GETHSEMANE

CHAPTER THREE

A woman sitting across from the man angles her head to smirk at Fanta.

It is the boss. ‘I caught you this time.’

Fanta shuts the door, feeling tired. ‘What did I do?’ she challenges.

Fanta’s attitude is nonchalant, even more maddening. ‘Evidence’ she says as she removes her boot at the doorway.

The woman pats the sofa beside her. ‘Come sit.’ She commands.

Fanta ignores the command. Her voice is raised a notch higher in panic. ‘Why are you here? I didn’t do anything wrong.’ She grits.

The woman’s other hand comes up, above the sofa, waving a gun. ‘Little girl, don’t make me repeat myself.’ She smiles too evenly.

Her eyes are steel. They are always steel on her womanly face. The woman is dressed in a simple black dress and a stiletto. She bares a prominent cheekbone, with lustrous lips and black, deep-set eyes: a woman’s face.

This woman is so different from her beautiful madre. Beauty is always different. Fanta hesitates but gets closer. Fanta has never dealt with guns before.

She had always known her business path was of the dangerous kind, but it was the only way. She would not dare tell anyone though. The woman pulled her to sit by her.

All the while, the robust man watches everything with passiveness. His eyes are a storm that Fanta cannot dwell on.

She stares at the gun. She did not have many gun threats in her business as she had minimal contact with her customers.

‘Why are you in my apartment?’ Fanta gulped, trying to be brave. ‘You could have arranged a meeting anywhere else.’ She snapped.

The woman chuckled, glancing at the man opposite. The man released a shaky smile. The woman returns her attention to Fanta. ‘You double-crossed me. You even have your own package.’ She accused.

It was true, Fanta recently designed a new package, meaning to gradually cut herself off from her sole supplier in drugs.

‘Why are you not replying me? You know I don’t like it when I am ignored. It incites me.’ The woman threatened.

Fanta’s mind was blank. She was lost for words.

‘She’s just a stupid kid boss, give her another chance.’ He pleaded.

‘Why do you always defend her? Do you like her?’

‘That’s extreme. She’s just a kid – that’s too low for me.’ He replied.

She turned to Fanta. ‘You don’t deny your fault.’ The woman’s lips thinned.

Fanta crept to the ground, kneeling and begging. ‘It will never happen again. Give me another chance.’ She pleaded.

The woman watched Fanta. ‘For some reason, I have always disliked you.’

‘Please forgive me.’ Fanta pleaded, feeling sick of everything and feeling deep regret as well.

‘You have the guts to ask me what I am doing here. I am the one responsible for housing you and the clothes you wear. You are a runaway. I can’t stand traitors. They can’t change.’

Fanta emitted a cry, fearing her end was at hand. She grabbed the woman’s leg and hugged it, kissing her feet in tears. ‘I promise it was a mistake; I was stupid.’

‘Because of you, every other idiot is copying you. I cannot forgive all of them. It is only right to deal with the source of the problem. I was a girl like you once. I was just like you.’ The woman emphasized.

She signalled to the man as she stood up. She shook Fanta off her leg.

‘Deal with all loose ends.’ She stood up and traipsed to the door.
Fanta closed her eyes tight.

The man cocked his gun, levelling it at FANTA.

‘May your soul rest in peace’ he muttered and pulled the trigger.
Fanta could hear the pump of her heartbeat in her ears.

She wondered about death, praying it would be quick so that she would feel no pain.

Nothing happened. She peered through her eyes, seeing that the man had emptied bullets at her. Was this the part where her soul left her body?

‘Unbelievable.’ A set of feet clicked softly to the rugged living room. ‘Give the gun to me.’ The woman snatched the gun and shot it, but there was no bullet left. She hissed, opening her clutch and pulled out her gun and aimed.

The woman’s powerful arm rippled at the impact of the shot, looking at the bullet fall on the ground. ‘Are you a witch?’ she asked amid disgust and shock.

She turned on the man, pointing at him accursedly. ‘You introduced her to me, explain.’

The man was just as confused. The woman threw her purse at him, demanding an explanation when the gun clattered on the floor. Fanta stretched her hands for the gun, rocking the weight of it and what she was most possibly about to do.

A stiletto connected to her face. ‘I don’t need a gun to kill you.’ The woman said.

Fanta let go of the gun, slamming against the rug, which broke the impact on her head.

‘Boss’

‘Shut up’ she grabbed Fanta’s hair and started to punch her face. ‘You can’t mess with me. You’ve got to go.’ She snarled.

Fanta struggled to remove the woman’s hands, but it was a vice grip. Fanta felt about blindly and pointed the gun in the air pulling the trigger repeatedly until the woman whimpered and let go.

Fanta shot up and jumped over the sofa. She shuddered, letting the gun slip from her fingers.

‘You killed the boss.’ The man accused. ‘You’re just a little kid; you could be thrown to the wastelands for this.’ He advanced threateningly.

She took steps back as he backed her to the wall.

‘Tell me one reason why I can’t end your life.’

Fanta’s hands hid her face as she trembled. It felt like forever when it struck her that for some amazing reason they could not kill her.

She smirked, looking up as she removed her palms from her face. Her face was wet with salty tears. ‘You can’t even kill me.’ She swallowed a hiccough.

Meeting his gaze her eyes turned to steel.

***

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