Chapter Seven

SEVEN

Cross Legged I stand outside the lantern shop. I do not know if I am too early or too late. Many people pass by. They throw a quick glance at the shop and pass. If the owner of the shop has changed her mind about hiring me, I would try again tomorrow and the day after tomorrow.

Working in this place could be a foolish decision. It is. But there is something about this place that has pulled me in and kept me amidst the dangers involved.

My eyes move around the environment brightly illuminated with solar lights, then I move my butt to the floor close to the entrance of the shop. The locks are simple; just a padlock which an iron rod or stone can break apart.

Soon, I see her approaching. She is no longer putting on what she was putting on at noon. Then she wore a blue jean with white shirt and a hat. Now she is in trousers with a see through net shirt that reveals her white bra. I get to my feet and wait.

‘’Hey,’’ she greets before putting her hand through the protector door to unlock it. She struggles with it for a while then she unlocks the inner door and widely opens it. I step in after her.

She moves and raises the trampoline that covers some lanterns in a part of the room. She moves back to the door and closes it, putting up the ‘’closed ‘’ sign.

She explains the different models and how they are to be arranged. The lamps have very weird names based on their patterns and some based on what she felt.

She caresses a leaf pattern lantern. ‘’Like this one.’’ She sets it on the shelf and puts it on. It gives off a leaf reflection to its surroundings. ‘’I call it memory.’’

‘’It is beautiful,’’ I say.

She pouts and dims her eyes as if in thought. ‘’ It is peaceful.’’

I continue my work in the presence of the delicate leaf cast glow of the lantern. My hands itch to draw closer and place my hand on the shelf where leaves would litter over my hand and I would raise them above the base of the shelf and watch them float as high as they can go.

There are other lanterns she calls memory. They are easily distinguishable. They are the ones she displayed at the first shelf like the very important group of the organization.

She is the one that mops the place when we are done arranging. I perch on a stool behind the counter. She removes her shirt and drops it with her sling bag on the counter before me. While looking at her, I open the zip of the bag and pass my hand freely inside it. There is nothing in the bag. I smile then step out for some air.

I love how there is no night in this place. I love the loud music I hear almost everywhere, the view of scantily clad women parading the street, the noise and the burst of activities.

Where I grew up was a more quiet place. At night everyone began to retreat inside their shells but it was at night I loved to come out after school. It was at night that I was thrown into that moving bus after Kent left me. I did not see the bus and everything happened quickly before the man in black before me turned blurry and my limbs became too heavy to move.

For a while I have not thought about that prison, the large quantity of food, the agonizing screams, that man I killed…

My hand quivers and I use both hands and hug my teddy to my chest. All over again, I can taste the blood in my mouth, vividly I see his blood stained shirt and the shock in his eyes as life leaves him.

I jam my teeth together as I stare into space, trying to shut the door to these memories. They keep flashing in - my body bent over a stool as he rubbed his protrusion over me, the craze I felt when he smacked me to the ground after I stabbed him.

It strengthens me to remember my pain but I choose not to. I walk back into the shop. The girl throws me a glance as I come in. She adjusts her bra before buttoning her shirt. ‘’Have you had some food?’

‘’No.’’

She moves toward the door and I step outside. She turns off the light and begins to lock up.’’We would make a quick stop to get something to eat. I'm so famished.’’

I stand there till she is done then we walk into the street. She is the one leading the way. I fall in step with her hugging my teddy. More times than I can count, I feel her eyes linger on me. I can almost taste the questions at the tip of her tongue.

We stop at a canteen and she moves inside while I stand outside. My eyes run from the left to the right and back into the cafeteria. A lady in a shimmery singlet and short standing at a pole opposite the road, winks at me. I wink back at her, she smiles and moves on.

I look into the cafeteria one more time and I see my employer coming out with two paper bags. I hop down the stairs and then she joins me.

‘’Do you live closeby?’’ I ask.

She stops and looks at me. ‘’ Are you tired?’’

I shake my head and then continue walking in silence.

‘’There is a short cut though. Come with me,’’ she says, diverting into an alley.

I follow her. Like I have come to associate with every dark alley in this place, the women on the floor attempting to drag any feet close enough. There were at both sides. I try to walk in the middle as much as I can.

The girl walking in front looks back. ‘’ Retards. ‘’

I do not know if it is an explanation having figured out I am a stranger here. ‘’ They are fewer now,’’ I say like I know anything when I have questions.

She turns into a building and looks back again. ‘’I think they import those women from somewhere. They are actually young girls.’’ she pauses to access me. ‘’Of our age.’’

We walk down the rooms at the ground floor then she knocks at the last door. two taps with her palm. She leans on the wall while we wait. Then a little boy opens the door. She hands him some money and we enter. The boy leads us past a sleeping man in the sitting room to the kitchen.

The girl opens the wooden window and jumps out. I follow her lead and the window shuts behind us immediately. She walks ahead to the story building opposite the building we came from. What separates these two buildings was just a small laundry space.

I aid to push the iron door at the entrance of the building then she begins to walk up the stairs. She stops at a door on the second floor. I wait while she lifts all the safety precautions of the place; bringing down the iron latch, unlocking four padlocks on the door.

Her apartment is neat and has flowers almost everywhere- from the glass centre table to the line of flowers close to the door. The television is on a high stool with books arranged under the stool. She rushes to remove some clothes folded on one of the brown cushions.

‘’You have no business with other parts of this house, ‘’ she says while unbuttoning her shirt. ‘’ I will ask my brother to clear out his room tomorrow but for tonight, you will use the couch.’’

‘’Your brother, is he moving out?’

‘’He now uses my father's room. My father is dead.’’

I could have asked about the mother but it was not my business. she does not stay in the house- that's all I need to know. I nod, looking around the place. She leaves me alone and I settle on a couch with the teddy on my legs. She comes back with some clothings.

‘’ So I got you a blanket and some clothes. You should use a bath.’’

I nod in agreement and follow her to the bathroom. The bathtub is all rusty and the drapes covering it are dirty and old. I refuse to imagine the state of the toilet beside the bath.

‘’ it's not been in use for a while but the water still runs.’’

I sit at the edge of the tub and begin to unbutton my shirt. She sighs and runs a hand on the dirty drapes. ‘’ I hope you know I am the one helping you, not the other way round. Do not make me have regrets.’’

‘’Whatever sails your boat,’’ I say.

She tilts her head and laughs. I shrug then she leaves. I close the wooden door and move towards the window. It is hard to see the view below from here. Standing on the tub and attempting to look down is not much different. I hang my clothes on the window pane with the teddy then I step into the tub where the water runs down my shoulder to my back.

I do not know at what point I borrowed some animalistic habits which made me forget how bathing should be done. I stand under the shower and let my body enjoy this new coolness, then I bring my head under it and let the water soak my hair.

The liquid bath soap is almost empty by the time I'm done. I try using my shirt to towel the tangled mass of hair before padding to the room. It is there I change into the sweater and trousers she provided me.

The television is still crackling. Strangely, I am at peace with this noise. I settle on the floor and put a knife into my wet hair, freeing a good chunk of hair from myself. In the case of Kent's side toy, I had used scissors. It had been easier and more exciting especially as she had been sleeping.

I use a smaller knife and trim down my hair like a worker would mow a field. Now I can easily run my hands on my scalp. I breathe in the air of freedom.

I can see nothing from the window here too but buildings. I hate being unable to see the world. I hate this restriction to the sitting room. My legs itches to tour the apartment till I can find a room that gives me a view of the city.

I pick a book under the television stool and settle beside it. From the colour of the book, I know the book is dated back to a long long time ago. Most of the leaves are torn and there are childish sprawlings on some pages. I have read this book before- ‘’The caucasian chalk circle’’

A wave of nostalgia hits me as I recall my days of stealing identity cards to borrow books from a school's library. Now those books are lying under my bed, cold and forgotten.