By Pearl Abraham
Develop Uncorrected facts, American Taliban, a unique, Pearl Abraham, Random condominium, writer, 254 pgs., "an intimate portrait of ways a roughly traditional American boy can be seduced via the belief of filing to Islam". . .
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Extra resources for American Taliban
Katie and Sylvie stopped at the fourth breaker; Jilly, emboldened by her first success, kept going, and John went with her because someone had to. Katie and Sylvie watched, afraid for them. They were out here on their own, with no lifeguards, no help for miles, surfing in precisely the kind of conditions they’d promised their parents not to surf. But pushing beyond safe had always gotten them their best rides. When, minutes later, Jilly caught what looked like a double overheader and surfed for what felt like fifteen long minutes, Katie and Sylvie joined John at the fifth breaker.
They’d done their homework. Barbara and Bill cheered, too, though they didn’t know the references. John explained. I get it, Bill said. They’re inside jokes. Yes, John said. But also they’re moves possible only on long, wide boards known as doors, impossible on today’s lightweight small surfboards, and they’re not exactly easy on a skateboard, not even a pig. Introductions done, Katie came up for a series of tricks. She began by tictacing, ollied up on a block of concrete, slid along the edge on her front wheels, kicked her board into a kickflip on her way down, and landed—imperfectly, wobbly, but she stayed up.
He didn’t want to, shouldn’t have to say it, but Katie wouldn’t let him off. She stood facing him, hand on hip. You have to answer the question, she said, in a bossy teacher’s voice. John felt cornered, badgered. He shrugged. He looked away, opened the Dylan book, but Katie waited. Only you really know, he finally said. After which Katie became quiet; he could tell she wanted to leave. Seeing her unhappy, he regretted what he’d said, tried to take it back, but it was too late. Katie excused herself to find a restroom.