Leon

Some mornings had me thinking about the poem Grandpa used to recite when I was in kindergarten, Early to Bed, Early to Rise, makes a man healthy, wealthy and wise. Now, I believe that it didn't stand correct only for the children. And with due respect, Maximo was right that my skin was folding into wrinkles around the eyes because of lack of sleep. Early risers were said to have more time and energy to plan out their day. I floated sideways to cast a glance at my vibrating phone. It was around nine-thirty. Work calls and text chains yet to be answered. I leapt out of my bed bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, picked up a shirt and slipped it on. I knew I slept in a little, but I didn't mind it because it was Thursday. The sunlight seeped into my room and the sky was dotted with fluffy clouds once I cracked open the window.

I briskly snapped a cardamom pod with my right hand while I turned on to check my phone with my left hand. The bubbling tea swirled inside the electric kettle like an angry sea until I poured it into my cup.

Next, I sat on a chair near the window, smelling the eucalyptus-scented breeze. On Thursdays, I usually kept away from work and pursued unwinding. Getting up early in rare cases, staring at the symphony of nature, playing old records and taking Lessie out for dinner. I had a feeling that maybe today my schedule would be pushed by three hours. I slurped my tea and enjoyed reading today's newspaper in sunlight filtered through the window. The current affairs didn't excite me as did the feature writing page. I made to sure effort to stay intentionally unproductive because it was Friday. A day I scheduled for no important meetings and work. My face was pressed against the pillow and my hand extended to check the time on the clock. It was ten thirty. Nothing unusual.

But the echoes of exasperations in the air, the ravages of footsteps through the lobby and the bewildered presence of Maximo at the door stood testament to some ferocious trouble that took place in a long time.

"What? The sun is dancing on our heads and your eyes are still raw from sleep."

"I think you completely forgot that today is Thursday." When my words didn't wipe out the existing astonishment on his face for a while I added, "I understand late reception comes with a certain age. Yesterday I was reading an article that stated, that sometimes when you look back on your life, your back hurts. No problem," I resorted to my way of sarcasm and lifted my teacup. "Good morning, Maximo."

"Get dressed and come downstairs."

"Any special occasion? Tell them to come tomorrow." I continued to skim through the playlists on my tablet.

"Leon! Not a call from work."

"Then who are you talking about?"

"She is waiting for you. She has something to say."

"She?" I paused and recalled after giving a distasteful look. "Oh, that girl from last night, isn't gone yet?"

"She's been saying the same thing over and over again. . . that she's your wife."

"Didn't you think twice before bringing this to me? You should know that this only shows how incompetent you are in handling this stupid- trivial situation?" I resumed snickering and continued closing my eyes, "Throw her out."

"Leon if you could just give her a chance to talk to you."

"I have been giving her everything from help, a room to sleep and now the fettuccine Alfredo for breakfast, for all I care-" I said in a stern tone and got to my feet as I heard a loud glass-shattering noise, accepting a serious poise. "That sound. Maximo, did you hear it? Loud enough to indicate the object has fallen from a height."

"I hope it's not-"

"A chance find." I ended his sentence doubtfully rather remorsefully. "From the late eighteen century."

------

The sound took its time to leave my head - sharp and resounding. My eyes nearly watered. Along with the little shiny red pieces akin to the tartan shirt I was wearing, the pieces of my heart were also to be picked from the floor. Damn, the memories related to the ancient Japanese pot only aggravated me more. It was a gift from my Grand Pa who died the very next day after celebrating my twelfth birthday. I brought myself back and whipped my head toward the woman who stood on the other end of the hall, totally unaware.

"I can't stand women," I muttered. "I really can't stand women."

"Sorry."

"Now that you are on your feet. You should leave as early as possible." My upturned mouth might have suggested I was happy about the whole thing but my eyes had a look of disdain.

"I don't think there exists any wonderful abode than your husband's house."

"Alright. Let me know where your husband lives?"

"What a silly question! Are you even serious?"

I tilted my head sideways to pass a hard stare at the elder. "It's ten twenty-six and I'm dead serious. Why is she saying this? What did you just say?"

Her lips parted and she looked away assembling her nectar-tainted words to woe me. "Why are you acting as if you don't know me?"

"No. Look into my eyes."

She came closer to me. "Always ready to."

I breathed out. "And remember to be extra careful because whatever you say will be used against you." Half of the time during our conversation I fixed my gaze on Maximo as if I hinted to him I knew what her plan was. I wetted my upper lip and took two steps in her direction. "Do you even know who I am?"

"Yes."

"No, I'm definitely not as easy as yes."

"We believe that calling a husband's name will reduce his lifespan. Besides, you are older than me. How can I disrespect you in the first place."

"Oh stop using these absurd charades. I'm ready to give it to you- more and more if you want." I tried to entice her, "I hope you understand where this conversation is going."

She shook her shoulders. "Are you sure? Right here?"

"You are here to extract money, aren't I right?" I showcased my problem-solving skills along with my teeth.

"God forbid, I have no such ill intentions. I'm here because this is my home. Why do I have to explain myself?"

"No, because we can end this without hurting anyone. I give you the money, and you agree to leave."

"You are dissing me when you know how good of a wife I am to you!"

"But what's your name?" Maximo cut her off.

She looked stunned and flickered her long lashes. "My name, my name is. . ."

As she acted clueless the whole time, I victoriously repeated the question, "If a person takes this long to tell their name, this indicates that there is something wrong."

She panicked and held her head. "I can't remember my name. I just can't. And I'll see who throws me out of my home. Maximo, including you." She used her two fingers to project a deadly stare.

I flipped my lids and titled my body to see her go. "Is she even serious?"

When I saw Maximo behind me, he seemed to be grounded forever. "It beats me."

I frantically collected my phone from the table and stuck it against my red ear. "Hello, 911-"

A sturdy hand from behind held my hand in mid-air. "What are you doing?"

"Calling the police I guess. For I get her game plan."

"Hang it up. Don't involve the police in this. It will destroy her life."

"But "

"No."

I hated the fact that my morning had to start this way. Today, I not only lost a Japanese which was a dear piece of my heart but also a conversation with that girl. I gulped down and sat at the breakfast table where dark thoughts and a hopeless state were the two dishes on the empty plates.

_____

A few moments passed away. "Maximo, what are we waiting for? Some more destruction? You should have let her stayed in the store room instead. No, there are valuable Arti facts from Baghdad in there as well."

"Keep it mum, Leon. I'm thinking."

"Please stop thinking and start doing something. Why did you stop me from contacting the police in the first place?"

"Leon you don't understand, and you will never understand." I was astounded as he sounded so like my dead father. "What do you think about the girl?"

He was throwing fuel on an already simmering fire. "She's faking it, and is in dire need to see a doctor."

"Taking her to the doctor would be risky. But if we wear face masks-"

"We will be treated as patients - not her!"

"Why don't we talk pick brains with Doc Connor about it?"

"That would be the last thing I would ever do."

"He's a psychiatrist-"

"But a friend first." I raised my finger. "I don't want him to form misconceptions about displaying so much affection and care toward a girl I hardly care about."

"Leon."

"Yes."

Okay, it it clears the air. We are going to doc Ali's clinic."

"Oh, c'mon I'm very much looking to the moment when all this stops," I whisper loud enough for her to hear.