Still, Ahreed was confused. He was definitely in some kind of detention, controlled by Australia's secret service. He was scared, his heart pounding from the moment he left the King's School in Sydney. It was a constant stress being pressed on him. There must have been something he had done wrong. Perhaps someone he knew was connected with the sports stadium terror threat he had seen in the news.
Ahreed's Baba had told him many things but they simply swirled around in Ahreed's head. This room was confinement: he was a prisoner. It was true, what he had heard, that the Australian government hated Muslims, was watching them and would punish them for the sins of a few crazies. A large mirror behind him - he knew they were watching him through the mirror - a TV camera above his head looking down at him - so they could see his face - only one chair in front of him, so his interview would be 1 on 1.
After what seemed like hours to Ahreed, the door of the room swung open and the young woman Kirstin came in, sitting down in the one chair without looking at Ahreed. She flipped pages in a file and read, flipped and read, looked up at Ahreed now and again, then back down and flipped, and read.
Finally she spoke, "So you wouldn't be a part of a terrorist act in Australia because you love Allah, is that right? Ahreed?"
Ahreed sat upright in his seat, shocked by the sudden aggression in the woman Kirstin. "No!" Ahreed insisted, "I would never be a part of an evil plan to kill people!"
Kirstin looked back down at her notes, folding her arms on the stainless steel desk. The light directly above her created a deep shadow over her face. "Ahreed," she began, pointing at a place on the page in front of her, "I have heard that promise before, then seen the boy catch a plane to Pakistan for the sole purpose of joining ISIS less than two weeks later."
Ahreed felt he was under attack. The woman definitely believed that Ahreed was involved in the stadium terror crisis. "I know nothing about the stadiums," Ahreed blurted out, "And I would NEVER hurt Australia!"
The woman kept looking down at her notes. She was not moved at all by Ahreed's passionate protest. After several moments, she finally asked, "So who mentioned stadiums to you?"
Ahreed's eyes flashed from one side of the table to the other, realising he had made a terrible mistake by mentioning the stadium threat. "My Baba talked to me about this - that it would cause a lot of trouble with our community."
Kirstin looked up into the boy's deep brown eyes. "What does your Baba have to do with the stadium bombing?"
Ahreed felt her eyes tear through his brain, throwing snippets of knowledge into a whirlwind of his mind. There was anger, after years of being afraid just because he was a Muslim being bullied and made fun of at school. There was anger, primal anger, because of the attack on his Baba. He KNEW that Baba was loyal to Australia. He KNEW his Baba was supporting him. There was no way Baba would ever abandon him.
The boy's eyes alighted back at Kirstin's stare, firing back with certainty and faith, stating, "My Baba would never hurt any soul. He came to Australia to be free of this."
"So you want to be free, do you?" fired back Kirstin.
"Australia is a free country - you cannot do this to me!" protested Ahreed.
Kirstin glanced down at her notes then back up at the fiery boy's eyes, "It's free for the right people, Ahreed. But are YOU one of the right people?"
"Yes!!" Ahreed gasped out. He breathed heavily, almost panting like a dog. "Yes I am an Australian, and I have done nothing against my country."
Kirstin looked to the bottom of the sheet in front of her. That was the end of the required questions for Ahreed. It was now time for Russell to speak to the boy and complete the assignment.
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