Different destinies

Fatima bin Laden, nervous after her landlord Mrs. Lop Chong's warning about gropers on TheBus, was grateful when her new friend Jennifer Hira called on Fatima's third morning in America and offered to give her a ride to school for the astronomy class they were in.

Jen, in her red VW, came by early so they could stop at Starbucks. Jen was excited, she'd just gotten her daughter Jesse into a good preschool, plus she was going to see the handsome young Marine Joe Matsuo in their class.

"How about his friend?" Jen said. "I could tell he had eyes for you."

"How can you tell?"

"You really are innocent, aren't you?"

"My parents were very strict when it came to boys. But actually, we're in the same journalism study group, and we're meeting at noon. His name is Basel."

After the astronomy class, Joe asked Jen if she had time for lunch, and off they went. Fatima hurried to the library, where she saw Lt. Basel Zakly Faris, USMC, at a corner table with two newspapers spread out before him. He was alone, so she lingered by the periodicals waiting for their study partner Sandy Yamada.

Out of the corner of his eye, Baz saw Fatima waiting and in his heart rejoiced that she seemed such a proper Muslim girl. American females, he'd discovered, had no qualms about being alone with men. But that's not the kind of girl he was looking for.

The clock on the wall said it was 12:03 when they finally made eye contact, smiled tentatively. He rose, slowly walked to the periodicals.

"Without Sandy, you're afraid to study with me?" he whispered.

"I ... I'm shy."

"Such modesty -- you could almost be a Muslim," he said, almost but not quite teasing. "Where is your veil?"

She blushed.

"But you must know that I will not harm you. I'm a Marine. I will protect you and honor you."

For the first time her eye contact with him lingered. "And you sound as if you would make a good Muslim husband. Where is your kaffiyeh?"

Baz looked around, made certain no one was listening.

"Assalamualaikum," he said softly. Peace be upon you.

"Waalaikumsalam," she replied. Peace be upon you too.

"Qadar," he said. It is destiny. "Perhaps here, under the eye of the librarian, we might study together and please Allah the most merciful, praise his name, with our learning."

"Qadar," she said, averting her eyes as her soul sang.

They sat at opposite sides of the table, seeing quite opposite destinies.