Zelene
He took the hand I offered and he seemed to just freeze in place. I could tell because I had seen a lot of people in that very trance. Usually at the hospital where I worked as a nurse.
But why had that happened the moment he shook my hand?
I had to admit that I felt something but it was almost latent. As if non existent. And no matter how hard I tried, I could not reach for it anymore.
He finally let me go but his eyes were on me and his mouth was slightly open. As if he had suddenly realized something surprising. I wanted to ask him what the problem was but it was already late and it was rather awkward.
So I drove towards my place.
I stayed with my friend, Dalia, and she was a busybody.
She was there when I opened the door and walked in.
"Haven't slept, I see," I said.
She was clad in a bum short and a spaghetti top. Her hear was tied and she didn't seem happy. "What happened?"
"I ran into some inconvenience," I said to her
"What sort of inconvenience?" she asked, and joined me on the couch.
"Some vagabond pulled a knife on me and tried to, you know.."
Her hands flew to her mouth. "Oh, my gosh. Are you okay?"
"Just a scratch," I showed the wrapped wound to her and her eyes went ostrich eggs.
"You fought him off?"
"No, I had help. Someone was there. Seemed like he scared the vagabond away."
"Was it a man?" she asked.
"Yeah, it was. He wanted to ensure that I get home safe but I didn't want to show him where I lived."
"Why? Did he act strange?"
I thought about the question and the answer I would give to it. Well, was the man strange? Somewhat. He had appeared out of nowhere and he seemed to go into some kind of trance after shaking my hand.
Maybe he was a psychic and had read my future.
The question was who was he? And what was he?
"I can't say that I am entirely sure," I said.
"Thank heavens nothing happened to you , and it wasn't that bad. Wouldn't know what to tell Mikey."
The moment she mentioned the name of my son, I remembered that I had totally forgotten about the most important person in my life.
Mikey was my son, though his father and I were separated. The man just couldn't bear to look at us and have a good day. He wished that I had never kept the child. So I felt it was better to let him go and do whatever he wanted to do with his life.
After all, the fault was mine for letting him get inside my pants and eventually in between my legs. I hadn't had good sex in a very long time. And shame on me if I ever went back to Mikey's dad.
I headed straight for Mike's room and found him sound asleep. I kissed his forehead and left the room.
Dalia followed me to my room, and eventually the bathroom. She helped me wash the wound and dress it.
"Never believed my hand would be wrapped in white bandage this week," I said.
"Yeah. And would you believe that Cain called?"
I looked at her. Cain was Mike's father. I had told him to stop calling me and it seemed he had gone ahead to start calling Dalia.
"What did he want?" I asked her.
"He wants his son," Dalia said, and the look that she gave me, I knew she was somehow fed up of my relationship with Mikey's dad.
But it clearly wasn't my fault. The man had been so self-concerned that he didn't even seem to recognize me back then. But after keeping the child, he somehow had a change of heart and wants to see the son he once rejected?
Why should anyone even blame for for not answering his calls? Or not wanting to talk to him?
"I'm sorry, Dalia. I didn't even know that he'd do something like that."
"You told him to stop calling you, right?" she asked, and dropped the scissors after wrapping my hand.
"Yeah, I did that."
"But he somehow got mine and decided to call."
"What were his words?"
"Straight to the point," she said and launched into a mimick. "I want to see my son. You tell your friend that when she comes back. Make it tomorrow."
"That sounds urgent. Maybe I should get a restraining order."
She gave me a look. "Can't tell you what to do with your life, Zel. Just don't pull Mikey into something toxic. He's too young for that right now."
I agreed with her. I didn't want Mikey growing up knowing that his father and mother weren't on the same page. And that his father was trying hard to get back, but she was refusing.
My grandmother had told me stories of witchcraft. If only those were true and I could somehow create a magic spell, then I would use it to keep Cain away from us.
Or just make him forget we ever existed.
Before I slept rhat night, I thought about the mysterious man who had shown up out of the blue and chased the vagabond away. I wasn't even expecting anyone to hear my cry for help and dash in.
He had taken one hell of a risk. Maybe the vagabond wasn't that desperate and didn't want to rob another.
But one minute he was holding the knife on my face, and the next he was gone. Just like that. Poof. Replaced by someone who helped me fix my flat tyre.
Things didn't happen like that, did they? I believed in logical explanations. And I wanted to assume that was a logical explanation for what happened out there.
I looked out the window in my room. No one was watching me from the shadows.
And I was disappointed. Was hoping to see him standing right on the street. Because I wanted to meet him again.