The Imposter: KAZMIR
I was on my way back from work when I thought I should treat my wife right one last time.
Hopin’ down from the car after parkin’ it in the lot of a restaurant I don’t own, I led my way through the door of the entrance and walked to one of the branches where food was sold.
“Hello. Good day.”
Seein’ who I was, the waiter stopped attendin’ to the others who had come before me.
“Meet someone else to fix your meal for you,” she said to them and they moved: some murmured and some didn’t. “What do you want to get, sir? Self or family?”
“Myself and my wife,” I explained to the woman who gave a nod. “Rice would do. Is there coleslaw?”
“Oh, yes,” she nodded and set to work while I continued with my order. As soon as I was done, she looked up and asked. “Is that all, Mr. Draven?”
Noddin’, I mouthed.
“Yes, exactly. I’ll be waitin’ at that table.” I said and was gone from her sight, settlin’ on one of the tables in the space as I made sure she knew where I was. After a while of waitin’, my orders arrived. I thought ’bout it and changed my mind, decidin’ to eat here before takin’ these home.
Even if it was a small portion, I just had to and this was ’cause of how hungry I had become in a short while.
“Dish and serve another plate,” I ordered. “Same order please.” I added and the woman, with a smile on her face, which I didn’t know if it was Professional or genuine, or even seducin’, turned around and walked away. The next time someone showed up at the table, it was another worker who happened to be a man.
“Here you go, sir,” he bowed before placin’ the plate on the table. “I am a huge fan of Mrs. Draven. She paints so well and I’ll love her to paint me, even though I know I speak nonsense.” He bowed and turned around, turnin’ around to face me once more. “Is there somethin’ else I should serve you?”
“N-no, not at all,” I waved ‘im off and he walked away. After a moment, I dived into the meal. Once in a while, I’ll look up and meet the gaze of the woman who should have served me. She was all smiles and I wondered why she looked at me like that. It was becomin’ so uncomfortable and I snapped my fin’ers, ready to abandon the rest of the meal on the plate and lead my way out of the space.
“I want my bills.”
Turned out it was the man who served me that came back to the table.
“I want my bills.”
I said again and he bowed before turnin’ around and walkin’ away. The next time he came back, he was with the bills. I took my card out of my pocket and handed it over to ‘im who operated on the money machine.
“Thank you.”
My hand reached the nylon bag and I picked it up, ready to return to the house where the woman I am married to, stayed.
Somethin’ caught my attention and I stopped in my tracks. My gaze turned, and I looked in the direction of one of the tables where a human was seated. It was one woman, coverin’ her head with a scarf but there was somethin’ ’bout her face.
“Nyssa.”
What was Nyssa doin’ in the restaurant I came to?
I walked towards the table, smilin’ and confused at the same time. She was dressed in clothes I had ne’er seen before which bothered me greatly. “Baby. What-” I was sayin’ but this woman jumped on her feet and walked out of the space, causin’ me to clutch the nylon bags tightly and walk in the same direction as her.
“Stop there. Nyssa! I am talkin’ to you.”
She was gone from my sight.
How was that even possible?
Why didn’t I watch it clearly?
How could I even watch when she was faster than me which was unusual? And there were many people in and out of the restaurant.
What was goin’ on? I took out my phone and looked at the screen. It was too late and Nyssa shouldn’t be out at this time.
Did she come to stalk me?
Where was she?
She was goin’ to meet me at home, most definitely. At the thought of this, I hopped in the car and dumped the nylon bag on the back seat.
The key was fixed in the ignition and I started my trip back home. While on the road, I had many thoughts runnin’ around in my head. In less than an hour, I was parked at the gate of the apartment. Hoppin’ down to do what I always did, I drove into the compound, locked the gate, and started my journey to the lot after which I hopped down, anger, confusion, and uncertainty written on the countenance of my face.
“NYSSA!”
Catchin’ up with the entrance of the apartment, I shouted as I walked in. “Show yourself at this moment and stop playin’ games I don’t want to play with you. Can you hear me?!”
There was no answer.
Not anyone.
What was she tryin’ to do?
I shut the door, locked it, and walked towards the stairs. She was not back, obviously.
There was no way she would get into the compound or even the house when the door was locked. This way, I would catch her red-handed and she would let me know where she was comin’ from.
Walkin’ into the space, there was a figure lyin’ on the bed. It was Nyssa.
In confusion, I reached her side and tapped her gently. “Are you ready to tell me what you’re doin’ out at this time of the night? Do you think I’m cheatin’ on you? Is that why you stalked me in a very horrible way?” My words woke her up and she sat up, wipin’ her face with one of her hands.
“Wh-what are you talkin’ ’bout, Kazmir? I’ve been home all day and didn’t step out for one moment to do a thing. What do you talk ’bout?”
“Don’t you dare play games on me, Nyssa.” I cried, pacin’ the room. “Is this your way to call me a crazy person? Are you sayin’ I don’t know what I’m talkin’ ’bout? How dare you?”
“Kazmir!” Standin’ on her feet, she shouted. “I didn’t leave this house! What are you talkin’ ’bout?!”