The "A" Room

by Gary W. Cantor

     It was all over in a split second.  Ali heard a loud bang, and the next thing he knew he was standing in front of a big white door.

     He was a bit confused, and he opened the door very slowly.  Then, all of a sudden, he heard a voice.  It was a loud voice, and the speaker sounded rather agitated.

     �gCome in, already,�h the voice said.

     Ali walked into the room and looked around.  The room was bare.  There were just four white walls, a white floor, and a white ceiling.  Who just spoke, Ali wondered.

     As if to answer Ali�fs thought, the voice spoke out once again.

     �gIt�fs me,�h it said loudly.  �gGod�cthe one and only.�h

     �gGod?�h  Ali said softly.  Then, he smiled.

     �gWhat are you smiling about?�h God asked.

     �gWell,�h Ali said.  �gYou must know that I just killed a bunch of Zionists.  At least I think I did.�h

     �gYes,�h God said.  �gYou did kill a number of my children.  So what of it?�h

     �gWell,�h Ali said.  �gThat makes me a martyr.  And that means I get forty virgins. Right?�h

     Ali heard a little chuckle.

     �gNot another one of you guys,�h God said.  �gWho gives you all of that weird information?�h

     �gThe imam said it was so.  He said that I�fd get forty virgins if I killed some Zionists.  So, I did it.  So�cwhere are my virgins?�h

     �gYou guys must think I�fm crazy,�h God said.  �gI like virgins.  Do you think I�fd give them to someone like you?  You don�ft even wash, do you?�h

     Ali looked down at his hands, and then he looked up once again.  Then, he tilted his head back a bit and spoke in a rather nervous sounding voice.

     �gSo,�h he said.  �gWhat�fs going to happen to me?�h

     His query was met with utter silence.  He waited and waited for an answer, but none came.  Then, all of a sudden, a hole opened up in the floor and Ali fell.  He fell further and further and further, and finally landed rather softly in front of another door.

     This door was red, and taped to the door there was a small piece of paper with black lettering.  The following words were printed on the paper: �gWelcome to the 'A' Room.�h

     �gThe 'A' Room?�h Ali said to himself.  He wondered what could be inside.

     Ali opened the door very slowly, and then looked in.  The room was enormous.  It looked like a whole world to Ali, and he was surprised by the incredible number of people who filled every part of the room.

     �gThere must be a million people in here,�h Ali whispered to himself, and as he looked around, he noticed that there were people of every race in the room.  Not only that, he saw people in all sorts of different clothes, and as he scanned the back portions of the room, he noticed a large group of people who seemed to be dressed in traditional Arabic clothing.  Ali smiled.  �gThat�fs where I�fll go,�h he said to himself.

     Ali closed the door behind him, and walked down a few stairs to where the floor was.  Then, he took a deep breath and started to move toward the back of the room.  The room was extremely crowded with people milling about, so every few steps Ali bumped into someone.  Still, he thought of his brethren in the far reaches of the room, and that made him feel good.  He smiled as he walked, and for about five or six minutes he made slow but steady progress.

     Then, all of a sudden, Ali felt a tight grip on his arm.  He looked up and saw who it was who had grabbed him.

     �gHey,�h Ali said.  �gI know you.  I�fm sure I do.  I�fve seen your picture hundreds of times.�h

     �gYes,�h the man said.  �gI�fm sure you have.  I�fm actually quite famous, you know.�h  Then, he let go of Ali�fs arm and said, �gI just came over to congratulate you on a job well done.  You did good, kid!�h

     �gThanks,�h said Ali.  �gHow many Zionists did I kill?�h

     �gOh,�h the man said, �gI�fm not sure.  I think ten or eleven.�h

     At that point, the man hit himself in the forehead with the palm of his hand, and said, �gWhat�fs wrong with me?  I forgot to introduce myself.�h  Then, he extended his hand to Ali�fs and said, �gMy name is Schicklgruber.�h

     Ali shook the man�fs hand and then looked at him intently.

     �gWhat?�h he said.  �gI thought your name was something different.�h

     �gOh,�h the man said, nodding. �gA lot of people did know me by a different name when I was alive.  But, since I got here, I changed my name back to Schicklgruber.  It has a nice ring to it, doesn�ft it?�h

     �gYes, I guess so,�h Ali said.

     �gAnyway�h the man said, �gthere�fs one other thing that I wanted to talk to you about.�h

     �gWhat�fs that?�h asked Ali.

     �gIt�fs your clothes.�h

     �gOh, yes,�h said Ali.  �gI forgot.  I just put on this Israeli uniform so that I could get into the mall rather easily.�h

     �gYes,�h the man said.  �gThat�fs fine.  But, still, you better get out of those clothes.  This isn�ft a great place to look like a Jew.�h

     �gI see,�h said Ali.  �gThanks for the advice, Mr. Schickman.�h

     �gThat�fs Schicklgruber!  Schicklgruber!  Get it?�h

     The man seemed somewhat irritated, and scratched his small mustache five or six times.

     �gSorry,�h said Ali.  Then, he bowed ever so slightly to his new acquaintance and said, �gI must be on my way.�h

     �gWhere are you going?�h the man asked.

     �gI�fm going to the back of the room.  I think there are a lot of Arabs back there.�h

     �gSo there are,�h the man said.  �gSo there are.�h  Then, he looked toward the back of the room, and said, �gActually, I haven�ft been back there myself for a while.  And that reminds me.  I have a good friend back there.  A long time ago, he was the Grand Mufti of Jerusalem.  Ah, yes, a wonderful man.  He gave me some good advice.�h

     �gReally?�h said Ali.

     �gYes,�h the man said.  �gHe was a dear friend.�h

     �gWell,�h Ali said, �gwhy don�ft you come with me?  Maybe you can see him.  It�fs always nice to see old friends.�h

     �gAnd so it is,�h the man said.  �gBut there�fs a problem.  You see, some of your people don�ft like me.  Oh, they used to love me in your neck of the woods.  And I guess many still do.  But some of the young hotheads blame me for the creation of the state of Israel.  They think I�fm responsible for what you call �ethe Zionist entity.�f �h

     �gReally?�h said Ali.  �gI didn�ft know that.  In fact, if you are who I think you are, I think I�fve even seen a book of yours.  It�fs still pretty popular where I come from.  You did write a book, didn�ft you?�h

     �gYes, of course, I did.  And it sold pretty well in some places.�h

     At this point, the man seemed lost in thought.  Ali waited and waited for him to say something, but he just stood there thinking and scratching his little mustache.  Finally, Ali spoke up.

     �gWell,�h he said, �gI think I�fll get going.  Are you going to stay here?�h

     �gYes, I think I will.  But, anyway, it was nice meeting you, kid.�h

     �gAnd it was nice meeting you too, Mr. Schmickelube.�h

     �gThat�fs Schicklgruber!  Schicklgruber!�h

     �gSorry.�h

     �gOkay.  See you around, kid.  And don�ft forget about the clothes.�h

     �gI won�ft,�h said Ali, and off he went once again, trudging slowly but surely toward the back of the enormous room.

     As he walked, Ali was quite conscious of the Israeli uniform.  Some people gave him dirty looks as he passed them by, and he was sure that the uniform was the cause.  He thought about taking off the shirt, but it was rather cold.  So, he decided to put up with the inconvenience until he reached the back of the room.

     As he walked, Ali thought of his family, and wondered what everyone was saying about him.  I must be the talk of the clan, he thought.  And he could practically hear his father and his brothers and sisters bragging about how he had done well.  �gThat�fs my boy!�h he imagined his father saying.  �gHe killed a lot of Zionist oppressors,�h he could hear his brother Ibrahim bragging.  And he could see his youngest sister, the one with Arafat posters stuck all over her room, saying, �gHe�fs my new hero,�h as she pinned up his picture next to one of Yasser that showed the old war horse making a victory sign as he spoke out of four sides of his mouth at the same time.

     Thinking about such things made Ali feel wonderful, and soon a big smile opened up on his face.  I�fm a hero, he thought, and as he marched ever so slowly toward the back of the room his heart was filled with pride.

     Unfortunately for Ali, when he felt good like this he tended to get a little careless, and because of this as he walked he failed to notice that there was a little suitcase parked right in his path.  Ali�fs right shin rammed into the suitcase, and as he screamed out in pain, the rest of his body fell over the suitcase and tumbled down to the floor.

     �gOwwww,�h he yelled, and as he looked up he saw a hand stuck out in front of his face.

     �gSorry about that, Mister,�h Ali heard, and he immediately realized that the voice belonged to the same person who had extended his hand to him.

     Ali tilted his head up a bit higher and saw a man who looked to be about thirty or thirty-five years old looking down at him.  He took the man�fs hand and allowed himself to be pulled up to his feet.

     As he stood next to the man, Ali was struck by one and only one thing: the man�fs hair.  Slicked straight back, it looked like something out of the Elvis era, and it also reeked of hair tonic.  Ali hated the smell, and wanted to walk away.  However, after being helped up, he felt obligated to exchange some small talk with the man.  So, he stood there grinning and waited for the man to say something.

     �gI�fm Bobby Joe Smith,�h the man finally said.

     �gIt�fs nice to meet you, Mr. Joe Smith,�h Ali said.

     �gNo, no,�h the man said.  �gJust Smith.  My last name is Smith.  Okay?�h

     �gOkay,�h Ali said.

     �gAnyway,�h the man said.  �gI�fm sorry about my suitcase.  A lot of people trip over it.�h

     �gI see,�h said Ali.

     �gBy the way,�h the man said, �gare you the Camel, uh, I mean the guy who blew up all those Jews at that mall this morning?�h

     �gYes,�h Ali said.  �gI did kill many Zionists.  Actually, I didn�ft know how many myself until I got here, but a very kind man by the name of Schickelobe said  that it was ten or eleven.  I am very pleased.�h

     �gTen or eleven,�h the man said to himself.  �gThat�fs good.  Real good.�h

     �gYes,�h Ali said.  �gI am very happy.  And Mr. Schickelobe, who is rather famous, said that I did good.  By the way, do you know Mr. Schickelobe?�h

     �gSchickelobe?  No, I can�ft say that I do.�h

     �gOh,�h Ali said. �gThat�fs too bad.  He seems like a very kind man.�h

     �gAre you sure that you have the name right?�h the man said.

     �gI think so,�h Ali said.  Then he looked up and thought hard.  �gHe used to use a different name, but he said that he changed it back to Schickelobe�cOr is it Schickelweiser?�h

     �gSchickelweiser?�h the man said.  �gIt sounds like you�fre thirsty to me, bub.�h

     Ali looked confused, but instead of asking for a clarification, decided to change the subject.

     �gWhat�fs in your suitcase?�h he said.  �gDo you have any clothes?  I need to change clothes.�h

     The man looked at Ali and nodded.

     �gI can see that,�h he said.  �gBut, in fact, I don�ft have any extra clothes.  Sorry.  That suitcase is just filled up with sheets.�h

     �gSheets?�h

     �gYes,�h the man said.  �gMe and some of my friends like to dress up in sheets at night sometimes, just like the good old days and sit around and watch a fire burn.�h

     Ali was confused.

     �gI don�ft understand,�h he said.  �gWhy do you wear sheets at night?  Is it a religious thing?�h

     �gIt�fs a Klan thing,�h the man said.  �gYou know, the Ku Klux Klan.�h

     �gAh,�h Ali said.  �gI have heard of that organization.  But I thought that was just in the past.�h

     �gOh, no.  There are still some of us left on earth.  Not as many as in the good old days, but they�fll never get rid of the Klan for good.�h

     �gI see.�h

     At this point, both men stood silently, and Ali looked with amazement at the man�fs hair.  He had never seen such shiny hair.

     �gCan I ask you something?�h he said.

     �gYes.�h

     �gWhat is it that you have in your hair?  I know that it�fs not water, that�fs for sure.�h

     �gNo, it�fs not water.  It�fs Vitalis.�h

     �gVitalis?  What is that?  I have never heard of that.�h

     �gWell, it used to be popular, way back when I was alive.  But not anymore.�h

     �gI see,�h said Ali.  �gAnyway, Mr. Joe, when did you die?�h

     �gMy name is Smith.  Bobby Joe Smith.  Okay?  You�fre pretty bad with names, aren�ft you, Mohammed?�h

     �gI�fm Ali.�h

     �gOkay.  Ali.  Anyway, I died in 1962.  Yeah, it was a long time ago.  Do you want to know how I died?�h

     �gWell, I don�ft know.  Is it a long story?  I want to get to the back of the room and be with my people.  And I want to get out of these clothes and find a pair of Levi�fs or something.�h

     �gYeah, I hear you, Mohammed.�h

     �gAli.�h

     �gYeah.  Ali.  Anyway, the story isn�ft all that long, so I�fll tell you.�h

     �gOkay.�h

     �gIt�fs like this.  There was this Jew named Goldman, and he was one of those no good lawyers.  You know, always helping colored�cI mean black people with this and that, and getting involved with civil rights.  And so, we in the Klan decided to take care of him.�h

     �gTake care of him?  You mean you wanted to help him?�h

     �gNo, no.  I mean, you know, kill the guy.�h

     �gI see.�h

     �gAnyway, I was going to attach this explosive device to the bottom of his car, and then, when he started it, it would explode.  Understand?�h

     �gYes, of course.  I know a lot about how to kill people.  By the way, was this fellow Goldman a Zionist?�h

     �gI have no idea, Mohammed.  Just listen, will you?�h

     �gOkay.  But my name is Ali, Mr. Joe.�h

     �gSmith!�h

     �gNo.  Ali.�h

     �gNo, I mean my name is Smith.�h

     �gOh, yes.  Of course.�h

     �gAnyway, just let me finish.�h

     �gOkay.�h

     �gWell, I parked my car across the street from Goldman�fs house, and I was going to take the bomb over to his car, which was parked in his driveway.  And as I was crossing the street, boom!�h

     �gBoom?  Do you mean the bomb went off?�h

     �gNo.  The bomb didn�ft go off.  I got hit by a car and got my head crushed.�h

     �gOh, that kind of boom.�h

     �gYes, that kind.  Anyway, that�fs how I got here.�h

     �gI see.  That�fs too bad.  Anyway, I guess I should get going.�h

     �gOkay.  See you around.�h

     �gYes.  I will see you, Mr. Joe.�h

     �gSmith.�h

     �gYes.  Smith.  I�fm very sorry.  And by the way, if you happen to meet Mr. Schickelman, please give him my regards.�h

     �gYeah, sure.  Whoever he is.�h

     �gGoodbye.�h

     �gGoodbye.�h

     The two men waved to each other, and Ali once again started to move toward the back of the room.  He walked and walked, and as he did he heard a variety of languages and saw women as well as men, and he began to think that he may have actually stumbled into some sort of paradise.  �gThis is a nice room,�h he said to himself.  �gIt�fs a little crowded, but still, it�fs a real nice little world.�h  And just like before, a big smile opened up on his face.

     After a while, Ali heard something that enhanced his already good mood: the sounds of spoken Arabic.  I�fm near the back of the room, he thought.  And he quickened his pace in order to be reunited with people that he felt so close to spiritually.  He walked past two people speaking in Polish, then two speaking in Russian, then a number of German speakers, and then, finally, there they were: hundreds, if not thousands of Arabs.

     Ali stood before this huge group of people and he was overcome with emotions.

     �gHere I am!�h he cried out in Arabic.  �gIt�fs me.  The one who�c�h

     However, Ali wasn�ft able to finish his sentence, for as he was about to explain who he was, a man pounced on him and thrust a long knife into his abdomen.

     �gZionist!�h the man yelled.  �gHow dare you come here!  Death to all Zionists!�h

     As he writhed in pain, Ali remembered the uniform.  That�fs it, he thought.  And he tried to explain.  However, he didn�ft have the energy.  The words just wouldn�ft come out, and he slumped down to the floor.

     Ali looked weakly up at the knife-wielding man, and for a moment he thought that the man was going to stab him again.  However, a number of other men came over and subdued the assailant.  Ali was relieved, but in his pain and exhaustion, he could hardly move.  So, he remained on the floor and closed his eyes.

     �gHe�fs not a Zionist,�h he heard someone yell.  �gHe�fs a hero.  He�fs the one who killed all of those Zionists at that mall.�h

     �gYes, he�fs a martyr,�h he heard another person say.  �gOne of the great ones.�h

     Listening to these voices made Ali feel better, but still, the pain was excruciating.  I can�ft stand it, he thought.  He thought that his insides were going to explode.  And at that point, he drifted off into a long sleep.

     When Ali woke up, he was lying in a bed.

     �gWhere am I?�h he said.  �gDid I die again?�h

     A man looked down on him and chuckled.

     �gYou can�ft die again,�h he said.  �gWe can only die once.  You can suffer a lot, but that�fs it.  You just die once.�h

     �gWho are you?�h Ali asked.  �gAre you a doctor?�h

     �gYes, I am,�h the man said.  �gI will take care of you.�h

     �gThank you doctor,�h Ali said.  He looked at the man and was reassured by his calm voice and his white doctor�fs coat.

     �gLet me introduce myself,�h the man said.  �gMy name is Mengele.  Dr. Joseph Mengele.�h

     �gIt�fs nice to meet you, Dr. Mendel.�h

     �gNot Mendel.  Mengele!  Mengele!�h

     �gI�fm sorry, doctor,�h Ali said.  �gI seem to be having some trouble with names today.�h

     �gThat�fs all right,�h the doctor said.  Then, he smiled very softly.

     �gI�fm going to take off your bandage,�h he said.  �gAll right?�h

     �gSure,�h Ali answered.

     The doctor then reached down and took one end of the bandage.  Then, in one quick movement he ripped off the bandage as Ali shrieked.

     �gOwwww!�h Ali yelled.  �gThat hurts, doctor!  What did you do that for?�h

     �gDid it really hurt?�h

     �gYes, of course it did!�h

     The doctor chuckled.  �gWell,�h he said, �gto tell the truth, I�fm rather interested in pain.  And I know a lot about it.�h

     �gWhat do you mean?�h

     �gWell, dear sir, the truth is that I have done a lot of experiments dealing with pain.  When I was alive, I found out that people can sometimes put up with a lot of it before they die.  And here, well, here people don�ft die.  They just have to bear the pain that they have.  And that makes my job all the more enjoyable.�h

     �gWhat are you talking about?  Are you crazy?�h

     �gNo, sir.  I am a scientist.  I am the great Doctor Mengele.�h

     At this point, the doctor took a long look at Ali�fs wound.  Then, he reached into his doctor�fs bag and took out a large glass vial.

     �gWhat�fs that?�h asked Ali.

     �gOh, nothing to worry about,�h the doctor said.  �gJust some salt.�h

     �gSalt?  Why do you need salt?�h

     The doctor laughed.  �gDon�ft worry,�h he said.  �gThis will sting a bit.  But I�fm sure a brave person like you can stand a bit of pain.�h

     The doctor poured some of the salt into his hand, and as he watched, Ali started to panic.  What should I do, he wondered.  Then, an idea came to him.

     �gSir,�h he said to the doctor.  �gI couldn�ft help noticing your accent.  Can I ask you a question?�h

     �gAll right,�h the doctor said.

     �gDo you know Mr. Schickelstein.  I met him today.�h

     �gSchickelstein?�h

     �gYes, I think he was a famous leader in your country once.  And he wrote a book, and he said he even knew the Grand Mufti of Jerusalem a long time ago.�h

      The doctor thought for a while.  �gDo you by any chance mean The Fuhrer?�h

     �gYes, that�fs him, I think.  He is also in this room, and now he just calls himself Schickelstein.  He said that�fs what his name was before he changed it.�h

     �gYou mean Schicklgruber, you idiot!  You really do have trouble with names, don�ft you?�h

     �gI�fm sorry, sir.  But anyway, he seems to like me.  You can ask him.  He said that I did a good job when I killed all of those Zionists.�h

     �gWell,�h the doctor said, �gI don�ft know about that.  But anyway, why do you bring up The Fuhrer now?�h

     �gWell, sir,�h Ali said.  �gI don�ft think that he would like you to hurt me.  Like I said, he likes me.�h

     The doctor laughed.  �gYou really are a strange man,�h he said.  �gYou blew yourself up along with all those Jews, and now you�fre worried about a little salt?  Just relax.  We have a long day ahead of us.  And then there�fs tomorrow, and the day after tomorrow, and the day after that�c�h

    The doctor laughed loudly.  Then, he slowly sprinkled the salt that was in his hand into Ali�fs wound.

     �gOwwww!  That hurts.  Please don�ft do that, Dr. Mendel.�h

     �gThat�fs Mengele, you idiot,�h the doctor said.  Then, he took out some more salt and sprinkled it on Ali�fs wound.

     �gOwwww!  Please, please.  I beg you, Dr. Mendelson.  Please stop.�h

     �gMendelson!�h the doctor yelled.  �gAre you out of your mind?�h

     He then reached into his bag and took out another, larger vial of salt, and emptied it all at once into Ali�fs wound.�h

     Ali screamed at the top of his lungs.

     �gThere�fs more where that came from,�h the doctor said.  �gThis will be more fun than I�fve had in years.�h