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My head is crowded with questions, most of which I'm kinda too frightened to ask. So instead, I just stand and stare at Kade.
He looks the same, but he's different.
I can feel the difference in him, something's changed.
What is it, what's this difference I feel? I ask myself.
The answer pops into my head with a cold clarity: distance.
Although Kade's standing close to me, he seems so far away, emotionally.
I take a step toward him, and to my horror, he takes a step back, away from me.
My throat's dry, my head thumps and my heart hurts – "Kade, what happened on the underground train, that's making you behave like this?" I ask, my words actually scrape and hurt my mouth on the way out.
He doesn't answer my question, instead he looks at the TV screen, "All my family are dead," he says, his face mournful.
My heart sinks a little lower and I have to take a slurp of water to lubricate my mouth and enable me to talk, "I'm your family, you still have me," I say, hopefully.
He swivels his head in a no gesture, "My blood family: mum, dad and Kelly, all gone."
Suddenly I feel nauseous by the fact that Kade may be blaming me for his loss.
I put the glass down and spurt out, "Little Kelvin, did he die in the explosion?"
Again, he swivels his 'no' – "Nobody died on the underground train explosion. But Kelvin's dead to me now, he's with the other kids, in the company of darkness. I thought it best to let him go," he says.
Slowly I slide my foot forward, desperate to get a little closer and have him take me in his arms and tell me everything's going to be ok. But like a watchful cat, he notices and steps back, stealth like.
The blonde waitress returns with disinfectant. She sprays Kade's table and while wiping it down announces, "I'm afraid you'll have to leave now, we're closing for staff training."
I suspect she's lying, and just wants rid of us, because quite frankly we look like a pair of homeless people, complete with bad body odor.
Kade walks to the door, with me trailing behind him, despondent and increasingly depressed.
......
Outside on the street, Kade stops and looks me over, from my head to my toes and back again, "You could do with cleaning yourself up," he says. I take his observation as criticism and it physically hurts. I become aware of all the fragrant smartly dressed women passing us by and become suddenly self-conscious.
"Kade, why are you acting like this?" I plead.
His head tilts, an eyebrow rises, "Like what?"
"You're treating me like a stranger and it hurts so bad," I say, struggling to hold back the tears.
