Tuesday, October 5, 2010

So close and yet so far apart...


When the school finished, Saranda saw the familiar car waiting outside her school.

    "Mrs Hysa," she screamed in panic and sat inside the car thinking something is wrong.

    "There you are," Mrs Hysa looked at her closely: "Nothing is wrong, only your Mum wants me to talk to .."

    "I have to pick up Dardon from the Upper Primary," Saranda quickly said.

    "Yes, I know, let's go," Mrs Hysa started the car and continued: "I would like you to be more considerated of your Mum's condition and also understand that you Dad is now extremely busy with his school's religious position, you have to be more helpful..."

    "More helpful!" Saranda shouted in dismay: "I have to help with all domestic chores, cooking and also Dardon with his homework, every day, while Dardon is playing soccer and enjoying himself..."

    "Everyone has different place and responsibilities in one's family," Mrs Hysa smiled at her gently: "And what about your mysterious disappearances from home?"

    "Everyone has right to breathe and find out about life, it's not fair that Dad pushing me to live up to his recent religious ideal, it's not me, I was not brought up that way!"

    "It's the religion of our forbearers, of your Grandmother," Mrs Hysa sighed, "My family left Kosove before the Communists shut all the Mosques and I grew up here, where you can take it easy and forget where you come from." Mrs Hysa turned to Saranda and then quickly checked the lights at the crossroads: "Is this Dardon's Muslim school?"

    "Yep, just turn left after the intersection," Saranda pointed her hand on the left and continued: "I know all of that, Mrs Hysa, I only feel that Mum and Dad are not like they used to be, I wish sometimes to be back in Kosove and be little again, my Mum she is so..."

    "Your Mum is really worried, that something awful may happen to you and she promised to God to tell Dad if you once more leave the house without telling her where you go," Mrs Hysa shook her head in disagreement: "Dardon mentioned a friend of yours, a homeless kid?"

    "Fine." Saranda clenched her teeth and looked out of the window thinking about her little dobbing brother.

    "Look, I can see Dardon," Mrs Hysa stopped the car and waived to the boy, then she turned to Saranda: "Try to understand, Saranda, your family clings to Islam, because there is only thing they got left," Mrs Hysa pulled at her scarf: "Your origin, your religion makes you who you are...oh, hi Dardon, how was school today?" She smiled when Dardon entered the car.

   "Gross, what's happening?" Dardon looked at Mrs Hysa hoping she takes them to some exciting place and he missed Saranda's hateful glare.

    "I'm only dropping you off home today, my little girl finishes her dancing lesson soon...but," Mrs Hysa winked at him: "Do you remember what George, your swimming instructor promised about visiting his parents in York and spending weekend there?"

    "Yeep, but that was a few monts ago."

    "So he finally asked me to arrange this long weekend's trip with your parents, unfortunatelly you Mum feels too sick, and there is Victor...your Father is too busy..."

    "But, I want to go," Dardon exclaimed.

    "Who cares, what you want," Saranda said sharply.

    "Saranda," Mrs Hysa sighed impatiently: "Your parents gave me permission to take you ont the trip, both of you of course."

Saranda nodded and looked out of the window. She thought about George missing his boy terribly and Jack, his boy, roaming streets aimlessly and sleeping rough under the bridge just few yards from his Father's flat. She imagined George looking out of the window on the dark bridge in disapearing light never realizing how close to home his son actually is. They are so close and so far apart.


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