The Trail to Spring

Chapter 8

If the house we were standing in front of was ever an orphanage, it was now just a shadow of its past self. Most of the windows facing the street were broken and covered up with pieces of cardboard, plasters were coming out from the oddest of places and the house desperately needed a new coat of paint. The billboard pronouncing the name of the orphanage was almost fully covered with bird droppings.

"I am sorry for the person who has to live here," Atifa said making a pitiful face.

I approached the front door and after realising that there was no doorbell, just knocked on it as hard as I could.

For a moment I thought that no one was at home but soon I heard a faint creaking of wood and a loud thumping noise slowly advancing towards the door. The noise came as close as the other side of the front door and stopped suddenly. I realised that whoever it was on the other side was watching us through the keyhole.

Finally, the front door opened to reveal a huge giant of a man wearing half shorts which showed his hairy legs and a tight white tee which was unable to prevent a part of his stomach from protruding out, although he was as thin as a cucumber. His face was covered with a grizzly beard and moustache and noticing his red eyes, I figured he was in the middle of his afternoon siesta.

"What's it?," he asked in a not too friendly voice.

"I, um, we just wanted to know...," I started but before I could finish, the front door was slammed down on my face leaving me agape in surprise.

"Not interested," the man shouted from inside.

"But he didn't even hear what I wanted to say," I complained.

"Welcome to Real World 101. Nobody listens to you unless you make them care for it," Atifa said, in an enlightened voice.

"He will," I said before loudly knocking on the door again.

I heard the loud thumping noise advancing towards the door before it again stopped just short of opening it. I again felt the man watching us through his keyhole, before he peeped out his head by opening the door slightly.

"Get lost, dunder-heads," he said aggressively, spitting out some saliva in the process.

He was just going to close the door on my face but luckily I managed to lodge my foot in between the door ledge before he could do so. I pushed open the door and permitted myself inside.

"I have no wish to disturb you, sir," I said, finally letting go of the frustration that had been growing inside me since the morning and cornering him against the wall, "In fact, if circumstances were more favourable, I wouldn't even care to come near your face. But as it stands, I have got a brother to find and we have reasons to believe that he stayed here. So you will help us, sir, in the name of humanity. That is of course, if you have still got any."

The man cowered down on hearing my words.

"Alright, alright, girl, when did I say I won't help you?," he said, hurriedly, "Come in."

I beckoned Atifa inside. She was almost on the verge of tears trying to stop herself from laughing.

"I think I prefer you more as the Hulk, Maya," she grinned and followed me inside.

The inside of the house was as untidy and unkempt as the outside. There were dust accumulated in almost every corner and the cardboards stuck in almost every window gave the illusion of a perpetual night inside the house. The man led us to the kitchen where a kettle of tea was already boiling on the stove. There was just a single plastic chair in the whole room and the man slumped down on it, making the chair creak under his weight. A huge pile of newspapers were stacked on one side of the wall.