Читать книгу Holy Warrior Trojan Horses - Sheldon Cohen - Страница 11

Ben went back to his temporary residence. He calmly shaved, cut off his ponytail and got a short haircut. His life had a purpose. Everything he did now would be with that purpose in mind. How great it was that his father had sent him to this holy man with whom he had spent an entire year. He had learned what life meant. He had, by the grace of the Imam, learned that true happiness comes from serving humanity, and humanity was best served by making the world Islamic. True it would be a long struggle, but the result would be a paradise here on earth—an earth no longer held back by the infidels. This was now the purpose of his existence. Everything else he would do would be to prepare for the struggle.

He could do this now because he had learned to handle the darkness that sometimes took over his brain and clouded his consciousness. Now when he felt it obscuring his vision he knew how to change direction and force the darkness to dissipate, thus keeping his mind focused on the purpose.

When he felt the fire in his stomach that caused the hyperactivity and nervousness, he had learned how to extinguish it with the power of his mind alone.

When he saw and heard things that, he realized were not there, he knew how to return to reality.

Of great help to him in these tasks was mathematics. He had finished all of high school mathematics through calculus by the end of his sophomore year. He could have taken more through a local college, but he had chosen not to do so. Rather, he self learned from his father’s math texts that filled the library in their Madison home. He would try to study whenever he could, but the cloud and the fire that would return often prevented him from full concentration on this task—but no longer. Now that he had learned from the Imam how to control these beasts by study and concentration, he could keep his mind from straying from the most important task—Holy War. He knew when to concentrate on difficult math problems in order to prevent his mind from turning inward. This would never happen anymore thanks to the Imam. Dealing with these math problems dissipated the clouds and quenched the fire. They had become even easier to solve. A Trojan horse could never deviate from the task. It was too important. He knew what to do. He would not fail.

Ben’s father instantly recognized his son’s change. He could tell by the weekly letters and by the occasional phone call. And when he saw Ben in person stepping from the plane at O'Hare Field, he knew what his instinct had told him. His son had indeed changed. This had been a great year. The Imam had worked his magic.

Lois saw the same change in her son. She was overwhelmed. His ponytail was gone. His hair was combed and short. His face reflected a calmness and maturity that she had never seen before. It was as if another son had been born. How was it possible to change so? She prayed, hopeful for the best, but she could not eliminate the nagging fear that she felt.

Ben’s parents drove from O’Hare field back to Madison. Ben was silent and spoke only when his parents spoke to him. On the way home, Hari said, “You look good, Ben. I see calmness in your eyes. You are a changed man. Are you satisfied with your experience with the Imam?”

“I am, father. I understand what my problem was and now I know how to control it. I’m anxious to start school.”

“Have you decided on a major?” asked Hari as Lois listened with interest.

“Mathematics. I’ve learned how to use math to control my emotions, and my mind is clearer and much more focused.”

“That’s very good,” said Hari with a contented smile on his face. “How do you mean?”

“Math seems to level my brain and keep me on an even keel. It forces me to concentrate and it stabilizes my mood. It even can change me. Once I had a bad toothache, and it was late at night, so I put my attention to a LaPlace Transform problem and worked all night on it. The next thing I knew it was seven in the morning, and I realized that I had spent the whole night concentrating and did not feel pain.”

“What was wrong with your tooth?” asked Lois in alarm.

“The Imam had a dentist see me and he couldn’t find anything wrong, so he changed the filling in that tooth and it worked. I had no more pain.”

“Oh, that’s good,” said Lois.

“I’m not surprised to hear that,” said Hari. There is nothing that could absorb a mind like a tough math problem.”

They arrived at their Madison home. Ben stared at its opulence, a thought that had never entered his mind before he left for his yearlong session with the Imam. His home was in sharp contrast to the simple surroundings of his quarters in Pakistan. Living here with his mother and father had been the quintessential assimilation in the land of the infidel. The Imam would be pleased.

The Marzan home was a tri-level on a side street, built in the shape of a cube with a three-car garage adjacent to the left side of the house as you approached it from the front. You entered into a handsome foyer, and off to the left was a square shaped dining room. To the right was a rectangular shaped living room. Also on the main floor was a kitchen, dining area, bathroom and family room with a home entertainment center. Directly ahead was a winding staircase leading up to the second level where there were four bedrooms, two bathrooms and a study. The basement level they turned into a large recreation room with a library, family room furnishings and a three-cushioned billiard table. It was here that Hari had taught Ben geometry and trigonometry while studying billiard ball ricochets. Ben’s room was just the way he had left it. Lois had seen to that.

“Look in the garage,” said Hari.

To Ben’s surprise, there were three cars. “I can’t believe it. Is one for me?”

“Yes of course,” said Hari. “You’ll need your own transportation now to travel back home and visit your parents.”