Mama, It’s Already Maghrib, Where are Your Teenage Daughters?

Razak gestured to the old lady in red, his puckered smoker’s lips forming a sharp arrow.
   Put a lid on Shirley Temple, Mama.

Mama immediatley cupped her right hand over the young girl’s pie hole, closing it tight.
   You’re annoying the customer. Shut up.

The girl squirmed in protest, but her muffled cry fell on the deaf ears of a horny man.
   How old is this one? Will she take it in the mouth?
   She will take it anywhere, don’t worry.
   I don’t want any trouble, Razak. I just want it done with quickly and quietly.
   You know me, man. Don’t worry ‘bout a thing.
   Give me the back room. And put an extra towel for the girl.
   I’ll inform Mama on that. You wait here for a sec.

Razak pulled Mama by the arm to the back and they silently argued over the money.
   He worked hard to pull in the big fish, so he should get more than half.
   She countered that the bait was hers and he should get less than forty.
   He threatened, saying he won’t find any more high-end customers for her.
   She wasn’t scared. Her girls are all good merchandise in very high demand.
   He hit her across the face with the back of his hand.
   She nearly fell onto the floor, but her knees resisted.
      She froze in mid-fall.
   He reminded her of who started this goddamn business in the first place.
      She folded. Wilted.
   He pulled her up and asked whether she had any more issues to settle.
      She shook her dizzy head.
   He slipped a few notes into her cleavage and told her of the customer’s needs.
      She proceeded to the back room.

Meanwhile.
   The customer stared at the young girl like he wanted to eat her for lunch.
   The girl shivered.
      She had seen that vile stare before.
      Uncle Razak had once stared at her the same way, too.
         When she was thirteen.
         When he came to take her away from the orphanage.
      That was the day Uncle Razak first gave her that sweet Cola drink.
         That made her sleepy and lifeless almost immediately.
         That made her wake up from bed sweaty, tired and dirty.
      She remembered the pain and blood that would come afterwards.
   The girl looked away in distress.
   The customer stared and smiled.

Mama appears from the kitchen with a cup of sweet Cola in her hand.
Seeing this, Razak beckons to the waiting customer and the young girl.

There is nothing that you can do now but pray:
      that the world ends soon
      and the bad guys die.