The whole drive home Ocean is dancing on my mind. I have my windows down and the night breeze is making me feel like I have wings– maybe this is what being inlove feels like.
Love again by Dua lipa is blazing through my speakers while I'm singing along tapping the steering wheel.
'I never thought that I would find a way out
I never thought I'd hear my heart beat so loud
I can't believe there's something left in my chest anymore
But goddamn, you got me in love again....'
'I used to think that I was made out of stone
I used to spend so many nights on my own
I never knew I had it in me to dance anymore
But goddamn, you got me in love.....'
While I'm jamming, I realize how much this song relates to me, especially this part about being made of stone and spending nights alone, hell, I spent my prom night alone.
I'm laughing at myself for being this vulnerable to a feeling I've had shut out for so long.
If it's with Ocean, I'm willing to be vulnerable to the last point. I feel this strong need protect her, if only I knew from what exactly then things would have been easier
The way she grew up has evoked a new emotion in me. It screams at me to hug her every chance I get and promise her a better life.
I drive through the back gate and jog a flight of stairs to my room from the outside. I don't want to disturb my parents' sleep and I certainly don't want them asking questions about my whereabouts until this late.
I take a quick shower and resign to bed, exhausted but lively.
"Ree!!" Someone is calling out my name, giggling. I look around for the source of the sound and I see her.
Aurburn hair flying behind her as she ran towards me in an orchid field. When she gets closer I notice a candle she is holding in both hands as she ran, the flame flickering in the wind. Tallow drops onto her pale skin and leaves a blister. When she gets to me, she hands the candle to me with one hand, the burnt one hidden behind her back. She is probably thinking that I don't know what happened.
My alarm goes off snapping me out of my bizzare dream, she was about to tell me what she wanted me to do with the light.
I wake up feeling strange. I pull myself out of bed and into my bathing room. The whole time I'm brushing my teeth, I keep feeling that there is something she is hiding from me. What could it be though.
I tuck the feeling away into 'the unresolved feelings' compartment of my mind and head downstairs to join my parents for breakfast.
"How are we starting our day today, what's for breakfast?" I ask as soon as I step into the kitchen. "Where are your manners young sir, won't you even say good morning to your parents before asking for food?" My mom teases, pulling my cheeks. I let out a humoured laugh and join my dad at the table.
I reach for my green smoothie waiting for Mom to join us.
"When did you come in yesterday?" Dad asks, looking at me pointedly. I clear my throat, surprised by the question. "Umm, around one I think. I took the back stairs, didn't what to disturb you guys." I say trying to portray the good son I am to my dad.
He slowly digs into his breakfast, as if contemplating about something to say, or trying to find the right words for it.
My dad isn't one to talk much but the air around him is always easy going despite his quiet nature. Today is different, the aura emanating from him is cryptic.
I cast a questioning glance towards mom and she just looks back at me and shrugs. I try to focus on meal but I can't get anything down. I'm about to break the silence when dad does first.
"Who was that young lady you were with yesterday?" He asks. His question gets me off the cuff. I look at my mom before answering, "Her name is Hazel, she is a friend." I opt for her fake name, to avoid any further confusion and having to explain myself. Mom clears her throat teasingly and I peep at her through my lashes pleadingly.
Dad has never shown interest in any of my friends before today. He has never asked about it, maybe I never gave him anything to ask about.
"What do you know about it." If his question had been bad, then this was a blow to my gut. Maybe the words weren't much but his facial expression was nerve racking. He had his interrogatory look on, treating his own kitchen like a court room.
I gather my scattered nerves and push words past my irritation and I reply, "Quite enough. Why?" It's my turn to ask questions.
He lifts his head from his breakfast and replies, "It's nothing son." His reply was one to say 'let us end this conversation right now.'
I pick what he's getting at and swallow my words.
The rest of breakfast was unbearably tense. It's something I have never experienced with my parents before. Could Ocean really be the one behind this tension or dad is going through something he isn't telling us. I wonder to myself, all the while picking on my breakfast.
"Eat Ree, I don't want you eating some junk fast foods on an empty stomach later." My mom reprimands and so I listen and stuff myself. My appetite has totally abandoned me.
A few more minutes of unbearable silence later,my dad gets up, grabs his car keys and walks out. Only when he gets to the door does he say, "I'll see you in the evening." To which mom replies, "Be home for dinner hun."
My head is screaming, Red flag. Dad has never skipped kissing mom good bye before, or did he forget? I wonder what was on his mind.
I drag myself upstairs, feeling a heavy burden on my shoulders.
I take a quick shower and head out. I'm still playing detective on Tim's case and the first picture up my clue board is the blonde.
I drive to campus to check for her details since I heard she is part of our department, wonder why I never saw her before.
"Ms Moleens, hie." I say, when I reach the front desk. I need to find a way to convince her to give me the blonde's phone number or address or both. Protocol doesn't allow that personal details be divulged.
"Mr Richards." She says, in recognition. That's a W for me, she still remembers me which makes the next step alot easier.
"I need your help. I need the blonde–'of course, I don't even know her name'– involved in Tim's case's details. Personal details. I don't know if you can help me." I say, trying to seem democratic but knowing full well that my surname has intimidated her already.
She debates over it for a while, her expressions changing from time to time, she's probably weighing which side will be beneficial to stick on.
"Fine lemme see what I can do." She finally says, ripping a page out of her diary and typing something into her computer. She scribbles something on the paper, folds it and discreetly hands it to me.
I'm driving to my usual cafe when I finally unfold the paper.
23 Kirst Avenue
027 445 3421
Please be careful.
A smile tugs at the corner of my lips at the last statement, of cause I will be.
I call her up, having decided against paying her a visit, wouldn't want her reporting me for trespassing. She picks up after the 3rd ring and I dictate a series of instructions into the mouthpiece, I know this will make her leave whatever she is doing and rush over.
I send her an address and head there myself.
I order myself a cappuccino, tuck myself into a corner booth and open my Mac book.
The waiting gets on my nerves, by the time she finally arrives, I'm already in a foul mood.
"Sit." I command, to which she complies. "What's your name?" I ask, to which she flatters her eyes up to mine in surprise. "Umm, Courtney." She replies and continues, "Can I ask you something?" "That's already a question, why do you need permission for the next one?" I sneer back. I drag in a long calming breath when I realize that the kind of approach I've adopted won't get us anywhere.
"Go, on. Ask." I say, trying to act cordial. "Why are you doing all this? I mean he is gone already." She says, I understand where she is coming from, but I have a gut feeling that there is something more to his death. I simply reply,"He needs justice, and you will help me serve it to him."