12.
That night I have feverish dreams. Images that come to me in between waking and sleeping. The penetrating red gaze of Lucas won’t let me go. His voice repeats my name, not in an inviting way, but more authoritatively, commanding. Then I see Selena again ridiculing me and looking sneeringly at me.
When I wake up in the morning, way to early in my view, I’m soaking wet in sweat and my mind feels as if a bulldozer steamrollered it. I keep lying down for a while, staring at the ceiling, but under no circumstances planning to fall asleep again.
Eventually I get up and take a cold shower. I put on a jeans and a purple blouse, put on a bit of mascara, pin up my hair and feel myself coming alive a little. In order to calm down my heaviest emotions I clean my pistol without thinking. I strip it down entirely and clean every little piece and detail before putting them together again. It almost helps as much as meditating.
When I go to the kitchen, I don’t meet anyone. A look at my watch explains everything. Diedie is watching one of her soaps and I suspect Jabar is combing all the newspaper reports upstairs or working in his herb garden. I make a pot of coffee and butter a sandwich while I’m waiting for the coffee to perk.
On the one hand I hope Lucas doesn’t appear in the pub again tomorrow evening. After that wild dream from last night I feel a bit fear and disgust for him. On the other hand I want to give him hell for his manipulating behavior. And a tiny part of me longs for him. A part I’d rather ignore and keep off.
I eat the sandwich standing up and walk into the garden with my cup of coffee. When I look up I can see a light blue sky with ominously dark clouds here and there. It can still go both ways today; stay dry or rain. It’s colder than yesterday and I pity the fact I didn’t put a warm sweater or coat on.
I find Jabar in the garden shed where he’s putting seeds in flowerpots. Up to the ceiling are plastic pots and cups on shelves and in glazed cabinets. It smells of potting compost and fertilizer in there. Jabar repots the little plants with love several times, so they can optimally grow. I find it gorgeous to follow the growth of the seeds starting from their littlest germination. Jabar’s hands are covered with earth, up to his cuticles.
‘Hi’,’ I greet.
‘Good morning Manon.’ He looks at me from the corners of his eyes. ‘Will you join me to the auction this afternoon?’
‘Sure.’
Jabar takes a watering can and fills it with water. ‘Oded is coming too, since the bar is closed today.’
‘Cool.’
‘I hung a ventilator from every ceiling in the attic. It will bring at least a little bit of refreshment.’
‘Sweet, thanks!’
‘Here.’ Jabar hands over the watering can to me. ‘A little bit on each plant in that greenhouse over there.’
I put my cup of coffee on the table in the middle, in between all the mess. ‘Do you trust me?’
He raises his eyebrows interrogatively.
‘I mean with your plants, your children,’ I chuckle.
‘Yes, of course.’
He continues with the seeds and I open the greenhouse. The heat from the hothouse rises and I can smell that wonderful fresh scent of growing greenery. I carefully water each plant with a few drops.
‘And if I fuck up you’ll just do your mojo, right?’ I say.
‘Where did you pick up that word?’
‘I just think it sounds neat.’
‘Hm, at moments like this I feel old.’
‘Because of the word?’
Jabar's grins a crooked grin. ‘Because of the fact that everything changes, even words and expressions.’
‘Don’t worry about it.’ I give him a soft slap. ‘You’re still young at heart.’
He makes a grumbling sound.
‘Is Diedie coming to the auction too?’ I ask.
‘No. She wants to give the first floor a decent cleanup.’
‘Do you have set your sights on something there?’
Jabar is going to wash his hands. ‘Two paintings from the Italian school. Oil paint on metal.’
Jabar almost weakly goes to the auctioneering firm. Collecting art is a great passion for him. But unlike most of the stinking rich art collectors, he won’t let himself get led by the value, but by the beauty and emotions a certain item sets free.
‘I’m curious,’ I say and I mean it.
It wasn’t for nothing I’d studied Plastic Arts at St. Lucas in Ghent the last three years of my high school education. Not that I’m an art expert now, not at all, but I know something about it. After my high school education I actually have thought about refining my art knowledge through a higher study, but I didn’t go through with it. Jabar was growing older and seriously wanted to begin with my training. He started late with my fight training, when I was about fifteen years old, because he wanted to give me a carefree childhood. After my graduating and a few months of holiday I began to work halftime in Oded’s pub and Jabar’s training got more intensive.
Jabar dries his hands and continues: ‘Especially that one painting is wonderful. It’s called ‘Man with harp and young girl’. It reminds me a little bit of us.’
‘Now you’re really making me curious,’ I grin.
‘The scene is really charming. Like a father giving good advice to his daughter.’
On the spur of the moment I run to him and kiss him on the cheek. ‘You are my father.’
Jabar smiles and continues a bit unaccustomed with his activities.
Although I never call him daddy or father, he really is to me. I was only a few months old when he found me in front of his door. He still lived in London back then, but he was on the verge of relocating to his house in Belgium. He didn’t need to think about it for a moment to take me in and to adopt me and he raised me as his own daughter. Together with Diedie for that matter, who I consider to be my mother.
‘I’m done!’ I put the watering can back in its usual place. ‘Then I’ll go and ask Diedie whether she needs my help until we’re off to the auction.’ I take the cup with me and walk inside.
The air has become darker all of a sudden, which makes me extremely longing for sun and the summer. Since I feel like a fridge after transforming the summer temperature is far more pleasant than the winter for me. Therefore I give preference to orders in hot, exotic places.
Jabar promised me that, when it’s time to move again, I can pick a residency myself, anywhere I want. Since then I’ve been regularly browsing around the internet looking for far away sunny locations and their habits, culture, temperature and so on. At this moment I doubt between Southern France and the Bahamas. But this can also be packed in again next week.
Diedie can be found in the kitchen, where she’s peeling potatoes.
She looks up at me, radiant with joy: ‘Brooke and Ridge are an item again.’
‘Eh?’
‘Brooke and Ridge,’ she repeats. ‘You know.’
‘Oh, of course, from your soap series.’
She holds a potato as if it’s a handsome guy and has a faraway look. ‘Hm, they fit perfectly together.’
‘Diedie, they’re actors!’
‘Even I know that,’ she answers indignant.
‘Can I help you with something?’
She glances backward. ‘If you don’t mind, you may clean the sprouts over there.’
I take the bag with sprouts and a paring knife out of the drawer, get a seat next to Diedie at the table and start to remove the outer leaves.
‘Sharon called,’ Diedie says.
‘Sharon! How nice. When?’
‘Just a minute ago. I thought you were still asleep, sorry.’
‘I’ll call her back later on.’
Because of my otherkindness I deliberately kept people at a distance during my school-going years and never had that much friends. Sharon is an exception to that rule and she’s still my best friend. Unfortunately, because her parents already lived too long in Belgium, she moved to Canada. We didn’t see each other much in the last few years, but we call and e-mail each other regularly.
It was by accident that I discovered she was an angel. Gifts only find expression during puberty, so we already were in the same grade for a few years before I knew.
We still have to laugh when we think back to that day at school. We were both fourteen years old then. I was sitting on the toilet with the lid closed, my feet held up high and left the door ajar when Sharon walked into the room. I wanted to be alone because I was really fed up. I had just heard that I scored a D for history instead of the expected B. Since the toilets were desolated at that period and I wanted to sulk without being seen, I was sitting over there. Sharon was convinced she was alone in the room, because all the doors were open, when she took the toilet next to mine. Apparently she ran out of toilet paper and she decided to get my roll to her with her telekinetic powers. I was able to see the joke of scaring the living daylights out of her and stopped the roll. With my other hand over my mouth I tried hard not to laugh. She swore like a ruddy docker. Naturally she had heard me chuckling and she told me later on that she had nervously hold her breath and barely dared to move. Her parents would have been furious if a human being had discovered her gift, so she could just see the punishment.
Very carefully I saw her head appear under the partition wall. I can still see that desperate look in her eyes, not sure how to react. And afterwards the relief when she heard I was an otherkind too. Since then we share all life’s joys and sorrows with each other and we cried a lot at our goodbye. I miss her so fucking hard.
Diedie brings me back to the now. ‘I think she’s in love.’
‘Sharon is in love every day. Every day with someone else.’
Diedie chuckles. ‘That girl got through boyfriends faster than I through panties.’
‘Ah well, she’s right to do so,’ I say. ‘I wish I could live so openly. Every day is a party to her.’
‘You’re not an angel, Manon. Angels fall in love very easily and at the same time dump someone as easily. You’re not like that.’
I shrug. ‘A vamp tried to seduce me yesterday.’
‘A vamp? Be careful with those. They’re not always to be trusted.’
She means well, but sometimes I just can’t stand the patronizing. ‘I know that myself,’ I say way too harsh.
I can see her literally writhe.
‘I’m sorry, Diedie, you’re right.’
‘And I have to accept you’re a big girl now.’
We smile at each other sheepishly and go on with our vegetables in silence.
‘You know,’ I say a bit later. ‘That jerk even tried to hypnotize me.’
Diedie heaves a deep sigh. ‘You would think that they don’t get a partner in any other way. What has come over them?’
Jabar enters the kitchen. ‘I’m going to take a shower. The auction starts in an hour.’
‘Okay,’ I answer. ‘You really don’t want to join us, Diedie?’
‘No, honey, a big house like this requires a great deal of maintenance.’
‘Jabar would understand and the dust won’t go anywhere.’
Diedie puts a hand on my arm. ‘You two just go. I’ll have fun in here with the cobwebs and the clouds of dust.’
‘Okay.’ I stand up to throw the waste of the sprouts in the appropriate litterbin.
If I would be in her shoes I would use magic to clean the house. Luckily, I’m not a witch. With the power of magic I would certainly abuse my gift more often, I suspect. But who knows what she does when we’re not around. But then again, I can’t really imagine it. Diedie is very strict with regard to use and abuse of gifts.
‘Is there anything I can still help you with?’
‘No, sweetie. Thanks for the sprouts.’
‘De nada. I’m still gonna read for a while than.’
‘Alright, girl.’