BOMBER BOY
{Episode 1}
By Ike Pius
Sunday, June 09, 2013.
Editor’s note: This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to any person or event is purely coincidental.
He
pressed the switch to trigger the bomb, and he closed his eyes. Just
then, he felt a jolt. The other passengers in the plane were also
shaken; he heard some of them exclaim. But then, some of them started to
laugh playfully again as if nothing had happened. Farouk had expected
an explosion, but clearly, there had only been some air turbulence.
He
pressed the switch again, again, and again. He did not understand: The
Brothers had told him that all he had to do was put his hand under his
shirt and press the switch. The plane would explode-he would go to
Paradise, and the infidels would go to hell.
Despite the air conditioning, Farouk started to sweat.
The white man seated next to him gave him a concerned smile.
“Is everything alright, my friend?” He asked.
Farouk glanced at him, and tried to smile. He then scratched his head as he thought of something to say.
“All this shaking is getting to me”, Farouk lied, “I think I am getting a little sick”.
“You’ll
get over it. Just relax. Breath deeply and regularly. Besides, its only
about half the journey left. You have made it this far.”
Farouk
nodded, and smiled back at the white man. He seemed really nice. Pity
that he should die. He had introduced himself as Matt, or Mark, or
something, but that was hours ago. Farouk did not remember because he
was too occupied with blowing up the plane. Those western names all
sound alike, and what was the point of remembering the name of a person
you were about to send to hell?
Farouk got up.
“I have to use the rest room”, he said.
As
he made his way to the back, where the rest rooms were, Farouks’ eyes
met with several of the co-passengers. It was only his second time of
going to the rest room but he thought that some of them looked at him in
a funny way. Except of course the pretty airhostess at the door to the
restroom. Farouk thought that she liked him. Airhostesses should be
pretty and courteous, but Farouk suspected that her smile was much more
than courtesy. It lasted too long, and she seemed to blush. Too bad she
would soon go to hell.
Inside
the rest room, Farouk quickly removed his jacket and shirt, dropping
them on the floor, and then took off the bomb which was designed like a
waistcoat. He examined the bomb to see if any of the wiring had come
loose. It looked good.
Farouk sat down on the toilet seat and sighed deeply. Time to die.
He
pressed the switch and waited. Nothing. He pressed the switch again and
again, each time listening to the clicking sound it made. Then he
realized that there was nothing he could do to make the damned thing
blow up. He threw it down. “Oh my god, I am screwed.”
Farouk
knew he had to think fast. If the bomb was discovered on him, either on
the plane or at the airport, he was sure he would go to jail.
Farouk
thought about The Brothers. They would be waiting for news that the
Northwestern Airlines Flight 253 had exploded. When the news would not
come, they would get mad! They would think he had sabotaged them.
Farouk
thought about his mother, brother and sisters. Father was also alive
but Farouk hated him. In fact, if The Brothers decided to kill him,
Farouk would be quite hapy for it. But Mama and the kids-it was for
their sake that Farouk had agreed to go on the mission. Not because he
believed in any Jihad, or because he wanted to go to any Paradise!
Farouk
picked up his clothes and started to put them on. Then he folded the
bomb and put it behind the toilet seat. The stupid thing would not blow,
so he would not go to jail for nothing.
Farouk opened the door.
**************************************************************************
To be continued.
--
Ike
Pius has grown from writing and editing low budget radio dramas to the
status of author and independent writer. His first novel, The Paradise That Was, is
available for download on Amazon.com. He is also a contributing writer
to many online magazines and content sites. He blogs at onelovespace.wordpress.com