Recalibrating

Yusuuf was eating breakfast while Elizabeth was washing dishes. He sipped at his hot tea. It'd taken awhile, but he'd converted her diet to his. Among other things, he thought wryly.

"Plans for today?" he asked his wife.

"Julia is flying in this afternoon from New York. She'll be quite startled to see me like this," Elizabeth noted with a smile, gesturing to her hijab and abaya.

"Ah, yes, she will. I've been meaning to talk to you about this," Yusuuf said. Elizabeth's big blue eyes widened.

"Oh? Have I displeased you, Yusuuf?" she asked, her bottom lip pushing out instinctively into a pout.

"Far from it, my dearest. You've been a good a wife as I can ask for, and as modest a servant as Allah could create. But ..."

"But?"

"I look at my kinsman. We get it doubly bad, you know. Not only being Black, being African, but being Muslim. You know the sting of discrimination, of seeing someone fear you simply because of who you worship. But when you're Black, it's even worse. Everything you do is suspect. And then I see the women of this neighborhood. Women like you, who were drifting through life, comfortable, wealthy, neglected, only pretending to have faith. We joined, you and I, and made something greater than we both were individually before. My kinsman should have that experience. The wives around us should have that experience. But they'd never heed you as you are. They'd continue to shun you ... shun us. This is a lot to ask of you. I've wrestled with it for many nights myself. But I think you need to dress as the harlot you once were. Socialize with them as you once did. And show them the light and truth you experienced yourself."

Elizabeth sat and thought about that for long moments, staring into Yusuuf's eyes.

"So ... sort of like a double agent for Allah?" she asked slowly. Yusuuf chuckled.

"Something like that. And make Julia your first disciple."