Birds of A Cage

"Between Order and Randomness"

PART ONE

MARIA

Sleep, like the devil, beckoned me but I fought to keep it at bay. Amped up on caffeine, I anticipated when the final tick of the wall clock would signal my release from mundane chores. It was 3:30. I had about half an hour left till my evening break.

It had been a long day filled with fake smiles plastered together in shallow swathes. Fatigued, I slipped into the laundry room hoping that a thirty-minute nap would be enough to revitalize me. Sadly, there was no couch to lie on in the room, just a chair stacked against a wall. I folded the same towel for the third time.

"Maria! Are you here?"

Dr Kenneth Awatoya popped into the laundry room. He was in his early thirties, slim, tall in a well-cut suit. He had a choirboy look expect for his glasses, which added a bit of intrigue. His rough black hair and beard had a military look about it. He wasn't what I'd call the most handsome man I had met, but beauty is subjective. I assigned degrees of beauty to those around me according to preconceived parameters extending beyond physical appearance. He was a beautiful man, inside and out.

"I'm here, Daktari. Have you been looking for me?"

He walked in with a smile and shut the door behind him. Ken owned the AMI clinic where I worked as the manager of housekeeping. He was a non-smoker, never tried drugs, and exercised daily. Nurse Naomi, a good friend, often said I suffered from the white knight syndrome and hence my attraction to him, but I disagreed. It was much more than that.

"I thought you left. I heard you were looking for me. Are you okay?"

"I'm fine."

Stuffing his hands into the pockets of his pants, he snickered. "Liar."

"I'm exhausted. I can easily pull off being a walking zombie, dead on the inside but subconsciously awake. I feel as though energy is being constantly drained out of me, as though I'm leaking electricity."

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing is wrong. It's been a crazy week. I wanted to confirm if you were still letting me leave work early."

"Do you need money?"

I never gave much thought to the notion of respect before I met Ken. Like how respect is more than passing pleasantries or nice words. That it takes an effort to look at the other and take in who they are and show them you regard them as a fellow human being. How it is listening without judgment, getting to know them with as few assumptions as possible. Since I began working for him, he changed my perspective of the world. He offered me a hand when no one else dared to and the last thing I wanted was to take advantage of him more than I already had.

"No. I don't need money."

Ken adjusted the rim of his glasses. "Then what?"

"Nothing."

"Maria."

My already rapidly beating heart picked up its cadence. His expression darkened as he squatted down to my level and rubbed his thumb across my cheek. His dark eyes drilling into mine. I couldn't help but think - I'd never seen such dark eyes with so much light in them.

"You know where to find me if you need to talk to someone, okay?"

I hated that all he felt for me was just pity. He grinned and for a few moments, the sight of a smile stretching across his face, changing his hard but utterly handsome profile caught me completely off guard.

"Of course," I said. "You're the first one I'll go to."

***

I stood at the edge of the Hilton hotel facing Mama Ngina street at 5 pm. The evening light struggled through the murky cloud, but even in its weakness, it was enough to blind. A large horde of people was headed home. Its impenetrable mass of humanity, worn faces who were always hopeful about another tomorrow.