My routine is always the same, that is: wake up early, be the neighbourhood princess, work at the bakery, go back home. I have repeated this routine for several days, weeks, months and somehow years but not today.
"How did you find my house?" I ask Harvey who smiles back holding Toms hand.
"I have my ways", he says still smiling devilishly.
(Two Days Earlier)
"No matter the state of her hair, she still looks damn pretty", Harvey says as he admires the drawing or painting as he calls it, of me. He then looks at his phone which lies vulnerably on the table next to him. He stretches his hand to pick it up but stops. Then, he reaches his hand out again and stops. Once again, he repeats the same pattern, but as hes about to pick up the phone, it vibrates. Since it was unexpected, he gets startled a little before attending to the device.
"An unknown number", he mutters. "Wait a minute, could she be the one?" he asks wondering if I am the caller.
"Oh right! I took her number not the other way round", he says to himself before picking the call.
"Hello!" he greets traditionally.
"Harvey! Son, its been a long time. Just heard that you arrived from France", the caller says. His voice already starts to irritate Harvey. But he listens to him as he continues: "Won you pay your dad a visit? Youve been in Europe for quite a while now."
"I don know which dad you are talking about mister", Harvey says with a mixture of hurt and hatred.
"Are you still holding on to resentment? Harvey, its been twelve years now. Just forget everything son", his dad advises.
"Seeing how you even recall the number of years that has passed clearly shows that it is an unforgettable memory, so stop being a hypocrite by telling me to forget something you even remember", Harvey says and ends the call.
The relationship between Harvey and his family is like that between Earth and Jupiter, though both are planets, they exist independently. As Harvey stands in his room with a different mood thanks to his dads call, his phone vibrates yet again.
He picks it up without checking the caller and angrily says: "What at all do you want from me? I want nothing to do with you, so stop bugging me."
"Do you really mean that?" his mom asks.
"Mom!" he exclaims before saying: "I am so sorry. I thought you were someone else."
"Why, did someone annoy you this evening?" his mom asks.
"Just one of those bug calls. Nothing to worry about. Anyways mom, how are you doing?" he asks.
"Are you now asking me that? Harvey, it hasn been a week since you left me all by myself here in this big city of Marseille, and yet you couldn even call once, not even to tell me that you had arrived safely in Sugartown", his mom complains.
"Sorry mom, I guess trying to settle down over-occupied my mind. Did you visit the doctor as I advised?" he asks trying to change the subject.
"I am fine, its just a cough son. No one dies from that nowadays. I have been taking my medications on time so don worry much about me, just keep in touch all the time", his mom replies.
"Sure mom. I will even report when I poop", Harvey jokingly replies.
"You and your silly jokes", his mom says and afterwards asks: "Harvey, how is your stay at Sugartown going? Have you been able to rediscover your source of inspiration?"
"Don know mom. I have been touring around the city but still found nothing", Harvey replies.
"Son, do you remember what inspired you to start painting?" his mom asks.
"Yeah. How can I forget that? That incident occurred here in Sugartown, it is the main reason I chose to come here: to find my lost inspiration", Harvey replies.
"So has anything inspired you so far?" his mom asks.
"Not yet. I have just made one painting so far", Harvey replies.
"One painting?" his mom asks and cheerfully says: "Thats good news then."
"Mom, come on, you know the amount of paintings I make in a day, not even to speak of a week. How can you congratulate for making one silly painting?" Harvey asks unable to comprehend his moms joy.
"Son, its been six months since you made a painting and finally you have done one. Isn that an indication that you are regaining your inspiration?" she asks.
"Don know", Harvey says without confidence.
"Harvey, maybe you are looking too wide. I am not an artist neither do I know much about the industry of inspirations but I think maybe youve already found the answer. You are just not seeing the bigger picture", his mom says.
"The bigger picture?" Harvey asks thinking deeply about his moms words.
"Yes son. Maybe that one painting is your source of inspiration", his mom says. Harvey remains silent as he stares at the canvas, wondering if I might be his source of inspiration.
In my humble home, I am busily analysing my income. I don want to call it a cubicle despite its size hence lets view it as a humble abode. So, in my little room found in my humble abode, I am seated on the floor with a bowl in front of me. This bowl is not for food, rather its for coins, cents, or pennies as you might call it.
"Even if I was to receive twice my income for two years, I would not be able to pay for the damage", I say in despair and continue asking myself: "Why are the cents more than the dollars? The dollar bills should be more, right?"
Life can be so unfair; as some are thrashing out coins, others are in dire need of them. I pick up the coins one after the other, but as I was dropping them into my purse, one of the coins falls to the ground.
"Where did it go to?" I ask myself as I look around. In the rich mans world, coins are not counted but not in mine. Like a hungry lion in search of prey, I hunt the night for my lost coin. An hour passes, two hours are added, three hours join and an additional two hours add up until finally, I exclaim: "Found it!"
After searching for eight hours without let-up, I find my lost coin. You might call me crazy but this is how my life has been. At the age of twenty-three, an age where most of my colleagues would be attaining their degrees in various courses at prestigious universities, I have a degree in endurance. Never give up, thats my motto, and thats what just caused me to look like a zombie this morning as I yawn and stretch about the compound half-asleep.
"Mia, were you up all night?" Mom asks as I direfully walk into the hall.
"Im okay mom", I reply.
"Mia, you have been working so hard lately and the stress is growing on you. Sorry honey. This is all because I am an incompetent mom", the single-parent of mine says, vilipending herself.
"Mom, come on. You have done your best and are still doing your best to provide for us both. Even if we don have in abundance, we have what we need daily and that is enough. Never belittle yourself for you are a great mom", I try to encourage her with my words, which kind of works as she gives out a satisfying smile shortly afterwards.
Just at that precious moment, my phone begins to ring. "Hello!" I greet the unknown caller.
"Is this Miss Motorcycle?" a mannish voice asks.
"Miss Who?" I ask back as I certainly don know anyone with that name.
"SUV. Remember?" he gives a clue that unlocks the memory I had locked, making my heart skip a beat.
"S.U.V?" I ask back in confirmation. Mom looks at me and I try to pretend that everything is fine by giving her a fake smile. But since I knew where this conversation might lead to, I decided to step out for a moment.
"Thats right, S.U.V. So, when and how would you pay the debt, Miss Motorcycle?" he asks the question impossible to answer. I have no money and cannot break a bank in a day, so how does he expect me to pay the debt?
"How much does it cost?" I ask, praying that he will mention a payable amount.
"Lets see. According to the mechanic, there were internal damages aside the plainly visible external damages. So summing the costs together, umm… that will be twenty thousand dollars", he accounts.
"Twenty-what? Why? Are you repairing a private jet? Hey look here Mister! Do you think that you can easily deceive me?" I angrily attack him.
"I am not…" he tries to defend himself but I do not wait for him to complete his statement before adding: "Look here, I have friends who are mechanics and hence know how much it costs to repair a damaged vehicle."
"I am just telling you what my mechanic said", he explains.
"However, I was not present with your mechanic. Hence I cannot trust your word", I attack once again.
"Then, why don we see the mechanic together?" he asks, trying to convince me.
"Together? Ha, and how would I know that you have not collaborated with his mechanic?" I counter his plan.
"Hey Miss, what do you take me for? A cheap brute who takes advantage of others?" he asks in counterattack.
"I am not judging you. I just want to confirm the truth", I try to lessen the tension arising.
"The truth? Its more like you are framing me as a swindler", he says in attack.
"Framing? And how do I know that you are not one?" I answer by asking a question that definitely calls for war.
"Do you want me to take this to the police station?" he threatens.
"Are you now threatening me? Wow, you are truly unbelievable. Hey, Mr SUV…" I am about to blow up at this point but he interrupts saying: "Mr SUV? Is that the name youve given me to all this while?"
"Weren you also calling me Miss Motorcycle? So whats wrong if I call you Mr SUV? Anyways, what I want to tell you is that, threats do not work on me. If you think by threatening me with the police, I would easily give in to your demand, then forget it", I reply giving him a piece of my mind.
"Fine, so how do you want to confirm the amount you are expected to pay?" he asks after realizing my quick tempered nature.
"Let us meet!" I order, ensuring that I am in control of the steer wheel despite being the one with the debt.
INSIDE STORY
Scene: After Harveys mom calls
Harvey quietly stares at my painting and finally asks himself: "Is she really my source of inspiration?"
He switches his angle and gets an idea. "Right, he will do", he says to himself and goes for his phone. After which he makes a call.
"Counsellor Non Sense, how are you doing? Why I called? Well, thats because somethings bothering me", he says over the phone.
"You know that I have lost my inspiration for a while now but the thing is, someone has made me paint again. So I was wondering, do you think that person is my source of inspiration?" Harvey tells the counsellor.
The counsellor replies by asking: "Were you painting for a while now?"
"No", Harvey replies.
"Has this person made you paint?" the counsellor asks.
"Yes", Harvey replies.
"So why are you asking me a question with an obvious answer", the counsellor says out of frustration.
"Which is?" Harvey asks unable to identify the answer.
"Before I say this, let me ask you. Is this person a female?" the counsellor asks.
"Yes, why?" Harvey replies and asks.
"Oh my. Boy, whoever she is, I pity her", the counsellor replies.
"What? Why?" Harvey asks like an idiot.
"Find out and stop calling me", Counsellor Non Sense says and hangs up.
Novel Bin 