Mikaal

35: Mikaal

"Dalia!"

Someone had called her name, but their voice was distant. Dalia's eyes were closed; she wondered if a dream was about to start.

"Dalia, wake up!"

It was a guy's voice, louder the second time.

A moment later, the voice had stopped. Dalia could hear herself breathing in her quiet room as her befogged mind battled with cognisance.

"Dalia, get up right now!"

Another voice called her this time, a woman's voice, middle-aged perhaps, her tone of annoyance evident.

"Dalia, first you don't buy the tomatoes and now you're skipping dinner when I've gone to the trouble of cooking!"

Dalia flinched in her bed in recognition of the voice's owner. Her eyes blinked open as she rolled over to her side.

Her mother stood at her open doorway; her face looked like a dried tomato.

"I've spent all this time cooking something else because of your mistake; you haven't had to lift a finger and now you're not even eating!" She continued to shout from outside Dalia's room as she had practised many times.

"Okay, okay," Dalia said, her voice croaking like a frog. She exaggerated her effort to get herself up, glad to see her mother's back.

Dalia sat on her bed, powering up her phone to check the time; she had napped for two whole hours. She rubbed her eyes then shook her head; a small smile tugged at her lips. As much as her mother's severe words irritated and provoked her anger, she had grown to understand her mother's unique way of expressing love and concern for their wellbeing.

The smell of roast chicken and vegetables wafted up to Dalia's nose as she approached their glass, rectangle table. Dalia pulled out a chair in front of an empty plate that had been set for her; she picked up her fork and knife and cut off a drumstick.

"So get this, when we had our first meeting with the guy, his leg was bandaged and he was complaining about the pain. He went on about how he has a family to feed," Daveth said, his face animated as he continued the story about a client suing the company his law firm was defending for worker's compensation. "Literally a week later, we got surveillance of him kicking a footy with his son in the park! In a public place!"

"How could he be so stupid!" their mother said.

"Exactly!"

"How could he lie so easily?" her father added.

Dalia's fork stilled on the roast eggplant she was about to pick up; the mention of 'lying' struck a nerve. At least it reminded her that she had to ask about the hospital; it was just a matter of finding the right opportunity. "What happened next?" she asked Daveth.

"Well, obviously the case was closed." Daveth rolled his eyes, ignoring Dalia's dirty look.

"You should've done law, Dalia. It's a real career with good pay. People look up to lawyers. Look at your brother; every day is interesting."

"Yes, look at me; you might learn something."

Dalia groaned out loud. Any opportunity to question her career decision, her mother took it. "Mum, I've already told you, I'm - "

"But where is a Bachelor of Science going to get you? At least do a PhD."

"We've been through this..." Dalia looked at her father for support.

"It is your last semester," he said gently. "You need to think about what you're doing next year."

"Dad..."

"Has uni started yet?"

Dalia shook her head.

"Look at Nina," her mother went on, "she's the same age as you and already has a job interview at an accounting firm. She was smart when she chose a career."

Dalia's grip of her fork tightened at the mention of her perfect cousin; she shoved a roast potato in her mouth and chewed irritably. Dalia kept her eyes downcast, hoping the conversation would turn if she stopped participating.

"People need accountants, but science, what do scientists even do?"

Daveth laughed and opened his mouth, but before he had a chance to add to their mother's blows, Dalia stood up and stalked to the fridge.

"Very mature Dalia!" Daveth's voice boomed after her.

'Oh my God!' Dalia screamed in her head. 'When will they stop!' She took several deep breaths and poured herself a glass of mango juice. She took her time sipping the cool, creamy liquid, glad for the calming effect of its sweetness that tantalised her taste buds. When her body had cooled down, she returned to the dining table.

Daveth and her mother were quiet when she drew near; her father must have said something. About to take her seat, the mental and physical exhaustion from the day returned, overwhelming her. Dalia placed a hand on the cold surface of the table edge for support.

"Are you sick?" her father asked, a look of concern passing over his face.

Dalia sat down. "Somewhat..."

Her father frowned. "You are sick?"

"Yes, but I don't know what's wrong with me."

"What do you mean?"

Dalia seized the opportunity and said, "Mum, Dad, do you remember how I was in hospital December last year? Which hospital was I in?"

There was a distinct pause around the table; the clank of forks and knives against ceramic plates came to a halt. "Why?" her mother asked.

'Why?' Flustered, Dalia didn't reply immediately. "You don't remember?"

Her mother frowned. "I don't want to remember," she said, her voice stubborn.

Not deterred, Dalia continued, "You said I hit my head really hard, on concrete was it, after I fainted?"

"That was a horrible time." Her mother's face had gone pale. "You don't understand what it's like..."

"But I've been forgetting things - "

"Dalia," her father interjected, placing a hand on her mother's shoulder. "Can't you see your mother's upset?"

"But I thought it wasn't serious."

"You were still in hospital. Can you imagine what it's like to get a call from the hospital about your daughter almost - "

Dalia's mother touched her father's hand.

"Okay, fine, we don't have to discuss it. I just need to know which hospital."

"We can't remember," her mother said dismissively.

Dalia frowned. Was her mother speaking for everyone now? She turned to Daveth who usually couldn't keep his mouth shut but he had conveniently turned mute. "None of you remember?"

"Why is remembering so important? Do you want to end up there again?" her mother asked, her face twitching with emotion.

"Off-course not! Like I've been trying to tell you, I've been forgetting things, and - "

"It's normal to forget things," her mother interrupted again, her face resolute that the discussion was over.

Dalia's eyes darted from mother to father then to Daveth, each solemnly focussed on finishing their meal. What was going on?

Defeated, Dalia stabbed a piece of sweet potato that lost its taste in her mouth, more perplexed than before she had asked her one simple question.

---

Hello hello

I don't know what to say sometimes when I get here except, thank you thank you for your votes and support! 

Ooh, I'm thinking about entering Wattys this year - I'm not sure if I qualify and how it all works, but I might need your help at some stage? I'll keep you posted.

Anyway, another early release - yay - to say thank you for following my story :)

-Noelle