Transcendental

1. Cairo Allard

1. Cairo Allard

Cairo Allard stared at the ceiling, listening to the sounds around him. He could hear his breathing, the intake and outtake of each breath. There was the noise of the heating and cooling system that was outside his bedroom window. The loudest noise he heard though – the one that pierced his ears – was the sound of his parents fighting. Again. It didn't matter what they were fighting about; there was always something. One fight had been about the fact that Mr. Allard had refused to wear the new tie that Mrs. Allard had bought him. Another was formed when Mrs. Allard asked her husband if a dress made her look fat and he was slow to answer. To sum it all up, Cairo Allard's parents were always fighting.

“Cai, are you awake?” There, standing in the doorway of Cairo's room was the twelve-year-old daughter of the Allards, Zaria. Her long, dirty-blonde hair fell in waves to her waist. She was clad in only a dark blue tank and short black shorts, one of her legs were tucked behind the other and her hands were joined behind her back as she looked to her brother. The light blue eyes of Zaria found Cairo as he sat up on his bed.

His large hands ran through his own blonde hair, his body protesting as he did so. He winced before looking at his sister with the same blue eyes. “Come here.” He told her as his lips turned up in a smile. Almost immediately, her face did the same and she made her way over to his bed quickly, hopping onto it and crawling into Cairo's arms.

“I wish they'd stop fighting.” She mumbled, wrapping her arms around Cairo's torso. 

His body tensed, but he only hugged his sister tighter. “I know, me too.”

This was a normal occurrence for the Allard Children; comforting each other as their parents argued. If it wasn’t such a hassle to do so in the New America, his parents would have divorced by now. However, under the new reign of Director Daray, that was illegal. In fact, so were adultery, cheating, and many other things the director thought ‘immoral’. Only thirty years had passed since Shyam Daray had conquered the countries of Mexico, the United States, and Canada. In Cairo’s opinion, the world still sucked even though the Director always talked of promises and a better world for all those who lived in his land. Possibly the only thing that had improved was the security. You couldn’t sneeze without the government knowing about it.

Long before Cairo was born, the countries of North America had been in great turmoil and unrest. Poverty spread everywhere, riots erupted, and the threat of war was constantly upon them – until Daray showed up. He claimed peace, but everyone knew he was backed by a large army willing to do his bidding. So, in a way, his take-over was peaceful as everyone gave up without a fight. Cairo still thought there was something strange about the white-haired man who hadn’t aged since taking power.

At last their parents finally stopped arguing and Zaria climbed off Cairo’s bed, but not without a threat to kill him if he told anyone that they had cuddled. She left to go to her own room. Her brother hardly moved from his spot. He folded his arms behind his head and stared at the ceiling until he finally dozed off into slumber.

xXXx

“Cairo! Table twelve needs their diet soda.”

“Coming right up, Mr. Adoeete.” Cairo murmured as he rushed to fill the order. He hated his job; hated it with a passion, in fact. The customers were horrid, his boss was an ass, and he never received the shifts he wanted. His co-workers were probably the worst of it though. All of them were the sons and daughters of Enrico Adoeete, the owner of the little cafe that Cairo Allard worked at. And all of them liked to rub it in Cairo's face that he was the runt of the work force there.

Cairo was not weak, however, quite the opposite, actually. He was well built, thick muscles covering his body. What did he use this for, though? Taking orders from anyone and everyone; from the school, his work, and his parents, not to mention the government. They were the only reason he had a career, lived with his parents, and went to school every day. So, tiredly he pulled out a cup from the cabinets and filled it half way with ice before pouring the brown liquid into the cup. It fizzed and popped as he carried it out of the kitchen to the table numbered twelve.

“Oi – waiter. We'd like some more coffee over here.”

Cairo looked at the pudgy man addressing him. “Right away, sir.” He told him calmly. Quickly he dropped off the soda at table twelve before hurrying into the kitchen to get the coffee. And so Cairo's day continued. The eighteen-year-old boy's life was anything but relaxing. He had his classes from early in the morning to mid-afternoon. Following that, he went to the lumberyard until evening. Then, it was working for Mr. Adoeete.

He could win “World's Worst Boss”. Cairo thought while he left his job. The stars were coming out as he pedaled down the street on his silver bike. One might say that he should probably take his time getting home to avoid his parents, but he knew better. If he stayed out longer than he should, Mr. and Mrs. Allard would start arguing over him. Besides, he would not dare leave his sister there to endure the fighting.

After placing his bike in the backyard, Cairo headed into the house. Zaria was staring at the television screen as an anchor woman on the news talked at a loud volume. It was custom to turn up the noise level in the house whenever their parents were arguing to drown them out. Without hesitation, Cairo plopped down on the couch next to his sister and pulled her close to him as he turned his attention to the television as well. She protested for a moment before rolling her eyes and resting her head on his shoulder.

“... Fia Thanos was a violin student studying at the Newman University until her recent disappearance. Authorities are still at odds trying to figure out what happened to the twenty-nine-year-old went off too. In other news, Mr. Figgs, the cat of-”

Cairo muted the television, the gears in his head working fast. “Do you remember Fia?” He asked his sister.

“Yeah, wasn't she our babysitter? When we were younger, I mean.” Zaria pulled her hair out of her face, tucking it behind her ear.

“Yes, that was her.”

Zaria looked as if she were thinking before she shrugged. “Strange.” She mumbled as she got up off of the couch and headed into the kitchen. There came the sound of cabinets being opened and closed as Cairo's younger sister made herself dinner.

Cairo's mind, however, was not easily put at ease. If it had been someone he had not known, he might have brushed it off after some mild sympathy. This was different, though. This was someone who had been in his life and that he had looked up to. In fact, it had been Fia who encouraged him to play the piano.

He stared at the screen as the woman continued to talk. The only thing that finally pulled him out of his thinking was the loud voices of his parents seeping through the walls. Cairo obliged to the distraction and turned the sound back on for the television just as Zaria returned to the room with freshly made sandwiches and chips. She handed one plate to Cairo before glancing at the television.

“Cairo,” Zaria said patiently. “Can you please change the channel? The news is depressing.” 

With a roll of his eyes, Cairo did as he was asked. He wished that he could so easily brush off things as his sister did, but found he couldn't. Eventually, after finding that the television was doing nothing to calm his nerves, he headed off to bed. As soon as his head hit the pillow, he was fast asleep.