Working for Him...

Chap.11

“Do I ever joke, Isra Ali Kamil?”

The tip of my fingers played with the bandage on my forehead as I replied, “sure, in a parallel universe where you're not some grumpy jerk.”

“Isra Kamil I’m warning you do not push it with me,” he growled, through gritted teeth.

“Fine, fine,” I groaned, out of pain (from the damage done to my forehead) and annoyance, “Why are you calling me anyway?”

“Miss Kamil, I believe it’s in your job description to do as I say,” he started, “and I believe I asked you to deliver an important file to me, and would you look at that.”

He paused.

“I don't have that file,” he spoke again, “Are you trying to wreck my business?”

“Look, I did call you to try and explain to you...”

“Kamil I am in no mood to listen to your excuses, I want those files and I want them today.”

“So...?”

“So, do you have the files?”

“No...” I reply, coming to the conclusion that he’d say he’d come and get them. “They’re at the office.”

Boy was I wrong.

“Good, bring them to my house.”

“What!”

Before I got the chance to protest anymore, he hangs up. I sighed and returned to the living room where I find my sisters. Hafsa had her head on Neha’s lap as Neha stroked her hair while she, I'm guessing, slept.

Poor thing, it sickened me that fellow Muslim brothers and sisters could be so cruel to ruin someone’s life like that. It still seemed unreal to me but it just goes to show how there’s evil in this world. But sometimes that evilness is masked and we don't see people for what they really are until their true colours are exposed: Muslim or not.

Subhana’Allah, may Allah protect us from harm and guide those that are capable of harming down a righteous and God-fearing path.

“Neha I’ve got to go and drop some files to the demon, I mean... Marc,” I said.

“Now?” she asked, though not seeming shocked but more...grateful?

“Yep, he does not like to wait.”

“Wait, what files?”

“Ah, they’re at the office. I have to pick them up from their and drop them to him at his place, like say I'm the one with a car.”

“Isra, Hafsa said that her, well, fiancé, I guess, has a job that can provide for both, well, the three of them but,” she paused to briefly look at Hafsa before speaking again, “I have a feeling that we may need to help her, financially. I mean, she's not going to be able to work and a baby is expensive, so, I mean even if this man is earning alot, who’s to say things won't change...”

“So...I have to make sure I don't lose my job.”

“Exactly...”

Oh, great (!)

*

The only thing that was on my mind since I had left my house was how I’d manage to keep my job. I mean, as of now, I'm not really motivated to keep it. I want to be able to help Hafsa, of course I do. But working for him, Marc? Oh may Allah help me.

Had it been any other job though, I wouldn’t be saying anything, really. And the fact that this may be a long-term thing didn’t sit well with me either.