hiraeth

chapter four

-Day three-

(17 June 2014)

                

I was sitting in the hotel room balcony, enjoy the early morning breeze. My cup of coffee between my small hands and my legs crossed. I admired Brazil, its people and its vibe. I never want to go back home but I know that at some point I have to.

“Danielle, your phone is ringing” Aissa yelled from inside.

“Can you fetch it for me?” I yelled back.

Today surprisingly he was up early, probably because he had a game today. Even though he wasn’t in the lineup today and that he was going to sit the whole game through.

“Here you go” he handed it to me, sitting on the chair next to me.

When I saw the ID caller, I almost spilled my coffee. I looked around breathing in, and then closed my eyes. I need to answer it.

“What’s wrong?” Aissa asked as I kept examining the ID caller.

I hit accept as I took another breath “Hello, daddy.”

“Where the fuck are you? Your studies have ended two days ago. You should have been in Tunisia by yesterday.” He yelled over the phone as my knees clanked like silver spoon held in loose wrists.

“I have been meaning to call you…I just didn’t have the time.” I spoke shaking “You see….one of my professor at university...has a project for us photographers…yes a project…we would be working with a news paper…so I might have to stay here for a little while” I improvised.

“I don’t care if your stupid teacher is giving you some stupid project” he said and I could see him in the back of my mind, hitting his desk with his large hand in fury.  I looked over at my roommate and he looked confused as ever. “I want you back in Tunisia before 25 June, or I’ll send one of your brothers to get you and you know how much they love Brazil.” He ordered laughing at the end of the sentence.

“Okay, dad.” I answered quietly as he hang up on me.

I throw myself on the chair, titling my head back and sighing in frustration and desperation. Aissa didn’t speak up until after a few minutes.

“You okay there?” he moved his chair closer to me. And I looked at him with tears swelling in my eyes.

“I’m really not” I answered as he looked confused yet I think he felt pity for me even though he had no idea what this is all about.

“Why did you lie to father?” he asked as I smirked.

“Well, I did not lie I’ve just sugarcoated the truth” I throw my hands in the air.

“You know you can tell me anything.”Aissa suggested and for a brief moment I considered telling him, but then I calculated the possible consequences.

“Oh, yeah like you do too.” I sighed.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing, it doesn’t mean anything.”

“No, tell me.”

“Okay, why don’t you tell me why the hell you drink so much? Who’s that guy I hear sobbing at the middle of the night? I know I am a stranger to you, but don’t ask anything from me that you can’t give.” I said storming into the room.

I felt bad for casting my anger on him like that, but I also felt like I needed to be alone at the moment. My dad’s phone call had turned me into another person in a split second.

-

-

-

I kept pacing back and forth around the room, waiting for him to get back. It was almost midnight and I was worried. The game should have ended three hours ago.

Maybe he is just sad they lost and went for a drink. But that’s what makes me worry more. What if he went for a drink?

After a few minutes, of checking my phone again and again; he walked in staggering and a bottle in his hand. I stood up from the arm chair immediately.

“Aissa, I’m sorry” I said grabbing his free hand, trying to make him drop the bottle.

“You’re sorry? Sorry about what?” he laughed as I gave him a sad look “Sorry, that both my parents don’t give a flying fuck about me? Sorry that I’m an useless shit that can’t do anything right? Huh? What are you sorry about” he replied snatching his hand from my grip.

 I kept looking at him “I was going to say I’m sorry about earlier when I snapped at you…and I’m sorry you lost your game.”

“I didn’t even play in ‘my game’” he laughed as I took a step forward. “I didn’t even play.”

“Is that what you are upset about?” I interrogated.

“Who told you I’m upset?” he staggered “I’m on top of the world. Honestly, I couldn’t be happier.”

I opened my arms for him and his face expression changed; his eyes softened, his and smile faded away.

He collapsed into me, and I almost fell on the ground but I kept myself steady. When he cried there was a rawness to it, like the pain was still an open wound.

The sobs were stifled at first He blinked briny tears from bloodshot eyes, his thick lashes stuck together in clumps as if he'd been swimming. The tears made wet tracks down his face and dripped from his stubbled, wobbling chin and down on my shirt.

 When he at last turned his face to me, he was a picture of grief and devastation. It was the face of one who had suffered before and didn't know if he could do it again.

I slowly whipped his tears with my hands and lifted his chin and somehow I saw him in a whole different light.

He suddenly, snatched my hand and stood up straight, storming into the bathroom. I heard the shower running, but still I could hear quiet sobs. I wanted to stay up and tell him that whatever he is going through, it’s all going to be okay at the end. But I know I couldn’t convince that, how can I? When I can’t even convince myself that.

After what seemed like forever, he got out of the shower with just a towel wrapped around his waist. I tried not to focus on his body, so I kept glancing a bit at him from my phone.

He took a little while looking through his closet for his clothes, and then when he was unsuccessful he turned to me “Have you seen my navy blue tank?”

“Yeah, I got bored earlier so I folded all your tanks and putted them on the high shelf.” I answered him

He grabbed his shirt and sweats and headed for the bathroom again, I shifted again in my place taking a deep breath. And my mind was like ‘he was naked under that thin towel’.

He got back to the room, fully dressed with his hair still wet and his cheeks were a bit red. He laid down on his bed and putted his earphones on, the sound was so loud. I could hear that he was listening to Bruno Mars Uptown Funk.

I throw myself next to him on his bed and he snatched his earphones looking at me, he looked confused and surprised. He sat up as I gave him a weak smile.

“Look, I appreciate what you just did! Nobody has ever held me like that before so…thanks but I’d appreciate it more if you don’t tell anyone about it.” He spoke as I examined his face expression.

I squeezed his hand and replied “You can trust me. Because I do.” and his eyes light up.

After a few minutes of looking into each other eyes I decided to head for bed “Goodnight.” I said and he nodded looking relived.

After he turned out the light, I started thinking; what could have caused him such pain and sadness?