*
"You've come a long way," Adnan said, smiling as broadly as anyone had ever seen him. "What brings you this far north?"
"Forgive me, Your Grace," Fahad replied with a distant look in his eyes as he continued to stare at Afrah. "I should have sent a raven ahead."
"Dark wings carry dark words, my friend," Adnan replied, clapping his back once again. "Come. There is much to do."
He turned then, to find Afrah staring at Fahad like a ghost risen from hell. Only then did he notice the strange look in his friend's eyes, as he too was staring at her.
"Fahad," Adnan said as he led him slowly towards her, "this is..."
"Afrah Aminu," he cut him off, a slow smile stretching across his face. "A pleasure to meet you once again, my lady."
As he bowed in an extremely exaggerated manner, Afrah's eyes flickered towards Adnan, who was staring at her with a curiously calm demeanour.
"Hello," Afrah replied once Fahad straightened up. His eyes were glued to her, making her incredibly uncomfortable.
"I believe I am missing something which you are about to point out," Adnan said, shifting his gaze between both of them.
"Afrah and I go way back," Fahad said with a mischievous smirk. "Some might even say we are as close as two peas in a pod."
"I certainly wouldn't say that," Afrah narrowed her eyes at him as she quickly turned to the scowling woman behind her.
"How do you two know each other?" Fahad asked, turning to face his friend.
"Why don't you let her explain that?" Adnan turned to face her. Fahad turned to face her as well, and under their collective gaze Afrah felt a knot tighten in her stomach.
"Adnan is my mother's husband's sister in-law's daughter's brother," she replied without looking at them.
Both men paused, tracing her sentence in their heads to be sure it made sense. Adnan was the first to understand.
"Touché," he smirked. "Fahad, why don't we go and talk to the district head? Earlier he made some curious comments which I would like you to hear."
"You look beautiful today, Afrah," Fahad whispered as they walked away, the unusual smirk still on his lips. Afrah breathed a sigh of relief as they walked away, revelling in the silence now that they were gone. Her table was finally empty, and she proceeded to the mosque which she had gotten directions to. It was time for her Zuhr prayer.
The prayer was quick, and she emerged from the mosque just under ten minutes later, with the acrid taste of the water she had used for her ablution still in her mouth.
The mosque was right on one of the busiest streets in the town. Afrah sat on the step as she slipped on her shoes, while watching the people as they hurried past on their day-to-day activities. A few traders were about, hawking their goods in as loud a voice as possible. There were three different people selling the same items: sugarcanes. Each of them pushed an old looking wheelbarrow, pausing every few seconds to water the canes against the rising heat. Across the street was a young boy who couldn't have been older than fifteen, carrying a wooden case with several packs of cigarette tied around it. There was an old cobbler who walked past as well, shaking his box so the strips of metal he had tied to it rattled as he walked. There were several children running up and down the street, most of them barefoot and wearing torn clothes while they chased their friends. Several old men rode past on their rickety bicycles, their straw hats tied around their necks. No one paid the slightest attention to the young woman sitting on the steps of the mosque, staring at them all with the hint of a smile on her face.
It was then that Afrah felt something tugging at the hem of her dress. She turned quickly, and smiled when she saw the little girl from earlier with the pink floral dress.
"Hello," she smiled as she reached out to take her hand. "What's your name?"
"Ruqayya," the girl replied coyly. "You're pretty."
"Thank you," Afrah's smiled widened as the girl placed her hand in hers. "I think you're very pretty too."
"You hand is soft," the girl said as she sat beside Afrah, rubbing her thumb in circles on Afrah's palm. "And you smell nice."
"I try my best to do that," she replied. "Where are your parents?"
"Father is at the farm, while mother is at Aunty Hauwa's place," the girl said, still rubbing Afrah's palm.
"Do either of them know you're here?"
"No," Ruqayya shook her head. "Where are your parents?"
"Well," Afrah laughed, "my father is probably at work, in a far away land. My mother is with him, and I think she's in the kitchen right now. Or at her friend's house."
The little girl frowned, before looking up very slowly. "Do you miss your daddy?" she asked.
"A lot," Afrah replied.
"I miss my daddy too," the girl said. "Uncle Abdul is a nice daddy, but I miss my real daddy. Mama says he has travelled to a far place, and he will not come back for a long time. I want to see him so I can tell him how much I miss him."
As realization dawned on Afrah, she felt her chest tighten as she stared into the eyes of the little girl, so young and innocent. She remembered a time when she had been just like her, naive and easygoing, without a care in the world. Her childhood had been snatched so cruelly from her, and it was strange to see someone else living out their own, oblivious to the world around them.
"Maybe my daddy and your daddy are together now," Ruqayya said with a brilliant smile, her dazzling teeth hitting Afrah square in the face once again.
"Why do you say so?" she asked.
"Because you said your daddy is in a far away land," Ruqayya replied, rising to her feet. "I like you. Will you be my friend?"
"I would like that very much," Afrah smiled back at her.
"Yay!"
Across the street, a group of kids were waving to Ruqayya, beckoning her towards them.
"I'm coming," the little girl sighed, jumping off the steps. "Bye friend," she waved at Afrah before dashing across the street towards her waiting group of friends. Afrah watched them play until they ran into the next street, the smile never leaving her face. It was several minutes later before she stood up and headed back towards the town square.
"Is there any particular reason why you've been avoiding my calls?" Fahad suddenly materialized beside her. He startled her, but only for a brief second.
"Were you waiting for me?" she asked.
"In a manner of speaking," he shrugged. "Won't you answer the question?"
"I haven't been avoiding your calls," she said. "I've just been busy."
"No one is ever truly busy these days," he said.
"Well I happen to be the minority," she replied.
"You promised me dinner when you returned from Abuja."
"I never promised you anything," Afrah replied, looking up at him as they rounded the corner. A few curious eyes swept in their direction, but for the most part they looked away almost immediately.
"How about tomorrow?"
"Tomorrow won't work out," she replied.
"And may I please know your reason for refusing me?" he asked.
"Well...," Afrah pursed her lips, thinking of a good enough lie to get her out of her predicament.
"I'm listening."
"Because I'm having dinner with Adnan tomorrow," she said quickly, a fractional smile on her face as she gave herself a mental pat on the back.
"Adnan?" he frowned. "So you like him?"
"Having dinner with someone doesn't mean you like them," Afrah pointed out. "You of all people should know that."
They had returned to the town square now. Adnan could immediately be spotted talking fervently with the district head, the smile still on his face. He looked up the moment they entered, and the smile immediately vanished, to be replaced by a questioning look.
"Well, I hope you have a wonderful evening, miss Afrah," Fahad said, pulling her attention back towards him. "I'll be in touch."
He walked away to join Adnan and the district head, not glancing at Afrah again. The development suited her perfectly. With nothing to do, she returned to the bus and sat alone, reaching for the book in her purse which she hadn't had a chance to read all day. The temperature had slowly declined, and the dust was beginning to settle as the shadows began to travel east.
For fifteen whole minutes Afrah sat in silence, losing herself in the book. Danielle Steele had always been her second favorite author, and she had been itching to start the new book from the collection she was building. So far, she had purchased fifty books of hers, and she was looking forward to having all of them.
The sound of someone getting on the bus pulled her out of the book however.
"Should I be worried?" Adnan asked.
"Why do you ask?" Afrah replied as she groaned internally.
"Because you're sitting here all alone, while everyone else is out there doing something."
"I was getting some time to cool down," she replied. "I'm exhausted."
"You don't like people very much, do you?" Adnan cocked his head as he sat on the seat across from her.
"Not in the general sense," Afrah shrugged.
They fell into silence then. Afrah slowly returned her gaze to her book, while Adnan fidgeted with the strap of his watch.
"What are you reading?" he asked after nearly two minutes of absolute silence.
Afrah simply raised the book so he could see the cover.
"The Ghost?" he smirked.
"That is what it says on the cover," she said icily.
"Is it good?"
"So far," she shrugged.
"Has Charlie arrived at Massachusetts yet?"
The question caught Afrah off guard, and she looked up at him sharply.
"I know," he shrugged. "The caveman reads; shocker."
"You've read the book?" she asked, realizing how stupid she sounded. Of course he'd read the book. How else would he know about that?
"Well, I guess you can say Charlie Waterston and I are old acquaintances," Adnan shrugged. "Do you like Danielle Steel?" he asked, realizing how stupid he sounded. Of course she liked Danielle Steel. Why else would she be reading her book?
"Yes," she replied. "She's my second favorite author."
"And I'm guessing J.K Rowling is your favorite?"
"Are you perhaps a psychic?" she asked, genuinely shocked by the accuracy of his guessing. In a world where thousands of authors existed, it was shocking that he was able to get the answer right on the first guess.
"Not that I'm aware of," Adnan replied with a hint of amusement in his eyes. "But you look like you've read Harry Potter."
"Is there a particular way that people who've read Harry Potter look?" she asked, genuinely amused.
"Well, they don't look like muggles," he said. "That's quite certain."
Afrah couldn't stop herself. She laughed.
"I guess they'll be needing me outside," he said, rising to his feet. "So I'll pick you up tomorrow at 7?"
"I never agreed to go out with you, Adnan," she said.
"If that is the case, then why did you tell Fahad that you agreed to my offer?" he raised a perfectly arched eyebrow. Afrah was almost envious of just how attractive he was. She stared down at her hands, trying to hide the blush which was creeping up her neck. She had completely forgotten the fact that men told each other everything.
"So, 7?" he asked, already heading for the door.
"7:30," she replied. Adnan smiled broadly at her reply, feeling as bright as the weather.
"I'll be there," he said. "And Afrah?"
"Hm?" She looked up.
"I love the way you laugh," he said before stepping out of the bus.
*