"And Allah is the best of

"Oh Father! We are surrounded by
infidels! Why did we come here?" Ishmael whines again, this time
within his father’s hearing. Ishmael’s father gives the boy a meaty
smack upside the head, this causes the boy to see Djinn rapidly dance
around him.

"We have come to conquer these
unbelievers. They need to be taught the True Path!" Marid bin
Hussein al-Tikrit screams in the empty prayer room of their house.

Ishmael sees his vision start to clear
with fewer Djinn hovering around him. "Yes Father but their
clothes, it is sinful how the women dress. It gives me weird
feelings and my nose bleeds."

"Yes, it leads many true followers
astray. There must be an answer. Let us pray and meditate. Allah
will guide us to that answer."

Obedient to his father’s commands,
Ishmael kneels on a rug oriented towards far off Mecca. His father
starts the prayer and Ishmael closes his eyes to listen more closely
since Ishmael’s grasp of Arabic is fading, yes he recited a passage
from the Qu’ran last year but the infidel’s English is replacing that
knowledge of the sacred language quickly. Just as all the obscene
picture books his classmates avidly read, the women in them are even
worse the boy thinks.

"The infidels are fiendish in how
they lure the faithful away."

Ishmael stiffens and opens his eyes to
peek a look at his father, but he still has his forehead firmly
pressed to the prayer mat with eyes closed. The child furtively
looks around but no one else is in the room. Then his eyes halt, one
of the Djinn is still there and the tiny human face has a sinister

The tiny flying figure puts a finger to
his lips, yes Ishmael thinks the Djinn is male. Female Djinn are
haram just as indecently clothed women are Ishmael thinks as he
hastily banishes Princess Jasmine from his mind. The little figure
smirks. "Oh little one, you have much to learn of Djinn and the
world." The voice is inside his head and Ishmael worries about
possession and silently prays, "Oh Allah the merciful, protect your

"Hush child, I am not here to possess
you. I want to help you."

Ishmael glances at his father, but the
man is still fervently praying aloud calling upon the infidels all
kinds of destruction. He wonders why the Djinn is talking to him and
not his father. Again he hears a voice in his head. "I heard your
prayer, named for Abram’s first son. Not his."

Ishmael is amazed, one of Allah’s Djinn
servants heard his prayer. His father was right, praying over the
problem had provided the answer. The heart in his chest swells in
pride at how virtuous he must be to be granted such a boon. Then he
gets serious, what should he do with this blessing? Unbidden, from
the depths of his mind comes an image that strangely makes his body
stir in uncomfortable ways. Yes Allah be praised that will be it!

"Done little one! Your prayer is

Ishmael is shocked, wait what does the
Djinn mean? Now he is confused and worried.

"Little man, listen close. By
pointing your finger and commanding it, the sinful shall be clothed
as you imagined."

The idea of striking such a blow
thrills Ishmael more than anything else he has experienced in his
short life. He can’t wait to tell his father of this marvelous gift.

"No Ishmael, this is your own jihad.
Not to be shared with others. Or misused by them. Tell no one. And
you will be rewarded for not listening to your pride."

Ishmael is ashamed, it would be
prideful to boast of this new power before it is even used. What if
Allah takes it away when he tries to show off? No the Djinn is
right, best in secret. And then the Djinn vanishes from Ishmael’s
sight without a sound as his father finishes praying.

"My son, did praying help you?"

"Yes Father, Allah is great."

Marid smiles broadly and gives his son
a hug. "Yes, Allah is great. Now lets go see what your mother has


Later that night, Ishmael is awakened
from his dreams. Happy dreams of shooting all those infidel harlots
at his school and hearing them scream in shock. He hears a sound and
wonders what is going on. Is someone trying to rob them? He slips
out of bed and pads to his bedroom door to listen.


Ishmael rolls his eyes and tries to
contain his anger, it is his older sister Fatima. Figures he thinks,
she has stayed out against their father’s rules. Quietly he opens
his door to peer out, without any thought of why except he is curious
to see if Fatima will be caught and face the wrath of their father.
He absently rubs the spot on his head where he had been clouted by
his father, it is still sore.

In the dim light of the hallway he sees
his sister and stifles a curse, she is dressed like an infidel
harlot, showing far too much leg and he blushes as he sees her
breasts jiggle. Ishmael starts to feel strange and then angry at
his sister for bringing so much shame on them.

Then inspiration strikes Ishmael like a
lightning bolt. Why not start with Fatima. She needs to be taught a
lesson. Better a lesson from him than their father, again he winces
remembering the pain from today. So he extends his hand with index
finger straight and points at his sister, in the name of Allah, to be

He is shocked to see a pink beam leap
from his fingertip, a pink that sparkles and glows in the dim light.
He feels a thrill at the proof of the Djinn’s words. That thrill
turns to horror as the Djinn’s voice now thunders in his head.
"Foolish little man! Usurping your father’s authority in his own
house! She is his to punish, not you! Now feel your own punishment,
a punishment you thought of!"

Fire lances through Ishmael’s body and
he collapses to the floor with a thump. His muscles spasm and it
seems his whole body is melting and changing as electricity arcs
through his nervous system.. He lets out a yowl of pain as it keeps

"In Allah’s name, what is this she
demon doing in my son’s room!!!!!" Marid bin Hussein al-Tikrit
thunders and Ishmael finally starts to think again as the pain starts
to recede. What she demon he wonders?

He starts to roll over only to feel a
foot kick him hard in the side just below the rib-cage, causing the
pain to erupt again and Ishmael to double over as another yowl
escapes his lips. Ishmael’s eyes snap open and the whole room seems
brightly lit even if everything seems grayish. Then he sees his
father looming over him like a monster with a foot raised to strike

Strange instincts kick in for Ishmael.
He leaps away with another yowl to land on his still warm bed, on all
fours and it feels like his butt is moving. A glance makes him
shiver in horror, a long sinuous cat tail is what he feels moving.

"Be gone foul creature! In Allah’s name return my
son!" He sees Marid run towards the bed and all Ishmael can think
of is to flee. With the jingling of a bell and reckless of any
consequences, Ishmael literally turns tail and leaps through his
bedroom window and into the night. All the time Ishmael is yowling in terror while yelling in his mind, "I am Ishmael!"