Shrike & Mute!
SHRIKE: How different has your character become since the war?
May 5th, 1985.
A bead of sweat trickleddown Gabe’s forehead, the summer sun tanning his skin and the gentle breeze ofthe Georgia heat flowing through the soft curls on his head. He took amoment to lift his arms to the sky, letting the air coat his sweat-encasedframe as he soared. “Wake up, Ali!” yelled a teammate as he tossed Gabethe basketball. His buds around the neighborhood had unanimously decided tocall him Ali instead of Gabe, as it seemed less gentrified. Every day afterschool, they’d meet up at Simpson Street and shoot hoops. The upper class thathad invaded their city usually didn’t venture out this way, especially afterthe riots.
Juke jams and b-ball was their only break from the strugglesof daily life, and Gabe much preferred this to attending a stuffy mosque, orhanging with the rich white kids that had been given money by mommy and daddyto live in an ‘artsy’ and ‘hip’ urban neighborhood. Gabe’s family had lived in subsidized apartment buildings since they had immigratedto America to escape the tumultuous political climate of Egypt, and they’dbarely had enough to get by his entire life. It was a life from the past that embarrassedhim, a time they no longer discussed. The Khalils were used to being poor, justthe way Gabe was used to saving up whatever spare change he had to buy the nexttape that dropped, or sneak booze from whoever would sell it to him and hisfriends. They’d ride the MARTA after school and hustle to the pool halls, thecookouts, the block parties. Atlanta was on fire, but Gabe was the one burning,and what he and his friends lacked in money was made up with a lifetime ofmemories. He had seen the suffering of his fellow immigrants, as well as therejoicing of a people who were liberated. The world was within their grasp, andthese people who didn’t fit in anywhere else belonged with him. It inspired himto lead a life of helping others, and shaped him into the man he would become.
At twenty one yearsold, Gabe didn’t have much, though he did have his brain. A clever brain, atthat. After spending his summers flipping burgers at the Varsity, he was ableto submit a request for financial aid and get into the Medical College ofGeorgia. Though his parents were proud, it was nearly laughable to assume theycould afford to put him through school, unless he wanted years of student loanshanging over his head. It was through this experience that his father expressedthe value in joining the military. Free room and board, freehealth insurance, and he could go to college to study pre-med. So he applied tothe U.S. military, and decided to enlist in the Armed Forces. Four long years and a bachelor’s degreelater, Gabe was on his way to fulfilling his dreams.
* * *
“ATL got another thing comin’, man,” shouted a friend after their game, the old crew stillsharing joints behind the bleachers all these years later (except for Gabe, due to his military status.) “Squad’s back together,” crooned another friend. The court was illuminated by the sun, highlighting the nervous look on Gabe’s little sister’s face as he caught a glimpse of her running up with apiece of paper in hand. She looked to be in tears, as though it couldn’t wait. “Gabe!”she shouted, holding up the paper. He made his way outside the court, takingher in his arms. “What is it, Jazmin?” he asked in Arabic, glancing over her tomake sure she wasn’t hurt. She held the paper out to him, refusing to look intohis eyes. He took it into his hands, inspecting the text. “They want you in theU.N.” she said with a sad tone permeating her voice. “You’re going to that country with all the bombings ‘n’ shit.” He scanned the words on the paper. Deployment.
“What if I lose you?”she asked, peering up to him.
Gabe bent down onone knee, putting his hands on either side of her arms, shielding her from thedarkness of the world around them, the way he always did. “I love you. I’ll never leave you,” hepromised to his sister, taking her into his arms and rocking her from side toside as the tears fell from her eyes. They were silent for a few moments, theshock settling in. “I will always be with you.”
That was the first timehe made he a promise he couldn’t keep, and the first time he felt the earthmove as he contemplated what the future held.
His dream had cometrue, and nothing terrified him more.
MUTE: What moral codes does your character live by?
Gabriel’s moral code is to be defined in three very simple rules. Onlyharm others in the case of self-defense, help those who will help themselves andothers, and only take what others don’t need. Before trusting anyone, hismethods are extremely similar to Rick’s from The Walking Dead, as he wonders how many walkers a person has killed as opposed to how many people they’ve killed, and why. It’s a hard world out there, and although he is a forgiving person, he won’t excuse blatant murder, for any reason. Do no harm, but take no shit.
