by Chevoque
If Aaliyah knew one thing about Madeline, it was that this quick ending of a conversation meant she was up to something Aaliyah wasn’t going to like. “Maddy, what—”
“See you later.” Madeline ended the call, which was a dead-on confirmation that Aaliyah needed to prepare herself for something she was most definitely not going to like.
***
An hour later she made her way into 21st Street, happy to have her face less exposed, as it was helping to push her confidence level far higher than the evening before. Madeline was already sitting at the back with her odd drink, and Aaliyah placed her order before she took her seat and looked at Madeline, determined to get her to speak.
“Hey, so your date?” Madeline fell right in.
“Nuh-uh, first, I want to know what you are planning.” Aaliyah could see the displeasure in Madeline’s sea-blue eyes. “Agh, fine! I’ll tell you, but then you tell me why you are looking like an evil bitch.”
Madeline gave her a proud little smirk and then Aaliyah went about to tell her about the date. “It sounds like you aren’t really giving him a chance,” was Madeline’s first response about halfway through. Aaliyah wanted to protest but instead she pressed on, adding that she enjoyed it and hoped Madeline would see she had given more than she ever had. “So when are you seeing him again?”
“Uhm…not sure. He said he’d call, which scares me.” Aaliyah only then realised that she was dreading the idea of not seeing him again.
“I hope it’s soon. He sounds like a great guy and, well, you look a little more confident, which is great, as it would really help for what I want to ask.”
Aaliyah let Madeline’s last compliment slip and focussed on the last part of her comment. “Ask me instead of coming up with a tenth century-style tale to get to the point. I’m already expecting the worst.”
Madeline took a deep breath, making quite a show of it, and said, “You have other marks and I was—”
“No,” Aaliyah flatly replied.
“But please, it will be next level—”
“Maddy, my face is more than what I’d ever want to share with the world, so there is no way I’ll ever consider what you are asking,” Aaliyah stated stiffly.
“Isn’t there any chance that I can just try?” Madeline nearly begged, but Aaliyah was standing her ground on this one. She was not going to expose herself any more than necessary. “Okay fine, I’ll figure out something else.” Madeline sat back in her seat and sighed like a teenager not getting her way.
“So, can’t you maybe paint or draw one of the approved portraits today?” Aaliyah asked.
“Yeah, sure. After this we can go to my place and chill out there, maybe go out tonight? I feel like dancing. It always helps me get inspired.” Madeline made a great gesture as she said this.
Aaliyah still felt the need to get out of her own head, so she smiled and nodded as she received her oolong tea. The idea of going out and aimlessly moving and shaking her body had her excited, because while it inspired Madeline, it always made her feel free.
***
Tristan
Tristan wasn’t at all happy when he had found out Valerie had once more returned the divorce papers unsigned. The prenup’s permittance of divorce after one year’s separation was less than one month from being granted, which would allow him to finally be free of the woman who knew too much and how to use it to her advantage. He decided to not ponder on the mistakes and focussed on the road as he made his way to his parents’ house on Sunday.
Isabella was on the seat next to him and her panting was a staccato in the otherwise quiet of the Sunday noon traffic. It was likely also the strangest image with the large brindle Great Dane sitting on the front seat, only just fitting her head in.
When he pulled into his parents’ driveway, she began bouncing in place, wanting to be released from the confined space. Stepping out of the car, he looked at the house he had spent most of his teen years in. The colonial-style architecture was what one could only associate with being a true home.
It had a white picket fence down and a great lawn in the front, which captured a thousand memories. He recalled the day he learned one of the most important lessons in life while the sun was scorching and the days were still filled with Gabriella’s laughter.
***
In the ’90 s, the world was the best place to be. It was in the dawn of technology’s great rising, and as a teen, these things were all the talk. To him, they were still just dreams. His father was doing well, but Tristan never asked for anything he didn’t truly need.
Then again, he never thought he needed anything when he saw his little sister laughing as she tried catching him while they played in the sprinkler’s mist. He would slow down so she was just out of reach and then give her a chance to catch him. She looked at him with admiration he never knew existed. She was in awe of him like he was the best person out there.
Sadly, at this stage in the Gerardo family’s rise to becoming one of the wealthiest families in the country, they still had little compared to the families in the houses around them. They moved into the neighbourhood only a week before, so the enormous house held little inside, but it was a great investment according to his father. To Tristan, the best improvement was the yard, where he and Gabriella had spent most of their time.
Tristan wasn’t sure what it all meant for the family’s future, but at that time in his life, he was just a kid and the neighbourhood’s teens of his age only knew one thing.
“Hey, reject!” he heard the boy from across the street call. Gabriella’s laughter faltered into silence. “Is it true that you two are mix breeds? Like mutts?”
In Tristan’s mind, there was no explanation as to what the blond teen with the crooked teeth, surrounded by his friends, meant, as they stood on the other side of the fence.
A friend of the boy commented. “My dad said that your family all hate you and your parents.” Tristan drew his hands into fists. “Which is likely why you have nothing other to do all day than to play with your little sister, because you are all mutts…and inbreeders.”
Gabriella’s tiny hand grabbed onto his. Her smile was fractured and her eyes were teary. As a child, she knew very well when they were being made fun of and Tristan feared he wouldn’t always be able to help her avoid these situations, but while he still could, he would protect her from the evil.
He bent down and whispered, “Go inside and draw. I’ll be with you now.” Her big brown eyes were wide, but she quickly scurried into the house. He faced the group of boys and hoped for a miracle.
“We heard your mum works, just like your father, so since none of our mums do, it must mean you are poor. My father said that you lot living here is bringing down our property value,” the first boy said.
“That is fantastic. You are able to use big words.” Tristan casually walked to the tap, closed the sprayer, and faced the kid he was already not fond of.
“You’re lucky I don’t want to get your lice on me. Otherwise I would’ve tackled you into next week.” The boy spitefully grunted.
“Don’t get too excited though. I heard you didn’t make the football team.” Tristan’s retaliation didn’t at all impress the boy. “Tackling is still a requirement, if I’m not mistaken.”
“You shut your mouth! My father will get me onto the team. You just wait and see!” Tristan laughed at him. “What is so funny?”
“Just that you are so pathetic, you need to be bought a place on the team.” This infuriated the boy, who then came into the yard and attempted to punch Tristan, but he anticipated it and ducked out of the way. Again the boy’s attempt came up empty as he hit the air next to Tristan’s face. Sadly, his luck had run out and the boy’s friends had grabbed hold of him, allowing the boy to place a solid punch right onto Tristan’s chin and then a second to his left eye.
“You don’t mess with the Parker family!” A few jabs made their way to Tristan’s core and he was starting to feel sick. “You don’t belong h
ere, so don’t act like you can be one of us!” The threats began cutting out as the world darkened, but only once he felt the cold ground beneath his fingertips did he know it was over.
He saw Gabriella peeking at him through the window, her eyes scared, but she knew it was safer inside and so she waited as Tristan attempted to find his feet, but only met pain. It was on his second try that he felt the firm grip of his father on his shoulder.
“Up you go. Come on now, let’s get you inside.” His father was a strong man and as he led him into the house, Gabriella smiled once more.
Tristan fell onto the couch, his head spinning. His father greeted Gabriella before bringing Tristan some ice for the bruises.
“What happened?” he asked, sounding mad at whoever did this while handing Tristan the ice pack.
“Nothing,” Tristan protested. He placed the ice pack on his eye; the cold bit the swollen flesh and he could barely see through it.
“Tristano?” His father added a tone of warning to the question.
He sighed. “It was just a few kids from the neighbourhood.”
“The Parkers’s son?” Tristan didn’t want to be a pussy and tell his father the truth. He wanted to deal with it himself, but the stern look on his father’s face quickly made him nod. “Were you defending our family name?” Just a nod and his father sighed, finally taking a seat. “One day, my son, this will all change.”
“But why do they call us mutts?”
Gabriella went to sit on their father’s lap, and he gave her a smile as she buried her head against his chest. “These families are all from old money and when a family like ours comes in and start making the amounts they do, they fear that we are starting communistic revolutions and that all hell might break loose.”
“But, Dad, we are not even as rich as they are.”
“Not yet, but one day, my boy, you’ll see them all begging at our feet for just an opportunity to work with us.” Tristan smiled at his father’s wild dream. “One day, we will be the best family, then you can show them that money doesn’t mean you need to be unkind.”
***
The front door opened and before he even reached it, Isabella was bolting past his father. After his father finally caught a break, he said, “Come help an old man in the garage with something before we go inside.” His father made it down the few steps and turned toward the garage.
“Hey, Dad, what’s going on?” Tristan reached his father, who then grabbed his shoulders and kissed his cheek before walking straight for the garage.
“It is Gabriella’s stuff.” As the realisation hit him, he stopped in his tracks. It had almost been eight years and every year was just as hard when he heard someone say her name.
“Wait, why do you want it?” Tristan asked, hesitant about hearing the answer.
His father faced him with familiar, yet emotionally-drained eyes. “It is time we give it to charity. We are holding on and your mum suggested that we all go through it together and then keep what we know needs to be kept.”
“When will it be exactly eight years?” Tristan felt a little lightheaded. Dealing with Valerie and now this so soon, it was going to be the end of him paired with how confused he was feeling about Aaliyah.
“Next Wednesday, which is why we wanted to do it today. Your mother and I aren’t going to be here next weekend, so we can’t all go through it together then.” Tristan knew his father tried hard to not show the pain and bitterness. His father had forgiven him years ago, but to Tristan it felt like he was still furious with him.
Entering the garage, his father reached for the ladder, but Tristan jumped ahead and grabbed the rope to bring it down. He made his way up into the garage’s attic and handed his father the boxes, mostly filled with Gabriella’s old clothes. He could still catch the faintest scent of her clinging to the fabrics, and he had to clear his throat in a weak attempt to fight the tears.
“I think there is one more with a few odds and ends. I’ll start taking these in,” his father said. Tristan searched for the other box and he found one half-filled with what was her old cell phone, letters from friends from before and after her passing, and a teddy bear he gave her with the money he won the first time he had gambled. It was a great memory now filled with sadness, as his ways back then were the reason she was now lost.
A flash of a memory of her bloodied face lifelessly staring back at him nearly caused him to trip over the steps as he headed down.
Walking around the side of the house, he saw Mrs. Parker returning from hell knew where. Her makeup looked smeared. She gave him an awkward nod and dashed into the house while he made his way to the front door.
Placing the boxes in the living room, he turned to face his mother. Her blond hair was kept in pristine condition with a pinup-style, and her blue eyes still held a soulfulness one rarely saw.
“Hello, darling.” She smiled with open arms.
Tristan made his way to his mother and gave her a kiss and a hug. “Hello, Mother. How are you?”
“Just splendid, and you?” Her eyes cleverly hid that she knew something, but he left it at that for the moment.
“I’m going on. Can I help with the food?” he asked as his father opened one of the boxes. He just wanted to avoid seeing anything else of Gabriella so early in the day.
“Just about done, but I would appreciate some help setting the table.” He nodded at her and followed behind as she made her way to the dining room. His mother told him about her week and keeping the mood easy, until she stopped what she was doing and faced him. “I heard Valerie still hasn’t signed?” She was being the rational woman instead of the caring, loving mother.
He sighed. “At least the year is almost over.” He pondered on it. “I take Ivan told you?”
She smiled guiltily. “I called when you were with the lawyers yesterday afternoon.” He sighed, feeling defeated and tired of this endless battle in getting back his life. “I also found out something else,” his mother said, attempting to lift his mood, but he was a little worried over what it might be she had found out. He raised a brow at her and her smile became one of pure excitement. “Ivan might have mentioned something about a girl.”
“Uhm, yeah…I…” This was one of those moments in his life he wanted to skip past, because he was very worried over what his mother thought of it all.
“Is she at least not like Val—”
“Anything but like Valerie. You’re going to love her…once I figure out if she will trust me.” His mother frowned. “It doesn’t matter. She doesn’t seem like the type to open up easily, but I really do like her.”
“Does she know of your situation with Valerie?” the rational woman asked.
He sighed, placing the forks and knives in their correct positions. “I’m hoping that the thing with Valerie will be over before things get serious between us.”
“You still need to be open with her about this. Explain to her the situation. The prenup might have allowed you both to continue dating after the separation without problems, which we know Valerie clearly took advantage of, but I don’t want to see you getting hurt when this news makes the girl feel like she can’t trust you.”
“The wise words of a mother,” he teased her.
She handed him the homemade bread to place on the table. “I heard Ivan said she has a quite beautiful birthmark. He mentioned something about a portrait, but I couldn’t quite understand what he was saying. Care to explain?”
Tristan was playing on a mighty fine line, but luckily for him, his father came from the living room. “Look at this.” He was smiling profusely as he showed them the stuffed Malayan tapir toy. Gabriella had received it as a small token of the actual baby she had “adopted” when on holiday in Thailand, when she had turned fourteen. It was her only wish that year, to pay for an endangered animal’s care, but her father surprised them all with a trip as well, so they could meet Suchart.
It was Tristan’s last holiday with her before all the bad took place, but he was
still paying for the tapir along with several other animals to be taken care of in his sister’s name. He only smiled as he took the teddy bear from his father and the faint scent of Gabriella was still there. He accepted that his family had forgiven him about what had happened, based only on how happy they all seemed in that moment, even if he was still not sure he’d ever forgive himself.
Chapter Seven
Aaliyah
Aaliyah checked the microscopic slides and her dozen or so notes one last time. She was sure she had identified and labelled them all correctly—at least up to genus level—but for the past two days she had been learning about the differences in the diatoms from the Sharpsburg Islands Marina and some from the enclosures of the zoo. The week before—the one in which she and Tristan had only spoken on the phone, as he was too busy for a date, which made her question far too many things—Dr. Ramadan had helped her to collect the samples and data, cook them and mount them on the microscope slides, causing this week to begin with a flurry of excitement to try and learn a group of plants she barely knew existed.
While Dr. Ramadan was the one who taught her these things, it was Professor Li who was going to evaluate her, so the panic was gripping her heart in a tight clench. Prof. Li didn’t seem necessarily mean, but she was stern from the few encounters she had with the tan toned woman since the week before.
After she looked at the samples, she turned to Aaliyah. “So, Ms. Labuschagne, do you have any conclusions?”
Aaliyah hadn’t thought that far, but she looked at her notes and the results in the graphs she had drawn up. She bit her lip as she perused through it all and took a deep breath to gain some courage. She looked at Prof. Li. “The most abundant of the genera was Diatoma, which indicates both the sources—when looking at the zoo enclosure’s water combined—are pretty much normal when it comes to ecological health. With the marina, there were particular species within the Naviculoid genera, which were the second most abundant in the source, indicating more polluted waters. And the presence of Nitzschia further confirms that the water from the marina is industrially polluted, as the genera usually occur more abundantly in water polluted in this manner.”
