Disastrous September – A Novel on 9/11 Terrorist Attacks Part-12

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Front Cover Disastrous September

In memory of the 2981 victims of the September 11, 2001 terrorist attacks on the World Trade Center, among them three Albanians

[Disastrous September, by the Albanian-American author, Skifter Këlliçi, takes place on two different days: May 10 and September 11, 2001. The novel tells the story of a well-known CNN reporter named Steve Ferguson, engaged to Jacqueline Cramer, a flight attendant based at Logan International Airport in Boston, Massachusetts. In addition, the novel explores the lives of four Albanians. Besim Istrefi, Rrok Camaj, and Marko Muzaka worked as window washers in the Twin Towers. Sokol Kama, a journalist and writer, works in security at Logan International Airport. On September 11, 2001 just a few days before Steve and Jacqueline’s wedding, two planes, bound for Los Angeles, depart from Boston. Terrorists hijack them and crash them into the Twin Towers in New York. The author, who worked at Logan International Airport during the attacks, offers a gripping account of the tragedy and shows how it could have been avoided.]

By SKIFTER KELLICI

[Translated from the Albanian by Carrie Hooper]

Muhammad, facing the old couple, said, “Drinking is against our religion, but I think we should raise a toast. As a matter of fact, we have a bottle of wine which was supposed to be a gift for our friend in LA.”

Muhammad took a wine bottle out of his bag.

“We have enough refreshments for everyone,” said Jacqueline.

Then, she stared at Muhammad and wondered if they had met at security.

“Yes, I remember, you were delayed for a while because you had a small knife.”

“Why did she have to say that?” thought Muhammad. “Will she scream for help because I have a knife and am attacking her?”

He clutched the knife in his pocket as he looked at Jacqueline. She continued to look at him and smiled.

“My friend was wrong,” she said. “I assured him you can’t cut anything with that kind of knife except, maybe a small bird.”

“I appreciate you telling him that, Ma’am. For a second there, I thought I would miss my flight. He insisted the knife was sharp.”

“He did indeed, but you can’t blame him. Times have changed.

He was just doing his job.”

“I wish he was on the plane with us,” thought Muhammad. “Then, he’d see what I’m capable of.”

Jacqueline went to economy, where Emma and the other flight attendants were. Suddenly, everyone started clapping, and Emma shouted, “Here comes the bride!”

Passengers congratulated Jacqueline.

“All the best to you and Steve!” said Emma.

Jacqueline winked at her. She couldn’t wait to call Steve and tell him everything.

Meanwhile, the man in first class was trying to open a wine bottle George had given him.

“George, you heard the flight attendant. There’s enough wine for everyone,” said Amanda.

“She’s right. Let’s wait for the flight attendants to serve us wine,” said the man, putting the bottle back in his bag.

George did the same even though he couldn’t wait to have a glass.

“Hopefully, you’ll find a cure for that awful disease, which kills hundreds and thousands of people,” said Amanda.

“That would be nice,” said the doctor, “but people need to quit smoking, too.” “That’s right,” said George. “I’m glad I did.”

“You quit smoking, but you drink wine,” said Amanda.

“So what? Did anyone die from drinking wine?” said George, looking at the doctor.

“No,” he said. “As a matter of fact, people have come back to life after drinking wine.”

Everyone laughed. Muhammad and his cohorts, though nervous, laughed, too.

“Laugh as much as you can. You are cursed infidels. Soon you’ll be crying for help,” Muhammad thought.

6a184c119a664b13b4c24e731d60d5fc_landscape_12First class became quiet. People read, slept, watched a movie, or sipped drinks. Muhammad noticed Abdul’s unease. He told him to stay calm and think about how fortunate they were to have met bin Laden. Abdul forced a smile. Although he was pretty sure none of the other passengers spoke or understood Arabic, he made certain no one was looking at him.

“You and Vail should rejoice with the rest of our brothers for soon we will be in heaven, right, Satem?”

Satem, who sat to the right of Muhammad, flashed his eyes at him.

“I’m ready to keep the promise we gave to Allah,” said Satem.

He thought of an old professor at the Royal University of Rabat who used to say softly, “A judge has one mother, one father and one family who are holy, but justice and Allah’s teachings are even holier. Allah teaches us to fight the infidels who will never see heaven’s gates.”

That night, we learned about our next mission, not from bin Laden, but from a man to his right with a long beard, Khalid Sheikh Muhammad, bin Laden’s best friend, whose look seemed to penetrate our souls, and who seemed to want to hear our heartbeats

“Heaven?” thought Abdul. “If my wife, whom I haven’t seen in over two years, and my two-year-old son, whom I’ve never met, don’t go to heaven, what’s the point? I didn’t consider that when I met bin Laden, the world’s most faithful Muslim, the leader of al Qaeda, who is fighting the infidels. He called us faithful, too, when we trained in the secret military camps in Afghanistan. One cold night, he called for us.  No one, not even our group, could know his whereabouts. Therefore, our escort blindfolded us. We walked through the mountains and entered a creepy-looking cave, lit by torches. We met bin Laden himself. He was dressed in white, and his long beard had some gray hairs. He looked like a noble reincarnation of Muhammad. We stood before the man who had given up his career as an engineer to fight the Mujahideen. When he fought the Russians, he even gave up his wealth to support Islam’s war against Christianity. We kneeled before him and kissed his hand with respect. His beautiful voice commanded us to fight soldiers and civilians throughout the world. We had already killed many civilians in Nairobi, Dar el Salam, and other places.

Before bin Laden had finished speaking, we knelt before him and kissed his feet. How could we not accept this mission, great bin Laden? said Marvan.

“That night, we learned about our next mission, not from bin Laden, but from a man to his right with a long beard, Khalid Sheikh Muhammad, bin Laden’s best friend, whose look seemed to penetrate our souls, and who seemed to want to hear our heartbeats. He told us we would not be killing Americans, Europeans, or other peoples with weapons, as we had done previously. We weren’t going to kill them on streets, trains, or buses. We weren’t going to kill nonbelieving Muslims like the ones I killed in Kandahar who fought the Taliban. We weren’t going to set off bombs or hijack planes and hold passengers hostage in exchange for the release of imprisoned Muslim brothers. With each word, Khalid’s voice grew more intense like the wind before a storm. You are going to sacrifice your lives, said bin Laden. You and other passengers will die together. You will learn to fly planes and will crash them into the two tallest buildings in New York, the pride of America. It’ll be glorious. The buildings will burn and collapse, burying many people. This is your mission. Do you accept it? Are you, my brothers, willing to sacrifice your lives?

“Bin Laden’s and Khalid Sheikh Muhammad’s eyes bore into us. I thought about the Imam who preached about the Koran in the village where I was born and raised. He used to say those who were faithful to Allah and did good in this world would be rewarded in the next. Before bin Laden had finished speaking, we knelt before him and kissed his feet. How could we not accept this mission, great bin Laden? said Marvan. This is a faithful Muslim’s greatest privilege, said Muhammad. Very well, said bin Laden as he patted our heads.

“That was two years ago. Now we’re here, about to embark on our holy mission. Will we really go to heaven?”

Vail and Rashid looked like bearded twins. They waited impatiently for Muhammad’s call to tell them their mission had begun. They recalled their days in the cold and mud, learning how to survive in the camps near the Pakistani border, and they remembered bin Laden’s preaching:

“On Judgment Day, you will be held accountable for your deeds in this life. The greater your deeds, the greater your reward will be. The Almighty Allah will reward this, your greatest deed. (Continues)

Click here for Part-1Part-2Part-3Part-4Part-5Part-6Part-7Part-8Part-9Part-10, Part-11,

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About the Author

Skifter Kellici -Albanian-American writerSkifter Këllici was born in Tirana, Albania and received a diploma in history and literature from the University of Tirana. He worked as a journalist, scholar, and sportscaster on radio and television. He is the author of several novels and nonfiction books, including the children’s books, “Memories of the Old Neighborhood” and “In the Footsteps” as well as the historical novels, “Assassination in Paris”, “The Murderer with the White Hands”, and “September Disaster.” He wrote the screenplay for “In the Footsteps” which won a special prize at the International Children’s Film Festival in Giffoni, Italy in 1979. He has lived in Boston, Massachusetts since 1999.

About the Translator

Carrie Hooper was born and raised in Elmira, New York. She has been blind since birth. She received a B.A. in vocal performance from Mansfield University, Mansfield, Pennsylvania.  She went on to receive an M.A. in German and an M.A. in vocal performance from the State University of New York at Buffalo.  After completing her studies, she spent a year at the Royal University College of Music in Stockholm, Sweden as a Fulbright scholar. Carrie currently lives in Elmira, New York. She taught German, Italian, and Romanian at Elmira College.  She has a passion for foreign languages and in addition to the languages mentioned above, she is also proficient in Swedish, Spanish, and Albanian.  Music also plays an important role in Carrie’s life.  She teaches voice and piano lessons, gives vocal concerts, plays the piano and organ at a church, and sings in a community chorus. Carrie not only loves music and languages, but also enjoys poetry.  She has published three books: “Piktura në fjalë” (“Word Paintings”), a bilingual collection of poetry (Albanian-English), “My Life in My Words”, and “Away from Home.”  She has also translated texts from Albanian and Romanian to English.

[The book ‘Disastrous September is being reproduced in episodes with the consent of the author]

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