, I prayed to Allah for nearly forty years and felt
nothing. I held on to anger for the injustices I saw and guilt for
questioning the faith you held on to, but I never felt peace until
three months ago when I made this discovery. I prayed to the God
that Jena believes in, and I asked him to save her. I prayed with
all my heart to save our Little Bird, and I offered my own life as
payment. Then I remembered that Christians believe that Jesus is
the son of God, and that he died to pay for the sins of the world.
I fell to my knees and cried out that I am a sinner and asked him
to save me too! Do you know what I felt? Peace! Najid, I felt grace
and power flooding over me! I know what Jena felt because I too
have been washed clean!”

Najid’s face turned dark and he pressed his
lips together. Fouzia cringed, thinking he was going to explode in
rage. He furrowed his brow and closed his eyes tightly. His hands
were clenched in fists and Fouzia could see he was holding his
breath. Suddenly he reached out and took hold of her shoulders. She
gasped and tried to get away until suddenly he opened his eyes, and
instead of rage she saw deep sorrow. His grip on her shoulders
softened and he pleaded gently, “Show me how." He slid forward off
of the couch and knelt with her on the floor. “Show me how to pray
to the Christian God, Fouzia. I want to be washed clean too!" He
took her in his arms and embraced her.

Fouzia cried tears of joy and relief as they
knelt together. Then, still on their knees, she led her husband in
the prayer of salvation.

“This house,” Najid said after asking Jesus
into his heart. “This is your house, God. Please, bring Jena home
to us." Fouzia and Najid leaned their heads together and said,
“Amen,” together.

Two days after the initial blood draw Maria
brought Jen to the clinic again for a much larger blood draw. This
time the doctor drew 250 milliliters.

“Jena!” he said when she arrived in his
laboratory. “Come and sit. I am so excited to tell you that your
blood is exactly what I have been looking for." He immediately
began checking her veins and had the blood draw supplies already
laid out on the counter. “You are very special indeed, Jena. Your
blood is going to be the vehicle though which I develop a very
powerful and effective vaccine." He grinned and waited for a
response, as if he just told her wonderful news.

“I’m sorry, doctor. My blood is going to be
used for what?” Jen asked. She was suddenly feeling unsure about
cooperating with the doctor.

He looked her directly in the eyes and said,
“A vaccine. Jena, you are going to help change the world." He took
her arm and began wiping the area above her most prominent vein
with an alcohol swab. This time he used a larger needle with a much
larger draw tube attached. Once he filled the first tube, he
unscrewed it from the needle and set it aside. He quickly fastened
another draw tube to the needle still in Jen’s arm and slowly
pulled the plunger. “I am going to do this once a week for the next
few weeks. Based on your body mass, you should not feel any side
effects from weekly blood draws of this size. Let me know
immediately if you do feel any side effects, okay?"

“Okay,” she said. Jen held a cotton ball to
her arm while the doctor applied a piece of white tape. Maria was
standing next to Jen with a hand on her shoulder for support. Like
the last time, as soon as the doctor was finished drawing her
blood, he dismissed Jen and began working. “See you next week,” she
said as Maria led her out of the lab. The doctor raised his hand
and waved without looking up from his microscope.

“I have a surprise for you, Jena” said Maria
as they each adjusted their hijab in the lobby.

“What is it?” asked Jen while they walked
outside. Maria reached inside the purse she carried with her and
pulled out an eyeliner pencil and a small compact of eye
shadow.

“For your beautiful eyes,” she said and
handed them to Jen.

“What?” exclaimed Jen. “No way! Thank you
Maria,” she said and gave her a hug. “I can’t wait to try these
out." The two young ladies laughed and talked while they walked the
rest of the way to the mosque where Jen would have her daily lesson
with Imam Hassan.

Today was a different experience for Jen with
the Imam. As they spoke, he was openly critical for the first time
about western thinking and religion. Jen tried to be respectful and
appear open to his point of view. It was clear that someday soon
she would be forced to openly admit her beliefs and face the
consequences, or save herself by denying her Christianity.

That night in her room, Jen prayed,
“Dear
Heavenly Father, please give me strength and wisdom. Help me choose
the right path. Help me choose to do your will…"

Her prayer was interrupted by a shrill scream
followed by shouting and several gun shots.
“That sounded
close!”
she thought.
“Was that inside this building?"
She listened carefully for a few minutes and then stepped to her
door. She tried the door knob and found it locked as it always was
at this hour. The door locks were on a timer. When she came inside
for the night the door locked behind her and would not open again
until morning.
“At least no-one can get in,”
she
thought.

Jen climbed back into bed and curled into a
ball.
“Please keep me safe, Jesus."

The next morning there was a haze of foul
smelling smoke lingering in the air around the hospital.

For the next three weeks, Jen’s routine
stayed the same. Each day she woke up, did a few exercises,
showered and put on a fresh white dress, and was joined by Maria
who accompanied her throughout her day, from breakfast to dinner.
Most of her mid-day was taken up by walking and talking with Maria
and lessons with Imam Hassan. The Imam did his best to indoctrinate
Jen during their meetings, and Maria helped Jen with her Farsi
during their walks. After dinner, Jen return to her room and spent
time alone with her thoughts. A new clean and starched white dress
and hijab were always laying on her bed for her to wear the
following day.

On some nights she felt particularly stir
crazy and she exercised vigorously. She had watched a bunch of
body-rock videos on YouTube with Sarah, and they memorized some of
the best abdominal and core work-outs. Her room was small and that
type of interval training was perfectly suited for it.

On other nights she sat quietly and
contemplated her position in this world.
“Maybe God is letting
me be here because of the doctor’s work. Maybe he will do something
amazing like finding a cure for cancer, and I will be a part of it.
On the other hand, maybe this has nothing to do with me."
On
these nights her thoughts always drifted towards her parents, and
how terribly she missed them. On many nights she cried herself to
sleep.

In mid November, Jen was walking to the
cafeteria for breakfast with Maria. As they walked down the hall,
soldiers in black burst through the double doors dragging three
blindfolded prisoners with them. The prisoners were two frightened
men and one nearly catatonic woman wearing orange jump suits and
blindfolds. Maria pulled Jen forcefully to the side to let the
soldiers and their prisoners pass.

“I’m sorry, Jena, but it is best to stay out
of their way,” Maria whispered to Jen after the soldiers passed. To
Jen’s surprise the soldiers pushed each of the prisoners through a
different doorway in the hallway and shut them in.

“
So that’s who my neighbors are,”
Jen
thought.
“They are prisoners too…and they are even less
fortunate than me."
The women continued to the hospital
cafeteria but Jen didn’t have an appetite.

Over the next few days Jen saw at least
twenty prisoners brought in. Unlike her, they were not permitted to
leave their rooms. Guards would bring them food, and Jen would
often see a nurse or the doctor entering and leaving the rooms, but
the prisoners in orange stayed inside. About a week after they
arrived the screaming started again. Every night, for twenty
nights, Jen heard hysterical screaming followed by intense shouting
and gun-shots. After the gun-shots it went quiet, and the following
morning the air was filled with acrid smoke.

It was on the twenty-first day after the
prisoners arrived, that Jen started receiving injections. The
doctor looked haggard and ill that morning. If he had slept at all
in the past two or three days, it certainly wasn’t for long. When
she and Maria walked into the lab, Jen saw a shell of the man she
met all those months before in the compound. He looked up from
writing in a journal with dark, sunken eyes. His hair was messed
and his clothes were wrinkled. Jen could smell strong body odor
when they approached his work station. When he spoke, his words had
no conviction or enthusiasm like before. It was almost as if he was
reading lines from a script.

“Please, Jena, have a seat,” he said. Jena
obediently sat down. “Today is a very important day. The vaccine is
complete, and praise be to Allah, it has proven to be even more
effective than I anticipated." He motioned for Maria to go to the
door. Maria walked over to the door and placed a magnetic placard
over its narrow rectangular window.

Jen looked at Maria with a concerned look.
Maria gave Jen a wink and smiled reassuringly. “Jena, this time is
a little different than before. I’ll be giving you a series of
injections over the next few days, and monitoring you closely. This
is standard protocol since your blood was the main ingredient in
this vaccine. It won’t harm you. It’s how we ensure the vaccine
will stay viable long term. Do you understand?"

Jen nodded nervously. “Okay, then. I’m going
to need your shoulder exposed, so you’ll need to slip out of the
dress." Jen looked at Maria nervously, and Maria smiled warmly
again. Jen sighed and undressed as she was asked. When she was
sitting again, the doctor continued.