The Gorko Gazette

Lack Thereof

by Mehreen Ahmed

The clock struck three AM.

             Meaka lay in the darkness of her room. She thought what she should do next. Get out of bed perhaps, even though it was not time? Although her limbs would not give an inch, her brain kept saying otherwise; it was racing, racing like crazy. In the semi-darkness, she looked across the room at an empty chair, sitting in the corner. Her gaze fixed on it, almost asking it for a solution; but this overwhelming inertia was hard to knock off.

            When she finally got out of bed, restlessness seized her. It was four AM; just a few hours from now, she was meeting a friend for coffee. Slipping into her sandals in the quiet room, she grabbed her dressing gown. She opened the door softly and went into the living room. Through the open slits between the blinds, she saw a pale morning; set against a tranquil sky, it waited patiently for the sun to brush it up in rouge across its countenance.

            She was going to have breakfast with Riana. A peculiar pleasure possessed her and sent a ripple through her senses. Last week’s coffee meeting was such an eye-opener; none of Riana’s stories moved her as much as this one did.

            When Riana was five-years-old, an accident had left her disabled. Friendless, she grew up feeling rejected, frustrated, and empty. No one played with her at school until she met Rick, who filled her with sweet sensations. Now, married with two lovely boys, she lived with Rick in the next suburb, Campsie. Meaka and Riana had been friends for over two years. For Riana, Meaka was her best friend, her shoulder to cry on. For Meaka, however, well, she was only just beginning to warm up to her.

            Waiting for Riana at the Coffee Club, Meaka flicked through the menu, wondering what was holding her up. She was generally not this late. Her mobile rang out as she tried to call her. Meaka waited for ten more minutes until she appeared. She wore a tweed short skirt and a red top with a deep neckline. Her cascading black hair shone in the golden sun. She crossed the road. At a slow pace, she came on to the other side, limping as usual, but securely holding her little boy’s hand.

            ‘Hi Meaks,’ she said, pulling up a chair.

            ‘Hi. I have been waiting forever now.’

            ‘And, how are you Mat, my little mate?’ Meaka asked the boy.

            ‘Good.’

            ‘What took you so long?’

            ‘Oh, it’s a long story.’

            ‘Why? What’s up?’

            ‘It’s Betty again,’ Riana said nearly choking on her tears.

            ‘What’s happened? What did she say?’

            ‘The same thing, over and over like a broken record. Didn’t she already know what I was like when I married Rick? She didn’t raise any objections then,’ Riana said trying to hold back the stinging tears. ‘Suddenly, after all these years, eight years, she feels that she doesn’t like me. She worries that my disability will pass onto little Mat and Josh.’

            ‘What do genes got to do with it?’

            ‘Tell me about it,’ Riana said and continued in the same, shaken tone. ‘Can’t take this crap any more—just can’t. I tried to tell Rick, he thinks I am lying. Rubbish. He thinks she’s perfect. He doesn’t think she’s capable of doing any of this. But she is and she’s doing it.’

            ‘Have you confronted her, before Rick?’

            ‘Yes, but she denies it. That woman is in deep denial, I tell you that.’

            ‘What a shame?’

            ‘She makes it a point to hurt me at every opportunity she gets, especially when Rick is away. She pouts her lips like this,’ Riana mimicked. ‘I don’t like you. I wish I did. But, I don’t, don’t like the way you walk.’

            By now, hot tears rolled down Riana’s cheeks, while her bewildered little boy sat staring.

            ‘None of her business, let’s just order, shall we?’

            ‘Sure.’            

            Rising from her chair, she ordered two short sugarless Macchiato for herself and Riana and a small Tim Tam for the boy.  As they sipped their coffee silently, he suddenly grabbed Raina’s forearm, startling them both a little.

            ‘Mum’s still a mum, no matter what,’ the boy said.

            ‘Of course.’

            Meaka was not sure, how much he really knew.

            ‘Last night Betty tried to hit me,’ Riana said.

            ‘Really? Did you call the police?’

            ‘No.’

            ‘The other day, a guy came up to me asking me out, but I said no, I told him I was married.’

            Riana said unexpectedly taking a sip of Macchiato.

            ‘Do you love Rick?’  

            ‘I think so. But, if I leave him, I am going to go away from here.’

            ‘Where would you go?’

            ‘Dunno, Ireland may be.’

            ‘What would you do for a living?’

            ‘I got money. I got compensation money for my accident. Sometimes, I think Rick married me because of that.’

            ‘How do you know?’

            ‘Cause’ every time we go out for dinner, he asks me to pay for my meal,’ she said somewhat bleakly.

            ‘But, he’s got money. Hasn’t he?’ 

            ‘Yeah, he does. He works. He’s got enough.’ 

            Meaka did not push it. She felt that whatever was going on, Riana did not deserve this kind of absurd abuse. She was fine in every other way. She took good care of her children, cleaned, cooked, and drove them around town. She was a little disoriented at times; fallout from the accident, but it did not affect her daily chores. She led a life as independently as anyone else. Meaka did not understand why people would go out of their way to be so cruel to her.

            The coffee was good. It put them in an optimistic mood. Riana said she needed to get groceries done. She was a bit pressed for time today. That was fine; it was okay for Meaka too. They got up to leave, said goodbye, and promised to meet again next week, same time, same place. The little boy gave Meaka a hug as they went their separate ways. However, she saw how other people looked at Riana as though she had the Covid. Strangely, she also noticed that it did not seem to bother Riana that much. Was it that suffering hardened her somewhat? Or, was it just the magic of the Macchiato, flowing through her veins?

            Meaka stopped at the petrol station and bought some petrol on her way home. She could not get her thoughts away from Riana. Life did not treat her well, at all. She was a victim of circumstance, quite beyond her control. Accident or not, Betty wanted a separation on account of it and that was not fair. It was not her place to ask for one. Besides, she was quite happy to see them married eight years ago. Riana’s words kept resonating in her mind as she finished fuelling up the tank. She went inside the office to pay at the counter and then got back to her car. She drove a little through the suburbs of Sydney. 

            Her car wheels crushed the soft petals of the poinciana, the jacaranda that lay on the way. They were a collaboration of colours, descending softly on the street. She trampled the very things that gave her joy, yet she did it regardless. Still feeling a little heady from the caffeine shot, Meaka sat thinking about what to do next, when her mobile rang. Riana’s number came up on the screen. She grabbed it instantly.

             ‘Hello, Darl. Did you get home safely? Riana asked.

             ‘I’m still driving.’ 

             ‘Oh, I see. Look, very quickly, Are you doing anything tomorrow night?’

            ‘No, not much. Why do you ask?’

            ‘Would you like to have dinner with us?’

            ‘Sure, why not? Is Betty going to be there as well?’

            ‘No,’ Riana replied. ‘She leaves for Melbourne tonight. But, my parents would.’

            ‘Okay, I’ll come.’

            ‘See you tomorrow then.’

            ‘Sure thing.’

            Riana sounded cheerful enough; a bit too cheery, she thought considering her present state of mind. However, Meaka was in good spirits too. She suddenly felt angry with Rick for being so passive and an extortionist.

The next day, Meaka was getting ready for the dinner party. She put her casual jeans on and a white top. Her car was out on the driveway and her handbag was on the sofa, which she picked up with the car keys from the side table. She locked the front door and took her umbrella.

            Children would like mud cake, she thought, spattered with chocolate, not quite mud. On the way, she stopped by a bakery named, Off The Boulevard and picked up a box of mud cake. When she arrived at Riana’s place, it was a little over seven. She turned the red Toyota into the driveway. Rick greeted her with a smile as he came out the open garage door.

            Rick was a tall, thin bloke with curly blonde hair. He combed it backwards today. His forehead looked wider, the cheekbones more prominent, and his sunken cheeks, deeper. Although his pale complexion gave him a sickly look; his friendly demeanour aptly compensated for it. He wore a blue T-Shirt and a pair of khaki shorts.

            ‘Hey, Rick how’s it going?’

            ‘Good.’

            ‘Where’s Riana?’ 

            ‘Upstairs. She won’t be long.’ 

            ‘How’s your day been?’ 

            ‘Not too bad, and yours?’ 

            ‘Pretty good.’ 

            Meaka thought about how little she had actually accomplished through the day.

            Rick sat perched on a bar chair chatting with Meaka at their kitchen counter-top, discussing lawns and landscaping when Riana walked in. She looked at them for less than a second and regarded them with cold disdain, as though she resented Rick seated next to Meaka.

            ‘Hi.’

            ‘Hi, how’re you?’ Meaka asked.

            Her tone matching Riana’s pitch, as she got off the chair and gave her a hug.

            ‘Good.’

            ‘Rick was just telling me about his plans to do a makeover for the garden.’

            ‘Oh yeah, we’ve been thinking about that for a while now. I’ve been asking Rick to get rid of the Bougainvilleas. I don’t like them,’ she said nonchalantly.

            ‘Can you give me a cutting, before you do that? I’d love to have one planted in my backyard.’

            ‘Sure, Rick will do it, when he’s got some time. He knows how to do these things. I do not.’ 

            ‘What’s there to know, darling? All you do is cut an offshoot from the branch?’      

            ‘Yes, since you’re so good at it, shouldn’t you be the one to do it, so Meaka would have a nice piece?’ Riana said.

            ‘Yeah, but we don’t know when I can, Christmas time, maybe—but that’s ages away.’

            Meaka thought this argument might drag on and get out of hand. She changed the subject quickly by asking about her parents, who were supposedly joining them for dinner. And, talk of the devil.

            After the initial round of introductions, Nick and Nelly, Riana’s dad and mum, sat down with everyone else in the living room. They were a good looking couple in their sixties. She was a brunette with short hair and fine features, while Nick was rugged and had black hair. Nelly wore a red floral dress with red matching slippers; he had a casual, white-coloured shirt with a pair of ordinary jeans. Nelly stooped slightly, but she still looked quite graceful.

            Over a drink of Coke, Riana was telling them how they were booked on a flight for the U.S.A, to attend a concert by her favourite band. Meaka, who was not familiar with the band, made no comments. The chatting had been going on for a while when Rick excused himself to go into the kitchen and get dinner underway. Once the table was set, the food was put out. He asked everyone to join him at the table.

            The spread consisted of a pot of roast beef with mixed, boiled vegetables and mashed potatoes. It was a fairly simple dinner cooked in a fairly simple way. They made their way for the kitchen and gathered around the table. They sat down in their chairs, and Rick cheerfully asked his guests to help themselves. Each had a dollop of mashed potato and a slice of meat with thick layer of gravy to moisten it.

            Mat and Josh ate as much as they could and said, ’sorry’ and ‘thank you’ at Riana’s commands throughout dinner. Meaka observed that Riana overdid it at times. But, rules were rules, and it seemed that they had to be strictly observed in this house. To Meaka’s surprise, however, the dramas continued with more revelations into Riana’s character. 

            It did not escape Meaka’s notice the dark scowl on Riana’s face every time Rick spoke to Meaka. Riana’s possessive feelings were too obvious. When Nelly picked up her glass, her slightly deformed wrist was exposed, which Meaka also caught sight of. She said that this was from an accident too, when she had fallen off a motorbike once, in her teens.

            Inevitably, it was Raina’s dad, Nick, who brought up the subject once Rick went upstairs.

            ‘What’s Betty been up to these days? We haven’t seen her in five years, I’d say,’ he commented plainly.

            ‘Not too well, I’m afraid. She left last night,’ and added with a pause. ‘She wants to take Mat and Josh away from me. She thinks she should be the one to raise them because they’re Rick’s.’

            ‘Rubbish! They’re yours too,’ Nelly said in suppressed anger.

            ‘I know. But, she doesn’t see it that way. One day, she said that if I continued to mother them long enough, I would smother them and the children would become disabled like me.’

            Silly as those words might have sounded, Meaka was thankful in a way that the kids had gone to bed. They did not need to hear this. She was frightened that Rick would come back in the room anytime now and all hell might break loose then. However, nobody realised that there was a shadow on the landing of the staircase. Rick came downstairs and the conversation stopped abruptly.

            ‘Dessert anyone?’ asked Rick.

            They all said no, however, they were not too sure how much Rick might have heard. Meaka thought she would take her leave. Politely, she said goodbye and went to her car. Both Riana and Rick saw her out. She said bye to the troubled couple.

            This episode provoked more sadness than anger. She thought of the eternal debate between free will and pre-destination. As we believed, it owed largely to the fact that suffering was but a consequence of action, pre-determined by cosmic rules. Did this not make us mere pawns? Could we somehow prevent things from happening? Did we even have that power?

She was going to have another sleepless night, undoubtedly. But she did not. It even surprised her, however, how well she slept. The phone rang, and a considerable joy came over her, as she heard Rick’s voice on the other end. ‘Meaka?’ Rick said in his placid, smooth voice.

            ‘Yes? Its Rick isn’t it?’ she sounded surprised but cheerful. ‘How’re you?’

            ‘Not too bad,’ he replied evenly.

            ‘What’s up?’ 

            ‘Riana told me to give you a call ASAP,’ he said unflinchingly.

            ‘Why? What’s wrong? Is she all right?’ 

            ‘I hope so.’ Rick said trying to be as calm as possible.

            ‘She’s had a miscarriage this morning.’ 

            ‘What? What do you mean?’ 

            ‘Riana was pregnant. You didn’t know? How come?’ 

            Rick sounded puzzled and thought Meaka was joking.

            ‘That would be the million-dollar question, wouldn’t it?’ Meaka replied feeling a bit let down. ‘How many weeks was she?’

            ‘Six.’

            ‘Well, if Betty had stayed two more days, then she could have helped out,’ Meaka said trying to be level headed. ‘Couldn’t you ask her to come again?’

            ‘I don’t understand. What are you saying?’ Rick said totally taken aback.

            ‘I’m talking about your mum, Betty,’ Meaka said nervously.

            ‘My mum?’

            ‘Yes, your mum! Why? Is there a problem?’ 

            ‘There’s no problem, except that she hasn’t been up here in ages.’ 

            ‘What? What’re you talking about?’

            ‘She’s dying, Meaka, Mum’s dying from breast cancer.’

            Meaka was speechless. The handset nearly fell off. She quickly grabbed a chair and sat down awkwardly.

            ‘Mum didn’t want anyone to know. But, I would have thought that you at least knew.’ 

            ‘No, I didn’t. I’m so sorry,’ Meaka said when she finally found her voice.

            ‘Did you want to leave Mat with me? You’re welcome to do so,’ she offered anyway.

            ‘Could I? That would be fantastic.’ 

            ‘Yes.’

            ‘See you in a while then?’

            ‘See you.’

            Looking at the whitewashed wall ahead, Meaka sat on the chair in a daze, as the drama finally unfolded. In a perfect world, she might have thought of forgiving her, but for now she left it to time to heal it. The loss of trust which was caused by this deception, led to a rift in their relationship. However, what left her really listless, was the very thought of Macchiato, the drink both enjoyed so much. Meaka contemplated its Italian meaning, stained, and marked, as she reflected on the frequent bitter ironies of life.

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ABOUT THE ARTIST

Mehreen Ahmed is a novelist. Her historical fiction novel, The Pacifist published in Canada by Cosmic Teapot was a Drunken Druid Editor’s Choice in 2017. Her collection of short stories, Gatherings published in the UK by Bridge House Publishing, was nominated for James Tait Award, 2020. Her recent novel, Incandescence has been published in the UK by Impspired. She has published with Cambridge University Press, Litro, UK, EllipsisZine, RogueAgent Journal: Sundress Publication and others. Her full bio is available on Amazon and Goodreads.

Image created on Stable Diffusion 2- 1

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