"And now the news," an annoying voice announces on the radio followed by a dumb themed song. "Good day everyone, this is your host Enrique..."
"And I don't care," I whisper as I randomly press the buttons, looking for a channel with songs that I like while trying to pay attention to the road too.
This is surely not a pleasant day, at least not for me. The weight of the task that I'm carrying is crushing all the happiness accumulated from yesterday.
I finally find a channel with acceptable music, recognizing the ending notes of a song that I liked.
My life is full of surprises, both good and bad, but I've never thought that it's possible to be put in such a bipolar row of events. Last night I got married with the love of my life and here I am today, going to my mother's house to ensure that her dumbass won't screw my life now worse than she did before.
"Et si par hasard; Oui par hasard; C'est le tien; C'est le mien; Je n'y comprends rien,"* I slowly whisper the lyrics of the new song that starts playing. "Et si par hasard; C'est le sien qui revient; Mais sans le hasard; On n'y comprend plus rien."*
The universe decided that it's time to play me a bit more today. This was the song that I listened to on the day when I left home and went to Barcelona. But, I can't skip it, I like it too much and somehow it became, among others, one of the songs of my freedom. And now, as I was going back to the slaughterhouse out of all the music on this planet I hear something that used to be the sound of my liberation. Well, maybe it's not a bad sign and it's a thing that indicates me that I'm about to reach a sort of closure with my tumultuous past.
"You have to go," Juan said unfolding the newspaper and putting it in front of me on the table, right next to my coffee cup. "You'll have to see if she's gonna speak or not. She's one of the witnesses, Silene, she can blow your coverup within seconds and, in the next moment your face will be at every police station around Spain."
"Fuck," I whispered and took the paper, reading out loud, "Madrid police department begins questioning the witnesses regarding the case of the million euros heist at Ritz." I couldn't read anymore, but I got the gravity of the situation. "I'm screwed," I concluded.
"Your mom is surely among the witnesses," Juan said, "and you should visit her today, make it seem like you just thought about her invitation and you finally realized that it's time to get over your dissensions from the past and bla bla, you know, bullshit like this."
"Yeah, I know," I sighed, "but it won't be easy. Now, I'm honestly thinking if running from the cops isn't a better option."
"Silene." Juan's brows united in a big frown and that was the moment when I knew that if I'm not doing this not only I'm fucked up, but him too.
And here I am, driving alone on a hotter than acceptable October day, thinking about how the actual fuck I'm going to convince my mother if she'll want to testify against me. Knowing her, I'm pretty sure she's already going to tell the police about me, because in her head, this will take me out of the suspects' list, while in fact it'll add and underline my name on a list where I wasn't even registered.
"J'ai plus peur de rien; Plus peur de rien; Je vais vivre enfin; Je te rends ton bien; Réparer enfin; Libérer enfin; Ton cœur du mien; Le tien du mien," I sing out loud the final verses trying to fool myself that I'm indeed not afraid of anything, while, in fact I was shitting on me thinking about how my mother can destroy both mine and Juan's lives with a few words.
I don't even know how to convince her. After spending my entire life trying to escape from my mother it's going to be twice as difficult for me to ally myself with someone that I perceived as my enemy for so many years. Not to talk about the fact that I'll also have to deter her from testifying against me without making her suspicious about anything.
"Good luck, Silene," I whisper to myself while pressing the gas pedal till the ground trying to empty my mind while speeding on the highway. "It's gonna be hard as fuck."
"Silene," my mother says in a surprised tone, "I can't believe you're here."
She catches me in a tight embrace and I'm trying really hard not to do something that will betray my inner disgust reaction.
"Come in!" she invites me while opening the door of the place that used to be my biggest nightmare. "It's been... how long?"
I'm trying to avoid the answer and open the car's door to take out the box of chocolates and cakes that I brought in hope that she'll be more preoccupied to chew the sweets than to fuck up my brain with her dramas.
"I think ten years!" my mom exclaims from behind. "What are you doing there?"
I'm trying to reach the box and take one last gulp of fresh air before entering the house that left me with so many cruel memories.
"Oh no," she says almost in a scolding voice, "you shouldn't have gotten all these things."
"No," I'm trying to sound as neutral and natural as possible, "I couldn't come here after so long without bringing you anything."
My mom seems pleased by the answer, immediately taking the box from my hands.
"Come in!" she says and I feel how a ball is forming in my throat giving me the sensation that I'm about to throw up. "Don't be shy, enter. It's not like I hold anything against you for what you did a decade ago."
That's her way of trying to sound encouraging, but the truth is that she was definitely still hating me for disappearing back then. I knew that because every time we were talking on the phone she was underlining the fact that my departure broke her heart and I don't think that her feelings changed too much in the last couple of months.
Now that she took my box I'm being left without anything to hold on to and with a single option — to pass the threshold that I once jumped over and created my own life trying to break free of my past. But, as I'm taking a deep breath and stepping inside the small hallway I realize that my new life wasn't as free as I thought. I kept on calling my mother and talking to her, which still kept me bounded in a way. I realize that only now, after I run away with Juan, and stopped talking to her for a few months my soul started to heal a bit and a crust of freedom to form over the old wounds. But, till now, everything that I went through was almost in vain because I kept the connection open with her and my violent past.
"Take a seat," she says when I enter in the living room. "As you can see, not much has changed."
Yeah, I can see that. The room looks identical to the day when I fled from here and this isn't giving me a state of comfort, but on the contrary, I feel more agitated than before.
"I see," is the only thing that I succeed to mutter between my almost clenched teeth.
I'm here to close two things. One, the case from the Ritz and the other one is my connection with this woman.
I take a seat on the old and dusty sofa swearing to myself that this is the last time when I'll be talking to her as long as I may live.
"Oh, you've got so many things!" my mom exclaims with her head in the box. "These are my favorites!"
I roll my eyes. Juan told me to select some stuff that will bring her joy and, unfortunately I was still remembering her favorite things even if all these years all I did was to try to forget all these unimportant aspects.
"I knew that you're gonna like them," I say trying to fake some enthusiasm or whatever I should feel now.
Deep down I was still hoping that my plan with "chew the sweets don't fuck my brain" will work.
All I have to do is just to remain calm for as long as this visit might take and try not to punch my mother in the face or, the hardest part, not to use the gun that I was still having with me in the interior pocket of my jacket. So, I take a deep breath for the millionth time today, in a last desperate attempt to calm down because I feel how the avalanche of questions and stupid remarks will start soon.
After a few agonizing minutes she joins me on the sofa, but not before placing a plate with some cakes and biscuits that I brought on the table. I'm trying not to laugh by looking at the small amount of things that she offered me. My mother was greedy, as always, and even with some dumb sweets her all time obsession of keeping the best for herself hasn't faded away.
"So, how was your first day at the hotel?" she asks. "Did you get the job?"
Here they are, the questions.
"No, unfortunately I didn't," I reply trying to seem like I really care about the goddamn maid position.
"But, how comes, Silene?" she's getting a bit irritated. "Haven't I taught you how to mop the floor and clean the house?"
I don't think that there's a person that can annoy me more in this world.
"Yes, you did, but it's not about that." I'm trying to introduce her to the actual purpose of my visit without giving her too many informations.
"But, what?" she's trying to keep her cool, but judging by how much I know her, this thing won't last more than two minutes. "What was the reason?"
"Well, that night something happened at the hotel," I say controlling my tone, because out of everyone I know she's the only one who can catch me lying. "They haven't told me. It was just a lot of agitation and chaos. My boss said that I can go because I haven't got the job they have other things to do now."
"Oh, I know what you're talking about," my mom's voice is finally softening. "It's in that goddamn night when a robbery happened."
"A robbery?" I ask faking the shock. "But isn't that one of the best guarded hotels in the city?"
"Yes, it is, but those idiots were well prepared." She comes closer to me putting a finger over her lips. "You don't know from me, but I heard from someone who's friend is a security officer that those assholes stopped the cameras in the entire hotel and managed to keep it in a way that no one noticed the fact that they were off by playing them older footage on the screens."
"This is terrible," it's the only phrase that my mind can produce right now. "Did they caught them?"
"No, the bastards were fast and ingenious!" my mom exclaims angry. "The police is going to question us all this week because they think that one of us helped them. They also think that maybe one of the thieves or more infiltrated in the hotel while the cameras were hacked, so we all have to report everything that we did that night."
Shit, here comes the hard part. I'm not even sure if I have an argument good enough to make her skip the story of meeting me in the hallway.
"I haven't seen anything suspicious that night, but have you?" I ask innocently.
"No, nothing," she sounds disappointed in a way like her senses that she used on catching me for years haven't helped her to catch the thieves. "But weren't you there for a sort of trial to get the job?"
"Yes," I reply feeling the ball in my throat increasing.
"There weren't other girls with you to get the job?" she asks curiously. "Maybe one of those bitches helped the thieves. Silene can you imagine if you go to the police and tell them some details about the possible suspects? I think they'll reconsider giving you the job if you'll help the hotel."
Fuck this. In no way I was thinking that her never ending obsession of affirming herself will pop up just now and will also imply me.
"No, I haven't seen them much, I was more focused on what they told us," I lie, "I was trying to do a good job on my first day."
"You're always with the head in the clouds!" she snaps. "This is how I raised you? You're as ignorant as always. Imagine how much this could've helped us?"
I feel like I'm going to throw up by hearing the word us. I came to visit her ten minutes ago and in her head we're back at being a family.
"I'm sorry, but I haven't seen anything," I say upset. "How the fuck I was supposed to know that's gonna be a robbery and I have to look at the other girls?"
"Silene, the language!" she says in an irritated voice. "Well you didn't know back then, but you should try to remember now because I'll tell the police about the fact that you might know. They have better techniques to make you remember, they'll show you pics and stuff maybe it'll help."
I'm not even sure if this sounds like a threat or not. But, for the situation I'm in, this is the biggest bomb that she could've thrown me. Come on Silene, play with this now.
"Look, mom, I know that this would mean a lot for you," I start still a bit afraid of what I can produce, but it's not like I have too many options left, "but I have to think about my priorities now and as much as I'd love to help those people to catch the thieves I don't know shit about them and I might end up wasting the police's precious time."
"But what are your priorities?" my mom interrupts me.
"To get a job," I lie. "I don't really care much about the hotel job, there are plenty other offers that I haven't given a try yet. Going to the police everyday to be interrogated about a subject that I don't know about won't help me to find something."
"Yes, you're right." She seems like she caught my bait. "So, I shouldn't tell them that you know?"
"I don't think so," I say this time more sure, "you know what if I have a job interview and the police is calling me to come and testify or recognize those people, I'll have to drop the job and run to the police. So, that's why I think it's best if you don't tell them that I might've seen the suspects, because you know me, I'm getting distracted easily and I was rather curious to find out how much they'll pay me than who my colleagues are."
"Yeah," my mom mutters, "as always."
"I'm sorry," I whisper.
"It's fine," she says more joyfully, "at least you're looking to do something with your life."
Apparently my plan worked, I gave her the only thing that attracts her more than to be in the center of things — a well payed position.
"And, if you'll get a decent job, please don't forget about your poor mom," she adds while stuffing herself with mini chocolate cakes. "You know, I was always low on money."
"Yes, I know," I reply trying to sound compassionate, "I won't forget."
"Look what are we gonna do!" she exclaims after chewing some more cakes. "I won't tell them anything about you. We can pretend that we haven't met right?"
"Oh, yes," I reply as serious as possible, trying to fake the actual happiness that I was feeling. "Mom, this is a great idea."
"I know!" she almost applauds herself. "As always, I'm the one who's helping you to secure your career."
"Thank you," I say trying hard to control myself.
If I'm going to stay too much here I might end up throwing up on her. I don't think there was a more traumatic experience in the last few months than to come here and talk with her. I'd rather get shot again than to be forced to enter in this house one more time.
But, I have to calm. After obtaining what I wanted, I can't screw everything up and leave. The only problem is that I'm not sure how can I leave this place faster.
"Come on, take a cake!" my mom tells me pushing the plate in front of me with her fingers.
I'm not in the mood to start an argument because of something so insignificant, so I prefer to do what she asks.
The taste of chocolate doesn't help with the sickness that I was already feeling, but I try to force myself to chew and swallow the small cake. If I'll have to throw up, I pray that I resist to do it outside.
"Alright, so how was your life ever since you abandoned me?" her voice is like the slaps I used to receive ten years ago, harsh, brutal and filled with venom and the question, as nonsensical as te reason why I was getting beaten back then.
"I was okay, I told you every time we were talking on the phone." And my answer has to be plain, vague and to give her the impression that she's still controlling me. But, now the real question was if she really controlled me for the last couple of years without me realizing it or I was indeed free?
"That shit of a signer job!" she exclaims. "How comes that you renounced at that and you came back here? Did they kick you out? Because I don't see another reason for you to get back to your senses."
"Yeah, they did."
There's no other way to escape her haunting presence other than lying. And I lie and lie for the next two or three hours, because I think that in this house even the time dilates and everything lasts longer than expected.
In the end, the result is pretty pleasing. My mom is all smiles and really happy that I came back to Madrid and I'm looking for serious jobs like maid, cleaner or nanny. The only thing that still bothers her is the fact that I'm not coming back to live with her.
"You're always welcome to come back here," she's trying one more time before I'm getting ready to leave, "you'd save so much money that you're now paying on rent and you can bring home the difference and make the living easier for us both."
"It's not about that," I say trying not to roll my eyes, "the rent is almost nothing. I told you that I'm splitting with a few friends, and by staying with those people I'm being able to get more job opportunities because one of them is having some contacts at the unemployment office and can help us too."
"Oh, yes, you're right," she finally agrees, "but after you'll secure a job you can always leave them and come back and stay with me, it's gonna be the best like this."
As always she was using the people, whipping her ass with them like toilet paper and then moving on to what serves best her own interests. I'm still wondering how she got a job at the Ritz. Probably, it was by using this technique.
"Yes, I will," I tell her hoping that I can finally go.
"Alright." After hours of discussions and lies she finally seems pleased by the entire situation.
She lets me go, but not after hugging me and telling me how much she missed me all this time. All I'm trying to do is to hold the vomit that accumulated for a few more minutes. The last thing I want is to screw up everything by throwing up on her shoes.
"Goodbye!" she waves as I get in the car. "Don't forget the address like you did the last ten years."
"Bye mom," I say desperately trying not to roll my eyes or do something that can betray my inner disgust, "I'll come as soon as I can."
This response seems to please her. My mother is happily waving me goodbye as I turn on the engine and try to drive as normally as possible, without giving her the impression that I can't wait to get the hell out of here.
I close the radio. I can't stand the sound of music or anything else. All I need are a few moments with myself.
So, I drive fast on the highway, only to stop at some point at a gas station with a huge parking lot nearby, excited that I can finally have a gulp of fresh air. But, instead of my desperately wanted moment of calmness, the sickness that I tried to control while I was with my mother surfaces, deciding that it's time to come and ruin everything.
I open the car's door in the last few seconds before the avalanche of disgust that I was holding inside for so long came out of me.
While I'm throwing up I'm thinking of all the worst memories that my mother successfully left me. Beatings, scandals, abuses, I can't even breathe properly.
I'm not even sure if I'm vomiting because of pregnancy anymore. All I feel is just a huge wave of fury hitting me over and over again for my own incapacity of being able to tell my mother at least a small part of everything that she left me with.
My body feels heavy when I'm trying to get back in my seat, like I'm carrying a ton of rocks on my back. Small stars are dancing over my eyes.
When I look down I see a small red stain on my dress. It looks like a big rose petal left there as a remembrance that I'm still carrying a life inside me, or so I hope.
The last thing that I can do is gather my remaining forces and reach for the phone in my bag. I'm pretty sure that only God is the one who gives me enough power to open the contacts and give one last call.
"Juan," I whisper as soon as I hear his voice, "can you come and pick me up?"
YOU ARE READING
Me Llamo Tokio (My Name Is Tokyo) - A Money Heist Prequel
Fanfiction"My name is Tokyo... But when this story started, that wasn't my name." Running from the wounds of her past, she finds her solace in a dull life, until one night will change it all. Thrown in the middle of a life and death situation, she's forced t...
