She looked at him with closed eyes. Tears oozing through the seals of her eyelids. She crawled closer to him. She pushed the sheets and bed covers aside; they stood in the way of her warmth. Her arm stretched and grabbed on his bareback. She pulled him closer. Like a magnet, she automatically pulled toward him. After the intensity of the week, his hot breath warmed her spirits.
A week ago, a call made its way to her phone. The name flashed on her phone. Horror run through her veins. Why had he called now? After all these years, he had decided today to call. Struck with sudden shock, she let the phone ring and ring and ring. A message flashed indicating that the call has been missed. Subsequently, another message appeared. The same number. Hesitant at first, she gingerly reached for her phone. She grabbed her phone with a shaking hand. Sweat seeping through her pores. The sweat accumulated on her fingers, so much so that her phone could not respond to her touch. Finally, she managed to dry her fingers and open her phone. The message waited for her.
“I have your son,” the message read,” and I don’t understand why that punk is with you when I care for you and your son. Get rid of him.”
Her fear froze her. The last time she spoke with the father of her son was after the court ruling that ordered her only son to live with the father. The father who already had a daughter with another woman. It took her a full 3 years to move on from the court ruling. In between those years, she found herself finding herself. The shackles of misery and worry broke away from the steel balls that sunk her into the ground. Slowly, her head raised above the clouds and she found peace. One day, at the local café, she was drinking coffee. It was a normal day. The sun was out but did not burn with intensity. The breeze gentle on the hairs of her skin. Rather than sitting inside, where she usually does, the weather was inviting enough for her to sit outside. It was the best decision she took to undergo the last stage of her transformation.
The weather was fine on this day. With thoughts of his future as his accomplice, he sat outside the local café to process his thoughts. Even though the weather was perfect on this day, he wore a baggy pair of track pants and a T-Shirt written “Ask me about Funeral Cover” with hair that had not been treated to a comb that morning. His mind was racing at to high a rate to focus about his appearance. And then it happened. At that moment when he sipped his coffee, the lady in front him sipped her coffee too. Their eyes locked into each other. They began to speak in a language that could not be translated into spoken tongue. Their communication was so intense, it was the sting of hot coffee that landed on his chest that broke the communication.
“Moer!” he yelled
She giggled. Luckily for her, she felt the extra flow of coffee leave her cup before it overflowed in her mouth. She gulped the extra coffee and placed the cup on the table. Like swallowing a whole jawbreaker, the coffee painstakingly went down her throat. Her eyes closed to the ache of the burn in her throat. After a minute or so, she finally opened her eyes. There he was. Next to her with eyes that searched deep into her soul.
Since then she has been the happiest woman to walk this Earth. She did not understand why now the father of her son, that she has never cared for thanks to him, suddenly called her. Who does he think he is to call her and tell her to stop seeing the man she now loves? She was terrified nonetheless. The reason why she left the father of her son was that the man was a hot head. He had went to prison for the murder of three men who according to witnesses, these three men “got to close” to the mother of his daughter. She was terrified of what he would do. Even though she was no longer with him, fear tuned the beat of her heart.
At work, during her lunch, she decided to stay in her cubicle to continue working. She had a lot due for a deadline scheduled for the following week, so she decided to cancel her lunch breaks until she got the job done. Her colleague, a short and very high-energy woman, approached her.
“Hey friend! There is a man saying that he is looking for you!”
Skeptical at first, she rose slowing from her desk. Her mind began to be flooded with the thoughts of her man. Maybe he was in the neighbourhood and decided to pay her visit. Maybe her brother was in town and was checking on his younger sister. A smile moulded on her face as she gently pushed her chair back underneath her desk. He turned around with the grace of a ballerina dancer ready for a warm embrace. Instead, death stared straight into her eyes.
He looked at the time. It was almost knock off time. On this day, exhaustion was reigning in his life. On this day, he would not be Mr. Extra Mile. On this day, the extra mile he will be taking will be the extra hour for his sleep. As he was walking towards the door to his freedom, his manager called him. He thought that perhaps the manager was going to ask why today he was leaving early. He bowed his head slightly and exhaled a huge rush of air. He slowly, with an exaggeration of fatigue on his face, turned around to face the manager. The manager was calm and told him that a woman and a man had arrived looking for him; and that they were in his office. Confused and shocked to the news, he fixed his face and walked with the manager to his office.
“I knew you not tired,” the manager joked as he opened the door.
He stood confused. His chest puffed upward and he raised his chin while leaning his shoulders back. This posture of dominance involuntarily aroused from the presence of the man who stood next to his woman. His woman whose eyes were red from the salt that filled her tears. The man looked deep into the stranger's eyes. He felt the war that his soul was engaged in with this man’s soul. Then suddenly, without warning, the stranger pushed his woman to the side. She fell hard on the edge of the manager's chair. The stranger instantly pulled a lupara from inside his leather jacket. The gun slung around his right shoulder and he landed firmly in his left hand. He cocked the gun and shot straight into the manager’s chest. The manager bounced onto the wall behind him and his eyes rolled deep into his skull. As the stranger turned towards him, the man ran hard into him. He bumped the stranger with his shoulder with so much force that he toppled over the stranger. This gave his woman enough time to escape from the situation. The workers went frantic and the office space turned into a jungle of wild humans looking to escape. The man looked into the assailant’s eyes. He punched him straight into the jaw and the assailant locked into a spasm. With no time to waste, he too made for the door.
He found his woman outside crying and drenched in tears. He grabbed her wrist and continued running. The parking lot was full of wild workers, all traumatized and frightened by the horror they had just witnessed. From the shadows, dazed and still stunned, the assailant emerged. His gun swinging freely from the strap that hung over his shoulder. His jacket fell to the floor as he stepped onto the parking lot.
“Stop right there punk!” A man in uniform yelled.
A man wearing the uniform of a security guard of a money transport vehicle pointed his rifle at the assailant. The assailant did not listen. He looked at the security guard and tried to aim at him. As he was lifting his lupara, the man in uniform shot two bullets straight into the man’s chest. The bullets exploded as they left the body through his back. The assailant fell on to his knees. He looked at the man in uniform and with his dying breath said, “none shall have the keeper of my heart.” With those words, his eyes rolled into his skull and collapsed dead.
A week after that accident, there she was. Her son sleeping safe in the room adjacent to theirs. Even though tears seeped through her eyes, washing her soul; she felt safe with the true keeper of her heart. As his warm breath warmed her inner being, she knew she was safe in his arms.