CAGED

Nine

The lantern shop now has a different look. I stand outside and admire the best models displayed at the window. Anyone would want to stop and check out a piece or two here. I am wearing joggers and a round neck t-shirt Zuri gave me with an ugly sandals she bought around the shop. The sandals has double crossings that reminds me of the Spartans.

‘’I told you it's cool,’’ I say as I walk into the shop.

She claps her hands together with her full teeth on display. ‘’Yeah?’’

I nod with a smile. Contrary to our thoughts and her excitement, people are not flooding in as expected. They just come in twos and look around but buy nothing. I have food and a comfortable place to return to. None of the sales made here is enough of my business but I love to excel. Lack of productivity infuriates me. 

My personal assessment of my grades has always been at the top. Even though I stole the question papers and scored myself, I was still a force to be reckoned with. Don't misunderstand me;  I'm just trying to be funny. I do not miss school. I particularly hate being bound by rules and silly disciplinary measures. 

The fifth potential customer for the day walks in. I immediately approach her. She says she was attracted by the lanterns at the window.

‘’ So you want something like what is at window?’’ I ask.

She shakes her head and tightens her hold on her handbag. ‘’I don't know. Are they not too expensive?’’

‘’ They are affordable and if you want to negotiate the price, the manager could give room for that.’’

She smiles. I smile back while my insides churned. I  want to take back the last conversations I had - all the smiling and that voice! That voice one used to convince a child. It was not me. I am not nice in that way. I do not enjoy degrading myself in that manner.

Zuri is looking at the customer as I approach. I wave in front of her and point outside before leaving the shop. Outside some boys and young girls are gathered around the naked statue. They are making silly poses with the statue as usual.

I have never belonged to a group or clique. Never had anything or anyone to call my own. Not even Kent. He was not mine. He was someone I was with until he found someone I could let him be with. It was not an agreement between us but it was there - unspoken yet agreed upon. 

Out of everyone in the world, if Kent should die, I will shed a tear at his graveside. I did care about him. He was like me; he had anger hidden inside of him. Kent could also tell my story because we shared the same plot. Just that in his case, it was his mother who stripped him of his innocence.

There is someone leaning on the platform the statue is on. The spit in my mouth dries up. Her hair is combed forward. It falls over her face. She is looking at me with her arms folded. She looks like she's taking a pose and I am the camera.

I am not afraid. It is as if I'm filled with the confidence that this is an open place and the strangers surrounding me will fight for me.

We do not move. We keep staring at each other like a battle. She leans off the platform and stands erect with a hand in her leather pants. My heart thuds like a big ball on a wooden floor. As she begins to walk away, I am tempted to hop on my feet and follow her.

I look at the window of the shop and around. I could follow her - I had a gun - that I did not know how to use. I turn my eyes to the direction she walked. She is no longer in view. It is either she walks too fast or she also has own shortcut.

I inhale and let it out. The urge to hit myself is there. It is overwhelming so I walk to a wall and hit my head on it. I continue hitting my head desperate to forget my carelessness. I should not have taken a job in this place. I shouldn't have done that. Now I'm living in the open like a sitting duck.