Missing

by Mian Mohsin Zia

  “Hold on there,” Z interjected, as he realized what Faisal was about to say.

  “Sorry, but that’s our language, as it’s our daily routine. Maybe gentlemen like you aren’t used to such language.” Faisal stood up and said, “In the meantime, while the grilled chicken’s coming. Let’s walk and talk a bit.”

  If Faisal hasn’t seen Lena, and he’s so confident about that, then how and where shall I try finding her, Z thought as they walked in front of the graveyard.

  “What’s happened? You seem lost in your thoughts?” Faisal asked.

  “No, nothing,” Z said, as he spotted a rickshaw followed by a couple of motorbikes coming out from the graveyard, which surprised him. “How come they’re driving through the graveyard?”

  “Convenience. The graveyard reaches across from houses on one side to shops and businesses on the other. Because it’s convenient and saves time, people go right through the middle instead of taking the long route around,” Faisal explained as they walked on further. “By the way, don’t forget you’ve stunned Honey and made him feel special at the same time, so you have my word — any girl is free all night long.”

  “I’m only looking for this girl,” Z said, referring to Lena again.

  “Why her? That sounds like it’s really about something else.” Faisal sounded intrigued.

  “Her name’s Lena Volikova, and she’s missing.”

  “I see… so you thought she might be held captive, and with me being the King Pimp, I could get you to her. But what if I’m lying to you?” They walked back to the stall where they could see the covered food waiting for them on a table. “Come, let’s have some food first.”

  “What I heard is that you can do anything for money, and you never back out once you give your word. In my case, before I offered you money, you gave me your word, because you believe in the saying that a woman is known by her beauty and a man is known by his word. Your word is the reason you’re trusted and have been the head pimp for years without anyone opposing you,” Z said, as they sat down to eat.

  “You’re right. Even though I’m the King Pimp, I have some rules I follow, so my name’s up on the honor board and looked at with respect, even if I am a pimp. I’m proud to be one because I’m serving humanity,” Faisal said and took a bite of the chicken, “Luscious, but not more than a vag— Sorry!” He stopped as he realized he should sound decent.

  “You’d better be,” Z retorted.

  “Tell me everything in detail so I can understand your story, and if I can be of help, I certainly will. After all, you have Honey’s word,” Faisal said. Z told him about Lena and what he’d told Joseph, as well as their progress so far.

  “OK, that’s the whole story. Now just to add to your knowledge: there are several homes in this area that look normal from the outside, but in actual fact, they have a good supply. Even the neighbors don’t get to know about them, as everything operates smoothly, and no one is any the wiser. Otherwise, it would be difficult for them to operate in such a posh area. There are also massage parlors offering imported stuff, especially Chinese, but everything is done covertly.” Faisal burped as he spoke. “Tony, get us another lemon soda each.”

  “Not for me. I’m done. But you have it, and I’ll pay the bill,” Z said, as he took the wallet out from his jeans pocket.

  “No need for the bill. Every shop in the Faisal Town B-Block Main Market offers free stuff to Honey, as Honey gets them the best honeybees in the market whenever they want one.” Faisal chuckled. “Still, thanks, and I appreciate your gesture. In any case, I’d like to invite you to my birthday party tomorrow evening at 7. Here’s the address. It’s a farmhouse, a special place for exclusive guests, and of course for hosting parties and events like this,” Faisal said and chuckled as he handed over a business card from his shirt pocket.

  “Thanks, but I ain’t here to party,” Z countered as he glanced at the card.

  “Just come. All the girls in the business will be attending. You won’t get a better chance to see all of them together, and it’ll prove what Honey told you about Lena if you doubt Honey’s word,” Faisal said, touching Z’s shoulder.

  *******

  “I seek refuge in the light of Your face by which all darkness is dispelled. Everything is powerless without Your support.” Z petitioned after he’d offered his Asar prayer, the third obligatory prayer of the day in the Madni Mosque of C-Block, Faisal Town.

  Coming out of the mosque, he took out the cell phone he used locally from his jeans pocket and dialed a number.

  “Hello, Joseph Best here.”

  “Hello, Sir. Z here. I mean Zia. The one who came to report about Lena Vol— ”

  “Yes! Yes, I have your number,” Joseph interjected, confirming he recognized Z.

  “I just wanted to check progress.”

  “We’re on the job, and for your interest, we’ve spotted a couple of homes we suspect have suspicious activity. We’re watching them, so we’re one hundred percent sure before we take any action. Though they may not be related to Lena, at least we’ve spotted something. Rest assured, we’re at work and will get back to you once there’s any progress,” Joseph said in a tone suggesting he was feeling upbeat.

  He’s telling the truth as Faisal highlighted last night. It means they’re genuinely putting in some effort, Z thought as he listened. “Thanks! You can’t imagine how hard each passing day must be — not for me — but for Lena because she needs help,” Z said, sounding very concerned for her.

  “I can understand that. This is the best we can do when someone goes missing, but as already outlined, we need something conclusive, though that doesn’t seem to have happened yet.”

  “When a man thinks he’s reached a dead end, only then his trust in the Almighty ALLAH will show him a new path — one he never expected — and eventually get him to his destiny. And there’s a saying that goes something like this: if you’ve come this far, then you’ll get that far,” Z said to express his thinking.

  “I hope we do get that far if Lena is really missing here, as you say. In any case, thanks. Talk soon.”

  “Sure,” Z responded, as the call ended.

  *******

  Z was skipping in his hotel room when his Hype rang. He stopped and rushed to his laptop to check and found Marshal was calling.

  “Hi, Marshal.”

  “Hello, Z. What’s happening? Any progress?” Marshal asked.

  “Nothing much. Trying to prove Lena’s presence in Pakistan. Johnson was right.”

  “Yeah, I spoke with him, and he told me everything you two discussed over Hype.”

  “Just in case, if you don’t find me on Hype and there’s an emergency, you can call me on my US number, but I haven’t told anyone here about it, as Johnson advised. He has Lena’s number and my US number still on surveillance, hoping her number may get activated, or I might get contacted by her.” Z stopped to drink some water. “My local number could be risky, and I don’t want anyone contacting me on it, as it might be on surveillance by the local authorities, and we can’t afford to have anyone from the SIA indirectly involved.”

  “OK. Good luck.”

  “Thanks. Talk later. Bye for now.”

  “Bye,” Marshal said, ending the call.

  *******

  Z got out of the rickshaw, paid the driver, and looked at the farmhouse and its main gate. It was a party venue, so the guests were arriving. He approached the gate and was stopped by a security guard with a gun. Z showed him the business card Faisal had given him. On entry, he saw three large houses next to each other with a huge lawn out the front covered by a colossal tent decorated with fancy lights. Loud music was pouring out from the tent. He could see the red carpet leading to the tent’s entrance with lots of people around, especially women in traditional clothes, who didn’t have their faces covered. Most were wearing a traditional shalwar kameez with a dupatta, some with a full sleeve, some with a half sleeve, and some were even sleeveless. Some wore jeans and a t-sh
irt with a scarf.

  “Happy Birthday, Faisal!” Z said warmly when he spotted Faisal inside the tent, dressed in a blue blazer, black trousers, and a white shirt. His hair seemed to be gelled, and his face glowed as if he’d been to a beautician.

  “Thanks for coming and honoring me and this event, but you’re late! I just cut the cake,” Faisal grinned.

  “My shirt needed ironing, but there was a power cut,” Z said, as he glanced down at his black button-down shirt.

  “That’s why we’ve set up a generator, so there’d be no issue with power cuts while we celebrate all night tonight, starting fully clothed and ending up fully naked,” Faisal chuckled.

  “Come and dine before they finish off the food. They’re getting through it very quickly because they don’t get it for free very often,” Faisal said, pointing to the table where people were milling around and eating.

  “Then I won’t be staying all night. By the way, you’ve spent lots of money setting up this party. It’s done very aesthetically,” Z assessed, as he looked around at the setup.

  “Hahaha… do you actually think that I spent money on this setup from my pocket? No, no, no, my brother! Someone from another mother has done it for free. Honey only makes money,” Faisal said, as he pointed at the well-decorated round tables, the DJ playing the music, the fancy lighting and the buffet laden with food.

  “Like every year, all the arrangements were made by the shop owners, stall owners, and Market Association to oblige Honey, and you can understand why. At the end, when they want a vag— ”

  “Got it!” Z interjected as he could understand what Faisal meant, and at the same time, he spotted Alisha, who’d also spotted him.

  “All the city’s stuff is available and gathered here in one place, including females and shemales. No one dares to miss this party, as it’s in honor of the King Pimp, no matter if they’re independent or part of a network.” Faisal sounded proud, as he looked at the guests who seemed to be heartily celebrating as if it was a big festival.

  “Why do the independents have to attend?” Z asked in surprise.

  “Simple. For protection and networking. Independents pay a percentage from their earnings for permission to operate. They include women, even from banks, colleges, universities, and other walks of life, wanting to make some extra cash to cover their never-ending expenses. But in reality, I treat it as an annual get-together dinner, the same way businesses and companies have an annual dinner for their employees so they can get together. What could be better than such an event for our fraternity?” Faisal explained with pride.

  “I see,” Z said, as he tried to figure out what Faisal had just said.

  “You can look around, and if it’s necessary, you can show them Lena’s picture and ask about her, but I don’t think it will help. Being the King Pimp, as I’ve said, if I haven’t seen her, no one here would have either. But don’t forget! If you like any piece, then don’t be shy, as I still owe you one for free.” Faisal chuckled.

  Before Z could reply, a bunch of girls came up to Faisal, saying, “Honey, why don’t you sing that song you sang last year? It was great, and we’d love you to sing it for us again.” They sounded very excited, as they requested Faisal sing that particular song.

  “You know, Honey can’t ignore the wishes of his honeybees,” Faisal said, sounding like Casanova. “Let’s hit it,” he said, taking Z’s hand and guiding him along to the DJ. He said something in the DJ’s ear and held the microphone in his hands as the girls gathered in a circle around them, waiting for Faisal to sing. When people saw Faisal surrounded by the girls, those who were seated stood up and tried to get closer. Some even stood on their seats so they could see Faisal and the girls.

  Faisal looked at Z and winked, looking proud at the size of his following and the honor he’d been showered with. No matter that he was a pimp. He signaled the DJ to start the music, and wolf whistles were heard as Faisal began.

  I don’t care what people say about me

  But that girl can’t get a dollar without me

  I don’t care what people say about me

  But that girl can’t get a dollar without me

  I’m the one to have around when you want some fun

  I’m Faisal, the Super Cool PIMP in the town.

  Z watched while the girls swayed, and Faisal did too, with their hands up in the air. Some were trailing their dupattas and scarves in the air as they danced. Faisal held a couple of girls by their dupattas around their bodies.

  I don’t care how she performs in bed

  If missing her is what the clients dread

  She must be the one they demand

  The rest you can understand

  I’m the one to have around when you want some fun

  I’m Faisal, the Super Cool PIMP in the town.

  So he’d join in, some girls formed a circle around Z, who wasn’t dancing, but to no avail.

  I don’t care how much you spend on me

  Thanks for giving this honor and respect to me

  Letting me sing and dance with pleasure

  I’m indeed the one for you to treasure

  I’m the one to have around when you want some fun

  I’m Faisal, the Super Cool PIMP of the town.

  Faisal’s dance looked very cheap, just like his language.

  I don’t care what people think about me

  But that girl can’t survive without me

  I’m the one here to pick you up if you ever fall

  I’m the one to solve your problems big or small

  If you ever want someone, I’m the one to call

  Because I’m Faisal, the Super Cool PIMP in the town.

  His lines were very well received and applauded heartily. Z looked at Faisal, who had girls in his arms while they had Faisal in theirs one after the other, their dupattas and scarves swirling high while they danced. Z froze. Something had snared his attention. He tried getting rid of the girls around him and headed toward Faisal, who was still busy singing and dancing. Z stood next to him, while the girls had their arms around Z as well one after the other. But then Z looked shocked as if his eyes had caught something inconceivable.

  I don’t care what people say about me

  But that girl can’t get a dollar without me

  I don’t care what people say about me

  But that girl can’t get a dollar without me

  I’m the one to have around when you want some fun

  I’m Faisal, the Super Cool PIMP in the town.

  Z was galvanized by what his eyes had glimpsed. When Faisal finished, people were clapping, and some were wolf-whistling and ululating. Meantime, Z had located what had caught his attention. He seized the hand of one of the girls in the crowd.

  “Let go of me! What are you doing? It’s hurting!” A local girl of about twenty with a fair complexion and black hair in a top and jeans screamed, and everyone looked at her with Z holding her hand and checking out her scarf. Faisal spotted them too and came over. Before Faisal could say something, Z had satisfied himself, and questioned the girl with a stern look, “Where did you get this from? I said, where did you get this from?” as he held the scarf the girl wore.

  Before she could answer, Faisal intervened and asked, “What’s the matter, Amber?” A couple of well-built, tall men with dark complexions approached Z. Faisal waved a hand for them to stay where they were and looked at Z for an answer. Z noticed Faisal’s instruction to the men to back off.

  “This is Lena’s scarf. Here’s her name on it. This is a handwoven scarf with Lena’s name in Russian. See, here it is: ‘Lena Volikova.’ And I can show you pictures of Lena wearing this scarf and prove that it’s hers,” Z instantly reacted before Amber could, exuding confidence as he held up the scarf to Faisal and pointed at ‘Лена Воликова’ on it.

  Faisal looked at it carefully, and so did Amber and the others. Everyone wanted to glimpse the scarf and Lena’s name. Even though they couldn’t read it, they wa
nted to see someone’s name written in a different language — Russian, in this case.

  “This proves that Lena was here. Where is she? Where did you get this scarf? Tell me. Come on, tell me!” Z was insistent and stared right into Amber’s eyes.

  “Lena, who? I don’t even know any Lena. What are you talking about? I don’t understand what this is all about?” Amber was baffled, as she looked from Faisal to Z and back again.

  “If you think these men around you can protect you, then tell them to give it a try, but I ain’t going anywhere until you answer me,” Z’s steely assertion showed his intention. Everyone could see that he was up for it.

  “Amber, I already know everything about this… it’s OK. Either you do know Lena, or you don’t know her — that’s something we’ll ask you about later — but just answer his other question. Tell him where you got this scarf,” Faisal said, as he realized where Z was coming from.

  “I bought it from a secondhand clothing shop at Township Market,” Amber replied.

  “Which shop? When did you buy it?” Z immediately asked.

  “I… I can’t think exactly when I bought it. I’m usually in the markets — and other places — every day and night, and when I see something nice, I buy it. It hasn’t been long since I bought it. Maybe a week or two, and as far as the shop’s concerned, those who know Township Market, and the secondhand clothing shops there, know there are several shops and stalls like that. You visit them randomly while you’re going through the market. There are lanes and narrow passages with shops and stalls on either side. You move around, and when you spot something interesting, you stop and check it out. That’s how it works. It’s not like shopping in a mall,” she said as she looked at Faisal and the girls around for corroboration.

  “She’s right. You mustn’t have visited Township Market, but it’s a huge market with a dedicated section for shops and stalls offering secondhand clothing. Once you visit it, you’ll be in a better position to understand what she’s just said,” Faisal verified.

  “But I do remember that I bought it from a shop, not a stall… and I’ll recognize the shop,” she vouched.