Jannah. [SEQUEL TO DAWUD]

Chapter 13: Tarzan & Aladdin

In the name of God, the Most Gracious, the Most Merciful

If the time of prayer has been called and you haven't prayed before reading this, please do so.

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Dawud's P.O.V

I ushered Jannah back into the bedroom as she struggled to adjust the sleeves of my blazer. 'You have a class to get ready for!' I reminded her, biting back a smile. She shook her head, telling me that this meeting of mine was much more important. I took ahold of her thin hands and set them at her sides. 'I love you, I really do, but you're making me a lot more nervous than I should be.' With a sigh, she gave up, stepping back. I slid my fingers across the collarbones that peaked form her low-cut knit sweater and smiled. Jannah bit her lip shyly, covering her face. Her shyness always pushed me to be more affectionate. 'And happy twenty years on this earth.' I whispered, causing her to look up in surprise.

'You don't celebrate birthdays!' She laughed as I walked over to the shoe rack with my briefcase in hand. I slipped my shoes on with ease and winked at her before shutting the door behind me.

After eating lunch up in my office, I decided to pay a visit to the warehouse. The second I swung the entrance door open, the employees froze in their tracks. 'Ya Allah!' One of the older women shouted with a grin. The younger woman in front of her set down the stamp she was holding and stared at me with awe.

'What is it?' Abdurahman, a man who was the same age as my father asked them, walking away from the books he had been wrapping in plastic. Upon locking eyes with me, he began to laugh, disbelief laced all over his face. 'Dawud!' He shouted, steering everyone's attention towards me. I stood there, looking at the ground shyly. 'You look, without protest, identical to your father.' He finally said. The staff nodded their heads in agreement. All of the employees here were like family to me. They would drown me in love every time I visited them but would also remind me of my father and his absence.

I smiled painfully and turned around, returning back to the office upstairs. I removed my blazer and took a moment to breathe. I saw my father everywhere. I saw him in the windows of this building, sitting in every chair and speaking to every employee. He managed this company with such ease...such perfection. His absence was a burden to even the newest of employees who had worked under him for less than a month. He made the bookstore a success and honored the cashiers, the warehouse employees and the janitors on the same level. He dedicated his time to this place. I just wish he could have dedicated a little bit of his time to his family. My mother and I.

I hadn't noticed the way my fist was clenched tightly. My nails had dug into my palms, tearing the skin there. I stretched my fingers, relieved that there was no blood. I began to chuckle, not completely sure why. 'Ya Rabb, you were my supporter the second I entered this world..' I blurted. 'And you will be my supporter even after I enter my grave.' I said a little louder. Looking to the sky, I grinned, remembering the hadith from Prophet Muhammad narrated in Saheeh Muslim, where he said "Amazing is the affair of the believer, verily all of his affairs are good and this is not for anyone except the believer. If something of good befalls him, he is grateful and that is good for him. If something of harm befalls him, he is patient and that is good for him". I shook my head. 'Alhamdullilah.'

I slipped on my t-shirt and visited Akhlaaq at the bookstore. He was dealing with a customer so I decided to fix the disordered shelves by standing the books upright. I couldn't help but overhear their conversation.

'Brother, how long have you been working here?' A young girl inquired. You could hear the smile from her words. She seemed to be our age. I bit my lip, excitedly anticipating his answer. It was clear that she was flirting with him.

'Four years.' He replied, slipping her books into a bag.

'That's a long time!' She added. There was a pause.

'And how will you be paying? Debit or cash?' Akhlaaq asked her flatly. She finally took the hint, paying from her debit card and leaving the store with her shoulders hung low. I stepped out from behind the shelves and shook my head in disbelief.

'My man!' I applauded him, patting his thick shoulder. Akhlaaq laughed sheepishly. 'I forgot how much fitnah there was working up at cash.' I said honestly.

'Prior to getting married, it was something I enjoyed. May Allah forgive me.'

'Ameen.' We said in unison.

'But now? I just imagine how Muna would cut me into pieces if she ever saw me respond to that kind of behavior.' We laughed and it felt good to let loose and be honest. 'I know she seems like a quiet miskeenah, but she can be scary!'

I wiped the tears from my eyes from laughing too hard. 'Jannah's like that too, but instead of getting mad, she gets sad.' I explained.

Akhlaaq nodded understandingly. 'If I was your wife, I'd react the same way.' He said. I looked at him questionably, causing us to break into a hysterical fit of laughter once again. 'It's true!' Akhlaaq protested. 'You're like a cross between Tarzan and Aladdin. And all the girls want you to take them on an adventure.'

I had to pull out the old inhaler for this one. I had been laughing so hard there was no way I could manage without it. After getting my asthma under control, I shook my head in disbelief. 'You're funny man. May Allah bless you for cheering me up.' I reached over and hugged him.

'Of course, bro.' He said against me. 'You ready for the big boss to roll through today? What was his name again?'

'Henry Sacks. I'm pretty nervous, to be honest. But I've been repeating the duah of Musa (a.s) to calm my anxiety.' I explained. 'Rabbishrahli sadri wa yassir lee amri wahlul uqdatan min li saani yafqahu qawli.'

'Oh my Lord! Open my chest for me and make my task easy for me and make loose the knot from my tongue so that they understand my speech.' Akhlaaq translated with a smile. I was impressed. He was someone who had already possessed a lot of Islamic knowledge, but after marrying Muna, Akhlaaq seemed to have gained a lot more.

Just then, the door chimed open. There he was, standing in his crisp blue suit. He looked just like Google Images said he would. 'Hi, I'm Henry Sacks. I'm looking for Dawud Muhammad.'