Diallo is poor but gifted with the ability to tell great lies. After a bad afternoon with his friend Paul in which he nearly ends up in jail, the pair rely on fate to change their lives.
"Let's play it with a coin!" He says. "Flip a coin. Face: our...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
I am here, laying on the couch of the hotel lobby with my head resting on my mom's laps. She strokes my head then says, "You ran straight from the train station to the hotel. Georgia at the reception thought something really bad happened just by the look on your face."
"I'm sorry, mom, I didn't want to cause any trouble!" I rub my hand over my face and sit up. I don't even know what has gone into me with Emilie. "You should go back to whatever you were doing!" is all I can come up with.
"Let me have another cuddle!" She suddenly holds me back in her arms tighter and kisses my cheek as if I were still a toddler.
Gross!
I wipe my face and say, "Mom, everybody is watching us!"
"I'm your mom and forever will be; no one will forbid me to kiss that face I made and carried for nine months in my womb, and Henry is already back to work so you don't have to worry."
Henry, I forgot about him. It wasn't the best way to meet your future stepfather.
My chin raises up at her and my eyes peep at her sideways while I ask, "So you have been dating him for like five years?" She nods, her face now lowering. "Why didn't you tell me anything?"
"I was waiting for the right time," she says, taking a deep breath before looking at me. "And what I was afraid would happen just happened. You shoved my boyfriend into an armchair."
"I'm sorry about that!"
"You should, because I raised you better than this, and next time we'll all go to that same place you took me, and we will pay for your dinner, deal?" She stretches her hand at me.
I smile and take her in my arms, "Deal!" but I couldn't help to wonder, "What is his job anyway?"
"He is a cab driver," she answers. "So tell me more about this holiday in Paris."
Mom never loses the plot!
"Mom, forget about it!" I snort while repeating the same thing. Emilie is gone and there is nothing I can do about it.
"Is it about this girl?"
"No freaking way?" I chuckle, and she gives me that look. With this expression that speaks more than a thousand words, she knows I'm lying to her.
"Diallo Jones, I've known you since the day you were born!" she says as I make a voiceless impression of her. "It was you who knocked my ashtray, not Fluffy!"
I grimace, "What?"
"Then you told that teacher of yours that our dog died, and that's why I knew that you lied to her!"
"Theoretically, it wasn't a lie because Fluffy did die a month later, but how do you know?"
"Mrs. Raymond brought me a huge bouquet of flowers on the same day, and then Fluffy ran out to greet her," she reveals with one eyebrow raised. Now, I understand why Mrs. Raymond never interacted with me after that day. "Now, Diallo Jones, tell me about this sudden idea of a holiday that could not wait."
Mom always has her own way of looking through me as if I were completely transparent to her, and this is when I weep my heart out. Emilie is indeed more than just an online friend to me, and maybe she doesn't love me or care about me the same way, but I was connected to her, and now it just hurts. Mom takes me in her arms and gives me a big rub on my back.
"It will be alright, Diallo!" she whispers to my ear with another kiss on my cheek.
It feels like déjà vu, and the sudden memory of Dad abandoning us just floods my mind. Mom slept next to me for a whole year, pretending to everyone that I didn't cope well with the situation while, in fact, she was the one who couldn't accept it. I still remember hearing her cries over my head late at night. I still remember everything, and I pat her arms around me.
"Thank you, mom!"
"Now go home; you need to catch up on your sleep because you start early and I will soon start my shift!" I give her the same look; this is an even bigger lie than I've ever heard from her. "What!"
"Yeah, have a good evening!" I cough.
After saying good-bye to Mom, I walk back home feeling a bit better. I check the notifications on my phone. My message board is still covered with people asking about M, but I just answer the same old truth: 'I don't know!' They also replaced her on Dreamland. It was a tough call because they did set up a whole channel about her leaving with no traces. They all cried about her, then as the days went by, the conversation just went in circles, promoting more of her forgotten works than finding any clue.
This is until someone adds a link to the conversation. "Hello, I just found out Jane Toppan wrote a review of M's book."
"THE Jane Toppan?" Another answer on the link with many scared smiley faces.
"Burn the witch! That mad woman is brutal!" says a newcomer to the chatroom. "I know she lost her husband, but her review roasted people more than it helped them!"
"Guys, I block her! There is no way she can get to any of my books!"
"Don't tempt the devil; she will always find her ways to get to you!"
All those reactions intrigue me, so I click on the link to check out "Of Tears and Fire"'s review.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
