With my fingers reaching for the sandwich in my lunchbox, I realised it had been the first food I had touched that day. In the haste of the morning, and, admittedly, the protesting of my stomach, I had ignored breakfast and stepped inside my car the moment I waved Benjamin off to school. I stared at how the coffee machine poured a cappuccino in the mug Benji had gotten me for father's day two years ago. He had painted words on it himself. Words that said; Papà, well done, I'm awesome.
The moment it was ready, I took it away from the machine and made my way to the roof of the building, where a small rooftop terrace had been made for staff. I greeted two teachers and sat in the corner, staring down at the town we lived in. My sandwich stayed untouched for minutes long, until a sparrow landed onto the wooden table my elbows were resting on.
I threw a piece of bread in its direction. He took it gratefully, and flew off. I thought of the spaghetti bird. My smile faded, I reluctantly took a bite out of my sandwich, memories erupting in my mind.
"Zev."
I looked up, Teddy blocked the sun that shone onto my face. "Unc."
He sat down across me and opened his own lunchbox, staring down at the cars that drove by. He prayed for his lunch and the moment he opened his eyes, they landed on me. "You were pretty unavailable this weekend. How have you been?"
I shrugged.
"Busy phone?" He gave me a sympathetic smile.
"I threw it away."
He hummed. Ate silently for a moment.
"They don't understand." A deep breath escaped from my lips, and I could feel how my tiredness allowed my emotions to come up almost fully. My eyes watered. "The feeling isn't stronger on those days, you know?"
"You don't specifically miss her birthday, which is once a year. You miss the every day moments." He commented, looking up at me in a, somewhat, concerned but understanding expression.
"And they always fill everything in. Oh, you must miss her a little extra today because it's her birthday. Oh, you must miss her so much now on your wedding anniversary day." I dropped my head onto the wooden table, squeezed my eyes closed. "No, that's not how it works. It's not on those days that I miss her the 'most'."
I stared at my sandwiches. "Waking up together, eating breakfast together, spending time together, bringing Benjamin to bed together, cooking together, drinking wine together, cuddling together, stepping inside our bed together." I closed my lunchbox. I felt nauseous. "That's when I miss her the most."
"I understand it, son." His voice was soft. It remained silent. I didn't know what to say, because a few more words and I'd burst out. Something I did not quite feel like. "How'd Benjamin manage?"
"Barely. He was full of anger." I mumbled out. "On our anniversary day Benjamin barely spoke a word and if he did, it would be spit out in rudeness."
"He misses his Mamma." Teddy briefly touched my hand, searched for eye contact. I wouldn't give it to him. Topic was closed. Simple as that was. Teddy knew me, therefore he didn't say a word about it anymore.
Remembering what he said about the phone, I fished it out of my pocket. "You needed me this weekend?"
Teddy swallowed his mouthful and pointed to nothing in specific over his shoulder. "Salomé. She had been wondering if you still wanted to talk to Gloria's father."
"Do you think we should?" I doubted everything at this point. "He made a mistake, he has to pay for it. Simple, right?"
Teddy observed my face for a while. I used to be a fighter, but giving up had been a lot easier the last couple of months. He knew it. "You can always try, but if you don't feel like getting involved in that all, you shouldn't do it." He looked concerned. "You've got enough on your plate."
"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.
He gave me a nod, his voice was hoarse. Full of emotions. Tiredness. A tough life. "Zev.." His accent wasn't known as a British one. It was thick, foreign. "Davu." He pointed at himself.
"It's good to meet you."
"How is my Gloria?" He glanced between the both of us, his eyes screamed despair.
Salomé shook her head slowly. "We don't know, Davu. She's placed in a refugee home, but as soon as we get the information and the chance, we will visit her." She glanced at me with a sheepish smile. "Well.. I'll definitely visit her. I don't know if.."
"I will too. I care about my students." Clearing my throat, I sat up straighter, trading my slouched position. "Davu, we only want to help. We got the news that they're researching stuff to see if you have to go back in prison in Uganda.. can we ask a few questions?"
He simply nodded, gazed at the floor.
"If it's too personal, just tell us, but.. we might need some of that if we want to testify."
"I did a crime." He shrugged. "No reason to testify."
Right, that's what I had thought. But thinking back about the years in the past, I tried to push through my trait and put myself to the back. "Can we ask why?" Davu seemed tired of life, he wasn't trying to convince us, wasn't trying to be a better person. He just sat there, waiting for the questions. He was hopeless.
Salomé observed him, and all I could see was compassion written over her face. I admired that from her. Wished I could be more like that. Wanting to know deeper of the person in front of me, instead of the assumptions others made, or what their first impressions told me. "It's been said that you have lied about the documents you carry with you.. is that true?"
"Yes." He mumbled out, drawing onto the table with his finger.
"What did you lie about?"
"Criminal records." Davu's eyes widened, he stared at the door. "Ma'am, I don't know if I am allowed to talk about this all."
"Don't worry, we got you." Since Daniel worked here on days where the Beany Business was closed- we had explained him everything and although he didn't want to go against the protocol of the police policy, he sometimes put humanity above the rules. He was clever, knew when the right time was to do the risky action.
"It's not an investigation, we promise." Salomé smiled warmly at him, squinted her eyes when a chuckle left her mouth. "Might sound like it with all of the questions, but we just want to know.. in case we can help, you know? For you, for your little Gloria."
The door opened, a police officer stared at us. It wasn't Daniel. "Five more minutes, sir and ma'am."
"Understood." Salomé answered, waited for the door to close before she spoke up again. "Davu, why did you lie about the criminal records?"
"Ma'am, they would refuse me with a criminal record." His voice cracked. "I don't want better life, okay? I want a life. For Gloria. She has seen war. She seen people die. Ma'am, how can I let that happen to my little girl. I want a life for her. If I did not lie, they would refuse me and we would be in the war still."
"It was a big risk.."
"Yes, I pay for it now. My wife is dead. But Gloria is safe." Tears dripped down his cheeks. By the mention of his passed wife, I felt myself looking down at my ring. "They mean the world to me. I go through fire for them, okay? Through the ocean. I would have taken my wife's place, any time. I don't mean no harm. I wanted them to be safe."
"Can I ask what the criminal record was for.." Salomé glanced at me, and I quickly looked up from my staring, even when my thoughts couldn't hold me there anymore. He had literally gone through fire and the deepest water for his wife, but she had passed away. What had I done to keep my Aurora with me?
A lump in my throat appeared, becoming so big that I felt like suffocating.
He paid for the things he'd done in prison. Why wasn't I in one?
"I can't tell you." He shook his head. He thought about forming the words in his mouth. His English wasn't perfect, but enough to get away with it. "Not good place back then. I can't tell you. Gloria will be taken from me." He curled his hands into fists. "Ma'am, I make mistakes years back. I need to pay for it. It's okay if I need prison in Uganda. I'm afraid for Gloria. Who will take care of Gloria. Who can help me, please?"
"We will." Salomé reacted quickly, a concerned frown appeared on her forehead. "I promise, we will help you. But you'll need to tell us everything, so we can use that information when we need to testify. There is a lawsuit planned in a month or two. It would have been this week, but apparently they need more proof and are investigating things."
"How do you know that?" I frowned, kept my voice low.
"Daniel." Salomé looked at me, gave me a sheepish expression. "A few weeks ago, you were pretty unavailable on your phone, so I had contacted him."
Davu pulled at the chains, while tears kept cascading down his cheeks. "All I want was best for my wife and child and look now. I get punishment for being good to them. I know I lied and make mistakes but only to protect them. I know it won't protect me but that's okay."
"I get that." Salomé briefly touched his hand. "You lied about not having a criminal record so the country let you in, right? What were the crimes? Please tell us.. that way we can do research.."
"How can I trust you won't take Gloria from me.." Davu's eyes were full of anxiety. "Gloria got taken from me when she was a baby. No, I won't let it happen again. I did bad things, ma'am, but I regret it."
"Davu, I won't judge you for the things you've done. Never. Clearly, you're a changed man, who needs to pay for something at an inconvenient time." Salomé hesitated, but closed her eyes and prayed to God. For justice, that the people judging the situation would get wisdom to make a right decision, for Gloria, for the research. When she had opened her eyes, Davu beamed.
"Bless you, daughter of God." Davu kissed her hands.
With a creaky sound, the heavy door opened and the police officers motioned for us to get up. "Time's up."
Davu got handcuffed, but he still smiled. "Come back, please. I will tell you."
Silently, we had driven to Daniel's cafe to catch up and have a coffee. I wasn't silent, but then again, I wasn't a man of many words. We sat in the corner of the cafe, on an old, leathered sofa that represented the seats in an old Santler Dogcart, one of the oldest British cars. Salomé had asked for a milkshake, whereas I had gotten a black coffee, my mind needing something so strong.
Daniel placed a few donuts in front of us and said to be right back after preparing his cappuccino.
"We didn't get much wiser." I mumbled out, staring at the donuts, that made me want to throw up.
"Not at all." Salomé sighed, putting her hands in her hair. "I think he has a hard time admitting what he has done in the past, with the fear in the back of his mind telling him that his daughter will be taken away from him."
"It has happened before.." I thought back about the conversation. "But if he has paid for it already back in Uganda, why would he need to go back for that? He shouldn't be afraid for it, if that's cleared already."
"Yeah." Salomé was lost in thoughts. She didn't speak much, just stared in the distance with thoughts clouding her mind. "This all is about the documents. We need to focus on that. He faked them, and he claims the reason for that is that he wanted a life for his wife and child. Which is reasonable, if I think with my own mother heart, but how can we help him.."
"The documents, we need to find out whatever he did. The punishments there are way harsher than here. Maybe we can figure something out. Besides, how old are those records? We have not asked that. What if they're old.." I stared outside the window, frowned when I saw a brown haired boy with a tanned skin on his bike.
Wasn't he with Teddy?
I shot Teddy a text. He answered with a 'z' only. I couldn't help but chuckle, knowing he had a hard time texting, preferred calling.
Zev, yes Benjamin is here. He wondered if he could play with Nolan. I did not see harm in that. - Teddy Wood.
Where was Nolan, then?
Completely zoned out, I didn't realise Daniel was talking to me until he pulled my earlobe. Something he had done ever since I was a kid working there, and I was lost in my thoughts, forgetting to fulfill my tasks. He'd always called me a dreamer, and maybe, he was right. "Zev, wake up."
"Sorry.." I frowned. "Where's Nolan?"
"Somewhere outside, why?"
"Oh, okay. No, nothing." I turned my attention back to Salomé. Her eyes were on my wedding ring. When she looked up, her mind now looked fogged up with thoughts instead of the clouding. I didn't bother wiping the fog away for her.
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Salomé and Zev.. a couple in the future, or no?
Davu and Gloria? What do you think his crimes were? Do you think he has to go to prison?
Is Zev hallucinating when it comes to Benjamin or is he overprotective?
Let me know your thoughts!! Votes, comments.. they mean everything to me xx