Yours Truly

Spotlight

Zamirah opened up the mini-fridge in the shop's small break room that Rafiki usually stumbled into in the mornings where he'd partake his first few cups of coffee before starting the workday. Lined with bottles of water, Powerade, and a couple of solidary Gatorades, she took out five bottles of water and gently shut the fridge with a nudge from her knee before heading back out into the garage; where the four men who had surprised her were now spread out about the various stools and chairs that the garage sparingly offered.

She played the hostess as she handed out the water bottles to the farthest man first, working her way back towards their seeming-leader, Bane, who sat upon a chair he had wrangled up. Then kept a water bottle for herself. "Rafiki said it'll be another 5 minutes." One of the militiamen spoke as he hung up his cellphone and Zamirah moved to go back to the break room before Bane spoke up,

"Help yourself." Bane's voice reached out to her and she stopped, looking back at him, only to find the man gesture to the stool behind the desk. Silently, she changed her direction and walked over to the stool before taking a seat upon it. Wondering when they'd all leave as they sat around like hungry jackals awaiting their next meal.

She was a bit wary of Bane but she was more unnerved by the fact that he was talking to her like a person; like her Uncle would. In the sense that he didn't find holding a conversation with her distasteful or 'beneath him' as many so often did in her life. It made her nervous and left her feeling like it was some type of ploy that would give her false-hope and lead to her being stabbed in the back.

It was another form of torture she suffered in her homeland.

"Where are you from?" Bane questioned casually to make light conversation and she looked at him as he leaned back in the chair and met her eyes, "Arabia, perhaps?" She blinked in surprise,

"What makes you think so?" She asked him and he tapped the corner of his eyes. Her eyes? Was that what he meant? "Oh. Um, no, I'm not from Arabia." She answered and he ventured again,

"Egypt, Perhaps?" Bane questioned and she shook her head. As she opened her mouth to vocalize that she was from the West and not the East, Rafiki came into the shop and hissed his usual slew of hateful venom her way in the tongue of their ancestors.

"Shut your mouth, Unwanted, no one wants to hear your voice." Rafiki hissed and she did so, "Get out." At the command, Zamirah got down from the stool and Bane's men got up as he stood up,

"Please. Sit." Bane told her firmly and gestured back to the stool. Torn between her Uncle's brother and the more imposing male, she stood where she was a moment before slowly taking up her place upon the stool again. Though Bane was turned half-way towards the woman and looking at her, he spoke to Rafiki, "You've kept me waiting, Rafi. I'm displeased." When Rafiki opened his mouth to offer something up, Bane quickly cut her off, "However, she saw us being entertained. Now; who is she?"

Rafiki stumbled over the chance to try and redeem himself which he was all-too-eager for, "My niece, Zamirah. She's just got here a few months ago; forgive her for her manners, she's new to the country." Rafiki laughed a bit nervously as he added, "She's not allowed to speak her name. Old family custom-"

"I need those bikes, Rafi," Bane interjected as he showed a small fraction of patience for the man as he did with Zamirah. Rafiki looked back at the man,

"Yes, I'll have them in three weeks-"

"I'll give you one." Bane said simply and the other man's lip twitched in shock at the shorter period given to him. The larger man shrugged, "Plans change."

"There isn't- I...I won't have that many in a week." Rafi said and Zamirah quietly dismounted from the stool. She moved away from them, aware that this seemed to be a conversation that didn't involve her and shouldn't. Aware that she should make herself scarce as Rafiki continued, "I've already gotten them and they're on the way. Can't you just wait?" With a nervous lip of his lips, he slipped in, "It might take a bit extra."