Mar Heba

Green Street was not the best accommodations available in town but was the recommended stopping place for anyone who cared to help the community live. The small room provided for minimal comforts... A bed and washing facilities; he could eat at his cousins restaurant and other businesses of other members of the community. He preferred to keep his money circulated among friends, family and his own Levantine community. It was hard to do with the posh Marriott, Dearborn Inn and Hampton Inn further into town, but he believed in supporting his fellow businessmen and family. He felt better for his conscience. The woman who cleaned at the Green Street boarding house kept it fairly clean for the building it was, and the wash was regular, it gave her a regular income. It kept him close to those he knew and out of the homes of his family, but was good to see them... to visit with them after so many years after their departure to America. They often boasted of success with business and family. The entire community attitude was strong in their collective efforts to maintain a sound religious base here and to keep the lines of communication open and current with concerns at home. The Community Clergy was constant and came recommended by not only his own cousins but by most of the community, as a sound-minded conscientious man. A good man. Conversations with the clergy and following up on referrals made from various community members, he decided to attempt to find replacements for his print and bindery shop back at home. With that, he made his plans to locate the... Collator and folding machines needed to replace those damaged in a recent bombing. One earlier visit to these same cousins, Mahmoud and Majid, had felt like home without its many bracing customs. It was less restrictive for the American insurgence of life. They lived in their respective chosen places, Mahmoud in West Bloomfield ...far to the north, and Majid here in the community, not far from the boarding house. It was not proper to stay with them in the presence of their women ...for custom of moral existence. It would do to keep peace in the household and avoid all instance for doubt. He chose to stay at the Green Street. Their women covered and most other details were like home except that the watchers were wrapped not in the entity of an assigned group but in the individual for his or her own strength in personal privacy. At home there were "police" for everything and anything of conscious to mankind. They were called the WATCHERS. There were no watchers in the cousins' American community... no authentic personal behavior police. His own home, still in Northern Lebanon's suburbs of Beirut, boasted traditional Islamic practices. Those at home were expected to be honest of their own accord, in relationships, business and persuasion. The customs of freedom are usually what kills mankind. Too much freedom brings slaggard morals in any man or woman. As he sat in his cousin's restaurant now, waiting for the plate ordered, Mahmoud told him of the possibility for business success in America. "I haf thees restoor-rant...it is goot business, and I have the printing there, zee Tech-No... also goot business. Both are goot money to my family. My wife and zee children eat good meals, have goot schools and they are with people who no zem. You shoult join me with jour business... here and there, we will do goot." A restaurant employee approached him from behind the booth to ask his opinion on food preparation for this cousin. Mahmoud excused himself and followed the man back into the kitchen area. Ali was intent upon bringing the equipment back up to date. It would be replaced but he would have to work within the budget. His travels had brought him to the United States as an afterthought. The better machines had always been of German design but the contention in Germany was to deal with its own. In the Americas there were better negotiators for used and new equipment from any background. He could find the German manufactured Heidlburg equipment here, or so he had been told. He simply needed a guide. There had also come the suggestion of a franchise from a prior acquaintance, a younger man hoping for the ways of the coming generation. Zgheib had suggested he buy a franchise with his money instead of investing in the heavy equipment like that he already had. "Tomorrow will be different. Eet will not use the heavy things Ali, I would think ahead andt ghet more updated computerized equipment. Zhe franchise company will provide eet." He had seen Zgheib only last night at the community center. Since his coming here to the Americas, Mo seemed to have changed for the release of pressure. Back at home there had been the pressure of marriage. Marriage to a girl that was obviously not one he would have chosen for himself. Seeing him here in America, Ali was certain that the weight had been removed by his escape from the woman. This one, at thirty years of age, was a hopeless romantic. He wanted to marry for love. At his age, Ali was already working on establishing a trade and business. It was a family trait. He had already been in the construction trades for the repair of his own community back at home and for building new large concrete houses. He had gone into business with another, Abu, in printing newspapers and the holy book... which he personally maintained contracts for orders and delivery; two mandated lines of media in their own world. Because of his choice of business, he was well respected by many of the leaders of many Arabic-speaking countries and in his own region and abroad. He traveled frequently establishing accounts and verifying customer satisfaction with their product, and at times to establish new contacts. Mahmoud returned from the kitchen with a plate of appetizers, "You will make it to your appointment, Ali, zhe food is about here now." He quickly remembered his suggestion of joining his own printing business with his cousin's, "...and didt jhou think about tzhe business?" He sat down, placing the heavily garnished plate before his cousin. It was rare for visitors other than his wife's or his own siblings or parents to come from overseas. One uncle... his wife's father, was a constant intrusion to his household. Sayed often appeared from his own usual residence in England, for interspersed short term trips which usually found him at the podium at the community center. On some of these trips, a friend of the family or other family member would accompany him. Ali came alone claiming to need equipment for the business back in Beirut. "I haf ...how you say, think about it." Mahmoud sat up and leaned toward his cousin in anticipation as Ali continued, "Jhes, I haf think about it. I think a leetle morre;" and smiled back in jest."...Where ees my food?"

As they dined, the cousins discussed options for merging both media businesses. The Michigan based print shop ran a local paper for Arab-Americans to relay community progress, local area happenings and news from back home. It referred travel discounts for the span of Israel to Jordan and Kuwait to Greece. The Dearborn office prompted community participation and networking with other communities. At times it referred to developments of the Arab community. News from overseas was belated and based upon telephone relay of information from friends and family still overseas. The merger of the two would save trips to America by Ali, and give more concise news base for the smaller Arab-American paper. Where the American office focused upon pamphlets, letterhead and business cards; the overseas binding company held the major account for the Quran in three most popular presentations. The conclusion of their decision would foretell the future of Arab-American success. The right formation of that decision could instigate peace for the middle east. "Jhou kno... Mahk moud, I needt to findt zees machins. Wherre dhou jhou ghet zee machins jhou haf zhere... Tzee AB Deeck?" "Whal, zee AB Deeck, eet comes frrom zee small deelarr. Jhou needt beegk machine.. I haf a frindt! Che can do anythink jhou needt. I call herrre for jhou. Okay?" They finished the meal of vegetable dips and Shwarma... Beef and chicken. "Zhe foodt ees goodt... I think about eh retoorant!" He smiled at his cousin's ingenuity. Money and meals in one smooth operation." I don't ghet zee gas herre!" They both laughed and stood to exit the building. As they reached the older white mercedes, Mahmoud reminded Ali, "I will call jhou laterr to say what of zhe frindt, I am chourr che will halp jhou find zhe Heidelburg Press." They drove the short distance back to the boarding house where Ali could review his notes, ready himself for prayer and rest up for whatever he had planned. As his cousin pulled away from the curb, Ali thought back on the days when family was all together. In his youth, they were much closer. Tyre was one of the most coveted places on earth, a Garden-of-Eden. There were droves of fruit trees, dates, nuts and berries; there were countless species of fish and other seafood... all in abundance. Tyre sported one of the better sea ports for travel and industry. It was his birthplace and home until his father, determined to find business for himself, headed north toward Beirut. They left the fighting across the border, the bombing from mis aimed artillery that loaded their farm fields with shrapnel and killed as many who braved cultivating and harvesting crops in their southernmost region family land. Further north, the cities of Sidon and Beirut were more densely populated and offered the opportunity for business in their most competitive markets. He had moved them, his wife Fatmah and his two sons, at the birth of his business since the 1970s. "It is better to keep family near and together, Ali;" his father was a sound family man, one of religious foundation. The new city was not as beautiful as the vineyards and olive orchards; there were not as many or as much beach area as in Deir Kanoun El-Nahr Tyre. The coves for pearl diving were few and far between at Beirut because of coastal development. They could not argue the decrease in available recreation, that development brought in money that created the opportunity for their family to survive. His father, Ali, usually made sound decisions. The wife's family had trusted him with their daughter, and so his small family trusted him as well. They had grown there in the foothills of the Lebanon Mountains under his father's business directives and in the midst of a world of religion. Grown to men themselves, he and his brother, so that he now dictated his own world of business. He would dictate and prosper as his father had. Dictate as a man of his own mind. His cousins had left the old home area. Some had gone traveling with the uncle, Sayed, others went alone. Mahmoud, had ended up here in America and running what seemed to be sound but struggling businesses; a carwash... restaurant... bakery...and the printing business newly relocated to a building previously used as a bank. Majid had also rested here but pursued oil; Gas stations under one producer, Mobil Oil. Ali had not considered leaving his already established office in Beirut to come to the United States, but had entertained establishing a correspondent of sorts to limit his own travel. He had already been to Dubai, Kuwait, Saudi, Shaam, Jordan, Egypt and Oman. They were of positive outcome and now there was the frontier of West Africa. If he could lock in these countries for correspondence he would be well on his way to solving a crisis of peace and of communication. He was proud of his accomplishments but knew of the coming challenge. Peace had never sat long in the Middle East and if he could create such a network it would be the work of a miracle to keep minds at a level place. If simple understanding of the mind was the answer to damnation of a world, then why was no one pursuing that path? His uncle, a Clergyman, traveled to and from England to various masjids and communities like most; administering the word and hearing the status of communities established from America throughout Canada into London. His uncle preferred the old way but acknowledged the changes seen in todays world. The traditions of social life were progressing faster than the religious world could keep up. No longer were the youth so willing even as to receive a predirected mate. It was definitely difficult times coming in the future. The one thing that could hold the world as a sound and stable place, was communication - the understanding of minds.

He reviewed his notes of progress since his arrival. He had found the cousins well and made arrangements to have a guide for locating the heavy equipment. There were options of cutting his own work in half now by joint venture with his cousin, a contract would have to be drawn. His young friend's suggestion of a franchise would not provide quality material as his clients had grown accustomed to but offered good option for an American based business. He made a second note to look into franchises for printing and binding. Mo was younger by less than ten years but he had not yet assembled his life for the long run. He was in denial of his father's direction. He was of the today's youth, grown to obstinence. The woman given him by his father was not the younger man's idea of an ideal mate. He preferred to marry for love and to have his choice in that matter. It was good reasoning, but left little time for more sound use of the mind. Ali had been shown his selection and was building his life of a business for support of his family. They had not yet married... Yamzooj ... marriage, was something he felt should have a foundation of something other than aspirations. His conclusion of this trip would have a lock on his direction with business and ascertained income. The woman he was given would have to wait until he was satisfied with accomplishing these lines. It established his role in the relationship. It declared him the ruler in his own castle. Many of the women, even this cousin he was destined to marry, were not in business or in the university. They would rely upon the husband and other men in the family to bring them through a life of substance. Because of the religious codes back home, his cousin... Zeina Bagheri was obligated to full cover in public and most if not all work was in the public. She claimed it made difficult work of learning or accomplishing much in work or school. She would bear him children, and he would be the man in the family. He would have to make good on his business venture to live as he desired and not in squalor. Some of the women struggled to secure an education rather than to seek a husband as security. An educated woman was a blessing not only to herself but also to the man who would marry her; she was grown to be a helpmate. In today's world it was not enough to only marry... Yamzooj struck a bargain between a man and woman only for their vows of matrimony - to hold chaste to one another. There were necessities that holding chaste simply did not provide for, and that was the base of Ali's concern. What help he would have for maintaining a level of lifestyle he desired for himself and for his family. He placed a third check at the note for a guide in finding the binding equipment and rolled over on the small bed to sleep.

Before dawn, he was up splashing water in the traditional washing for preparation of starting his day. He wrung water from his face and just above his elbow to the tips of his fingers in the right to left pattern he had grown accustomed to since his childhood. Now in his rush and as a traveler, he did not hold fast to all practices of ritual but within himself, determined to hold as many as humanly possible. His favorite Surah, al-Baquarah, was fast on his mind as he readied his prayer cloth and the stone which had come with him from Mecca. In the close community, he could hear the morning call to prayer as if he were in the great hall of the Masjid back home. As the clergy closed the call, he knelt to begin his own salutation. Thirty minutes later, after several episodes of standing and kneeling, he put his favored affirmation to seek continued blessing for and throughout his travels. A short nod of his head to either side over shoulders held taut brought closure to his morning salutations. He sat back on the edge of the small twin bed to think out his day as it lay ahead of him. There was no pressure for his rushed return to the company, but the longer he spent on the road, the greater his small expenses would be and the rate of exchange did not make concessions for good intentions. He would have to be thorough and timely in his locating the necessary goods. At sunrise, he scratched a note for the cleaning lady to leave the room as it was and stepped out into a new day of work. He was to meet Mahmoud at the restaurant.

Istanbooli's was a most convenient meeting place for almost any occasion, businessmen or women at coffee or families in a rushed workday; it opened early and remained open until eleven at night. On many evenings after Friday meeting at the community center, Istanbooli's was the place for assembly. Families and singles met to socialize in their smaller groups after the business of community issues were completed. The traditional Lebanese meals were prepared exactly like those at home, and the variety available were endless. After a brisk walk carrying his satchel of business papers, it was as though he had gone for a thorough workout. He was relieved to sit and order hot tea and a hommus plate while he waited for his cousin to arrive. Within minutes, Mahmoud was entering the door greeting his early morning customers and cooks. They could be at work early for the location in their own neighborhood. It left them available to family situations of crisis. Although there had been no harassment or other negative actions for the Arabic community, some preferred to work close to home and family rather than in the far to distant developing communities. Oddly enough, little Israel... the community further north in Oak Park was just as reserved in it's tradition of community and family. Ali had been caught off guard by the sudden appearance of the orthodox members meandering through the community only a few nights before. They did not appear to be as abrasive as those causing the disturbance at Lebanon's southern border. At home, those of Israel ...what was always considered to be Palestine, were pushing each other over the border into the country north of them. The civil war was long out of hand but accepted as the norm of activity for that small country. Here, less than twenty miles apart, they existed without a common threat. Existed in the same line of longitude without the least bit of anxiety between the two. It was unusual that such a situation could exist. "Mar'haba, yeh Ali!" Mahmoud's face lit up to see his cousin already dining on his food. "Ya u-allah!" Ali returned a greeting without looking up from his notes or his plate; hommus is only as good as it is fresh. "And wherre is my food, Ali!" His cousin stopped eating long enough to smile back at him, "But yourre foodt ees all overr zee kitchen, gho on andt ghet it!" Mahmoud chuckled back at him then spun on his heal back toward the kitchen, "...ehh!" He soon returned with his own plate of soft cheeses, varied fruits and pita toast. He carried a variety of fruit spreads in his other hand and a waitress followed with a pot of steaming tea. "Jhou werre rright, cousin, my foodt was everrywherre!" They both chuckled throughout the balance of the morning meal. As they prepared to leave, Mahmoud remembered the message from his friend. "Ah, Ms. Muhammad eez sayink okay to halpink jhou findt zee machine. Che will be herre this afternoon, che say maybe 12 or one. Jhou can go, do what jhou haf to do and get back to my office at zee Tech-No. Today I will put zee money on my gaz-ze-station andt we see if Mobil can use morre of zee family, ehh?" No needt to let Majid haf all ze money!" They both laughed as they went through the door to the waiting Mercedes. "I think jhou will lak mah frindt, che eez goodt," Mahmoud reassured his cousin as they drove toward the print shop. "Jhou can mak any call frrom zee office, I will be herre and therre andt haf to make ze run to ze otherr biz-e-ness but jhou arre welcom to do what jhou haf to herre. Be at home." They leaped out of the parked car and dashed in to the small printing office. "Ees much too small than my company, Mahmoud, why jhou don't ghet morre machine? Morre room? Eef we arre to haf biz-e-ness togetherr, jhou needt to haf beegerre spaces. There ees too much to hold for this spaces." Ali's command of the english language was limited in understanding and for the spoken word. The rare visit which brought him into the United States provided him translators in the presence of his cousins or that of his friend Mo Zgheib. Mahmoud had not considered the limited area he had leased for use as Tech-No-Press. The basement area truly would not be large enough for services his cousin provided. The six AB Dick machines and the Foley Collator were nothing in comparison to the heavy monsters he remembered back home. They were sufficient for printing the flyers, cards and circulars his office promoted but would not handle more than the girth of the newspaper he printed on a biweekly basis. The typeset and offset camera would have to be on a grander scale unless they fine tuned the responsibility of each office. He had not considered the difference in equipment. Fuad, the typesetter, was already talking of leaving to run his own business, he would really be short handed for help and applicable equipment. The secretary was never a stable individual, rather one or two women from the community who felt adventurous enough to work out of the house. The position of secretary was difficult to fill from within the community; if not for the Zgheib filling in recently, he would not have had anyone. The man was not the best where secretaries are concerned, but something was better than nothing. He was reliable for the time promised and there were no embarrassing moments such as with the women. With this personnel problem and the difference in performance of machinery, there would be a world to change before the proposed arrangements could occur. There were issues that would have to be worked out.

By 12:30, the friend had arrived. As she stepped through the door, Mohamad greeted her asking her business or appointment, "Andt jhou arre? Mis...?" "I am Ms. Muhammad, I told Mike I'd be here with his materials. He is expecting me." "Mike?... Oh, jhou mean Mahmoud!" She responded, "Whatever. The owner, he wants real estate." "Well madam, Ms. Muhammad, I will let him know jhou arre herre. Have a seat please..." He darted around the corner into a back room where she could see Mike seated at a desk obviously talking to someone on the other side. "He says he will be with jhou shorrtly ...coffee ...tea?" Therre ees a frresh pot, I make it myself. I will haf some too. Drrink with me? She smiled, "I am here to see Mike. We have business you know." "Don't jhou like me? I do a goot job kno?""I am sure you do, but I am just going to wait for this meeting to be over give your boss the message about his offer and be finished. Are you a real secretary?" She could not help except to smile at the character before her. "I am secretary today, just forr jhou." "Oh, just for me to see?" "No, I be secretary for jhou... What jhou needt?" "No... I , well you are a cute secretary, the outfit is unusual, but..." They both laughed. "Really, I just help a friend. The secretary ees sick, I think it ees a baby, she will be out for a few days. I halp in the office. They are goot people, friend to my family. And jhou arre?" He was intent on knowing who she really was and where she was from. The wait seemed shorter than the thirty minutes relayed by this secretary upon his introduction of Ms. Muhammad to the waiting office. As he left he reminded her, "I will see you laterr okay." She smiled back at him, "Okay." Over the span of the next hour, they reviewed the intricacies of his bid for a gas station property owned by B&P Petroleum. It had been agreed that the company would sell the property and remove their tanks which would allow him to use the location for a Mobil gas station. The location was one of the best... just off the expressway, a half mile from any other full service station and well within his reach of affordability. As she readied to leave, he remembered, "Uph. I tell my cousin maybe jhou can help him. Jhou arre goot forr my everrythink. Wait herre please. He rushed out into the hallway. Where didt Ali go to?" Zgheib responded, "He went across the street, Says he will be back shortly. He would make a key to his bag. I will entertain Ms. Muhammad until he rreturn. Jhour next appointment is arriving now. I think he will pick up his menu, it ees the rrestaurant man... Olive Garden." Then to the older gentleman entering the door, "He will see jhou now, let me clear zee office." Mahmoud rolled his eyes at the intrusive action of his secretary, but followed the man to the small office." "Ms. Muhammad, please sit herre and tell me some morre about the real estate." "Are you planning to be a Realtor?" "Maybe, tell me what I haf to do." "We sell houses, vacant land, businesses ...really anything the customer wants to sell of buy. We find what they need, and give them the choice of selection. It saves them time and gives them the best opportunity possible for selection." "I can do that." "It isn't difficult, but you would need to be truly concerned for your client, and know the rules of real estate." "Then maybe accounting is not the best thing to do, I haf been to the American College in Beirut. And I specialized in math. I am goodt with the computers and people." "You seem to be the office type. Or since you have good english why not be a translator. That is in high demand at the airports and international businesses. The Border Patrol and Customs are usually a good place for this also. "That is even a good option, I will look at both. I was supposed to be an accountant ...I am goodt with numberrs, but if I can not be that, I will haf an option." " French is good or better as an addition to language translation in the north. People come from Canada and overseas. If you can do this, you must be really good in linguistics." "I am goodt. I learn english easily. I am learning frrench soon. I am just herre to vacation, but maybe I will stay. My father will not let me be my own man! I think it betterr to stay!" He smiled so broadly that she had to blush. "We would be glad to have you here, Mohamad." He offered her coffee again and this time she accepted. "I make the cup but jhou must mix it, I am forr tea, not the coffee. Come to make it mixed, okay?" Smiling, she followed him, "I will mix my own, what am I waiting for again?" Minutes later Mahmoud called her back to the office. "This is my cousin, Ali. As I discussed with jhou on the otherr day, he is needink some machine forr same business as I have herre. Forr doink binidingk, put the back on the book. "Hello, "she extended her hand. He nodded in her direction but did not extend his hand, "Marhaba." He looked deeply into her face watching her eyes as she exchanged emotion in the altered greeting and business introduction. She looked back at Mahmoud, "Machines? I am real estate!" Mahmoud caught her anxiety before she could get further," "But yu arre verry wise and goodt with the findingk anythingk. He ees good forr money. My cousin haf good business. Biggg business, Khadija. She sat in audience of their discussion barely understanding much of the conversation until Mahmoud thought to call in Mohamad to relay the conversation for Ali and vice versa. He stood behind Ali and relayed the entire conversation so that she understood exactly the type of mmachinery he needed and why. "I will have something for you to look at in two days, maybe less." With that she stood to leave. Her own son was waiting for her return. Hasan Muhammad was not yet out of high school and still in need of a mother's time and patience. "I will call tomorrow." As she departed, they escorted her to the door. Ali smiled and repeated his earlier greeting, "Marhaba." Mo followed her to the car, "And I will listen to jhou on the real estate orr zee translator, I am good!" He smiled as he backed away and back to the office. With a final wave, he disappeared into the building with the other men.

Ali was more relaxed about his task of finding the equipment to replace the broken elements of his offices. It was already a threat to every busines ...the outbreaks of looting and street fights. This was cause for the employees to wavering their attendance at work. It was already a business threat to even the small business ...the invasion at any given moment by insinuating officers and lunatics. Business in their environment held a man's soul in chains. It was like operating on any given day for the duration of the day with gritted teeth. Taut and tensed muscle does not allow room for peace of mind. Although the work back at home was in a critical state for the rate of production, he was enjoying the break from routine. Here, there was no unexpected intrusion to personal or business affairs. The crime at home, the civil war to the south and invasion of militia for an English journalist who had worked his way into the privacy of religious order, held stress for all who lived in Beirut as close as the final day of a prisoner's death sentence. It was the repetition of the intrusion to Indian burial grounds. The situation at home was likened to the American Negro's awakening to find he is not of Africa, but a compilation of every race of mankind. The rekindling of a holocaust. It was the re-establishment of slavery after slavery had been abolished. It was the realization of Klansmen that Caucasian blood ...pure Caucasian had not existed within the realm of mankind since the days of Constantinople. It was the depiction of Hitler abandoning his massed followers at the climax of their "self awareness." It was truly the unthinkable on a daily ...hourly basis. Business was difficult but had to exist for life to be lived. He enjoyed another cup of tea with his cousin in the secure neighborhood of Dearborn. He has allowed himself one week, no longer than two weeks maximum to accomplish his chore. The longer it took, the more they would fall behind in work production. The machines were a necessary element to continued success. There had been good deals struck with interested parties in every country he had traveled to including England. They would consult in exchange of news information and they would form a sort of syndicate for coordination of media, newsprint radio and television. "Who is it herre that jhou go to for zhe news? Jou kno zhe writer... Mahmoud? I am to ghet zhe agreement for reporter for Americaneye news. We have goodt feel for thees in everrywharre but I have to establish herre then home. Who didt jhou consult?" His cousin raised an eyebrow in wonderment at this question before answering, "I work with the other papers for the news. Other paperrs and reporrts frrom zhe home." Ali listened in disbelief. "Neverr mind, I haf zhe idea, goodt idea." He pulled his journalist's card from his pocket. It was an identification for World Friends Club, a writer's group he had joined in his earlier years. It carried his photograph ...a younger image, but his own; and his place of origination along with his name and member number. He removed his passport which revealed an older picture of himself and documented his travels along with his stated occupation. He would try connecting with an American group of journalists. He had not tried this before but it was good business practice to be flexible. He would need a translator for his own ease and for that of the American. He would attempt something new. "Jhou don't have beeg balls... Dhou jhou cousin?! Watch thees!" He picked up the receiver and called Zgheib in from the front office. "Ask forr the numberr to the Amerricanye Prress Club. I will findt one therre." After a brief interlude on the telephone, the secretary produced a number followed by the name of a group in Washington, the nation's capital. National Press Club (202) 535-2020 with a reference for a Mr. Boucher. There would be a conference on the upcoming elections and the state of peace in the middle east as well as world economy. The National Press Club was the assembly of all journalists concerned with the developing world. All journalists who were or any importance to world economy. His name would be entered with the others who would attend. If there were further questions, he would contact Mr. Boucher. "Fine! Now eet ees settle. Andt now I needt a translator. Jhou? Mohamad? I need zem to say only what I say. Eet will mean beeg bizeness! Eef naht jhou, zen will be someone else goodt! This ees goodt." It would mean an understanding would be established. An understanding of minds brought by the Islamic middle east. An understanding would mean peace in the middle east. It was a commodity that had come, would be known for all history, to have come at the highest cost to all mankind. The issue of Peace was the major focus of American and world politics. He had worked the knot out of a major conflict.

In all the countries he had traveled to, Unity was the cutting issue. Unity can only be bought by meeting of the minds. A meeting of the mind is definition of understanding. We are not troubled by that which we understand. With his plan for world communication in existence, there would be room for even those in the war torn country south of them to understand themselves. They could perhaps find that they were all the same. Preference of religion did not or should not cause them to feel excess of difference for their human existence. All over the world, persons of varying color lived side by side. Persons of varying faith lived side by side. Persons of varying ethnic origin lived side by side. The country of the south border was split in its understanding of who they were as a people. Confused as to who they were as a whole. He would talk at the American Journalist Club among a collection of men from a collection of backgrounds ...race, religion, ethnicity, gender, and preferences but all American. This was all good. At 5p.m. he washed for prayer in the small lavatory of his cousin's office. Al-Fatir was a fitting focus for his achievements of the day. He chanted the words amidst a selection of shorter prayers to help keep his focus toward success. In closing, he mouthed out loud, for his cousin to hear, "SUCCOURR." They closed the doors to the small office after Mahmoud made note of work remaining for his employees. They closed the doors and went to eat. Tomorrow promised the return of the real estate lady who could do everything.

She returned one day later with names numbers and addresses for brokers of used and new equipment, computerized and uncomputerized. They would keep appointments at two major dealers in Taylor, Michigan and in Detroit. Chicago boasted a dealer who would meet them at the airport, bring them to location for a tour of merchandise and take them back to the airport. They elected to have her accompany them on the review of machinery. She would get a commission for total sale of equipment at the close of sale. "I am not a broker for machinery. I am merely assisting a client of a real estate deal. I don't want to tie up my entire day with this, I have things to do, a son at home." "Just to go on zhe one meeting forre today lady," Ali was over wraught with emotion, "Jhou cahn do thees?" Mahmoud agreed, they know who you are and the broker will be expecting you to be there. You made the arrangements. Go with us to the Tayloorr brokaerr, andt we will do zhe rrest." It was true, with short notice she had worked well into the day to thin out the best resources for equipment and scheduled appointments for the men in Dearborn with available broker agents. At least one would expect her there today. The others, she could contact with names of who they should expect. She agreed to go and called her son to let him know of her decision. Hasan was eager to continue his assumption of responsibility at watching himself, "It's okay mom. I'm just doing my homework and playing with Fuji. Just bring me some Arabic food, the sandwich ...a shwarma, chicken and beef please. I want that for dinner." "Okay, I won't stay long, see you by 4 o'clock." She settled down to wait until the client had left the office. Mahmoud closed the doors to accompany his cousin and the real estate woman to the broker in Taylor, Michigan. Majid dashed into the office as they made ready to leave. They all piled into the white mercedes and headed south toward the airport to Taylor. The four of them followed as Mr. Hobokin led them through the industrial building that housed printing presses and binding machines. Every related design for the industry was under this one roof. It was not long before Ali caught sight of the exact same machine he had in the building at home. "Herre, thees ees what I haf. I needt one morre that is goodt and maybe new, a new verrsion of thees one." Hobokin's face brightened up, "Ah... Yes, this is a fine machine! I only have two of them. It is for $59,000 used. There is nothing wrong except that it does not have the collator attachment. The collator is here," they followed him a few more paces, "...it was with a different company but belongs with this machine. The prior owner did not use collators for his product. If you are printing and binding you will need this attachment, it does stitching of cloth or leather back. There is also a station for glue so that you are not limited to one form of finish. I will add the second machine for $30,000." Ali cut him off, "...andt what about eh stapler, I haf to use a shorrt item publication at times, no staplerr?" I have one but that is always a less professional finish. You don't want that on the books you are putting out do you?" Ali's expression became more stern. The salesman was trying to dictate. "On the other hand, Mr. Safieddine, I do have an attachment. I don't recommend them, but there are still uses for the stapler. And processing stations necessary to run a job only amount to at most five personnel to get a professional ...quality product. The paper weight can vary from rice paper to fine linen grade. You can run newsprint but I would use a different setup. I'll let them all go for only $125,000." A blatant response of , "Ugh, my Godt!" Changed his expression and track of thought midway, "Well let's see, the stapler is not in high demand now, so perhaps I can drop the price a little ...say, $110,000?" "Ees this all jhou have to show?" Ali was feeling him out for alternatives. There was also the man in Chicago at Baumgartener Press who bought and sold heavy equipment, would pick him up at the airport and pay half the freight for delivery. "...and what of deliverry?" "Oh yes, this has to go overseas doesn't it? My shipper does not carry to certain locations. We may have to arrange something. It will have to go by ship. Truck to the port there in Detroit, then to your area. I will have to get back with you on shipping costs. But let's settle on the price for these, it could be costly. I'll go to $105,000 you pay shipping." "Fine, we ghet a document on thees one. Jhou call me with the rrate to poorrt and we finish paperrs." They left the building with the item number, business card and quoted price for equipment. It was a steal. Much less than Ali had imagined the machines would cost. Shipping would be the bulk of his expenses. Unless he could find a ship that regularly traveled to the region, he would pay dearly. He kissed his cousins and repeatedly thanked the real estate lady almost grabbing her in his excitement. "Ooop! I soorrry!" His cousins exploded in laughter, the joke was on her, it was considered illegal to touch the woman. She did not belong to him in any fashion and could not, would not so much as embrace or shake hands. "It's illegal!" Mahmoud laughed more loudly than his cousins at his own explanation to her of Ali's action. Back at her own car, she thought back upon each meeting with the Arab man. He had not shaken hands with her in any of the meetings, showings or at simple conversations about his gas station purchase. He had shaken hands with the agent for B&P Petroleum but had not so much as extended a hand toward her. "It's illegal to touch a woman not your own ...morally illegal!" She smiled and headed toward the restaurant. Istanbooli's had the best chicken shwarma in town, and Hasan deserved two or three of them.

He had made his connection. "Zhe phun Mahmoud, leht meh use zeh phun..." It was not too late to call his partner back at home to relay the news option. He would be at home, getting ready for the days work and possibly in the middle of morning prayer. He dialed quickly, direct to overseas 011 961 1 839354. There was no answer. It had to be during prayers. The time was 12 hours ahead ...4am, he was either preparing or already into early prayer. It was their policy for an owner to open of be available at opening on a daily basis, especially with the prospect of spontaneous riot outbreak anyplace about the city. Business was good but it was unpredictable of where the next outbreak would fall. It was a life of Russian roulette. At any moment a hand grenade or bomb could be thrown for what reason only the rioters could know. It did not require involvement nor a grievance for competition. It was simply the atmosphere in which they existed. Their product was of good choice, everyone wants and needs to know whether for sentiment or for business reason, the status of person, places and things. Media brings the summary of it all and the holy book offered a means to fill the long hours of anxiety in between. Dialing once more, he noted the time closing in on his own time for prayer. He had hoped to have returned to the leased room by this hour but it did not matter. It was like breathing, for him, it came natural to act at the appointed hour. He replaced the receiver and motioned to his cousin that he was going to the back room. Briefcase in hand, he trailed the halls to the room near the small lavatory again and performed his wash for the fourth time that day and stepped into the adjacent room to prayer. Standing facing the east and Mecca, palms turned upward and feet firmly planted upon the prayer cloth, he spoke quietly audible words. "Bismillah el rahmahn el-rahim, al-hamduaillah rub la al amim..." at close of the introduction of the first Surah, he knelt touching his forehead to the stone from Mecca. His forehead was worn to a slight callous for the repetitions of prayer over time, proof evident of his determination and will to adhere to the ways of the good book and faith. He said a short line and sat back upon his heels to sing the second part of his prayer as the Imam would deliver his early morning call, then stood palms up again. A more lengthy prayer for travelers ...like himself, who were out of reach of the traditional securities. At home everyone would be praying in synchronized effort of submitting will of man to the way of Allah. As his cousins followed their own schedule of actions, he repeated the routine of standing and kneeling several more times before closing. By 7pm he returned to the small office where his cousin stood ready to take him back to the boarding house. He had asked for direction in decisions and guidance for the duration of his trip. He requested wisdom in choice of business contacts and strength to hold to his prayer. "Okeh, now I goh cousin." He flipped his hand up and out toward the door that led to the outside world. "Goh!" Mahmoud put the lights out and the men walked out and into the night.

This year was going to be good to him, 1989 would be their seventh year at e new location and the twenty seventh year of the business operation. The new addition to equipment had already been counted as investment and the old damaged machines, as lost. These shown to him by Mr. Hobokin would bring quick return on their investment and put sales back to where they belonged. It would mean the world would continue to read and worship. The year before had seen him immersed in travel, maintaining accounts and contracting new ones across the Arab world. North Africa ...Morocco, Libya, Algeria and Ethiopia with her split off, Eritrea; would be the final inclusion to the realm of sales. Yemen, north and south, was in conflict and was not safe option to market. Of course, Israel in its state of civil chaos was not open to logic of traditional business. It would be suicide to attempt that frontier except with someone who had come to them. The last stop before this visit now to America, had been Dubai; a small oil rich country off Eritrea. The contact was a good one resulting in agreements to interact with journalism and to continue purchase of the Quran. For centuries, it had been the determination of the entire world to attain harmony. The blatant upheavals for disagreements of politics and religious prejudice had caused continued conflict and oftimes war in the middle eastern world. The civil war of Israel, what had been Palestine since the days of their regional messenger, was the only unpredictable negative in the Arab world. But for usual discontent of politics or the intervention of a rebel group causing riot, the world as he knew it was at peace. It is abnormal within any given country for every man and woman to be satisfied at every given moment. The objective of national rule is to placate as many as possible within its borders. Jerusalem was the center of discontent for the neighbors to the south for the mere designation of a name. What had always been Palestine, had become Israel. Those who were Palestinian... Like those of Lebanon were Lebanese, Like those of America, were Americans... Canada spawned Canadians... Like those of Ethiopia were Ethiopians with or without Salassie, those of India were Indian; those persons of the country below would remain who they were but could not see it for a name. And now they strove to drive themselves out of their country. It was bazaar, no place to try and conduct business. It was difficult to ascertain the real issue of their fight, was it still over religion or the struggle to overtake government; and if so, by whom? They were all the same people. He rationalized that the struggle was a religious one, one of conscious for what had already been done. It was for the mis decisions of history and the guilt which rode heavy upon the backs of those still in that country. It was blind sight and years of confusion, a sign of abandonment of anything greater. In most of the religions that existed, the major belief that supported belief in ONE Creator, were good and sound. The old days though personified by different messenger... Deliverer of the word that good did exist for mankind in his lowest of moments, were all similar. One creator, regardless of the messenger remained the one consistent control. What created differentiation was the practice of worshipping a common good. There were more similarities than either group cared to reveal. It would prove them prejudiced for other reasons. It would shine light upon a character trait that is better left to cover of a cloak. The cloak of security, a shield from the seeing eye; awareness of the true issue of greed. It is not a greater being who tells us to kill our neighbor to gain what is his nor does that being direct masses of believers to kill so that it may have the wealth of the fallen man. That being does not need the land nor does he covet what is formed of the minerals provided by his creation. It is only greed of man that strives for these things. This year would indeed be a productive year for Ali's business, and he had made the entire trip, the total of his travels, keeping good at the masthead of his pursuit. Ritual of prayer kept him from putting himself first and without the direction of goodness in his conscious mind.

Mahmoud stopped at the restaurant to allow his cousin option of a meal before retiring from the day's accomplishment. As the waitress took his order, her boss ...the restaurant's owner, noticed her brushing against his cousin's leg. Ailene was small and fair looking woman from the neighboring community. He had hired her because of her seemed desperation for money to feed a young child. She had told him of a broken relationship with a man from the polish community only a few blocks west of the Arab neighborhood. A relationship that left her unmarried but with a daughter to raise. He had hired her without investigation of her background. "Ailene, my cousin is tirred. Please rush this order, we must gho." His comment caught her attention and sent her off to the back window to relay the order to the cook. "Ali, this one is not goodt. We will leavf herre, as soon as the foodt rreturrn, okeh?" Ali smiled, "Yhes cousin, I see that one is not goodt! She ees not Islamyn, no?" "No, she ees frrom the other one. I halp herre ...she haf a beby. I give herre thees job to halp feedt zee leetle one. Do not follow herre, ees not goodt." Ali laughed that much stronger holding up a finger in a knowing gesture, "Ahhh, ees eh caht !" The woman returned with a styrofoam container and several wrapped items placing them on the counter near the cash register. She tried to catch Ali's eye for approval but found him inattentive. Assuming his cousin had averted good attention, she brushed his arm as she exited from behind the cashier's station. "I have everything you want, is there anything else?" He looked at her. She was small and blonde. A Caucasian woman who had obviously been through rough times for the abrasions and other marks on her face. The hair was combed but not neat and she wore tattered tennis shoes of soiled cloth. He had been traveling for quite a while and had not returned for the comfort of his promised one at home. Despite his cousin's warning, he entertained thoughts of female companionship. His travels had brought him far in requirement for every aspect of preparation for future and continued life, but had not presented him opportunity satisfy human desires. He had held fast to strength in will power by keeping strong prayer and holding close to good intent. This kept his mind focused and impermeable to alternate paths. This woman was not strongly arousing to his manhood but was something available for his use. As she brushed by him she turned her face asking again, "Is there anything else you need?" Mahmoud took her hand and led her to a group of clients coming into the door. "Yourre beby must eat, noh?" He left her standing there with the new group. She looked behind him somewhat insulted at his intervention. Turning back to the group, she made note of the number of persons. "A table for six?" "Agh, yes, therre arre six of us." Ali was somewhat relieved with the intervention of his cousin. Prayer is good, but the will of mankind wavers to human lusts. Ali was indeed human. The woman was toying with him and sexual desire. She tried to arouse him with subtle foreplay, this he was well familiar with. He was thirty four years in the world and no fool to the sexual advances of women. He was well aware of his own sexual prowess and his ability to satisfy a woman. There had been opportunities in other countries throughout the Arab world but he would not fold to urges except with the approval of the client he was guest of. Now, here in America, the woman presented herself; for whatever reason. She was offering him use of her body. There had been no other relationship between them except for her service during the one or two orders placed through her by him for his meal. He had not requested a private meeting with her nor had he suggested interest in her at any point other than quick delivery of the listed dishes relayed to her by him. He had called her to take his order at the days end only a few nights before. It was her job. The night was short of help at the restaurant and required his getting attention of who would take note of a client. He had called to the individual least occupied. The woman looked up from what seemed to be writing after several attempts to gain her attention. He had ordered his meal, eaten and left the restaurant. Mahmoud was sympathetic to others in need and obviously felt his employment of this woman would benefit her by allowing her the income to at least feed her small child. If her man returned, she would have survived his departure. If she had to exist longer than the return of the child's father, the job as waitress would have provided her a resting place until she could do better. It was a good deed and let her remain close to home and the child while working. It was rare that anyone from the polish community to the west meandered into his own, but there were instances where for reasons unavoidable, monies fell into his community for industrial or technological failure. If a vehicle broke down or other machinery fell to disrepair within the boundaries of the arab community, it was logical to have it repaired. The woman had come because she needed a place to work. He was not prejudiced. As they left the restaurant, Ali and his cousin were silent. The short ride to the tenement on Green Street was made longer by the unusual deafness in the air. Mahmoud stopped the car at the curb, "I cannot tell you how to conduct yourre life cousin. I can only make efforrt to rescue you in poor decision. The woman, that woman is not goodt." Ali said nothing, but reached for the handle to open the passenger door. His cousin was usually helpful in issues regarding this community. He knew the woman better than he did himself. "You give fairr judgment of those you arre familiarr with, cousin. Thank you forr the deh." He stepped from the car, pushing the door shut with one elbow and carrying his collection of notes, his meal and the brown leather satchel into the boarding house. His rent on the one room was not a heavy burden and was providing him the space and privacy necessary to conduct business but it was not the place for female companionship. It would be an unpredictable period of time before he would head home again and things were not yet at the point agreed upon with Zaineb for their union. To unite with her in matrimony ...yamzooj, he would need consolidation of all business and definite income plan. She was not equipped to be of assistance in maintaining a family other than as role of a mother and housewife. She was basically uneducated. The woman at Istanbooli's restaurant was available, obviously looking for male comforts and very forward in her intentions. He placed the meal on the stand near his rented bed. As he unwrapped the garnishes, he remembered her words "...do you need anything else?" "I could needt somethink," he said quietly to himself. She had brushed against him, catlike, not too heavily but just enough to make her presence felt. It had been so sudden and unexpected that he had not been given time to react. If not for his cousin's interruption he may have fallen to her suggestion. "Perrhaps I should appreciate a cousin, mehybe ...and mehybe not!." He bit into the Lemon Garlic Chicken savouring the mellow blend of herbs and spices. "I could be ...I am a man ...human too yhes." The chicken was like the cooks at home had preppared. It was good along with the Babaghanoug and Tabouleh. It excited his taste buds as his thoughts about what could have ben with the woman, excited his male gender. His mind played with him, his senses urged on by scintillation of aromatic herbs. The pleasantries of the meal before him coaxed thought of other delights he had grown too well at denying from himself. The words of the woman repeated themselves in the recesses of his memory, her voice gaining additional utterances placed by his own sexual desire. Her outfit was not unusually alluring for a waitress but had been magnified by her forward actions. His memory made it much tighter to the waist and revealing at the breast. He imagined her in his room. His imagination placed her near him again, brushing against his thigh causing him slight erection now. It had not happened then, there was no interest except in his goal of accomplishing business. Imagination brought her into positions he had not entertained until now. The balance of his meal lay untouched as he mentally seduced and allowed his own seduction by the woman. He allowed urges to take a natural course before being disturbed by his own internal clock. He looked over at his table to notice it was time pray again. Time had slipped by him in his preoccupation with undue gratuities. Feeling slight embarrassment, he jumped up to wash for the last prayer of the evening. He was violated. He had violated his own purities. Violation was cause for reparition. He would have to atone for his weakness of sexual lusts. Lusts that he had struggled to avoid during his travels and in the absence of those familiar to him. It was demonstration of weakness. A weakness that any good Muslim should not fall prey to. He desired to be good within himself. He stood to prayer, palms up and arms slightly outstretched. Prayer of the first Islamyn, the renewal of faith followed by a prayer for forgiveness. Forgiveness of self for deeds done to others or to self. Ar-Rahman was a plea for a return to what was due the Creator ...justice. It was said in knowing that there are concessions for every one thing, every one of mankind to have its justified coupling in the eye of goodness. He repeated the lines for his own concentration and its effect upon his subconscious. He said words recorded for and by man for centuries, used to self-atonement. Ali closed after a soul draining forty five minutes in prayer. He closed with Sura An-Nasr ...the Help of Allah, and Victory. He needed forgiveness, if only for his own peace of mind. He had violated none but himself, his inner peace. His own constant level of control had been disrupted. Prayer allows one balance of conscience with spirit; self-introspect otherwise not achieved. The detachment of self from things outside of mind and body grants time for reflection of the inner being. He desired victory, a victorious return from his journeys and must therefore return to his steadfast determination. Victory ...success required a focused mind.

Back at his own home in the north suburb of West Bloomfield, Mahmoud settled after his own prayer. His wife of ten years had not returned with their six children from a visit with her mother and family in Beirut. He had prayed for their safety in returning and during their visit. His prayers had included resolve for his own sanctity in mind; for clearness in thought and action. He had not used the small catechismal booklet which he offered to those who frequented his print shop, but knew all too well the ramifications of the chosen ayat, Sura An-Nas; that he should seek refuge with Allah and not in the ways or wiles of man nor woman. It was mental reassurance of strength and support. He considered what he had caused in his personal act of deflecting the woman from his cousin. His own determination that the two would not be good together, would have not positive outcome; could have created a difficult situation. He may have caused development of interests that may otherwise have been curtailed in his hasty intervention of action and reaction. He had not trusted his cousin to respond properly in not acknowledging the woman's attempt at seduction. He felt time would come for his cousin; but the waitress, Ailene, was not the one. Her inception to the path of progress could ruin his cousins as well as his own current goal. They both needed direct focus on business. It was well enough that he had given her a job. He would not offer her a relative to waste. The woman was not respective of the Islamic religion, did not attempt to give credence to his guests at the restaurant or the traditions of Islam. She was not overly courteous but he bore patience with her ignorance of pleasing the client. He was patient for the sake of her child. Already she had been at the restaurant in the Arabic community for several months, always the same. Always trying to interest any of the men who ventured in for a meal or to whet their thirst of tea or coffee. He had grown unnerved for his decision to hire her but would not fire her because she did come to work. Ailene was not the best of employees, but she had done no great wrong according to the employee employer writ of actions. Their alliance had been that she would work in the role of waitress for him in the given restaurant. Nothing more ...nothing less. If at all possible his cousins would not fall prey to her whim. Half thinking and half not thinking, he called his Realtor at her residence. She had moved near a university community south of his office since their first meeting, but held to the goal of finding a location for his gas station. He was acting was out of context again, but he dialed never the less. Three rings found her still awake, "Helloo, Ms Muhammad. I know eet ees leht but I needt you to do somethink eef jhou don't mind. Couldt jhou plese cohm to zee office soon again. Ees not juhst to ghet zee machin of my cousin, but to ghet zee gaze station paperrr strraight too. I needt to talk to jhou. Mehbe on dinner? Jhou andt jhourr son, Hasan? We haf jhou forr zhe dinnerr? We cahn talk andt jhou will haf a goodt meal, yhes?" From the other end of the telephone cable he could hear a tired but half hearted 'okay'. She would come for dinner, she and her Hasan. It was past ten going into midnight, he smiled from relief and let the receiver sit back upon its mantle. They would have her to a catered dinner; he, his cousins, nephews and their uncle. She and Hasan would change the direction of recent business.

Her late night acceptance to dinner brought approval by Hasan who had grown appreciative of the tart sauces and vegetarian combinations which comprised the typical middle eastern meal. Since just before their move to the university town, he and his mother had become familiar with an intentional vegetarian diet. The restaurants of middle eastern focus provided perfected menus for this diet choice. At their prior residence further north in Southfield, Michigan; they were privy to a more Jewish diet. In the presence of Ishmael, they were privy to a diet that presented them plentiful meats, fish and varied vegetables. It was good but not as stringent as the foods available in the levantine scenario. They spent the early part of the day finishing work and homework assignments so that the balance of the day could be spent freely. By early afternoon, they departed for the Detroit area. The restaurant in Dearborn was the suspected focal point of their visit, but she stopped at the printing office to verify their choice of selection. The men inside were busily running another week's newsprint in a combination of Arabic script with intercessions of English words in small patches of ads. They were familiar with the two, Khadija had been there often and her son had been seen on several occasions of her visits. She did not struggle to ask for directions in Arabic; it was still new to her. Instead, she asked for the secretary. Mohamad had been here, seated at the front desk in the place of the missing woman, on most of her recent visits. Today, he was not there. With much conversation, the larger of the two men in the printing area drew her a map to Majid's station. "Zgheib is therre, zeh sucrratarry, yhes, overr therre!" "Oh. Thank you, As-salaamu ailaikum!" She departed before he could say much more.

They were gathered around him when she arrived. She parked the blue LeBaron watching in amazement. His facial expression, one of sheer abandonment, revealed he was struggling to remain calm as the men around him determinably dictated his actions. He attempted to hold a sense of humor in the air as they endeavored to teach him their way. "You want to be like us! Then walk like us, you got to be more like this." One of the young men in the group made special effort to walk with a limp feigning one leg shorter than the other. The entire group were dark skinned residents from the neighborhood where the gas station was located. Of Majid's six stations, this one on Tireman was in the midst of all black homes and businesses. Zgheib had come over to help in the absence of an injured employee. The Safieddines were keeping him in work but he was never evolving to what he needed to grow within himself. Since his arrival he had been in their company filling in where an employee became ill or injured. Although he sought work, it was not easy coming for him because of his student visa status. At twenty seven, he was not accomplishing as fast as he should. Had he been at home he would be married and in some line of business or in a directed position of employment. Based upon the norm for progress in age in Lebanon, at twenty seven he was falling behind. His education was not lacking but his personal accomplishment was several years stagnated. He was not involved in a relationship, would not go home to the specified female for his future nor was he changing settling on a course for his future. He had last spoken of getting more education at a time when he should be considering starting his family. The men about him now were his age but of a different upbringing. They were often at this station, usually for cigarettes or gas and at times for assembling at the corner near the phone. He had come out to tell them Majid's message. They were intimidating his customers. Several women, black and white, had expressed tension for their drifting about. Zgheib had overheard one woman's complaint and took it upon himself to act in their confidence. He had asked them to gather elsewhere and the response had accumulated to what was now before her. They had turned to harassing him. "You try it man, go dog, let's see you walk like us if you down with us. You wanna be here, be us then ARaaab!" Mohamad took a wry stagger in imitation of the black youth mouthing off in front of him. He looked pathetically painful. Khadija stepped in. With her skirt tight at her knees and blazer flying open, she tipped over to the crowd, "What are you doing!" All heads turned in her direction. She repeated, "Mohamad, what do you think you're doing!" The young men from the neighborhood watched in awe as she reminded him of his goal, "Accountants don't pimp!" The mouthy one spoke again, "He say he one o us, gon be like us. He say he fittin in, what's it to ya?" Khadija looked at the man speaking. His jeans hung loosely about his waist and on his head was a baseball cap spun sideways as though he had brushed it against whatever object he had been working on. He smiled in response to her scrutiny, flashing a mouth full of gold rimmed teeth. There was a star on one. "Well he'll have to learn to walk some other time. For now, he has to show me where I'm going." Then to Zgheib, "Come on here, you'll have to play at this walking game some other time. Where are the Safieddines? I'm supposed to meet with them for dinner and they are not at the Tech-no-Press, did they leave a message with you?" The crowd outside dispersed as he stood inside the station trying to find the message left by Ali and Mahmoud. Each had left instructions for him. He read the portion left for him regarding the real estate lady. "Tell her we will be at my house. Six o'clock is fine." He noted the section written in Arabic by Ali. There is something else here, it is by Ali." He smiled. "I don't think it is right for me to say this..." Majid who had been preoccupied with his cashier and a client until now, intervened, "What?" And peered over to see the note. Zgheib pulled the paper away. "No, it is frrrom my boss, it is privacy!" He repeated, "They will see you for this meeting at the home." He smiled at Khadija and said nothing more. Hasan darted inside, "Com'on mom, what are you doing? Wait, I need some gum!" He bought a package of gum and beef jerky, distracting Majid once more as the cashier stepped from behind the counter and out into the service bay. As Hasan made proper change for his purchase, Mohamad asked Khadija more about herself. She stepped out to the car as he followed listening and flashing his eternal smile. As Hasan left the doorway, Zgheib made a note to call her. "I haf jhour numberr, I will call; and I wasn't goink to get black!" He smiled more broadly going toward his own car. As Hasan leaped into the seat next to her Mohamad yelled back, "Ms. Muhammad, keep in touch...please!"

Mohamad had been running, feigning pursuit of education and love for years. His every report to his father had been that he was learning. The promise to report back home often was preeminent in his daily routine. "Yes father! I will." His father was not understanding. His son had not yet married but ran from the woman he himself had chosen for him. It was not possible that he was not attractive to the women, he favored the young Valentino. He was not poor in his charm nor graces, he had learned well in the private training and then at the American University at Beirut. He was not unintelligent, but had not yet settled down. It was beginning to be of some concern. It had been relayed that a girl in the community had taken interest in the young Zgheib, but he had not yet demonstrated interest in her. It was relayed that he was passing time in fantasies. He pulled out of the parking space and headed for his own leased space in the Arabic community, He went home determined to invite the Ms. Muhammad over for a meal and a discussion, she was refreshing, not like the other women.

Traffic held them captive for almost an hour. For almost an hour, Hasan marveled about the foods he liked and hoped had been included on the menu for the evening. For almost an hour, they laughed about the misunderstood mannerisms of the world of Islam. Those they had met were not the heathens described in their youth ...his nor even further back into his mother's. These "Muslims" were pleasant to be around, as pleasant as any other group of people. As Khadija pulled into the curved driveway, she could taste remnants of flavors long past her taste buds. She motioned to her sixteen year old to move on it! They were greeted by a very small woman, Basil's wife, who escorted them into the foyer where they found faces of those more familiar to them. Mahmoud, Ali and the uncle were seated in the front room around a center table which displayed an array of bowls with snacks in them. Upon seeing them, the two dining guests tuned their attention to the men. "Good evening, Mahmoud ...Ali, Sayed. It is a good evening isn't it? You all look so very serious here!" "Ah, but we arre! We arre serrious, min Khadija! We arre business men ...yehs?" "The young man therre, Hasan... He shouldt join men , come in with us...andt jhou arre zhe woman, yes?" Sayed had met both the woman and her son on earlier occaisions but was not comfortable with the woman in the prescence his family men. This woman was always alone. If she were alone and so often in their presence, it meant certain challenge for the spirits of his family. With the frequent travels of his daughter, Mahmoud was too often left alone. With Basil and Akram keeping late hours and with the distance between the car wash and their homes, they too were at risk. He thought it better to re-direct their focus to increased business, their wives were his daughters. He smiled at her now, Jhou go in with the women?" Khadija had already seen the uncle's apprehension for her in the vicinity of the men of his family. It was her job to be available to all and any client that requested assistance at locating property ...residential, commercial or industrial. The search for business property was one that had come only from this household. She had not ventured to do business of this matter except for a Christian church congregation that was in need of a new structure. The church's clergyman had called asking assistance with locating a building and the church group had been specific to the community in which they would settle, the Safieddine was open where location was concerned. Other related files were only in the development stage and held no restriction on her as yet. Mr. Safieddine's account had just expanded to he special request of assisting this cousin with locating business equipment. It was not intended to had grown to anything more that a simple suggestion but the men had worked out a method by which she would get commission on the sale. They were paying her to locate and settle the sale of equipment, something outside of her career license requirement and duty. It was a freelance operation.. This dinner was a gratuity of that agreement. She entered the sitting room with her son, "No, Sayed, I am the business mind here, I sit in the business circle." The women smiled and returned to setting up the foods catered by Mahmoud's restaurant. They had deliberated with him earlier, it was his guest, he should prepare the food. He complied and had a seven course meal prepared at Istanbooli's and brought to the house. He had done well with the kitchen.

"Dinnerre ees serrvedt!" Hanah culled them in from the sofa and business conversation. As they entered and took the preplanned seating arrangement, Ali moved to exchange seats with his cousin, Akram placing him on the other side of the table next to his wife. Sayed sat at the head of the table in the seat of the elder and Mahmoud took the foot of the table. Hasan sat at the the arm of his mother. When all had settled to their respective seats, Sayed, the oldest of the Safieddines in the Islamic community of Dearborn, said prayer over the feast before them then thanked the producer of the occasion. Amid a roundtable of conversation, they wore thin the multitude of Levantine and Greek dishes served them. Several trays of Baklavah hot tea and espresso coffee finished the tour of middle eastern savor that had enticed the small group gathered in the dining area this night. By the meal's end even Hasan knew words of the Arabic language. He had added an new favorite to his preference of foods, the lemon-garlic chicken or Herbed Chicken was tender enough to swallow without chewing, It was a hit with him. As the men separated from the women again Hasan followed carrying with him the small demitasse cup of spiced chocolate prepared for him by one of the men's wives. As he demonstrated sign language to the attending woman, and others near him, his mother helped to clear the table. It had been a successful bonding session. Sayed was more relaxed in the presence of and with the presence of the single woman in the midst of his family members. At 10 p.m., he led prayer again after emitting the call to prayer for the small group; he recited a prayer of trust and for peace. Trust to held among those of his family in those members he had so often struggled in concern for and peace for those back home in the middle east. It was every day that risk was assessed for the regional traveler and for the man conducting routine business on any given day. It was unknown when riot would break out causing mass hysteria or single injury. It was unknown when, for support of issues unknown ...a militia man would intervene when he had not screened cause. With the close of prayer, Khadija and Hasan who had prayed in accompaniment of the group, sat back as the senior family member called over seas to include family members not present. After three tries within twenty five minutes he spoke with persons on the other end despite the static in the cable. With the training in levantine Arabic language courses, Khadija could make out interspersed lines of the message relayed and questions applied form the man that stood in her company. ".. Et muherdinne." Someone was dead for reasons and causes unknown. She was not excessively well versed in the totality of the language and snooping into the conversation was to her an act of rudeness. Upon hearing it, she stepped away and into the room with her son and the men. As the older man concluded his conversation and began to relay the message given to those near him, she brought conclusion to her visit with them for the evening. She expressed the need for her own review of files for work and studies, and reminded her son of his own. With graces exchanged, they stepped out and into the night for the long ride home.

He had been unnerved at her intervention to his family's ever American venture of late. There was nothing now, that was of American concern, that did not incorporate the woman. She was an American and an outsider. To beat all this, she was of the black community. Never in all of his almost sixty three years had he known of such to go on in the clan of the Safieddines. They had been a family unto themselves and at most, the Islamic community. He had considered her an affront on his entirety until tonight. She was knowledgeable in her career field, had admirable goals for a woman and appreciated his peoples. She had demonstrated an understanding of the ways and whys of the middle east and of Lebanon ...the people. Uncle's apprehension faded with her continued introduction into the focus of business affairs and in the knowledge of Ali's need for business success. He admired her determination at completing the sale and transfer of the critical equipment. He would introduce her to community. It was not much they had not already seen in her, the cousins and now their wives. Of the women, she was indeed the most odd, she did not hover around the kitchen to make woman talk like the others, but focused more on the details of business like the men. "Che ees America? Noh?" The other women made ammends for her in the few gatherings in or outside of the community environ. She had a different upbringing, different customs. American custom dictated independence in its women; independence and survivalism. These were critical skills in a country where at any moment the very defenders of justice may turn upon the victim it is devulged to protect. Some severe degree of self-awareness and self- veneration was a necessary element of any American. It was a trait necessary in the world's society but even more so in some countries than in others. She was understood as the American real estate lady, not for her color but for her tenacity. She had won family approval. It would be upon the uncle to extend an invitation. ...an introduction to invitation to community. After the invitational meal, it was apparent that there would be no problem with this, no problem and little hesitation.

Within the next week, Mr. Downs called the home number to relay news from his corporate office on the offer to purchase property. It was not rare to receive outside offers on closed fuel stations and the option to reopen as B&P or as an alternate was of little accord as long as prior notice were given. With documentation that fuel and franchise were not a requirement, Downs was the more relaxed in concluding the deal. This agent, Ms. Muhammad, had come as an unexpected but was listed as a licensed Realtor with an office in West Bloomfield; one of the better areas within the county. The offer presented and manner in which presentation was made was as expected but intricacies such as commission were to be derived prior to final closing. The corporate office inserted option of removing existing tanks at the buyers expense or at the company's expense as a requirement under Environmental Protection Agency - Department of Natural Resources latent regulation. It was overlooked by the local office and not acknowledged by the offeror or the agent. The issue of ground contamination surfaced with short notice. The previous owner was logically liable to make reparition but because they had not pursued it, the responsibility was falling upon those of the approaching contract. "I've just received response form my home office, you might want to bring your client over to review the counter, or perhaps you can express the issues at hand to him well enough without his seeing the notations." Khadija replied in the buyer's stead, "No, it is better to have the buyer present. It is his money, he will be there." She made note to call the client and set a secured date for meeting with Mr. Downs then called her client. Mahmoud was relieved to have some progress on his own business venture and agreed to make any appointed date she scheduled. Khadija called the Petroleum company representative back to initiate a meeting date.

Zgheib sat at the front desk visible upon entry to the Tech-No-Press office. His expression relayed something of displeasure was on his agenda again today. As he sat disgruntled at office desk, the others milled about oblivious to the male secretary. He was doing them great service for being there in a moment of need, and felt that they neither appreciated it nor acknowledged his efforts. "I really don't like these Safieddines, Khadija!" She stopped in her tracks and tilted her head in question of his statement. They were his hosts here in Dearborn and were responsible to his own family for his welfare. "Why do you say this, Mohamad?" "I ...things just arre noht as they chouldt be... My fatherre would not be so pleasedt. I shouldt make a betterre progress but can not like this. I think I needt to be going to somethingk betterre. I wouldt go to home but I do not want to be zhe failiurre. I wouldt make goodt on my own and not at the help of my fatherre. I do it forre my self." They were restricting him to their use, limiting his opportunity for progress and growth. These are the two most forbearing issues in the youth of any one individual. If he were to become a man on his own accord, he would need the space to develop into that individual he would be. "Why not enroll in school Mohamad. In school you would have time to think, space to work for a living and learn what is better and worse for you future. It would give you a focus and some idea of what your strengths are. And you don't have to walk any certain way." He smiled at the last comment. She had been a success ant killing the ides that were drowning his usual mirth. "Do you attend the community center?" She prompted him further. "Of course I do, everyone does. We go there to socialize, intermingle with the opposite sex in an acceptable way for those of us not married to anyone. We are not liable for any wrong doing this way. I go sometimes, not at every meeting, but I go. Why do you ask?" "I may go sometime." She was trying to determine if she would tell him of the invitation by Sayed to attend the next meeting. Friday would be her introduction. "Are you going Friday?" He was unmoved at the question. "If I go and take you the others will not understand. There is this girl there who..." "I was only asking if you are going!" She laughed at him, "I didn't ask you to take me there!" When her laughter calmed, she asked to be directed to Mahmoud. "Oh, arre jhou herre forre him?" "Of course, it is his office." He blushed as he offered her a seat and dashed off down the hall to get the office manager and owner. He reappeared with Mahmoud close on his heels, "Arre jhou taking my visitorrs Mohamad!?" He quickly added, "This is my office. Answer the phone." He led her back to the office where within minutes, they departed for the petroleum company's office in Troy. Mr. Downs was expecting heavy disagreement, what he received was an approval on the company's removal of existing tanks, Mobil had agreed to provide their own fiberglass tanks and any clearing of spoiled soil. He was coming with a deposit on the sale. Closing was estimated to take place before the return of his wife and children, in late August of 1988. The $25,000 was more than the agreed deposit amount and the contract agreement for transfer of monies was witnessed by Attorney Leiberman for the buyer's security. It would be the best gift and surprise for is wife yet. The Realtor would reap a 10% commission on the commercial sale when it closed and contracts with Mobil Oil Corporation were instituted. On leaving the office, he forgot his social customs and hugged the lady Realtor with abandonment. "It ees Goodt!"

Attendance at community gathering required proper covering. Khadija was given a large scarf which was wrapped by Sayed himself. After allowing him to wrap and tuck to his satisfaction, they entered the Friday masjid meeting. "I am happy with this Khadija, I am happy that you have come to my family." He paused to cough from the congestion caused by his heavy smoking. Of the several men in his family, he was the only one who smoked. He did so enough for each of the other men, camel cigarettes and when necessary he screened nicotine by use of a water pipe. Standing here before her, it seemed as though he would keel over from the forceful heaving he was suffering. As she tried to remind him of the damage done by smoke, he wheezed even more deeply causing is face to flush deep red. "Do you have a doctor for that? It seems you really have a problem, Sayed." She had not heard such heavy breathing reaction from anyone smoking or otherwise; not even her own chain smoking father. He smiled when the flesh grazed raw within his chest would allow him. "Thank you forre zhe concern," he smiled back with what seemed to be great effort. Mahmoud had come to his side and was peering into the older man's face concerned that he would breath afterward. When he was satisfied that all was well, he escorted the other two into the great room of the center blending into the crowd to find seats at the arrangement of long tables. Directly across from them was a podium where a small group was assembling, one of whom was an even older man who was clearing his throat. Within minutes the crowd settled and grew silent. The individual at the podium rang out in a clear call, vibrating vocal chords in repetition of the prayer echoed in tall towers at far middle eastern worlds. The placement of one hand at the side of his head and just behind his ear seemed to clarify his tones all the much more. The group followed in chant of several Suras before getting to the business at hand. They were concerned with the aid and support of business persons in the community and with the alignment of funds for businesses that were elected to begin. There would be a vote to determine community funding and support of the entities of discussion. Other issues included introduction of certain individuals traveling, missing or new to the community on a whole. The introductions were that they should be made aware of anyone not already a familiar entity. There were no strangers here. She was introduced to various Realtors and businessmen of the community and made welcome to their midst as a family guest of the Safieddines. Partnership would be the best offer he could make, according to his cousin. Mahmoud had already glared at him for suggesting interest in the woman. Mahmoud considered her to be his friend and therefore not accessible in his mind with his permission, to his cousin. She had come into the small office during the course of a routine day to discuss progress on his own business file. Ali was seated before the front door at the side of Zgheib's desk waiting for the close of business when the woman arrived. In his absentmindedness, he had blurted out loud, "I want thees one." She had stopped in her tracks as did Mahmoud, his face blushing deep red. It was not his custom to offer women to men in his office. It should have been out of question for his cousin to be so forward. "What! Cousin! jhou cannot! Che ees my friendt. Thees one can not be jhourres! Che will halp with the busineness only!" With the protective barrier tossed up by Mahmoud, she recovered her professionalism and called him to the back office to relay ammendments to his file. The petroleum company was processing his offer.

She returned home from the early morning's class to find Hasan and Ali seated upon the heavy sofa, Ali's legs folded under him like the swamis seen in flying carpet movies and cartoons, Hasan beaming from the conversation shared by this new friend. He was not fluent in the English language but had been studying as evident in the tablet with scribblings of words equal in definition. As the two watched those exercising on the television screen and discussed what the concern was, Ali scribed words in Arabic letters on his notepad. The caption on the television screen told Hasan what the actors intention was. Hasan's hearing deficiency was not a barrier to conversation between the two. At sixteen, he was relating well with an unintelligible man. Ali's heavily accented English and interspersed lines of Arabic did not lose him in breadth of dialogue, they were using hand signs and gestures, Hasan teaching his new stepfather English sign language. Ali understood the loss of hearing. There were many in his own country with the problem, there had been years of deafening explosions that would cause such damage to the people of his region of the world. What he did not understand was the cause for deafness. He made note to locate a better hearing device for the younger man.

He had made the venture toward Majid for use of his Appoline address for mail from home. He would be moving physically to the small apartment until she had finished with her courses. Finished her courses and her sentence to the institution. It would require one year, one last year of her studies remained to graduation With her studies complete, she would be more valuable to any line of business, whether in her real estate, land development, or the business they had discussed... construction. He was not yet aware of her intentions at being an integral part of military logistics ...mapping, satellite tracking, and operation of satellite systems. Her prior training in the army signal corps had prepped her for encryption of secured information, although she was two years out of that career; and present studies guaranteed her appointment in high technology field. The Department of Defense and Offices of State Military Affairs had already verified her as a secure entity. Because they had pre approved his entry to the United States, there would be no need to worry about breach of security. He would marry for the best business contacts and solve the crisis at home. "Ye Khadija, I ... Would't jhou think, eh thees business we talk of, eet wouldt be morre betterr eef jhou werre in like zhe parrtenerre yes?" He raised his eyebrows in his own difficulty in presenting the issue to her and for help in expressing words in his limited command of the english language "Do jhou think, eh would jhou like a man like meh... Maybe forre goodt? I am goodt and goodt business. I wouldt be goodt forre zhe husbandt ..eh juwwez.. I see jhourre Hasan and I know him ..his problem; I wouldt be goodt forre jhou. Where arre jhou goingk when jhou arre finish with zhe school? Jhou come with me. Marry me. Beit yamzooj,.. eh-juwwez" She was amazed, he had only recently met her. He knew only of her assistance with locating the equipment and had no idea of her past. What about the military? Lebanon was not an enemy state but, she did not know the policy on other countries and which countries there might be an alliance against. Lebanon had not been an issue for over fifteen years for the United States and although Israel drew sympathy of America, it was not her country's problem what went on in Israel. They were the one's with a problem in relating. It was a good option for income and for having a roll in the solution for peace in the middle east."Let me think about that one Ali." She smiled at his integrity. "I haf talk to my family and I know of zhe community supporrt, I think jhou arre goodt andt that ees enough." "Oh,", she was still caught off guard, had not expected him to ask such a question. She was ready for the suggestion of business, had toyed with the idea for percentage for her share of work; but marriage was a different issue. She really would have to think about it, what it would mean and what it would do to her plans for future. As she ran possibilities through her mind, he stood announcing his departure. "Okeh, I go ...jhou think. It ees good, I am goodt forre jhou, goodt futurre. I go andt jhou think." As she sat dumbfounded, he stepped out onto the small walkway leaving for Green Street. He would let her think about it overnight, and over his trip home. He was leaving to finalize paperwork for purchase of the machines.

Evening prayer was caught just after his preferred time. It was after ten when he finally completed everything and returned to the small tenement on Green. He was content knowing that when he returned from the trip home, any correspondence would be safe at the home of a relative. He had made good selection in asking the woman to marry for business and future. He had done well in locating the missing element for enhancing the quality of production at the business back home. It was time for a prayer for celebration. To this point he had done well.

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