My street was not too busy as most people were at work, kids were in school. The day was bright but cold. I had both hands stuck in my jacket pockets, conscious of the few eyes that trailed me while I walk past them. My mind wasn't thinking of anything at that moment as it had not fully settled on what to do. Yet, I believed Pam would be somewhere in Cardiff; hospital, home, school, the park, anywhere that necessity would pushed her to. As for me, I just walked with no destination.
I came to the poll I held when I threw up the first time I went to the hospital to see Pam. I stopped there, placed my hand where I believed I grabbed it to hold myself that day. I looked at the spot the two girls stood while telling me to go to the hospital and a few feet from the place, was the house their mother popped out from. That was the spot the idea of going to the hospital came to me. At that time, I never thought about the consequences of my actions or the ramification of getting involved with her. Then I remembered mother's words about taking a second to think before doing something. I shook my head slowly.
"Can I help you?" I heard a female voice behind me. I turned. "Are you lost?" It was the same woman that called the girls in the other day. She looked at me with the same cynical face she wore that day.
"No Ma'am, I'm not lost. Sorry." I said and walked on. A few minutes later, I got to the bus stop without knowing I was there.
There were people sitting there, perhaps waiting for the bus or just sitting on their own. Some were chatting while others were just sitting there with folded arms and straight faces. There was an old man in a grey coat and a hat, clamping a brown walking stick between his knees. The dark shades he wore made me think he was blind, but when he moved his left sleeve up a little to check out the time, I saw he's not.
A young lady smiled at the young man sitting next to her. I looked around me and saw nothing special there; the place has been like that ever since I got old enough to remember things.
There were two men talking, both smoking cigarettes. One of them was so restless and took desperate draws from his cigarette, speaking with a worried face. The other one was rather calm, keenly listening to the troubled guy.
"You shouldn't have said that to her." Said the calm guy right after he dropped down the remnant of his stick and stepped on it. "I expected you not to talk to her especially after you had plenty of booze. Where's is she now?"
"I don't know. Mermaid Quay was the last place I saw her. She didn't come home last night. And when I got back from my morning jog, her things were gone. Shit man!" He took another drag.
"Did you check with her mother’s?"
"I called her mama; she said she's not there."
"Bloody hell!"
"Bloody hell."
Bloody hell! I thought. If I do cigarettes, I would have had my lungs warmed up by a hundred sticks by now. That guy really looked bad; and I guess it's simply because he lost his woman.
My situation felt worse, I'm in love with a hopeless dying woman who obviously doesn’t want to be with me anymore. I walked away; taking a last glance at the bereaved guy smoking like his life critically depended on it.
Minutes later, I was in the bus heading to the Cardiff Bay.
I spent the better part of my half hour trip starring outside the window, at Cardiff. Cars, buildings, people, gardens and trees sped past me as our bus moved in the opposite direction. I wasn't looking up, but down at the roadside. If I were out sketching, I would have drawn continuous strips of colourful lines of white, grey, green and blue on the page to express the facets of my vision as the car sped.
When speed takes its full effect across a path, objects on the sides blend with one another, forming lines of colours. It's true of a colour wheel where secondary colours emerge from the primary as it blends. I think all my thoughts blended at that moment and created an opaque colour that totally blacked-out my thinking faculty. I swear I can't remember what I was thinking or what I thought. I just went with the motion. That's all.
I thought I'd feel better when I got back to my senses. A little bit of mental blackout was supposed to help with some composure, but I felt no excitement, no happiness nor indifference, only a static lump of pain in the hollows of my chest.
No one sits next to me in the bus, the only person nearer to me was like two seats away, so I had the assurance that no one was too close to measure the level of my emotional instability, unlike the guy at the bus stop.
I alighted at the Lloyd George Avenue and walked down past some iconic buildings to Mermaid Quay. My hands in my jacket pocket. My mouth bitter and my mind filled with images of Pam. I saw a slim blonde and thought it was her. I saw a redhead with heavy mascara, a little dragon tattoo on her left arm and a ring on her nose. She could be the girl the guy at the bus stop was looking for. A guy hit me on the shoulder and I turned. Hey! I said. He half turned, gave me the finger and walked on. I thought he looked like Phil.
The Quay was busy. I love shopping, dining and mingling with the crowd and the Quay was the perfect place for it.
I tried to blend in even though I wasn't in a happy mood. So I walked around looking at shops, cafes restaurants and people; and then to the waterfront to look at the yachts.
There were a lot of people there; a lot of excitement and good views. The brightness of the day had thrown colourful life on the scene and the people, creating excitement and vigour to the whole place. I counted three small yachts and few boats floating on the still waters. Everything was pretty much like a still picture. The scene reminded me of Canaletto's paintings of Venice, so scrupulous, so precise.
If Cardiff were Venice, I wouldn't have gone to a Roath Park and met a Pam. Even if I did, she wouldn't have reached me fast enough when she saw me sketching; she would have to swim. I smiled at the silly thought. And then I realized I was actually smiling for the first time that day. My outing was great. So I kept on watching the waterfront view and all that I can see.
The little vibration in my pocked got my attention. I hadn't realized my phone had been ringing for quite a few times; I saw two missed calls when I checked. It was mother.
"Where are you?" Her stern voice questioned. "You come back home now!" She added without letting me answer.
"What is it?" I said to a dead line. She had dropped the call. I'm not coming home; I murmured. "I don't want to come home."
For the first time, I began to hate how mother treats me. I began to feel really bad at her encroachment on my space, my life, my freedom.
I felt like been trapped in a huge cocoon or some kind of prison where I had to do whatever someone or something wants me to. I realized I was in hell!
I looked at the people around me; good, happy and cheerful people, smiling at each other and at whatever made them to smile. They all seemed to be having fun. I saw a family of four, holding each other happily as they watch across the waterfront. There was this old man talking to some young swimmers in merriment. Why can't I be happy, like them? What mistake did I make that forbade me from been happy for the past few days? Was meeting Pam a mistake? Was bringing her home a mistake? Why is mother so hard on me on this? Does mother even like Pam? I didn't think so. What would mother gain by not liking Pam? Was it because she's sick or dying? Or was it because she's afraid she's loosing me to Pam? Or was it because she's...Pam's parents!
"Oh shit!" They could have stormed our home now to attack mother.
We should be expecting a knock on our door for either the police or her furious parents... You don't expect a sixteen year old sick girl that disappeared mysteriously from a sick bed in a hospital to be left alone on the loose not to be looked for.
"Bloody Hell!" I turned back, pushed my way out of the crowd and into the streets.
I checked out the time at the bus station; twenty minutes before I can get the next bus; that's too much time. Harm could be done to my mother or any other person within twenty seconds. I can't wait. I waved a taxi and hopped in. I got out of the car twenty three minutes later and hurried into the house.
; The house was empty; that was the moment my heart almost stopped beating. Mother must have been taken.
My Favourite Muse Page 17
