The Grand Khaleefeh Hároon Er-Rasheed

Fall 2024

In the great olden village of Mujira in Old Arabia there lived a lawmaker, to whom all the townspeople would come to in need of legal judgement. This man— the Grand Khaleefeh Hároon Er-Rasheed— was renowned for his judicious and fair judgement. 

Once, during the third Winter of the 2nd Namoud Caliphate, a butcher and a thief came to seek his guidance. 

“Holy Grand Khaleefeh Hároon Er-Rasheed, I have come to you in a time of great need” said the butcher. “For this man… This thief has stolen from me. He has stolen the legs of six cattle, and left my family in great despondence.”

“Very well” responded the judge. “Since you have the legs of this man’s cattle, I order for you to have taken thine own legs, for surely you have given testament by your beastial crimes that you are no more than cattle yourself. For you must reap what you sow.” 

And so it was, and the legs of the thief were taken and the great restoration of justice was rejoiced among the whole town. The Holy Grand Khaleefeh Hároon Er-Rasheed did indeed live by this principle of taking onto oneself what one has giveth to their brother-- an eye for an eye. By this principle he lived and he prospered as a lawmaker and as a man. 

After a long and fruitful career, when the Grand Khaleefeh Hároon Er-Rasheed became old and covered with age, he moved to Sarasota to be closer to his daughter Cece and grandkids, who went to preschool there. 

Once, during the third Winter of the 2nd Bush Presidency, his grandchildren came to him in need of urgent judicial judgement. 

“Papa” so said Jimmy, the elder of the two brothers by eleven moon-cycles. “Timmy tear my hulk shirt!” 

The Grand Khaleefeh Hároon Er-Rasheed looked at his Cece, as if to request her permission to rule the case. She smiled permissively, and he smiled back, and they shared the moment briefly before he returned his focus to his plaintiff: 

“Very well,” said his grandfather. "Since Timmy has torn the threads of your cover, I judge that you shall take this knife upon yourself, and wielding it, tear the flesh of your brothers abdome—“

“No No NO NO! Are you kidding me dad?! They’re in preschool for God sake!”

“Honey. Honey. I love you. You know this. But it is written that Timmy must reap what he sow!“

“Dad, I can’t even with you when you get like this.”

“Like what, Honey?”

And upon hearing this, she knew he had already fully gotten like that, and she dropped it because it, like, wasn’t even worth it. 

____________________________________________

Another evening, after the sun had come to rest and the stars had made the dark blue sky their pillow, the Grand Khaleefeh Hároon Er-Rasheed had come for dinner with Cece and her new boyfriend, Rick, who did graphic design. Upon his arrival, he found Cece crying alone in her kitchen, and he inquired as to the reason. She explained that Rick had gotten drunk on Mojitos with his office coworker and kissed a woman in the HR department. 

“May I prescribe unto thee one suggestion?” Grand Khaleefeh Hároon Er-Rasheed asked in earnest. 

“Dad… now is really not the time.” 

“Please, honey. I want to help.” 

Apprehensively, she relented. 

“You say that Rick hast betrayed the trust implicit in your relationship by making congress with this Shawna woman?”

“Yes, dad.”

“And so would it be fair to say that Rick, roughly speaking,” cough he cleared out his throat,  “tore out a piece of your heart?”

“Dad— do not even finish that thought.”

“I’m just asking honey what?!” 

“This is 2024! We’re in Sarasota! Not everything is eye for eye!” 

“You’re not making sense.”

“Dad, I’m not gonn—“

“Just, baby, please let me finish.”

“Bu—“

“Let me finish.”

And so Cece relented once again to Grand Khaleefeh Hároon Er-Rasheed’s pleas and allowed him to finish. 

“Ahem like I was saying: if Rick basically tore out a piece of your heart, then it would only be fair if…. Maybe… you…… took upon yourself a scythe and PIERCE Rick the graphic designer's unholy CHEST! For he must TAKETH what he has WROUGH ONTO THEE AN-"