"Why can't I stay, Ganit?"
"Because you have school, and I advise you to finish it out."
"I will... but I won't enjoy it."
Ganit smiled at his daughter, "You never did." He tapped his pipe on the ash tray of the car - causing some ashes to spill out of it. He returned it to his mouth - an island in a sea of white whiskers.
Fatima looked at the old man. When she was little he still looked like this - though he would usually shave off his beard. Her mother always said it made her look like she married her grandfather. Either way , beard or no beard, that's what it looked like. She wondered how old he really was - considering he looked the same in her parents' wedding picture as he did sitting next to her at that very moment. Whenever she did ask him how old he was he always gave her some ridiculous number like 9,000 something or other. She never paid attention to him when he babbled like this. She swore that age was catching up with him and even the memory of his own history was fading. Fatima stirred from her thoughts and turned to her father.
"How much longer to the airport?" Tima mused to Ganit, realizing that once in the US it'd take a few days to not freak out when her mother drove on the right side of the road.
"Hm? Oh, not much longer." he replied- replacing his pipe to his lips. Tima accepted this with a nod.
----------------------------------------------------
" So, what are you going to do once your done dumping me on this tin can?" Fatima asked as they waited for her flight to be announced.
" I am not dumping you. I am sending you back home to your mother and to continue your education as I have already stated."
"And why can I not stay here? Finish school in Britain? " she waved her hands around, not exactly indicating anything.
" Because I cannot give you as much attention as your mother can. You know my schedule."
Fatima let out an aggravated laugh, "What schedule?! You leave always on short notice, sometimes a few days to a couple weeks at a time - do you honestly call that a schedule?!"
"Fatima White," he always used full names when he got irked. Fatima found it entertaining - sort of like those old 50's parents on movies that grew angry at their children for getting a bad grade, or breaking a window. "You know I cannot help it. When someone needs my help I must go to them. Would you like some unresolved issue to go on ,only causing more problems, because you constantly want me here?"
"Yes."
Ganit sighed , really wanting his pipe right now. " You know I would want us to spend more time together but there are things I must do."
"Aren't you old enough to retire yet?" she asked, picking at her nails.
"My work is never done."
"Figured"
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- -------------------------------
"Did I get any mail today, Mom?" Fatima asked as she hurried through the door, tossing her bookbag across the room.
Tima's mother- Eve, knew what mail she was waiting for and she was beginning to think something happened, "No, no mail today." the girl's mother replied, keeping her head buried in a book.
"Okay." she nodded solemnly and retreated to her room.
Eve watched her daughter go into her room before she picked up the phone. After a couple minutes the rings reached her ears and she waited. And waited. And waited. She sighed and returned the reciever to it's spot. Fatima had barely heard from her father once she returned to New York. Now there hadn't a birthday card from him though it was two weeks overdue. She sighed and called the operator to connect her to the police.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- -----
Eve was about to leave for work when the phone rang. She put her purse on the maple kitchen table before picking up the noisy phone.
"Hello?"
"Hello. Is this Ms. Fischer?"
"Yes, I assume your returning my call on my ex-husband."
"Yes, ma'am. We knocked on the door and no one answered. We asked your ex- husband's land lord if he had seen him the past few weeks and he said no, but that that was common with Mr. White. He let us in and nothing seemed out of place. Was he planning a vacation, Ms Fischer?"
"I don' believe so but perhaps he is on one of his business trips. Thank you sir."
"Welcome, miss."
Eve pressed the button on the phone and sat in one of the kitchen chairs as she thought. She looked at the telephone and comtemplated wheter she should do what she was thinking of doing. She gave in to her ponderings. She dialed as quickly as her tiny fingers could - before she could talk herself out of doing this.
Three rings.
"Leave a message."
Beep.
Eve took a deep breath, "For Christ's sake Ganit, why are you doing this? It's not the first time," she paused, "If you want a damn relationship with your daughter then do it! But please, do not lead her on like this. I suggest you call and apologize soon. I will not let her keep getting hurt becuase of you. I won't let her get hurt like you hurt me."
With shaky hands the phone was turned off. She placed it back on the table and looked at it.
'Did I just do that?'
Eve shook her head and went out the door.
"Because you have school, and I advise you to finish it out."
"I will... but I won't enjoy it."
Ganit smiled at his daughter, "You never did." He tapped his pipe on the ash tray of the car - causing some ashes to spill out of it. He returned it to his mouth - an island in a sea of white whiskers.
Fatima looked at the old man. When she was little he still looked like this - though he would usually shave off his beard. Her mother always said it made her look like she married her grandfather. Either way , beard or no beard, that's what it looked like. She wondered how old he really was - considering he looked the same in her parents' wedding picture as he did sitting next to her at that very moment. Whenever she did ask him how old he was he always gave her some ridiculous number like 9,000 something or other. She never paid attention to him when he babbled like this. She swore that age was catching up with him and even the memory of his own history was fading. Fatima stirred from her thoughts and turned to her father.
"How much longer to the airport?" Tima mused to Ganit, realizing that once in the US it'd take a few days to not freak out when her mother drove on the right side of the road.
"Hm? Oh, not much longer." he replied- replacing his pipe to his lips. Tima accepted this with a nod.
----------------------------------------------------
" So, what are you going to do once your done dumping me on this tin can?" Fatima asked as they waited for her flight to be announced.
" I am not dumping you. I am sending you back home to your mother and to continue your education as I have already stated."
"And why can I not stay here? Finish school in Britain? " she waved her hands around, not exactly indicating anything.
" Because I cannot give you as much attention as your mother can. You know my schedule."
Fatima let out an aggravated laugh, "What schedule?! You leave always on short notice, sometimes a few days to a couple weeks at a time - do you honestly call that a schedule?!"
"Fatima White," he always used full names when he got irked. Fatima found it entertaining - sort of like those old 50's parents on movies that grew angry at their children for getting a bad grade, or breaking a window. "You know I cannot help it. When someone needs my help I must go to them. Would you like some unresolved issue to go on ,only causing more problems, because you constantly want me here?"
"Yes."
Ganit sighed , really wanting his pipe right now. " You know I would want us to spend more time together but there are things I must do."
"Aren't you old enough to retire yet?" she asked, picking at her nails.
"My work is never done."
"Figured"
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- -------------------------------
"Did I get any mail today, Mom?" Fatima asked as she hurried through the door, tossing her bookbag across the room.
Tima's mother- Eve, knew what mail she was waiting for and she was beginning to think something happened, "No, no mail today." the girl's mother replied, keeping her head buried in a book.
"Okay." she nodded solemnly and retreated to her room.
Eve watched her daughter go into her room before she picked up the phone. After a couple minutes the rings reached her ears and she waited. And waited. And waited. She sighed and returned the reciever to it's spot. Fatima had barely heard from her father once she returned to New York. Now there hadn't a birthday card from him though it was two weeks overdue. She sighed and called the operator to connect her to the police.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- -----
Eve was about to leave for work when the phone rang. She put her purse on the maple kitchen table before picking up the noisy phone.
"Hello?"
"Hello. Is this Ms. Fischer?"
"Yes, I assume your returning my call on my ex-husband."
"Yes, ma'am. We knocked on the door and no one answered. We asked your ex- husband's land lord if he had seen him the past few weeks and he said no, but that that was common with Mr. White. He let us in and nothing seemed out of place. Was he planning a vacation, Ms Fischer?"
"I don' believe so but perhaps he is on one of his business trips. Thank you sir."
"Welcome, miss."
Eve pressed the button on the phone and sat in one of the kitchen chairs as she thought. She looked at the telephone and comtemplated wheter she should do what she was thinking of doing. She gave in to her ponderings. She dialed as quickly as her tiny fingers could - before she could talk herself out of doing this.
Three rings.
"Leave a message."
Beep.
Eve took a deep breath, "For Christ's sake Ganit, why are you doing this? It's not the first time," she paused, "If you want a damn relationship with your daughter then do it! But please, do not lead her on like this. I suggest you call and apologize soon. I will not let her keep getting hurt becuase of you. I won't let her get hurt like you hurt me."
With shaky hands the phone was turned off. She placed it back on the table and looked at it.
'Did I just do that?'
Eve shook her head and went out the door.
