The tears of guilt and misery {PART 6}

 

“Why was your boyfriend and the employees and customers at the bakery bein’ so fucking hostile.”, I sserted her to answer. She stared me into my eyes causing my weak spirit to waver, as if I was to fight steel with a stick.
  “First, Justin is married so don’t nurture misunderstandings and second, I am not barred to answer these questions”. She gave such a clear cut answer which was clearly an intimidation. My heart was beating so violently all that time on the trip that it would have exploded like a volatile bomb. If I am not even getting an explanation for that then-
  “Come now lady, gimme a clue at least.”. The art of negotiation, if you can haggle you can get at least some information. But what I got was a soul scorching glare. She sid not a word, then took a deep breath and spoke
  “Thomas… don’t you trust me.” A glimmer in her eyes, as if a maiden was experiencing her first love.  But I had to persevere this cheap trick. An underhanded move not worthy of any consideration to be thought against. I had to think back of anything that would choke her in this situation, I remembered something that the bald butcher had muttered just when one of the employee was opening ‘the door’.
  “………..Godon Attrei fido ne Urehe!”, I rejoiced as I perfectly remembered. But to my surprise, Fred grimaced to the utterance. I had touched a nerve Ishoudn’t had. Her usually expression less face wore a frown. I was about to blow away in a torrent ofverbal abuse and assault but that never came, as for why I do not understand she just sighed, “Dehenschedd reburt Godon fiattrei ladena si ecaesche cappali”.

I was flabbergasted. It was for sure a foreign language and the words that the man from the bakery spoke was mockery. Disappointment stood atop of my mountain of thought. I may have accidentally used very downtrodden profanity against her.
  “Erici please forgive me. I blurted out stuff, meaning of which I didn’t even knew. Sorry if I hurt ya” . She was in the study giving no response. I thought of the three books that she gotten from Justin from what I recall she must have asked him to bring the books from the ‘Jiradiniya’, perhaps because of her racist sentiment. She must be studying them diligently before teaching them to me. As I draw nearer to the door, silence sent shrills in my ear. I called her name out, getting no response. It was not like Erici was someone who could get into troubles, having seen her headstrong attitude but I was reminded of her complex expression wen I said the man’s words. I steadily opened the door only to find master lying her head down on the desk, asleep.   
    Or I thought. When I came closer to inspect her, the book on which her head was resting upon was stained wet with her tears. Her nose had also changed its colour to a reddish tint. The usual visage ironfist was nowhere to be seen. What remained was a young and timid girl who had sobbed heart out. She was speaking something. “I…..m so..”, I got a little more closer to her, to her lips.
   “I am sorry”. That was what she was saying, I couldn’t understnad why she was saying that or whom she was saying that. But there was obvious pain in her words, the feeling of remorse and guilt enveloped in them. Possibly something horrifying, as if a living nightmare or something even more inhumane and morbid. I had devilish dreams for months after that dreadful night, I would mourn till my throat would sore. It had a similar vibe to eat if not more eerie. I hypothesize that she must have somehow known of my incident, provided that she already had done such nefarious thing up until now and decided to help me out. If that is how it was, I could never show the appropriate gratitude to her. As of now, following her without  question is the the only thing I can think of. I turned on the air conditioner so that she could sleep cozy in the burning afternoon heat.

It was about 5 p.m. and I was sitting in Colenel Ramses’ café on Dowing street, at the north side of Hemmingway. The chirping of the pigeons in the pleasant summer evening, whilst no one is around this really charms the body and the soul.
  “May I take your order, sir?”, as I was day dreaming this magnificiant environmnet that had been built around me. I was disturbed again, by the waitress. As I turned around, it seemed someone familiar had played a simple prank.
  “Oh Liz, hey ya flippin’ late.” It wasn’t much, but someone as professional as her had to be more sincere. Now that she was here, I could tell her all about it. But before that, I ordered two lattes and some cheese grills.
  “Elizabeth, take a seat…….There’s something you should know.” Immense tensity started dominating the cheerful, Elizabeths jolly expression also changed to something very serious.
  “What is it? Something troubling ya?”, She was giving full attention to what I was going to tell her.

  “My parents…….. are dead no, they don’t exist. Yeah….”. Her posture stiffened as she heard them words. She had experienced something beyond shock. Historically, Elizabeth had been my guest more than many times. As close neighbours to both of us her house was as mine as my own was hers. We were basically family.

  “What do you mean by they don’t existed”. She was resisting her eyes to collapse into river of tears. She wanted to know everything before she would give in to her emotional trauma that was pulling her legs no her body to the depths of ecstasy.

  “According to my relatives, they don’t even know me. My family friends have the same answer and neighbours have no recollection of me having family.

  “……” She couldn’t comprehend this folly. I was familiar with that shock. When I first learned about that, I had a similar reaction but more hopless and helpless. A tragedy that is insanity in others’ eyes. A problem that has no one to consult, if not solve. A pit that has no bottom; an eternal fall. Dried tearducts, lost voice, the pain that has scorned the body so much that every nerve cell neglects it altogether. The numbness that shouts apocalypse. The craving for death and yet the hope of return. I was ripped apart over and over to the point that it didn’t even matter anymore. These feelings…..

  “I had no hope, that anyone would even give it an ear, let alone believe it. So you know I didn’t even think about you”. Things were clear to her, I had become so pasionately hopless that I had considered that everyone except I, had their memories altered. I theorize; If someone has exceptionally high cling to the person ceased to exist then, theuniverse could do no thing.

 “…..and.. you…succumbed to….trauma and depression..”, she was desperately attempting to swallow her feelings but soon she was barely able to spurt out words. It already pained to look at her crimson eyes that were tearing up.

 “Until a month ago, I lived as a shut in. After which I met Erici and she has been counselling me.”.

 “…..She believed you? …..Did you even research about this maybe- ” , she just wanted some reason that her heart could cling to. Maybe a ray of hope, maybe something that would relieve her. I honestly wanted to lie to her but that would only deepen the wound.

 “I have done everything in my power to restore them but….I….”, remembering those days still gives me chills. The horrors, the hell that destroyed me. Everything, was a zombie, a zombie that lived only for search for the reason rather than flesh.
   No hopes, no dreams, no sympathies, neither comfort. That was the reality I lived and that was the cold, coarse truth I told her. She gave in, weeping and panting. Her relation was not that of blood but the emotions that go beyond such walls. A loved one, that had perished without a trace. Even though I wasn’t able to share my sadness to anyone, she could. And that she did. She started telling their bittersweet memories that she held, hearing them my heart began to throb with pain. Between unequal she wept then spoke until her voice became so hoarse, that she would bleed.  In order to comfort her, or more than that to put myself at ease. I pushed my chair which was opposite to besides her and grabbed her hand. But as if resonating, I burst into those memories as well.
 “Liz…..looks like I am being helpless aren’t I. But… thank you. I….I really needed this.”, I spoke those self-demeaning words while bawling over but I was truly grateful that she remembers.
 “Thomas, ……there’s something you should know”, -

“You.. are being hunted”. The words that she told me, fear was engraved in them. It was not something that was meant to be be some lowly joke, it was clue over which one must seek it’s true extent. She wouldn’t confuse me over some random bullshit, in such a depressing conversation and considering the hostility I have been receiving at various venues Erici has taken me. Erici herself was being hated by these people, so it wouldn’t be odd to assume that she was somehow protecting me rom these people. It is funny that someone like me, who had been ostracized from myself was somehow on the hit list of such a plenty a people. And then there was the letter she asked me to give Frederyck, I do not the contents of which but I never knew Elizabeth had any ties with her. They are like polar attitudes in terms of attitude.