Afloat E. 7

"Let us not look back in anger, nor forward in fear, but around in awareness" 

James Thurber

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“I know what it looked like but...it-it’s not what you think. Mabby and I...”

Mabby? He calls her Mabby? 

I paused my battle with the chopsticks and looked up to meet his eyes. What I saw in them came as a surprise. The answers I had been seeking were laid bare in them. It felt like looking into his soul. It was not a casual fling and Brad would never let go of her. 

I dropped my cutlery and pushed away from the table. Somehow, I didn’t want to engage in that conversation. It was none of my business and if I had magical powers, I would erase my entrance into that room earlier today.

“I didn’t see anything earlier..." I lied and averted my gaze, "whatever you do with your time is none of my business. I appreciate working with Mrs. Mabel and I am enjoying the experience with the troupe. I love being part of the team. I actually think this Chinese food is tasty but I really must head home now, it’s  late already.”

“Oh... ehmm.” He cleared his throat and sat back; “don’t worry about that, I will give you a ride home.”

I shook my head and got up. An overpowering desire to go home rushed through me as my stomach began making strange and new rthym. I tapped it to quieten it;

“Thank you sir but I can find my way home and I am sure you are capable of handling the costume affair without me;”

He gave a short laugh and nodded.

I didn’t need to use the word affair but I could not help myself, as usual. I nearly smiled and continued;

“Thank you for my first Chinese experience. I enjoyed it. Goodnight sir!” I tried to sound cheerful and upbeat. 

“Can I at least pay for your ride home?”

“No need. My family house is not far from here.”

It would actually take me ten minutes to get home if I took the short route everyone in the community was so scared about and thirty minutes by the longer bus route. There was this tale in town about some organ harvesters who frequented the short route. The story was so out of this world and the community had fallen prey to whoever coined that fable. In the end, nobody was bold enough to take the route we were so used to taking in my hay years anymore. Our people avoided it at night like a plague. In my opinion those were moonlight tales to scare kids especially since there had never been any news of a missing person in our small community.

With a wide smile plastered on my face I waved my goodbye and dashed out of the restaurant and into the cool night. The contrast hit me instantly as the chill reminded me I was still in one of my newest creation; an off the shoulder Ankara crop top. How did it get so cold so soon; I hugged myself, balanced my bag over one shoulder and tried to rub some warmth into my skin. The gentle breeze played with my hair and rustled my top as I headed for the bus stop. Just then, my stomach rumbled and suddenly beads of sweat formed on my forehead and slowly trailed down my face. I knew what that meant. Who sent me to eat foreign food?

My system did not even waste time to reject it and there was no restroom in sight. I slowed down my pace and bent forward slightly while rubbing my open palm all over my troubled stomach to calm it down. Instead it rumbled louder like our community drum and I held my breath, trying hard not to let the threatening flatulence escape because I feared the unthinkable might come out with it. 

Without a second thought, I switched course and headed for the short route home. No myth nor fable would stop me from getting home early. I noticed the kids playing around stopped laughing when they saw me headed in that direction and a man standing way off continued staring at me as if I was insane but I ignored them and took the turn into the dreaded route.

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