LA CANDIDATE

BOXING DAY

Faryil watched as Severine sparred as though she was born in the ring. He had read about it; the liberal candidate was not only a black woman, but one of her hobbies was boxing, amongst other sports activities. Thus, Severine had a boxing ring in her campaign headquarters. The installation made headlines, and heads turned. Many wondered what Severine attempted to prove.

Reading the candidate boxed was one thing, but seeing her do it was another. The scene was as unbelievable as the call back from Severine's secretary after Faryil applied for a bodyguard position. All the person told him was that Severine was important. Her name meant nothing to Faryil over the phone, but Mikimedia made him realize he had touched the jackpot.

Candidates went to meet the French, and protection was essential. Parties paid to hire bodyguards, and the Ministry of Interior deployed the SDLP protection service during the election period. Party volunteers also surrounded candidates to protect them from an over-enthusiastic crowd, eggs, spit, or slaps, as one president experienced. The job could be dangerous, but the pay was worth it.

There were two to wait, and Micheal next to him seemed to know much about the candidate.

"Who's the other woman?" Faryil asked while looking at the only other woman in the room. She was tall and slender, with deep cacao skin. She resembled a runaway model with her long, straight hair, middle parting, and all Stella Mc fitness outfit. She stood outside the ring on Severine's corner and appeared to take notes.

"It's Cara Lokéto—Mrs. Lafarge younger sister. Avoid being friendly with her. She works for Mrs. Lafarge."

Faryil immediately placed Cara in the out-of-bounds zone of his mind. He guessed the protection also involved her to some extent.

The appointment was at 9:00, and the clock on the wall displayed 9:18. Severine didn't look like she was finishing off her training soon when she suddenly went to her corner and whispered something in her trainer's ear. The man looked in Faryil's direction, nodded, and came to meet him.

"Hi, I'm Keri. Did you bring your gear?"

"I'm here for the interview," Faryril replied.

"I know. Did you bring your sports attire?" Keri asked, looking at him from head to toe. Faryil dressed for the bodyguard part. With a white shirt and black suit, one would think he auditioned for Men In Black.

"Yeah, I have something in my car," Faryil said.

"Okay, go and change. Severine will see the next candidate, and you'll be right after."

"There's a misunderstanding. I'm here for the bodyguard position."

Keri's widened his eyes. He wondered if Faryil did it on purpose, "I know, listen, she won't hire you if you don't get in that ring. Got it."

Faryil did as asked. He came back to find an odd scene.

"You don't want to fight, you say?" Severine asked as she paced in the ring.

"With all due respect, madame, I don't see how sparring with you defines my capacity. Also, I refuse to hit a woman."

Severine smiled mockingly while looking towards Keri and her sister, "I beg your pardon. I thought you wanted the position. Do you think the threats only come from men? Do you think I'll pay you to protect me from only men?"

"Madame."

"Sortez," Severine said.

"Veuillez me suivre, Monsieur Faustin," Cara prompted.

Faryil understood he had to spar if he hoped to remain in the game. He advanced and opened the rope to climb in. Severine looked smaller close-up. With her smooth walnut-brown skin, the thirty-nine-year-old woman seemed as young as her twenty-seven-year-old sister without the make-up and suits Faryil saw her with on the internet. Height-wise, Severine was about 1.66 max. Why did people of small height have such big ambitions? Faryil thought before Severine spoke.

"Name?" Severine asked.

"Faryil Mohammed."

"Okay, Faryil, do you want to spar, or do you have trouble hitting a woman?"

"I have no issues with that, madame."

It was paradoxical, but for Severine, sparring was not about gender but a sport. Sparring with someone showed one's respect for the person they fought.

Focus Faryil, he knew what she wanted, but he wasn't sure he could give it to her. Severine didn't pretend; she threw accurate punches. Her leg work was one of a pro. Her bio didn't lie; she knew what she was doing. The candidate even managed to surprise Faryil twice, but it wasn't enough. The blow that knocked Severine out almost made Faryil want to pee on the spot and beg for mercy.

"I'm sorry, I'm really sorry," Faryil apologized as Keri and the guy called Micheal helped her up.

"It's okay," Severine said, thanking God she had head protection.

Faryil climbed out of the ring and began to walk away when he heard.

"Hey, where you're going? Don't you want the job?"

He turned to see Severine climb out of the ring and approach him. "See you in my office in thirty minutes."

Faryil took a shower and went to meet her in her office. He was almost happy to find her in a suit.

Her scorching red lipstick beamed as she said, "Your name is Faryil Mohamed, born and raised in Sarcelles. Your mother is a housewife, your father is a school janitor, your younger brother is currently in a correction center, and you have a clean slate: good graduates, undergraduate, community service work, and volunteering. You never miss a Friday prayer. I guess Friday is the day you'd like to be off?"

"Yes, madame," Faryil replied and adjusted his position.

"Why did you take your experience in the GIGN force of observation and research unit out of your resume?"

"It puts people off. I come off dangerous and expensive to hire."

"It's a shame your dangeriosity and analytical mind is why you're here."

Faryil didn't know whether he should smile or say something. He opted for a golden silence.

"Do you know me, Faryil?"

"I read about you." There was no use lying, Faryil thought.

Severine leaned back, "Do you believe what's written?"

"I believe what I see."

Severine leaned forward and clutched her hands on her desk, "What do you see?"

"Someone who needs help but won't necessarily ask for it," Faryil said before regretting the words that threw an ice bucket on an already chilling take.

Severine exhaled, stared into his eyes for what seemed an eternity for Faryil, and said, "The three months until the end of the elections are a trial. After that delay, the election results will determine if I need your service. As you know, I'm looking for someone to protect me notably from this person," Severine said, throwing a photo on your table.

"That'sㅡ"

"Do you know him?"

"Well, he's your husband, Alexis Lafarge, if I'm not mistaken," Faryil replied nervously.

"Yes, and he's also my opponent. I need you to tell me what he does when I sleep?"

"You want me to spy on him?"

"Yes, because he's the enemy I've got to keep close,"

One can't keep someone closer than in one's bed, thought Faryil while Severine pursued.

"ㅡBut with the campaign, he is making sure to remain out of reach," Severine said, grasping her husband's photo. "Alexis is well advised; his father and party won't let him lose. Thus, he is weaning his ugly penchant during the campaign, but I know him. He'll falter, and I need to catch him when he does. Concerning pay, your salary will not rely on party funds but on my wallet. So what do you say?"