Two months have passed, more exactly fifty one days. Life, surprisingly enough, has been good. The days have gone by in a blur, it's like every time I blink it's Tuesday again. I've not been doing much, just eat and age.
The apartment is a small one, but it makes up for size by being homely, with soft cushions, warm colours and beautiful motifs painted on the walls. From up here I watch, and can see the street below, and watch the people go about their businesses. Its something I do to kill time.
It's an eclectic mix of people, and very often I'm taken in by one oddity or another. A lady in a yellow sari passes by, accompanied by an older man with tattoos covering every visible inch of skin, except his face. The two are engaged in an animated discussion, I wonder what these two very different looking people could possibly have to talk about.
The clock by the door chimes four, my attention is quickly diverted from the strange couple. I begin to scan the throng of people, trying to spot a white haired lady in a pale blue uniform. She should have been here by now. Eventually I spot her, a stout figure in pale blue, walking briskly. In one hand is a bag containing groceries the other holds on to a beige coloured purse.
Ten minutes later and there's a jangle of keys, I do not wait for her to open the door, but rush to do so from inside. The white hair frames an ageing but beautiful face, the characteristic kindly smile makes an appearance as I take the bag from her. It is quite heavy, I should have gone to help her sooner.
"Welcome ma'am"
"Oh, I've told you to stop that and just call me Tessa. It is my name after all"
She had indeed said so, but I found it hard to do so. Where I'm from, it is almost criminal to refer to an elder by name. It was always ma'am or Sir. You didn't even get to know their names let alone call them by it. But to pacify her, I smile at her and nod my head in acquiescence.
Tessa was a kind lady i had met at the hospital, she was the nurse who had attended to me, and though I had never before met her, we immediately connected. I'm not one to immediately let people in but Tessa was different. It was like having a mother again. She made me feel safe and secure. When she first smiled at me, I truly felt the warmth of it. But she's long since become more than a kind nurse lady, I often think Tessa was...is my answered prayer. The silver lining. After the whole ordeal at the hospital, she had taken me in, and though I had not shared the finer details, she'd been kind enough to not press me, rather she took me in, fed, clothed and sheltered me.
Our relationship is in no way symbiotic, all I do is sit all day and watch people at their businesses. Tessa, always a dear, doesn't seem to mind. I'd since found out that Tessa is fifty eight years old, widowed. She had just one son, Michael. He lived in Brazil with his family.
She'd taken me in as an act of great kindness, but I suspect also because she was lonely. I'm more than happy to fill the void however I can. I still do not know what endeared me to her or her to me, of all the strays to pick, she'd picked me, right when I needed to be picked.
In the kitchen, I take out the groceries. There's bread, cheese milk and a brow cardboard box. I set that aside, not knowing what it is. Tessa comes in while I put the other items where they should be. She gestures to the box and say "this is for you"
"Me?" I ask. Silly, seeing as it was just the both of us, but I had to be sure.
"Open it"
"Okay..." tentatively I reach for the box, and take of the lid. Inside is a cake with the letters HBD boldly written in glossy violet coloured icing. The calligraphy is basic, nothing fancy, but the cake is white, so it makes for an interesting contrast.
"HBD?" I ask, not understanding.
"happy birthday. I didn't understand it at first too, but the man at the store said it was hip"
Happy birthday. I hadn't forgotten, today I turned twenty five. I'd expected the day to pass uneventfully like the others before, there was no reason for it be any different. I didn't dare dream of cake
"How did you know?"
"I have my ways" she declares in smug tone. I arch an eyebrow in response.
"Oh, ok I remember from when you were brought to the hospital, and we needed your information"
I stare at this woman before me, this very beautiful soul, who had done much for me, my arms reach around and hug her, "thank you" I say, my voice breaking at the end.
She pats me on the back saying softly "there there now, it was nothing. Just cake. There's wine in the cupboard. We should celebrate, one does not turn twenty five every day"
The cake is amazing, I can't remember the last time I had cake. The wine thankfully wasn't alcoholic. Alcohol never sat well with my stomach. Tessa tells me about her day, while we eat. The air is calm and salubrious. I feel even more connected to her now. This is a memory I'll never lose.
I'm seated at my usual position by the window, the next day, again watching the people at their businesses. A large slice of cake from yesterday beside me, I've always loved cake, taking little bites as I watch. There's wine too.
Right after the fourth bite, there's a knock on the door. I pause mid chew, and watch the door in puzzlement, no one ever knocks. Tessa uses her key to get in, and she doesn't have any friends. None that I know of.
The knock comes again. Whatever doubts I had had about it not being here were gone, someone was at Tessa's door. On tippy toes I get to the door, peeking through the peephole. Through the hole I see a lady, in a uniform of sorts, there's a package in her hand.
I decide that she's no threat, and open the door.
"good day"
" good day" I reply.
"I have a package here for Ms. Mofe"
"A package? Are you sure?"
"Yes, this is 3b, and it says here Ms. Mofe. I hope I'm calling that properly
"No, you're not. It is Mofe, and I'm she"
"please sign here"
I take the offered pen, and sign. Its not really my signature, just a random squiggle. I'm not about to affix my signature to this strange package I'm supposed to be receiving.The lady looks at the squiggle and then at me, I give a blank stare in return.
"have a nice day" she declares at last
"and you too"
It's a pretty large package, I wonder what could be in it. Just like the delivery lady had said, its indeed addressed to me. Right there is my name. The penmanship is just horrible, the wrapping paper though is beautiful albeit corny. The general theme was of love, there was cupid with his silly bow, and other similar depictions.
When I open the package, I find in it folded neatly a beautiful red dress, with sparkly gems. There's a note in the same messy scrawl "happy birthday, I hope you like the dress" I flip the card, there's no name written on it.
I run my fingers over the dress, it must have cost a fortune. Who could have sent this. But even before I think it, I know who it is. I remember the handwriting.
********
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A Barrel Of Angst
General Fiction"I never asked for this, I never asked to be a maid, and I most certainly did not ask to be Raped". Being an illegal immigrant in London, and an averagely educated one didn't give one more prospects than being a maid, but being a maid to a rich...
