Awaited Redemption

Wednesday | Walid

Walid

Siting in the cafeteria I went through the course outline again, and as my eyes skimmed over it, a plan already started to form in my head on what to teach next to the kids.

I took a quick glance at my watch. Only five minutes left.

I started tapping the pen against my thigh.

Please let him come today. Please. Oh Allah please.

"Hey." A voice called out.

I looked up and saw him standing there with his hands in his pocket. His long hair gracing his forehead, and his face was as emotionless as the first time I saw him.

"Hi, how are you?" I asked as form of greeting.

He shrugged his shoulders in return.

I nodded my head, and guestured for him to take a seat.

I rubbed my palms against each other, as I was preparing myself to ask the dreaded question.

But before I could, he replied.

"Sorry, I couldn't make it yesterday. I am sorry if you had to wait long for me." He said with an unapologetic tone.

I looked up at him, blinking before I nodded my head.

It was the first time when he had apologized to me in the four months I have known him for. It was hard not to choke on words.

"So let's get started?" He asked.

"Yeah sure. Just give me the notes that you made yesterday and today, I will skim through them and take the pictures. If I have any difficulty, I will ask you to clear it for me." I explained to him.

He nodded his head and threw a few papers towards my side. I gathered, and started going through them.

I skimmed through the pages, but didn't found anything I wanted clarification for. I pulled out my phone and took a couple of pictures of them.

"Thanks for these." I said, handing him back the notes.

He looked over at me, and gave a slight nod, and then went back to staring out the window.

I looked at him for a couple of seconds, trying to read his expressions, know what was going through his mind.

Maybe I could be of some help to him. Maybe I could relate, offer advice, try to to get his mind off things.

But when I couldn't decipher or even guess anything through the front he put up, I heaved a sigh and decided to leave.

I got up, turned around, took a couple of steps, but then halted.

I turned around again, with a determination. A question.

I went back to where he was sitting, and tapped his shoulder to grab his attention.

He turned around and I was met with raised eyebrows.

"Why were you not here yesterday?" I asked him.

My curiosity got the best of me this time.

He regarded me for a few seconds.

"I had an encounter with one of my past mistakes yesterday." He replied, and then went back to looking out the floor length window.

I kept looking at him as I retreated my steps.

Why was it that every time I look at him or get some information regarding his personal life, I find myself staring at the reflection of my former self.