Of All People (Part 3 - final)

When we last left our characters

...Then Spelter did the unimaginable.

The conclusion insha'Allah:

He looked behind him trying to see the car he had just been told he’d rear-ended.
Basil and The Professor looked at Spelter and then at each other incredulously. This guy couldn’t be serious could he? The Professor spoke up.“If you rear-end a car, the car you should be looking at would be in front of you.”
“Oh yeah. That explains why I don’t see no damage.”
“Do you have insurance?” Basil asked. He was sure Spelter would respond in the negative but he asked anyway.
“Dunno. It’s my mum’s car. Why don’t I give you her number and you can ask her. Sound good?”
Basil gave up. “Sure. Whatever. That’s fine.”
Basil got Spelter’s mum’s number and Spelter’s name which he now learned was David Duvall and then he turned to The Professor. “You need a lift anywhere?”
“No thank you. I’m just heading to the coffee shop.”
Basil looked and saw a small unobtrusive sign that read, “La Maison de the”. Not knowing why, he asked, “Do they have good coffee?” After the encounter with Spelter a.k.a. David Duvall, Basil figured he needed some caffeine.
“I enjoy it. Why don’t you join me? ” The Professor offered. “My treat”.
Basil had no intention of letting The Professor pay but he accepted the invitation. “By the way, my name is Basil,” he said extending his hand.
Offering his hand, The Professor said, “Nice to meet you Basil. My name is Sa’ad.”
Basil shook Sa’ad’s hand and was about to start walking to the café when Sa’ad looked over his shoulder and said, “Your car?”
The car. ‘How could I forget the car’? Basil pondered. Yes, I definitely need some caffeine. He went and pulled the car out of traffic and found a space not too far from the café. Sa’ad was waiting for him under the awning. As he walked toward Sa’ad he began to wonder what in the world he was doing. He was having coffee with a total stranger that he’d met in the middle of the street? Basil wasn’t a small man, but shouldn’t he be afraid? He looked at Sa’ad, he had a kind, friendly face and for reasons unbeknownst to him, Basil wasn’t afraid. Not in the least bit. It was at that moment that his curiosity got the better of him. Before he realized it, the words were out of his mouth. “You’re Muslim right? What do you guys believe anyway? I mean about God and all.”
Why had he asked that? To this day, Basil had no answer to that question. Not being a man who would have considered himself religious, the question had stunned him. Maybe it was the way Sa’ad handled himself, confident yes, but there was humility that seemed to radiate from him; not to mention the tranquility that was a constant undercurrent in his voice. At the time that was all foreign to Basil. He had never known religion to gift such commodities to people and his life, admittedly, lacked humility. Tranquility was rare and cherished. And God? Well, he rarely thought about Him. And there he was asking a complete stranger about him. “Maybe Spelter hit me harder than I thought”, Basil had mused and he followed Sa’ad inside.

That was six months ago. Since then, Basil had quit his job and his fiancé had left him. She had been unable to understand how an hour conversation with a stranger could result in him becoming a Muslim. In the end she had asked him to choose – her or Islam. He had chosen marriage, only not to her. He married Rumaysah and he couldn’t be happier Alhamdulillah. He no longer makes over two hundred thousand pounds a year, it’s more like forty thousand but the forty thousand is halal unlike the two hundred thousand had been. The Roadster is gone. Sold. He now drives a Toyota. It’s paid for. No payments and more importantly, no interest. His name is no longer Basil; he’s Bilal now. His parents? Well, they’ve been the most shocking part of all of this. Not only had they taken his conversion well, they were both here tonight at the masjid to say their shahada.



As Bilal sat next to his father waiting for the sheikh to arrive, he reflected on what had brought him to this point in his life: No doubt, it was Allah and He had chosen to bring him into this beautiful, perfect deen through David Duvall of all people. La ilah illah Allah. “Truly”, Bilal thought, “there is no God worthy of worship except Allah. He guides whom He wills however He Wills even through people like Spelter.

As Salamu Alaikum

Masha Allah a lovely ending. Alhamdulillah Allah guided us too.

May He protect us and keep us on the Siratul-Mustaqeem. Ameen.

sister Umm An-Nu'man, I like your story.

for sharing it with us.



A Muslim Mother

jazakillahu khayr A Muslim Mother and wa iyaki

Dear Sis,
Great Job, been a longtime since I read a story with an Islamic ending.

Jazakillahu Khayr dear sis umm kashifa . Insha'Allah you enjoyed it.

assalamou aleikoum wa rahmatoullah wa barakatou

lol, my dear sis Um An-Num'an, I just love your avatar. It reminds me of this old TV series ''Murder she wrote'' (going down memory lane here, you may not know it anyway, as it wa quiiiiiiiiiiiiite a few years back, but I watched it when I was your age )

Alhamdulillah you like the avatar. From our dear talented sis Mabsoota masha'Allah . And you speak as if you are old! You're not old (and not even close) walhamdulillah . But I do like the typewriter...reminds me of the Sherlock Holmes/Agatha Christie kind of thing eh?

wow.. this story is uploaded 2 years ago.

I am late but really impressed.
reminds me of many stories of revert muslims:)
May Allah give revert muslims strength to stick to our religion.

Thank you for sharing this beautiful story