A RISKY CHOICE

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"Next!"

A stunning lady walked onto stage. Muhsin waited. The lady started talking, her movements fluid, her gestures perfect. He knew that she had the part. She was going to make his upcoming film a success.That was what he did when he wasn't crawling around in some street or other...

"Honey! Honey! Am home." His wife came running from the lounge.

"Oh my God! It's huge!"

"What do you expect? Am seven months pregnant, remember?"

"Where are the kids?"

"Hey Dave! Collins! Daddy's home!"

The children came down trotting all way to the dining room.

Muhsin sat down at the table with no words just watching the kids, not really hearing them. He was deeply in thought. Something was surely wrong and Shamim was quick to realize that. She ate, keeping her eyes on her husband who by now had not yet touched his food. The children ate hurriedly as they were getting late for school. Shamim came closer to her husband. She startled him when she grabbed his hand. "How's the food?"

"It's really delicious."

"Muhsin, what's wrong? What's bothering you? Of late, you have not been the guy I knew. You haven't even tasted food yet. I require answers please." She was starting to lose her voice. I am here for you and have always been." She started sobbing.

Muhsin stood from his chair and walked towards hers. He took her hand and she squeezed his acknowledgement. He wrapped his other arm around her, released his hand and used it to caress her face. He lifted her chin bringing her eyes to his. They locked in tight embrace, the silence between them growing awkward. Then the awkwardness left, leaving a sense of warmth in both of them. They needed no words, their eyes spoke for them, that moment said it all. His eyes assured her that everything was alright, and for a moment, she felt a feeling of hysterics engulfing her.

 "Daddy! We are getting late for school," the children said in unison. "I'll be right down there.... Just looking for the car keys," came the reply. Muhsin gave his wife a goodbye kiss and rushed to the garage. He started his 'expired' car. It had worn out, breaking down every twenty miles or so. It was something he could not let go off though as it was part of him. Passed on from generation after generation with every owner thinking that its heir might fix it but thoughts always remain thoughts. The best part was that, the children never got to see the car. They knew daddy had a wonder car but never showed them. This was it. It was going to be the first time they see daddy's car. Muhsin came driving his 1994 Honda which turned the children's excitement into a dull moment. Looking at the vehicle, one might think it was indeed stolen from the scrap yard. 'Daddy, I thought you said you have a car. This doesn't resemble one,' protested Collins.

 Muhsin felt so bad and decided to ask his neighbor for her car. He knocked on the door and finally, a lady in her mid-twenties came donned only in blue silk brassier and polka dotted knickers. Muhsin lost himself for a while there until his youngest daughter Emily poked him in the back trying to maybe remind him, he is married. 'Hey am sorry to bother you this beautiful morning but I kinda had trouble with my car...'expired car,' the children interrupted "...and I wondering whether I could use your vehicle to take the kids to school.' "Definitely." She said deep craters forming on her cheeks. The children squeezed themselves at the back as it was a five-seater which had no front passenger seat. The father of six heading to seven stepped on the gas pedal and off they went.

Shamim was used to being alone most of the time. Her husband never told her where he worked and was always worried when he came home late. He told her that it was too confidential for anyone to know. She kept nagging him all the time but with time decided not to care as long as he did his 'duties' as a husband. There was one time she had threatened him with divorce if he didn't tell her where he worked. That however, did not work as he got too emotional and that made her regret uttering those words. These were two people whose marriage was declared in heaven even before they were born. Not even their most heated argument ended without a reconciliation. They needed each other and that was for a fact.

The children waved goodbye to their daddy as they ran to their respective classes. The day was gloomy as the sun had refused to fly out of its nest. Muhsin drove back home. When he arrived home, the place oddly quiet. No one was at home. He went from room to room hoping to find someone. Shamim was not there. She did not call to say she was leaving. Something was not right. He found a hurriedly written note and picked it up.

I have her. Come and get her... if you dare. 556-Brookney

Borris

The note sent alarming thoughts in Muhsin's mind. His wife had been kidnapped.

"911 what's your emergency?"

"My wife...she ... she has been kidnapped"

"calm down. Okay? What's your name sir?"

"Muhsin. I live in 4112 12th avenue Routtǽ."

"Thank you. Officers are on their way. Keep calm sir."

He called Sophia to ask if she could sit the house until the police arrived. She was their neighbor, their friend; he trusted her. He gave her all details she needed to know. Dressed in a black suit, he grabbed his gun, loaded it and marched out. Whatever he did, he had to get her back.

The Boka Institute was a bee-hive of activities. Phones rang from every direction. Mrs Webber, the director, answered her office phone. "Agent Duka!"

"Hey Webber, I need some help..."

"What's wrong?"

"It's Shamim... She's gone!"

"Gone? Where?"

"I... I... I don't know."

"What do you mean by 'I don't know'?"

"It has to be connected to Borris...somehow. I'm going after him"

"Okay Agent Duka listen... Duka... Duka! Oh no!" Webber stood rooted to the ground, the phone in her hand. Her legs were numb, her throat dry. Her mind swirled away to Duka; to their encounters. They rarely met physically, but when they did, she always felt a chill down her spine, freezing her, choking her...

The rain pounded on the school walls. Muhsin walked down the hallway. He knew that John was waiting. He walked forward, his face down. Just a few more steps...

"Hey 'junk', pay up!"

He knew that voice. Borris. Muhsin raised his head, his face a few inches from Borris'. A hard slap fell on his cheek. His ears were ringing. Before he could react, he was off his feet. He felt the cold locker metal against his face. His mouth gaped. He tasted it. Blood. His blood. No. he could not let Borris get him, not today. Muhsin spun wildly, striking Borris hard on the jaw. They locked eyes, each aware of the other's strength. Muhsin broke the silence. He entered the bathrooms, ignoring the piercing stares coming from every direction. Now, almost twenty years later,