RAHIM

The elevator doors open and we walk out. He leads the way to a door. He shifts his load to one arm, checks his coat side pocket, gets out the card and swipes open the door, ushering me in. Here I go to my slaughter chamber.

I couldn't help myself; "Wow, this is good, the décor, style, it's perfect."

The room looks exquisite and I can't take it all in. I didn't imagine there were houses for rent here apart from hotel suites or guest rooms because this looks like a lavish apartment. Here I thought we were going for the rooftop, or something else; my nerves were eating me alive.

"Oh! It's cool…How did you picture my house, a shabby drenched den?"

"Is this your house?"

"Maybe."

"Who can imagine where Rahim can live, it's hard to define you."

He is moving around the open kitchen as I wander around the living room, inspecting, looking for anything subtle; cameras while at it.

"Shots as promised, and you are totally safe here… you can let loose."

"Are you being serious?" Does he want to murder me the easy way and take care of my body how he sees fit, not a chance?

"Shoes off, and settle, you are safe here."

"Are you joking?" Why is he emphasizing?

"No, I need to have a proper convo with you and this is the only way I know how to keep you. What I am about to tell you will take time."

"We couldn't do this during the day?"

"We are both busy with day-to-day activities." 

We could both create time, but I wasn't going to let it turn into an argument. I want him in these spirits, the nice Rahim. He sets the table in the living room, not the dining one. I watch him as he gets busy, he seems at home with his shirt sleeves folded mid-arm revealing an armful of tattoos.

First things first shoes off, I keep my possessions out of prying eyes and safe. After lots of practice, I was comfortable carrying Knives around on my body or clothing, sheathed beneath. It started out as I attended defense classes, then went ahead and bought a dart board for my anger management. Knives became a better idea for reflexes than darts and now they are part of me, for protection. A lady can befall anything, better be prepared always, now I carry those around, apart from pepper sprays.

I was wary of the shoes being far away as I settled down on the sofa, even though I had a few blades on me, the boots had a whole array of weaponry.

"A toast or fun drinking?" He approaches with a tray full of different glasses and a variety of drinks.

"Ever miss the old days."

"Are we reminiscing?" He turns the TV on and a cool soothing; sort of humming sound comes from different sides of the room; boys and their toys.

"Kind of, if we can recapture some moments or turn back time..." He was softening me up, I don't how much longer before I bring my walls down. Although I came to learn how to be extra cautious, not everything around you seems as it looks, and a situation can change in a jiffy second. Time can change and build a man differently; with his mood swings, change of character, one never knows what to expect coming to life. I must be alert even if I am feeling reckless enough. Being here is an ambush and me going on with whatever he says is driving me nuts, yet I can't walk out of the door. The years we had apart, I couldn't know what came out of him.

He goes back to the kitchen and comes out with another tray; the food spread was what I needed. Do you stress eat? Eating is one of the things that make me happy and for a while, I forget my troubles. He joins me and we sit down by the rug.

"This brings back old memories."

"Definitely."

We dig in, each one in their own world, he smiles wildly, and I am tempted to ask but I hold my tongue, he might ignore my question and I don't know how much I can take before I combust.

He gets up and comes back with a small satchel and out of it comes a splint and a light. He adorably says "For your munchies."

"You remember." He was pulling all the stops, was this his way of apologizing after the stunts he has pulled so far?

"Of course, high quality of the best high grade."

"Is that what your peddler told you?"

"I can pass as his salesperson."

"Let's put it to test."

Lighting it up and inhaling the first puff and my thoughts immediately are 'if I go tonight, at least I will be at peace with it,' this weed was banging and I was here for it.

"This is the shit."

"He wasn't kidding," He says smiling.

In the few encounters we have had since our reunion, I have never seen him smile but now he looked happy, and younger, and am stuck trying to overthink the scene unfolding before me. Should I trust him for old time's sake or should I be cold and indifferent; my resolve is unwinding.

He is done with two burgers. Apparently they were having offers and we ended up having four, his share of chilled fries was out, half of my share was gone too and I was full. What next, should I call a cab? Something is playing on the telly but the music is on, and they are using words and beats instead of a hum. Could I be more patient: it is slowly wearing out, if only I could scream; let out these pent-up frustrations, unfortunately here I am, second-guessing everything, my body taut, ready for a fight or flight any second.

"Done with these?" He asks so nicely, as he picks up the tray piled up with used utensils and he goes back to his kitchenette. He seemed at home and at peace, I was finding it difficult to be mad at him, when all I could see was Rahim. I couldn't help but smile a genuine smile without malice or hiding behind it, it was natural. He smiles back, with a quizzical look in his eyes but covers up quickly, I doubt I saw it there. Is he still playing games? My instincts were screaming at me, it took all my will to be here but I found a way of drowning my haywire thoughts before they start spilling out and they land us in trouble. 

Getting busy I threw pillows on the floor and got myself comfortable. I pour some of the brown liquid and gulp it down; pour some more and as I was lighting another blunt, the light was dimmed creating a different ambience and glow. That startles me a bit but well, each house has its own tricks; before I take the next glass down, he reappears his top buttons are unbuttoned and the top lining of his white vest is shimmering. He has been watching from the kitchen stand, I didn't see nor hear him approach; how consumed in thoughts was I?

"Finally!" He says elated, clapping his hands.

"What?" Looking up at him I ask, hoping his enthusiasm will guide him in the right direction, I wait for him to start talking.

"You are back!"

"Why?" he settles down beside me and I pass the blunt.

"I can see that," he inhales and holds still for a moment. I hate being patient, it is ruled out.

"How?..."

"It is all over the place."

His energy was infectious and I'm brought back to the juvenile young girl that I do be. Those times were simpler, I had all the cards in my hand and I was the dealer, and now; how things have changed. However, at this moment I am going to be vulnerable and allow myself to be in the present and live now, everything aside; at the end of the night, I will pick up my skin and put it back on.

"You look like your old self right now, with all this. If you need anything for your comfort just ask."

He passes the blunt. A few things cross my mind but I decide to be light and fun, forget the troubles we have in between, and see how far this will pan out.

"I'm good, I think."

"Good. Take this and cheers."

He refills the shot glasses and we drown them. He pours himself some soda and places ice cubes in another glass. He takes fresh blend juice and pours in another glass, I was watching in my high state feeling the burn of hot whiskey in me.

"Fresh?"

"Yeah. I'm still on this because of you," that was a shock. "You should feed from mother earth, she provides for us, we are what we eat." That was what my mother imprinted on me, going ahead and mentioning my grandmother and great-grandmother, and how in great shape they were despite their age. They were healthy and young and I passed the information to my close friends.

"Fresh is good for the body." I agreed. "I don't remember the last time I went to the hospital, sick, or anything wrong or going on in my body; it was probably when Mrs. M took me in because of that stupid infectious chicken pox. What do you expect from an outbreak of a highly infectious disease? In a boarding school, sleeping in the same cubicles and sharing the same classes it is hard not to contract such a wretched disease."

"I remember." He laughs heartily.

"I still have scars to testify to that."

"How is Mrs. M doing?"

"She is as perfect as she can be."

"For the old days," and we drank another shot.

"Let's play a game; Truth and dare." He is giddy and a glimpse of the teenage boy I knew resurfaces and that brought me out of my reverence.

"Why don't we play truth or truth instead?"

"Sounds good but; strip, dare and truth, how's that?"

"Explain."

"You ask a question, you answer truthfully or strip and drink. We both drink though," he adds chuckling.

"How old are you, are we teenagers?"

"It will be fun; don't be a buzzkill, just like old times."

"Fine, I'm in." 

This was going to be fun. What the heck, I might as well enjoy the view beneath that shirt. He looked too fine or is the whiskey impairing my judgment? What am I getting myself into? He smiles like a Cheshire cat, unfortunately, he doesn't know he is being played; am so clothed, he will be amazed, thinking he will just see me naked, well he is in for something. By now I can hold enough liquor for both of us in my system for the night. Hopefully, it will be quick and let his lips slip off all the mystery he has in his head.