"So, Izzy, you really like my farts?" Nabila Yassin said softly, and the young Yemeni Muslim woman looked at her lover Ismail "Izzy" Machar, as they sat inside the Starbucks located across the Ottawa Main Library on Metcalfe Street. It was a frosty Tuesday morning in mid-November in downtown Ottawa, Ontario, but inside the small, trendy café, things were definitely heating up for a certain pair.
Nabila smiled to herself, and looked heavenward, or in this case, toward the crowded café's ceiling. I have finally found a man who likes me for me, Nabila thought happily. A year ago, Nabila met the future love of her life under unique, if embarrassingly funny circumstances. Looking back, the whole ordeal had been quite amusing, even though she definitely did not think so at the time...
Nabila had gone to Carleton University on that fateful Monday morning feeling particularly stressed. It was the start of her fourth year in the Criminology programme at Carleton and with the LSAT looming, she had a lot on her mind. A meeting with Mr. Noel her academic advisor the previous Friday revealed that she wasn't doing too well in her core classes, which was something she'd have to compensate for if she wanted to graduate with honors. Oh, and it was also her birthday, but ain't nobody got time for that!
Staying up all night Sunday to study for her criminology classes led to Nabila oversleeping, and the young woman ended up skipping breakfast in order to make it to her 8: 30 A.M. Criminal Justice Systems class. Exiting class at 11: 30 A.M. Nabila lined up behind all the other peons inside the University Center building's Tim Hortons, hoping to grab a tasty egg sandwich and hash browns before they stopped serving breakfast.
"Fuck, I don't feel too good," Nabila said to herself after finishing her breakfast. Rising from her chair, the young woman headed to the elevators, intent on reaching the U.C. building fourth floor, and she sighed happily as the elevators closed. Alone at last ( or so she thought ) Nabila finally did something she'd been wanting to do for a little while now. Sighing happily, Nabila cut loose...and farted.
Ismail 'Izzy' Machar was on his way to the special presentation of the South Sudanese Students Club in the Atrium when he saw an elevator about to close. Rushing in, he barely made it before the doors closed...and soon wished he hadn't. For a certain tall, chubby, Hijab-wearing Arab gal let loose a thunderously loud fart. Gasping in shock, Izzy looked at the wide-eyed young woman, who stared at him, as if he shocked her, instead of the other way around.
"Um, okay," Izzy said hesitantly, and Nabila looked at him sheepishly. I did not just fart in an elevator right next to this dude, she thought to herself as she looked at the big and tall, dark-skinned and well-dressed African guy who stood in front of her. The young woman smiled, and then, without warning, she actually burst out laughing, much to the bewilderment of the man sharing the young elevator with her.
"Aw, shucks, I am so sorry, brother, I ate something that didn't agree with me," Nabila said, in an apologetic tone. The young man stood there, and looked at her as though she had two heads. I must seem like a weird woman to him, Nabila remembered thinking at the time. The young man's reaction to her, though, was definitely not what Nabila was expecting...
"It's alright, sister, you're human, these things happen," the young man replied, and he smiled and nodded. Nabila looked at him, and was about to say something when the elevator doors opened. They'd reached the fourth floor, and the always busy, perennially crowded Atrium beckoned. Nabila hesitated, and the young man nodded, gesturing for her to exit first.
"Thank you brother," Nabila said quietly. Nodding, she exited the elevator, followed by the tall, dashing brother. Nabila watched as her victim/elevator co-rider cut through the Atrium, and went to join some colleagues of his. This has got to be the most embarrassing experience of my adult life, I hope this brother doesn't think too badly of me, Nabila thought, as she hurried past the handsome, dark stranger and his colleagues.
"You got it, Nana, what can I say? I love that big butt of yours and everyone to do with it," Izzy replied, flashing her that smug, fearless smile of his. Nabila blinked as Izzy's deep masculine voice snatched her out of her little trip down memory lane. Leaning back in his chair, he licked his lips, a gesture which sent a pleasant thrill down Nabila's spine. Passersby looked at the seemingly mismatched young couple, and some seemed genuinely puzzled to see them together. Nabila and Ismail came from different worlds, to say the very least.
Izzy cut a dashing figure in his crisp white silk shirt which contrasted sharply with his mahogany-hued skin, dark red tie, and black silk pants. He'd gone to the South Sudan Liaison Office on Stewart Street to renew his passport, and was thus dressed to the nines, as they say. Nabila, who wore a simple Khimar scarf, which covered her hair, neck and shoulders, over a long-sleeved dark blue T-shirt, ankle-length black skirt, and black leather boots, almost felt underdressed next to her beloved Izzy.
"Don't call me Nana," Nabila teased, and she grabbed Izzy's hand and pinched it, and he just laughed it off. Ismail looked at her and grinned, and then pulled his cell phone out of his pocket. No pictures, Nabila thought with alarm, and blessedly, Izzy didn't take any shots of her. He spoke in Dinka, the Nilotic dialect spoken by the majority of the South Sudanese people. Nabila only knew a smattering of Dinka, which Ismail had taught her early in their relationship...
"Die nyar ( my lady ), I am in a lot of shit," Izzy said softly, as he turned off his cell and put it back in his pocket. For a brief moment, there was a hollow, haunted look on his dark, handsome face. As quickly as it came, the look vanished. Izzy's golden brown eyes narrowed, and he took Nabila's hands in his, and gently lifted them to his lips. Nabila smiled, for his mustache tickled her skin when she brushed against it.
