The Hooded Hijabi

Gun Shot

I walk into the alley and call out,"Mustafa?". He turns his head around, still pinning the boy to the wall, and his eyes widen as he sees me behind him.

He looks at me nervously and gradually lets go of the boy who falls down on his knees and coughs blood.
I rush to the boy's rescue, ignoring Mustafa, his pleading eyes telling me that what I just witnessed isn't what it looks like. "Are you okay?", I ask the boy, knowing very well how foolish I sound.

"Of course, you're not okay.", I answer my own question as I look for a tissue paper in my bag. I cover his nostrils with a napkin hurriedly and hand him a water bottle.

He takes a gulp of water and spits the bloody water on the ground. He then takes a few gulps of water.

Mustafa simply stands behind me, watching me carefully without making an effort to help or speak up in his defence. I help the boy get on his feet and glare at Mustafa who then takes the boy from me and stares at me with a glazed look on his face.

"Take him to Rachel's car.", I flatly say and begin to walk to the car that now is parked near the alley. Mustafa follows me, holding the boy who staggers on his way to the car.

As the boy is seated in the back seat, I turn to face Mustafa who is standing with his head lowered and his hands in his pockets.

"I'm taking him to the hospital.", I say. He looks up at the sky and sighs somewhat irritably. He begins to walk to his bike as I stand there puzzled by his audacity to ignore me in such a situation.

I roll my eyes and huff at him feeling highly irked by his behavior. As I sit in the car, Rachel raises her eyebrow at me questioningly and I simply shake my head not knowing what to say. Even though Rachel seems quite annoyed she simply ignites the engine and heads to the nearest hospital.

Once the boy is given first aid, I greet him politely and offer him some apple juice. He takes the juice, smiling weakly but gratefully at me and starts drinking it.

I sit on a stool near him and clear my throat, indicating my intention to start a conversation. He looks up at me, waiting for me to say something but Rachel comes up and says, sounding irritated,"I've taken care of the bill. The doctor say he's free to go."

"You go ahead. I'll make sure he gets home safe after I buy him lunch.", I say to Rachel and then turn to the boy,"Sounds good?"

He smiles and nod while Rachel grabs her handbag and says,"Alright, I'll see you at the university. Rachel out!" I see her leave and then ask the boy for his name.

"Jacob. My friends call me Jake.", he replies.

"Jake, would you like a Subway sandwich?", I ask.

We sit with our sandwiches at a table of a crowded Subway restaurant and Jake starts to devour his Chicken Teriyaki sandwich as I begin to speak.

"So Jake, how do you know Mustafa?"

He stops chewing instantly and gazes at me. My eyebrows raise into a frown and he answers,"Umm, he's a friend."

"Friend. Hmm, I didn't know Mustafa had friends quite younger than himself."

"Yeah, we just happened to.. befriend each other."

"Then why was your friend hitting you?", I say with a stern face.

He chokes on his sandwich and replies, faking a laugh,"Hitting? Oh that was nothing. I had upset him over something and he lost his cool, that's all. We often fight things out. Makes things easier and clearer."

I nod, unconvinced by his answer but find it inappropriate to interrogate him any further. The one I should be questioning right now is my friend and not a stranger I found in an alley.