' don't be tryin' to sell me any of them damn bean pies. '
patience beyond knowledge sustain our submission. can you be patient when the going gets tough? can you hold onto your integrity? allah is the best of knowers. it's part of the lessons the messenger teachers and it's what minister x made imperative to teach at the beginning of his. it's what a tender aged rashad x encapsulated in his way of life after three weeks of his Islamic procession. when the young man grew tired of being tired of a step family too tired from the wear of drugs and failing to have the cold heart he was suppose to have in streets, he came to the mission. he knew there to be one savior in the depths of hell called little mogadishu would give a damn to give him guidance.
when the minister had finished feeding the homeless, he spotted the skinny teen approaching him timidly. the man was a goliath compared to the boy. it was the most intimidating moment in his young life. it was seldom said the minister was a man larger than the life he breathes in little mogadishu. he now understood those beliefs to be a understatement. " hm, yes, little brother? " the minister had asked, as he motioned him to walk with him outside the mosque. best they both go for some fresh air. he sensed there was heaviness on child pharaoh's shoulders and there was.
the big man was patient with him, through the stammerings and stumbling of his tale and all. it was hard to read the minister's eyes when he was done. the transitional from his black horned-rimmed glasses reacted from the sunlight mid-story. his lens dark, his face hard, rashad peoples started to think he made a mistake. just when he was about to suck his teeth and leave, the minister's powerful voice froze him, " your mother was like one of our little sisters, here at the mission. I admired her big heart. her papa, king peoples, may allah be pleased with him. you probably didn't get to know the man, but he raised the god up in him and some of the other older brothers around here as well. "
josiah x planted his right hand on the speechless teen's shoulder. " if you believe you're ready to be an extension from the will of allah, I will do my part as your big brother and help mold you. " giving the small would-be soldier's shoulder a break and heavily palming his chest on the side his heart reside, he smiles at the break in gentle tears and the thank you expressed in the skeletal face. " i will not make it easy for you. the path to enlightenment never is. " after their conversation, rashad peoples was well on his way to becoming the poetry of the god he fell back on. he didn't expect it to be tested so soon.
standing in the doorway of the mosque was a man that radiated a quiet, unsettling violence. something about that was terribly off. harboring an aura that needn't be anywhere near the good minister, brother rashad looked up at the man with defiance. at the start of his journey he made personal promises to himself to not waver from islam. to be the lion his minister foreseen him as. but this man was putting all that proper propaganda he was fed on a fragile table. he couldn't stand a disrespectful nigga. " we don't use that type of language around here, brother
please be respectful of that. " is all he says.
" it's okay, brother rashad. I'll take it from here, " a familiar voice came from behind him. rashad looks over his shoulder and sees the towering figure of josiah x. it always surprised him how the minister moves with catlike grace and sneak up on him. he guessed that was just another part of his spirit father and guide natural mystique. he was so caught up in his world of thought that he missed the peculiar stare the minister had for their unknown visitor. only when the minister opens his mouth again to tell him, " well go on, young man. I didn't raise you up to be so villainous now. the streets are starving and you're teasing them, " did he remember the frightening guest.
" o-oh yeah. yes sir. right away sir, brother minister! e-excuse me brother, " rashad nervously recounted the bean pies in his two plastic bags, then brushed past the stranger when he satisfied with the number. he stared back at the hard-faced stranger and at his minister and prayed to allah that when he got back all will be well.
josiah x broke the few seconds of silence they jad when his newest protegee disappeared out of sight. " as-salaam alaikyum, dear brother erik. " the honorable elijah muhammad said we are not made to speak idol words. great words to come to understand and apply. he does so with erik. " I'd pat you down but I already know what I will find. if you're coming in, you know how my operation goes, beloved. "
he's sure erik has done his homework on him before coming here. the two weren't the type to play games when in familiar territory. their history together that was linked by blood. staring into his face was like staring into a mirror and seeing the soul of the past. a terrible past that saw just how gorilla a guerilla can go when in the thick of the jungle of inhabitable mind. josiah x was a new train of thought now. one that involved a relationship with god. he wonders what stops and how many erik took to get the mental destination he was at now.
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