When the morning comes

21 | Davu

"I promised Salomé."

"I can do it, too."

"No." I stood up, tucked my lunchbox under my arm. "I'll do it."

"If you need someone for Benjamin.. He'll be received with open arms."

"I know, Pa." I gave him a smile. "I know."

The weather had drastically changed within a few weeks. From the birds singing the mornings awake to the butterflies coloring the sky, it had now turned into a gloomy, cloudy and rainy day. I wore my coat and black Clarks shoes, yes, the shiny edition, which Aurora had forced me to buy for a wedding day of her cousin. I had despised them for so long- I wasn't all about the brands she knew, but knowing how passionate she had been about dressing nicely, too, I could only wish she would have seen me today.

With a beanie pulled over my disheveled hair, I greeted Salomé, who stepped inside my car with a soft smile. "Hey, Zev. Thanks that I could tag along with you.. weather has changed, hasn't it?"

"Of course. We'd be going the exact same way, anyway." I drove off. "Definitely. I wonder if summer is officially over now."

"Aren't these the British summers, anyway?" Salomé teased, tucking her hair behind her ear. My eyes raked over her appearance. She wore a thick, rust brown coat, a scarf and she held a beret in her hands.

For a brief moment, I painfully longed for Italy.

"I suppose that's a fact right there." I chuckled, making eye contact in a glance.

"Heat isn't everything either, trust me." She slouched back, stared outside the window. "Sometimes, when we were in Africa, I almost fainted. Not lying. I wasn't a good drinker, though. That must have been the reason."

I liked how she just chatted away, seeming to not having to put any effort in it. However, since I wasn't that good with many words, I gave her a smile. We drove in a comfortable silence for the rest of the drive. When we arrived, Salomé wrapped her scarf tighter around her neck and stuffed her hands in the pockets of her coat. Her eyes were squinted because of the rain, so I quickly locked the car and made our way inside the prison.

The warmth from the inside of the building hit me like a smack in my face, making me feel unwell for a moment. I unbuttoned my coat and dropped it off my shoulders, my arms holding it up still. I glanced around. Saw family members. Friends, maybe. Acquaintances. People who wanted to talk to the prisoners.

Salomé and I stayed silent, I think we were both a bit overwhelmed by the whole situation. We gazed at people, stood up when two officers called us over. They examined us, which was quite uncomfortable, and sent us over to a smaller room where we were met by a dark man, sitting at a table. Chains were attached to his feet and the table, but even if he were to walk away, he couldn't ever leave. Because although the door got closed, we knew a police officer was standing at the other side.

The officer had instructed us and gave us fifteen minutes to talk. So when Salomé and I sat down, we tried to get most out of it. Salomé had contacted me earlier this week with the questions, but neither of us seemed to know what to say.

We gazed at Gloria's father for a while. His dark eyes had a deep, melancholic look in there. He didn't make eye contact, his head hung low and if there was one thing that his silence screamed, it was regret.

Salomé cleared her throat. She'd known the parents of the children, unlike me. And even if we did have parent meetings so now and then, most didn't show up because they didn't understand the principle. I had never met Gloria's father. "Davu.."

He looked up at her, but didn't react.

"This is Zev. Zev Malin, he's your daughter's English teacher at school." She smiled at me, looked back at him.