The Muslim kid was a nice guy and was known around the neighborhood as a good Muslim vs. the Islamic Radical Jihadists that murder people around the world. Since the Paris France Islamic Radical Jihadist attacks the people inside the United States have doubled checked their neighbors and some guess that one eye is on every Mosque in America.
"The F.B.I. cannot catch you" was all that Cecile said to his friend Muhammed the nice Muslim guy in the neighborhood with his swimming bag sitting on his lap.
Muhammed had bought his brand new yellow swimming bag just yesterday as he grabbed it up securely with one hand and rubbed his eyes with his other hand and stood up.
Something rattled just a little inside the swimming bag and Muhammed just smiled at Cecile and said it sounded like loose change crashing around.
Muhammed waved goodbye as some birds flitted away and Muhammed set off down Morningside Road that would lead him past a row of shops stilled closed this early in the morning. At times Muhammed would become fearful as cars would pass by him and seemingly stare at him and his darker skin walking the streets this early.
Morningside Road was the home of the Islamic Mosque that was famous around the Muslim world inside America. As Muhammed approached the Mosque road he noticed the homeless man with the bandaged face and his upturned baseball cap waiting for coins.
Muhammed stopped to talk to the homeless man and in his Muslim way asked the man for his beggar's blessing as he tossed a few coins from his yellow swimming bag into the waiting baseball cap.
Muhammed noticed the homeless man was just another American mongrel so he stepped away after tossing his coins. In all honesty Muhammed rather feed a cat then feed any citizen of the United States so he thrust his hand into his pocket and suggested that the America beggar go fu.k himself.
Nothing would cure the grief that Muhammed held in his heart except the bomb exploding that he held securely inside his swimming bag. His eyes blurred with tears as he thought of his parents being murdered by the Russians in Syria but he would have his revenge.
He was never much of a storyteller so he had left a note with Cecile to give to his foster parents so their mourning would have some meaning. He wanted to leave the note beside his bed but he didn't want the F.B.I. reading this thoughts and prayers for Allah.
Nothing would cure his grief except dead Americans.
As he entered the swimming area of the high school he reached inside his bomb kit hidden inside his swimming bag. The swimming area was full of people and everybody was in swimming suits and a few were wearing yellow goggles that matched his bag. He flipped the bombs timer switch and immediately felt the sweep of Allah through his body, making him stronger as every human sound brought him excitement.
The beggar outside caught a flash of yellow.
Everything outside turned dark after the flash of the yellow bright light.
There were no shadows, just death.
No one attended the beggar laying outside on the sidewalk with his body wasted and pale in pain as a large portion of the high school had been destroyed.
The beggar knew that Christ was dead, not angles or thieves would even bend down to help him stop the bleeding,
The beggar knew that the sidewalk was his cot before his coffin so he lay there in the morning sun as mother's closed their eyes and police units arrived, flushed and wrinkled bodies were removed, all perished, all swelling in death as he remained very still in almost his lifeless form waiting for the stillness of his coffin.