They went back to the Tropicana and as Wendy had suggested, he won some of the money back.
But Kamal was not in the mood for company tonight. He handed two hundred dollars to Wendy and said, "I am tired, I am going to bed. Maybe we can meet next time I come to Atlantic City."
Wendy looked like she was going to cry, but she wrote her phone number on the back of a taxi receipt and gave it to Kamal.
"Please call me, I want to see you again" said Wendy gazing deeply into Kamal’s eyes.
Kamal went back to his room and changed into jeans and a dark jacket.
He went back to the other casino and purchased a carving set at the gift shop. Then he went into the bathroom there and threw everything into the trash except for the knife. He put this in his inside jacket pocket and went walking.
He walked slowly with his eyes searching the darkness.
Eventually, he spotted the man who had stolen his money earlier. He was on the other side of the street sitting on a bench in a bus shelter.
Kamal walked down a block then crossed over. He walked silently back to the bus shelter. When he was a pace behind his robber, he grabbed the knife out of his pocket. Without a word, he thrust the knife with all his might into the man’s right hand side. The lung was punctured and all the man could do was gasp with bulging eyes. Then Kamal took off his cap and stepped around so the man could see him in the moonlight.
"I will be the last face you ever see."
Kamal gazed into the man’s eyes until they just glazed over.
The more he looked at the face, the more he was not sure that he had killed the man who had attacked him earlier. Finally, he decided, it did not really matter. It felt good anyway.
He wiped the blade and handle with a tissue from his pocket and dropped the knife in a dumpster.
Kamal headed back to the hotel where he showered and dressed.
It was still only 10pm, so he decided to head back downstairs to again try his luck at the tables at the Tropicana.
Afterwards he called Wendy who was delighted to hear from him.
Chapter 17
The beginning of a new semester at M.I.T. was always heralded with anticipation. There were new subjects to learn and new professors to teach them.
Not all professors were the same, some were better than others. In fact regardless of the more liberal views of the faculty staff, there were a few who were bordering on being racist. There was even one that stepped over the line.
George Winters had been born and raised in a small town in Alabama. His father had been the Governor of the state when he was at school, and he led a very sheltered life. When he was old enough, he was shipped north east to school and stayed there ever since. His father wanted him to return to his home state and take up politics, but in truth, George loved the academic life. He had been teaching at M.I.T. for more than five years.
Professor Winters taught the course in Advanced Circuit Theory that Kamal was enrolled for this semester. This was one of the most difficult electives in the course, and the pass rate in this subject was quite low.
Whilst nothing was visible outwardly, George Winters loathed Muslims, Chinese, African Americans, and in fact anyone who was outside his narrow cultural window. For this semester anyway, Kamal was his whipping boy.
Kamal’s term paper that he submitted was good work. He spent a lot of time in the library and was confident that it was as good as he could get it.
George on the other hand did not feel quite the same way.
Kamal had made a small calculation error in determining voltages within a circuit loop. His reasoning and formula work were perfect, but he just made a small error with his calculator. Everything was perfect, except for the final answer. Other students had made similar errors and had passed with flying colors. Not so for Kamal who was graded with a fail.
Kamal was devastated. He had never failed a subject before and he knew he had a much better grasp of the subject than most of his fellow students who asked for his help with this subject. Yet they passed and he failed.
In desperation he went to see Professor Winters in his office to discuss his grade.
"What do you want Pashwari?" asked Winters coldly, not even asking him to sit.
"Sir, I wanted to discuss my term paper grade with you" suggested Kamal.
"There is nothing to discuss, it is trash. You are a moron and you failed. Now would be an excellent time to drop out of your course and head back home to your rich daddy."
It seemed that a wealthy father was the only thing that they shared in common.
"But sir, I made just a small calculation error. Everything else was correct. I checked the papers of some of my fellow students and some with much worse errors than mine received a passing grade."
"Bad luck camel jockey. Better luck next time. Don’t let the door hit you in the ass on the way out."
Kamal was dejected and went home with his hands thrust deeply in his pockets, quietly sobbing.
Chapter 18
Imam Hillali met Kamal after prayers had concluded.
"I can see you are troubled. What is wrong my young friend?"
"I fear that I may not be able to complete my course. I have a professor who hates Muslims and he failed me."
"Did you deserve to fail?" asked Hillali.
"No sir. I did good work. Others who made much worse mistakes on the term paper still passed. He called me a camel jockey and kicked me out."
"I see" said Hillali "It must be explained to him that this is no way to talk to a student. What is the name of your teacher?" demanded the Imam.
Reluctantly Kamal revealed "It is Professor Winters."
"I can make you no promises, but I will send someone to have a conversation with Professor Winters."
Two days later Kamal received a messy handwritten note from Professor Winters. It read:
Mr. Pashwari,
It seems that I may have made an error in the marking of your term paper.
I have advised the faculty of the mistake I made, and you will now receive an A for this subject.
Please accept my humble apology for my mistake and any inconvenience caused.
In addition, I wish to sincerely apologize for the racist remarks I used when you came to visit me in my office.
I am deeply sorry if I offended you in any way.
Professor George Winters
Professor Winters did not return to M.I.T. the next term. He went back to Alabama to recover from the shock of a severed thumb on his right hand.
Chapter 19
It was early in the morning, but Kamal was still awake. He had been studying hard for his final exams and it always took a while for him to finally fall asleep.
In fact he now hated sleep as he knew he would be confronted with the headless corpse of Geraldine tormenting him throughout dreamland.
The phone rang and Kamal grabbed it instantly "Hello."
It was his mother Thoraya who announced without preamble "You must come home. Your father has had an accident."
"What happened?" asked Kamal.
"He was hit by a car while he was walking across the street to a business meeting."
"Is he alright?" said Kamal starting to feel worried.