in bloody pen.
I glanced over my shoulder. Ian stood there, hands on hips. Glaring at me. I didn’t like it. And I also didn’t like the fact that other people had started to gather around him too. They all looked at me. I looked back at them and something unsaid passed between us all. A challenge!
I licked my finger very slowly and pointedly. A few people recoiled, but I wasn’t going to let their disgust deter me. I turned back to the piece of paper and rubbed my wet finger over my name. Still nothing. I turned and looked at everyone, but this time they all seemed to be smiling. Bastards!
I turned back and, with my nail, started ripping at the paper, trying to rub my name off by pulling at the paper itself. All that did was make a total mess, as wet fibers curled up. But my name was still there despite this. I rubbed harder, and harder and . . .
“Oh shit!” The paper fell off the board and tumbled to the floor like a leaf. I stared at it for a while. I could hear a low-toned grumble around me, and looked up. This time everyone was looking at me with blatant disapproval. Shaking their heads and tutting loudly. I looked at Ian. His hands were to his chest, fingers splayed dramatically, mouth gaping open for added effect. He was acting as if he’d just witnessed some horrible crime. And then Samirah’s face caught my attention: she gave me a worried head-shake and then her eyes darted down to the paper and she blinked several times, as if trying to communicate something to me.
A movement to my side made me turn to see Mark emerging from the crowd. He had a strange look on his face and I had no idea what he was thinking. Harun followed Mark out the crowd and then walked right up. Not to me though, to the piece of paper at my feet.
He bent his head and picked it up gently between his teeth. He gave me a disapproving look with his eye and then walked over to Ian and fucking handed it to him!
“You’re kidding!” I threw my hands in the air and shook my head. This dog! This dog was basically ruining my life.
Ian reached down and took the paper from him tentatively, as if he was afraid that those teeth could nip him on the hand. (I wished they would.) He shook the paper, straightened it out and brought it up to his face. He then turned it around triumphantly and held it up in the air for everyone to see.
“Name is still visible,” he said, glaring at me. I shook my head at him as he shot red, hot lava at me out of his big blue eyes. I could see that this had become a matter of pride for him. He probably didn’t want me in his big production, but you could see that he was going to force me to do it, hell or high water!
Our eyes locked and he smiled at me. Self-satisfied, as if he had won.
#pissed
CHAPTER 53
“Nothing to see here, folks!” Samirah took my elbow and led me away quickly. “Frankie is more than happy to play Margaret the Jackal Slayer in this year’s spring festival,” she added and then nudged me in the ribs. Hard.
“Owee,” I winced.
She nudged me again. “What do you say?” she said, glaring at me.
I nodded, against my will. “Sure. Sure,” I told the crowd as Samirah hurried me off to the corner of the room.
“Well, that was weird,” I said, when I was away from it all.
Samirah stood in front of me and shook her head, and soon Faizel was by her side. Also shaking his head.
“What?” I asked them both.
“We take this thing very seriously,” Faizel said. “You can’t refuse a place in this festival. It’s the most important event in this town. We are very proud of this place and this is the way we show it, and now you’re a part of it too.”
“I’m a part of it?” I asked, taken aback.
“Well, you live here now,” Samirah answered.
“I . . . I . . .” It dawned on me. Like it hadn’t dawned on me before. I lived here now. I, Frankie Paulson, was a part of something. Something real. Something that wasn’t on Reddit, or Facebook. The thought suddenly, inexplicably, warmed my heart a little. But still . . .
“You still shouldn’t