When Bluebirds Fly | ✔

Part One : Chapter Six

My alarm tone was the typical yelling of the vitriolic couple upstairs and as I tiredly emerged out of my early teens' decorated room, dad did too, dressed in his white undershirt and calf-length trousers. "What time is it papá?"

"Siete," dad replied wearily, stifling a yawn. "They started early today."

"Yeah, it isn't eight yet." I languidly walked towards the cleaning cabinet in our tiny kitchen. Opening the wooden door with its broken knob, I reached for the broom which suffered from progressive hair-fall. "They should get a divorce. It'll be a favour to all us residents. Honestly."

I heard a low chuckle and just when I began sweeping the floor, dad plucked the broom from my hand. "Let's go for a walk first."

He was already striding towards his bedroom, looking for a clean t-shirt to wear before I could respond. We used to go to long strolls in the better part of the town where people were clad in gym clothes which always looked new and branded shoes with their bright logos. We used to end our walks with two scoops of ice cream each, regardless of the time or weather. We used to come home all sweaty and fight for who would shower first. Used to.

Then dad lost his job and every day was a long, purposive walk for him which ended with futile sweat and never ice cream.

I was cynical about what changed today, but I wasn't complaining. I hurried to my room and discarding my faded pyjamas, I slipped on less faded blue jeans and a white shirt. Dad was patiently waiting in the corridor, his once tight t-shirt now hanging loosely around his broad shoulders.

"Good morning," our neighbour's hoarse voice greeted us before we could wander out. His greying hair revealed flashes of white under the morning sunlight. "Where are you both heading to?"

Some place where nosy neighbours couldn't find us.

"To a walk," my dad said politely. "Settling in Abel?"

"Oh no." Abel bent down to tie his shoelaces. "There's not going to be any settling in. I'm out of this place as soon as I can."

Dad nodded mutely, but I knew what he was thinking. Too ambitious. Too foolish. But Abel made this apartment sound like this was the worst place on earth. Not true. The buildings (if I could even call them that) next street were much worse- every two months a man was found dead, a daughter kidnapped, a child thrown into foster care, a son accused as a perpetrator of horrific crime he probably didn't commit and a mother trying to prostitute herself. And I didn't have to start on the motels beyond that, they were the heart where the blood of the victims flowed.

"We'll go then?" I tugged at my dad's arm.

"See you later," Abel said as cheerfully as he could with his gruff voice. "I'm off jogging."

"Keeps one fit," dad said almost to himself. "See you later." As we advanced ahead, dad muttered, "Estúpido."

"I know right!" I exclaimed, too loud for anyone within a mile to hear.

The next few moments, dad and I were scurrying out of this rotten place, dodging any further pleasantries with our neighbours. Except for Sam. Sam who looked fresh like a tulip awoken with dewdrops in his thrifted bomber jacket, a band t-shirt and skinny jeans. He usually wore that jacket when he had a date.

"A date?" I shouted from the gate since he was on the opposite side of the street. He immediately crossed the road without bothering to look out for rash bikes and cars which disturbed me. "You didn't have to cross."

"Hello uncle," he first addressed dad who gave him a comfortable smile. Then he shoved his thin hands in the pockets of his jacket which suspiciously held what seemed like cigarettes. He better not expose himself in front of my dad who considered him as his own son and wouldn't hesitate to lecture him. "Where are you going?"