Three wishes and a fairy godmother

chapter eleven

He dragged his eyes from Kyle's neutral expression and looked around his environment. He side eyed Kyle and asked. "I don't get it. Don't you have somewhere to be?"

"Well,not exactly." He replied with a shrug,arms poised behind him.

Is he expecting me to invite him in? Chika felt his expression morph into a scowl at the thought of it. Getting straight to the point, he addressed Kyle with a clipped tone. "You need to go. I am not inviting you in."

"Figured."

"So go." Chika all but grounded out,frustration and anger gnawing at him. He jabbed his index finger at Kyle, his words coming out hard. "We're done here. Thank you for the pleasant night, Kyle. And-oh-before I go, I want you to know that you did not help at all. So yes, thanks for nothing."

With that, he walked away from a dejected looking Kyle. As he trekked the few seconds to his little hut, he felt a tug in his chest he ignored. Pushing aside the flimsy curtain hanging on the doorframe, he stepped over the threshold and sluggishly made his way to the one bedroom he shared with his mother.

His chest felt constricted and painful. He rubbed it furiously. His wayward anger had abandoned him, leaving him seriously weak and deflated. He couldn't for the life of him recall what he was so upset about. And he couldn't ignore the fact that he indeed,wanted to invite Kyle in. A part of him knew the state of his house just wasn't the reason but more so an excuse. Kyle wasn't judgemental. He felt exceptionally comfortable with Kyle when he wasn't giving unsolicited advices claiming it was his job. He exhaled, deeply troubled by his thoughts,he almost didn't notice what was happening in his shared bedroom. Almost. He quietly made his way inside,standing adjacent to bed.

Hearing the soft sobs first,his eyes narrowed down to the shape of his mother on the bed. Her appearance made him frown further. With the help of the lantern placed on a small stool near the bed, he could almost make out the outline of her bones jutting out in unfamiliar angles. She was dotted on the bed,her shoulders hunched and shaking violently. The end of her old night dress bunched in her fists,serving as a tissue to her eyes. On his mother's left was one of their neighbors,Miss Pat;clad in her wrapper,comforting her.

"He'll be here soon." She assured his mother.

"How soon Pat?" His mother's voice wobbled. "Sometimes I think he's ashamed of me."

"Why would he? He wouldn't,silly."

"But why else would he act like this?" She sniffed,her voice clogged with tears. "He's ashamed of me because I'm sick. There is no other reason!"

"Christina..."

"...and he buys me drugs,money he could use for school. We barely talk anymore. I've failed him."

"Christina!" Miss Pat chastised so sharply that Chika flinched. She drew in loud breaths before addressing a wide eyed Christina in a slow manner. "You...er...it's not your fault. It really isn't, I guess."

The pitiful excuse of comfort or reassurance or whatever Miss Pat had intended to offer to his mother definitely proliferated the accurate reaction. Christina's face crumpled in resignation and hurt. She hugged herself tightly, tears streaming down her cheeks. Her voice quivered as she whispered to herself trancelike.

         "Oh Pat. He has not been home for a week. A week! This is the longest he's ever been out. He doesn't look at me when he's around and goes out as quickly as he comes. I really wish I could help....to be of more help to him. We used to be much better...I..just maybe we could....I miss him!" Her voice grew quieter with each word she uttered. Now she weeps silently, meaning her ill health had gotten to her.

Her friend Pat,rolled her eyes and shook her head wistfully with the air of having done it so many times, as she rubbed awkward circles on her neighbor's back.

Chika's chest constricted with the effort to function. An unforgiving chill crept up his body,his eyes glimmered with hot,angry tears. His lips curved ugly as he fought to control the urge to speak out.  To do something. To reach out to his mother to...do something. But they still could not see him. To add salt to wound, he felt the hair at the back of his head erect as his mother broke into hysterics. He angled his head to the bedroom door. Kyle was watching him.

His fists curled tight by his sides, a turmoil of emotions swept through him. He felt like a mascot, in between a sick mother and a judging spectator. Unable to take it any longer, he hurried out of the house,fist in mouth.

He knew the tears were coming even before he felt them. Tasted them. He willed his legs to move faster, eager to get away from the dirt clad environment. Tears blurring his vision, he stumbled many times, picking himself with more misery than when he felt only a few seconds ago. He turned a corner and soon found himself by the side of a tiled road.

The wet morning breeze and the light colorful blue sky did nothing but worsen his temperament. Tucking his hands in his pocket, he continued his self deprecating walk with no destination in mind. He looked up at the sky which was becoming clearer with the sun slowly rising. He traced the outlines of buildings in the far distance until his vision was nothing more than opaque dots. His thoughts betrayed his need to stay unaffected. Raising his palm to his face, he silently cursed himself, which did anything but soothe him.

Suddenly and without warning, Someone grabbed his elbow and half dragged him forward. He looked up to Kyle's scrunched up featured and opened his mouth to protest but on  rare second thoughts, instantly swallowed them down. Listlessly, he stared at Kyle's head and followed him.