Like Wise. A Story. Part 12.

There are many ways to end a story. 

We could say...

Billy was so surprised that a Muslim saved his life, he stopped being a racist. 
Moses regretted not helping and became a different kind of pastor. 
Moses finally reconciled with his son. 
Saul realized he had some issues and sough real ways to help people. 
Wise was finally able to forgive his son's killers without the need for revenge. 
After Billy thanked him for saving him. 

We could go on and on. 

But none of those are the way the story ends, and often not the ways the stories do end. 

Instead, it only ends with some questions. 

Who is my neighbor? 
Wise, Billy, Saul, and Moses are your neighbor. 

Who of these seemed to act like a neighbor?
He who showed mercy.

Then Jesus said to him, "Go and do likewise."

Like Wise. A Story. Part 11.

Wise recalls the incident well. Maybe better than anyone. In fact, he says he'll never forget some of the details. 

He saw someone running and it struck him as odd. The man looked suspicious, running out of an alley. It was more of a walk but the walk was only to hide the run. 

Wise made his way into the alley from which the man had come and fairly quickly saw the body. He quickly ran over to him and noticed the blood that had connected on the broken concrete, the swollen face, the pale skin, and the very shallow breathing. He quickly checked for a pulse and saw that he was alive. 

The blood had camouflaged the U.S. ARMY words and logo but when Wise saw them his breath left his chest. He then recognized the hair cut - he had seen it many times. And the chain of a dog tag around his neck - he had seen that too. 

He noticed a tattoo on his forearm. It was a symbol he knew well. He had seen it in paraphernalia and on helicopters. 

Everything in him wanted to walk away but he couldn't. He saw his son lying on similar broken and bloodied concrete for a moment but this man was still alive. He felt for a pulse again. 

And he lifted Billy up, put him over his shoulder and carried him out of the alley and onto the street looking for something. He saw a blue "H" with an arrow pointing toward a hill and he carried Billy as fast as he could toward wherever the signs pointed him. 

Billy doesn't remember any of it.

Later doctors told him that an Arabic looking man - with his head covered - had walked into the emergency room carrying Billy and crying out for help. He had told them everything he knew about his condition and pleaded with them to take him immediately as he knew he was dying. He had offered to pay for anything the hospital needed but he asked them to make sure he lived. 

Billy doesn't remember any of it. 

And doesn't really believe it. 

Like Wise. A Story. Part 10.

That someone was Saul. He would say later that he was pretty drunk and maybe even a little high but still... he walked right up to Billy. 

The irony was thick. Billy had seen pictures of Saul on numerous bases around the world. He was known as not only a supporter of the troops but an advocate. He tried to smile but his mouth wouldn't let him. 

Saul wouldn't have cared anyway. He took one look at blood and bruises and, obvious, broken bones and turned away quickly. He did take a second look at the U.S. ARMY shirt but decided that it was better for his image not to be associated with this than to be associated with it. 

He wasn't even supposed to be out. Alone. In this city. 

"You'll be alright," he mumbled. "I'll get you some help quick." Saul ran away. 

At that time Moses was calling 911. 

The 911 operator was a little confused as to whether or not Moses was with the man, and if not how he knew what kind of shape he was in, but Moses quickly hung up. 

At least he had called. Saul ran back to the hotel room as fast as he could without looking suspicious. 

Billy stared at a street light. He couldn't focus on it but he knew it would be the last light he would ever see. He tried to keep his eyes open but he couldn't help. Darkness suffocated the light - as it did his hope to live. 

Like Wise. A Story. Part 9.

That car belonged to Moses. There were red and blue lights filling the intersection ahead and he decided to avoid the roadblock by taking another street. 

The street was an alley but he figured it would still save him the delay. Which is funny, because he was going nowhere and there was no time he had to get to nowhere but, still, we never like delays. 

He eventually saw the body. It was soaked in blood and, at first, he assumed dead. 

Moses slowed down enough to see the U.S. ARMY shirt, the khaki jeans and the boots. He could see the short hair cut and he could see the clean-shaven face, where there wasn't blood. He could see the chest moving in and out. 

"God help us," he muttered, while trying to decide if he would help God. 

"God help him," he said, obviously deciding God could handle it. 

"And help our nation to see its depravity." 

Moses didn't know that his son had done the damage he was looking at. He didn't know that he himself had done much of the damage to his son. 

Would any of that had mattered? Maybe. Maybe not. 

Either way, Billy tried to moan something but he couldn't. 

He watched the car leave him behind and decided he only had a few more breaths to go. 

Until he heard "What the hell?" and they were some of the best words he had ever heard. Someone else had seen him. 

Like Wise. A Story. Part 8.

It didn't take long. 

It started with some words being thrown back and forth. It ended with fists being thrown back and forth. 

Billy, despite being able to think too clearly, tried to calm things down. Yes, he was a racist but he was also a racist that had been accustomed to following certain rules that helped him to keep a job he loved and to help him stay alive. His Uncle, however, was not as used to following those same rules. In fact, as is often the case with the people we hate the most, it was rare for him to actually see a black man, let alone have a chance to hurt one. 

He took advantage of his opportunity, unfortunately. 

It was a mess and there is no reason to go into all the details here but suffice it to say there were broken bones amidst the broken souls. 

By the end, Dwayne managed to escape, along with his friends. Barely. But not before unloading a heap of damage on a few people, including Billy. 

In fact, Billy, despite being the one who least wanted to fight, bore the brunt of everyone else's anger and rage and lust for violence. 

Billy's Uncle ran. As did most everyone else when the police showed up. 

Unfortunately, Billy could not run. Unfortunately, Billy was not in the bar anymore. Dwayne had taken Billy outside and unloaded on him. Billy had landed a few good punches but one-on-one there was no contest. 

Billy was dying. Alone. In a back alley by a dumpster. The police gave the alley a glance but they didn't seem him. There was too much going on in the bar with names and statements and paperwork. 

Billy doesn't remember much. He remembers more pain than he had ever felt. He remembers loneliness and betrayal by a family member he thought cared about him. 

He remembers believing there was nothing that would save him. His life was flashing before his eyes. The good moments and the bad. The painful and the joyful. Unfortunately, Billy's life was ending the way most of it had been, which made him feel only more pain.

Life had not been a good one. He was not angry but he wished it had been different. 

And then he remember a car. 

Like Wise. A Story. Part 7.

No one really remembers the time. Everyone would say it was late. 

It was the kind of late that your parents talk about when they say "nothing good happens after..." the time can change but the meaning doesn't. There is a time in the night when there is nothing good that will happen. It's got nothing to do with numbers on a clock but it's real and we all know it. 

Saul was in a hotel room with a woman. He needed a cigarette, a drink, and some fresh air. He didn't especially enjoy the city he was staying in but he left the room and started walking on the streets, anyway. It was something he wasn't supposed to do and something he liked to do anyway. There were not many chances to rebel anymore. 

Moses was in a car. He was never in a car at that kind of hour but he was struggling. He had just preached a sermon that had gone well, and he had just preached to his son, and that had not. It never did. He needed time. He was listening to talk radio and driving.... anywhere and nowhere. 

Wise had finished the phone conversation he had been waiting for and thrown away the cell phone that he had used to speak on. It was his last night on Earth, if everything went according to plan. As such, he could hardly sit in his bed and sleep. He too found himself walking aimlessly, not too aimlessly as though would draw attention and he didn't want any attention at that moment. Neither did Allah. 

Billy was drunk. He says he doesn't remember much of the evening. There were lots of shots, lots of racist jokes and lots of stories of being in the Army. He does remember something very specifically. 

Three black men walked into the bar he was in. Instantly, everyone looked toward the men and instantly the men, one of whom happened to be the son of Moses, looked back toward them. Dwayne was already in a bad mood and the site of racists (instantly identified as such by their shirts) didn't help his bad mood. He was also a fighter. So were his friends. 

Nothing good happens at that hour. And nothing good was about to happen. 

Like. Wise. A Story. Part 6.

Wise found himself eating takeout in a hotel room. For security reasons he was not to leave. So he watched some bad television while he waited for a phone call. The phone call. He also studied a picture of his family and wondered how they were and how they would be. 

Saul found himself in a very nice restaurant with an attractive server whom he planned on sleeping with later in the night. He made that very clear as he ordered another bottle of wine. She seemed flattered and he didn't really notice. He did complain about the temperature of the vegetables. 

Billy found himself in a local bar. It was a favorite of his Uncle's. Billy wore a "US ARMY" shirt and he was treated as a celebrity. Many drinks were purchased and consumed by the all white crowd of men, while televisions blared some of the same bad television that Wise watched alone. 

Moses found himself in a local restaurant. Not as nice as the place Saul was, but expensive enough that it put him in a bad mood. Gluttony. His son, Dwayne, had recommended the place and so he had obliged. The conversation was awkward as it alway was but they were both used to that. And by the time Dwayne threw down his plate and stormed out of the restaurant, well, Moses had lasted about 30 seconds longer than the last meal they had shared together. But, as always, once sodomy and fornication and wrath were thrown around, Dwayne left, leaving Moses angry and upset at his son again. Another chance at restoration was over. 

Another was coming. 

Like Wise. A Story. Part 5.

Wise, Billy, Saul, and Moses were all in the same city. 

The city doesn't matter. What matters is why each of the men was there. 

Wise was there to plan a terrorist attack with an American cell. 

Billy was there to visit his Uncle Ray. Uncle Ray is a card-carrying white supremacist. 

Saul was there to celebrate the opening of a new gym and to get on the news to help get the word out about his foundation. 

Moses was there to speak at a local church and to try to renew some kind of relationship with his estranged son by meeting him at a restaurant afterward. 

Wise was there to destroy. 
Billy was there to get away. 
Saul was there to promote. 
Moses was there to restore. 

None of them knew their paths were about to cross. 

Like Wise. A Story. Part 4.

This is a story about my neighbor. Not Wise, but another neighbor. Not Billy, but another neighbor. Not Saul, but another neighbor. 

This is a story about Moses. Moses is not like Wise or Billy or Saul. 

Moses is an African-American pastor who was born in Chicago, Illinois. He had a pretty rough childhood which he often talks about in his sermons. He was in gang and he did some terrible things to people but that was before he "found God". 

Everything changed when that happened. 

Moses is not like Wise. Moses' son is still alive - even if he doesn't have a relationship with him because he doesn't approve of his "hedonistic lifestyle". Moses is not like Billy, although both men did grow up without any kind of healthy father-figure and they both, when honest, admit that reality hurts them to this day. Even so, Moses would find Billy to be a reprobate because of his lifestyle and Billy would see Moses as barely human because of his skin color.  Moses is not like Saul. Saul tends to sleep around with as many women as his wealth and travel schedule allow. Moses' wife passed away about 10 years ago and the idea of ever remarrying, let alone sleeping with someone, is a terrible "sin" in his eyes. 

Moses like to preach. So does Wise, but in a different way. So does Billy and so does Saul. They all believe very strongly about what they preach and they all think very little of each other. And they preach that too. 

All of them are scared the world is going to hell in a hand basket but for very different reasons. 

Wise thinks people like Billy, Saul and Moses are the major problem. 
Billy thinks people like Wise, Saul, and Moses are the major problem. 
Saul thinks people like Wise and Moses are the major problem (and Billy - but he can't admit that publicly as it might hurt his image a bit). 
Moses thinks people like Wise, Saul and Billy are the major problem. Lord come quickly. 

This is a story about all of them. 

Like. Wise. A Story. Part 3.

This is a story about my neighbor. Not Wise, but another neighbor. Not Billy, but another neighbor. 

This is a story about Saul. Saul is not like Wise or Billy. 

Saul is very wealthy. I don't know how much money Saul has but I assume he has enough to spend as much as he wants on anything he wants at anytime. He doesn't worry about money. 

Wise and Billy do not have a lot of money. In fact, both of them work paycheck to paycheck. 

They say money doesn't make someone happy. I believe that. But I do think that having a private jet, a house in Nice, in Maui, in Los Angeles and in New York City would be nice. I also think that being able to see anyplace in the world whenever you want would be nice. 

But Saul isn't that nice, which I assume, means he's not that happy. Happy people are usually pretty nice people. He's rich, but he's not nice. 

Saul did start a foundation with his money about 12 years ago. The foundation was called Saul's Guns and it was dedicated to helping out our vets and active service men and women. Saul likes to work out. He's big and buff and handsome and, in addition to having lots of money, has all the things that people are supposed to be on the outside to measure success. 

So, he started a foundation that would provide free gym memberships for service personnel. He traveled around the world to tell people how much he cared for the troops - and to tell the troops themselves at different bases. He's seen a lot of the world. 

Saul is not like Wise. Both of his parents are still alive. Saul is not like Wise. He is not married and doesn't have kids. Saul is not like Billy. He's not racist. In fact, Saul is a Jew and Jews are some of the other people that Billy and his Uncle and his dad would not be too happy with. 

To recap where we are so far...

Wise is the enemy. Billy is the hero. Saul is a hero for supporting the heroes. 
Wise lost his son. Billy lost his childhood. Saul lost what it means to be happy. 

Like Wise. A Story. Part 2.

This is a story about my neighbor. Not Wise, but another neighbor. 

This is a story about Billy. Billy is not like Wise. 

Wise has a wife and a daughter. He is a devout Muslim. Wise lost a child at the age of 3 and says he also lost a piece of himself that day. 

Billy grew up in rural East Texas. Billy's father was, and is, a racist. Billy was too, although he's now more aware of the perceptions he grew up with and the caustic and destructive effects they have on himself and on others. 

But 12 years ago, Billy was not aware of them. He was aware of the alcoholism of his father and the way he would beat his mom on a semi-regular occurrence. Billy's father also regularly beat "niggers". 

I cringe every time Billy uses the word. I cringe typing it. I almost didn't. But it helps to describe Billy and Billy's father who use the word in a very offensive nature. It's meant to offend and it's meant as an attack. It's a missile meant to hurt. That's who Billy was. 

Billy's father was put in jail once for almost killing a black man but that was just the time he was caught and the local sheriff felt like he had to do something about it. Billy and his father used every racial slur on the planet that you can imagine, and I won't continue to be as offensive as they are and repeat them here. But you know the ones. 

I suppose Wise has bit of racist tendencies as well, although they would be pretty close to the opposite of Billy's. Wise tended to think people like Billy were the devil and Billy tended to think people like Wise - along with many others - were the devil. 

Regardless, Billy is not like Wise. Wise would have been considered by most to be a terrorist 12 years ago. 

Billy, on the other hand, would have been considered, by most, to be a hero. Billy flew the Apache AH-64 helicopter for the U.S. Army and he flew numerous missions in Iraq, where he launched numerous missiles and bombs into the "towel-heads". Those were the literal missiles, more deadly perhaps than the verbal and definitely more accepted. 

It was one such missile, not from Billy, that killed the son of Wise when he was 3 years old. Wise still carries a picture of that boy everywhere he goes so that he won't ever forget his son who would be almost 17 now. 

But 12 years ago, Wise carried it for a slightly different reason. He carried it to remember his single mission in life: revenge. 

Like Wise. A Story. Part 1.

This is a new little section of the blog. A story. Told over multiple parts. Enjoy. 

--

This is a story about my neighbor.

Well, he's not literally my neighbor - that would be Scott. Scott was shot by his kid, accidentally, while on a hunting trip and still has loads of spherical pellets lodged in his back from the shotgun his son used. It's a story but this story is not that story. 

This is about my other neighbor. 

Well, my other literal neighbor is Dane. Dane grew up in Catholic Schools and was beat by Nuns (its unoriginality doesn't make it less painful) so often and told that he sucked so frequently that I don't think Dane will ever step foot in a church, cathedral, temple, or holy building again. He's one of the nicest guys you will ever meet but he's not a church guy. I'm not sure that's a problem. I take that back - Dane did step foot into a church for the funeral of my other neighbor who died of breast cancer. Dane and his wife were at her house constantly leading up to her death, maybe the only people taking care of her. That's a story too, but this story is not that story either. 

This is a story about Wise. I don't think his name is really Wise but that's what he has gone by ever since I met him. Wise was born in Fallujah. The first time I met him he had just arrived to America as a refugee from Iraq. This was not his first time in America, but we'll get to that. 

It was his first time in America that he was not coming to America to attempt to destroy some of the people who live here. But we'll get there as well. 

For now, know this. Wise is my friend. Now. And Wise has a story. 

It starts about 12 years ago when al-Qaeda was the enemy and no one had heard of ISIS. I doubt you had heard of Jama'at al-Tawhid wal-Jihad either. I know I hadn't. But that's the group that Wise was doing "work" for.