Niko’s Eye

Chapter 46.

"Dusk to Dawn."

Zainab.

What does this piece of paper even mean?

"It seems to be a diary entry. But who’s diary entry? It’s shocking because it’s some sad content for whoever went through it."

"Let me see"’ Isis said as she snatched the piece of paper with her long fingers.

Zainab watched Isis as she skimmed through the paper. She finished reading and swiftly looked up into Zainab’s eyes, intimidating her a little.

"Did my grandmother have an emotionally abusive childhood or what?"

Zainab shook her head. "Your grandmother couldn’t have been 10 years old at the time of the date of the diary entry because look at her age now. I think it’s your mom. I mean, Aisha. Nana probably took it from her diary a long time ago. And now she’s trying to let you into her head a bit. I don’t know. That’s what I think."

Isis didn’t wait for Zainab to say anymore. She got up in a haste and flew out the door, probably to her grandmother’s room she thought.

"Oh s**t," Zainab muttered under her breath.

Drama. Let me go.

She followed behind Isis as Isis stormed into her grandmother’s room.

"Mami, what is this?" She said, holding up the piece of paper.

Isis grandmother was already in bed, and probably asleep before Isis disturbed her.

"Birdie, can we talk about it in the morning? I’m not feeling well."

Zainab felt a pinch of pity.

Poor old woman.

"Is this Aisha’s diary entry? And if it is, it seems like you and grandpa were responsible for her mental condition at the moment. Is that why you wanted me to read it, because you couldn’t tell me yourself?"

Isis’ grandmother plopped herself up in bed and sighed.

"I wouldn’t say I am responsible, or your grandfather. We did the best that we could, as parents. We were both also really young when we had Aisha, so we didn’t know how to navigate our situation. We tried to give her the best but she always strived for more. I was kicked out of my mother’s house because I fell pregnant with her. With all of that frustration, we fell out, and Aisha was always there to witness it. She used it as fuel to feed her sinister ambitions. But what I will take fault for, is not paying attention to her or giving her as much love as she should have gotten. You read the rest. She was beyond control. Almost as if she was a born-monster. That’s why she was so difficult to love. But I should’ve pushed harder instead of giving up. Now she is beyond redeemable." Belvia said, sobbing softly.

Isis scoffed, "I had thought myself awake but I can’t be. This is a nightmare of sorts, more vicious than most, more lucid. Time to get out of whatever this is, cold metal at my feet, cold metal in every direction. Every movement is costing more energy than it should, like someone just turned gravity way up. There is a c***k of light part way up a wall, a door perhaps? I can feel metal rods running upward. This is odd, I’d need to see it to know what to do. My heart is pounding fit to burst and my fists have clenched. I try to punch. My hand should hurt, should bounce off this metal, especially as emaciated as it is. That doesn’t happen though. It goes right through like it were a paper box. I take my other arm and rip the sides, peeling them back and step out. I’m on a black river that doesn’t flow. There are stars above, trees along the banks and from bizarre machines on wheels nearby there are lights as bright as the daytime sun but more white. Turning back I see what I have emerged from... a box. And now the doctors words come back to me to play again. "Your reality isn’t real." So either I wake up in the morning or the old bastard was right. If I don’t yawn and stretch beneath my beloved oak in a few hours he’d better look out, because if I’m in his world he’s dead already – he just hasn’t been informed. I’m sick of my reality."

Zainab watched as Isis just shook her head and walked out of the room.

"You’re all traitors."

What?

Alejandro.

Between the hail and the rain I’m okay where I am. In this warm room, seeing the streaming sunlight that comes regardless of clouds; I’m content to watch the ever changing picture that is the world beyond mine. The newly washed roofs gleam as brightly as mirrors, the blossom tenacious on the branches that dance. It’s a rainy day, one for the books, tea mugs and cozy socks.

Alejandro stood at his window, watching the rain outside.

It hasn’t rained in Barbados for months.

He loved the rain. Almost cried every time it rained. And the part that he loved the most was the smell of earth after it had rained. He wished they could make that into a cologne.

It would be brilliant.

His thoughts sending him to bed.

Alejandro stirs behind his closed eyelids, his mind ceasing dream-mode to bring him back to wakefulness. At first he’s slightly confused; he hears the fan he’s been cooling himself with this long dry summer, yet he knows he didn’t turn it on before bed. A slow smile creeps over his face. He doesn’t hear the drone of a fan he hears rain falling thickly outside.

It’s still raining?

The beautiful sound passing right through his open window. He rolls to get up as his eyes open and takes himself to see the rainfall, already feeling the soothing coldness of the breeze. There is the scent of wetness, so ever-present in the autumn but so rare for late August. Today will be a day for long pants and an umbrella, a strong black coffee and fried plantain on toast with chilli sauce. A day for enjoying all the things that go with a change in season.

The rain has fallen steadily without let up since before I woke. Outside the summer flowers and leaves droop under the weight of the droplets. We’ve had so much heat lately that I’d almost forgotten this feeling, the cool freshness in the breeze. Come late autumn I won’t be nearly be so impressed with the rain in whatever way it falls; it will be as ubiquitous as the lousy sit-coms and weight-loss advertisements. But for August it’s such a novelty that I find myself sitting on the front porch, coffee in hand, watching the drips as they fall from beneath the guttering. Simply being outside without the need for sunglasses, taking in the softened hues with my naked eyes, and listening to the drumming is a treat. Something about this rain has me more relaxed than I’ve been in days and I’m in no hurry for the clouds to vanish, returning us to the dry heat that is so customary at this time of year.

He thought he heard some commotion is his sleep but maybe he was dreaming.

The rain really helped me to sleep. Each raindrop is a kaleidoscope, if we could only see more closely. I wonder as I walk how it would be to stop time, to suspend this watery gift and peek through each one. Perhaps it would be fun to sit inside those raindrops and take that gravity propelled ride to the earth, as I imagine it I feel my inner self laughing - a little at the crazy daydream and a little at my own silliness. I see the rain beads upon the cars, upon each leaf and washing my outstretched fingers. Soon they will pull together, forming the puddles, opening up a whole new avenue of rain-related fun. Perhaps it isn’t normal to love a rainy day so much, but who cares about normal anyway? I’m pretty sure "normal" is a made up thing.

He satisfyingly stretched himself in bed, rolling over and around. Smiling to himself, he thought about Isis.

Real love is a protector, a defender, a ride-or-die connection that stays with you for always and in all ways. It is raw and it will roar for you if required. It will stay with you in quietness and be your comfort. Real love will celebrate with you, and raise you up. Real love will be okay with your sadness and kiss the scars you hide from others. It is rare. Treasure it. Keep it as long as live. For real love is the greatest blessing heaven can give.

When you have felt the difference between a real loving bond and a parasitic clasp, you will always remember and thus be better protected. A real love, a real lover, a true loving bond, will bring you to new strength and inner peace.

He got out of bed and walked into his bathroom, before hearing his cellphone ring.

"I just got in here! I haven’t even taken a morning piss, Jesus."

He walked over to his cellphone, annoyed. Looking at his screen, he saw a number he was unfamiliar with.

And it’s from...Mexico?