The man slowly put his hand in his pocket, feeling the flush of shame flood to his face. A regretful smile seemed to be enough of compensation. “Well, yes, of course.” he stammered out. He stared at the ground, watching the doves she had mentioned. It was easier for them. The little bird’s brain was a remedy for all dilemmas. In fact, he didn’t like ‘his pets’ as much as she thought. He just had to take any inconvenience into account whenever he came here. He needed to accept them, despite everything.
“Fix?” he narrowed his eyes. “What do you mean by that?” He was assuming what she referred to. ‘A quick fix’ wouldn’t even be possible with the treatment of the best ointment… it must have been connected to magic or something magical. Arthur had no intention of accepting witchcraft. He considered it to be dangerous and unnecessary. Only reserved for those who are lazy and cannot earn all the luxuries with hard work. Magic was attached with something sinister and unknown. Arthur was disgusted by it. Las Levendas, however, was a city where magical figures lived among ordinary people. Like the pigeons cooing at his feet, Arthur had to accept that. He had no other choice. “Really, you don’t have to.” He shook his head.
The girl gave him a new name - she had decided. How funny. Arthur looked at her as if she was crazy (after all, who names newly-met people?). He was lost for words, and his brain seemed to have stopped working. Although, it might have been caused by an earlier ball accident. He nodded his head understandingly, though he understood little of her explanation. Perhaps it was some new youth trend that was not reserved for the mind of a fifty-year-old man. “I guess I prefer my own name after all.” He started, smiling as nicely as he could. They didn’t know each other well enough to make nicknames. “It’s nice that you think I’m kind. I’m just doing my job. Others would have done the same in my place." He shrugged nonchalantly.
He felt the uncertainty surrounding her - it flowed from her unsteady pupils and closed mouth. Arthur frowned. He would identify if she was lying. The man would also know how to find out what her real name was. He did not rush her. He stood motionless, his eyes fixed on every movement of her face. It took her a long moment to introduce herself, The also surprised him with a friendly smile. She didn’t look away, didn’t shake her nose. She was telling the truth. “Nice to meet you, Anastasia.” He nodded, not smiling back at her. “So, Ana, right? And that’s a short for what? Angelic Ally?” he allowed himself to crack a joke. He rarely did it because he never knew what the best time to kid was. Maybe he had misread the signs and the situation now as well? He adjusted his shirt collar nervously, wondering if, if he hit himself with the ball a second time, would he lose his memory.
Arthur felt in his guts that she couldn’t be trusted. As if a soft whisper was telling him that she wasn’t a saint. Intelligent, pretty… could sweep anyone off their feet. Wrap someone around her finger, just like that. Arthur was sure she had manipulated more than one person. In addition, she was doing better in conversation than the others. This girl could convince a man with fear of heights to parachute. She could tell someone that tiptoeing was now fashionable, and it was illegal to wear your hair in a high bun. Arthur had no such skills. Only when he was interrogating someone, but then he was guided by a specific scenario. Arthur followed predefined structures made by better and wiser intellectuals. Here, he had no way of navigating known trails and well-trodden paths. The man had to create a new map without any guidance or help. It was easier to just shut up… and observe because that was what he was well-trained in.
Anastasia made calm, deliberate movements. Calculated to be as least suspicious as possible. She probably wanted to talk him over and distract him from her non-verbal communication. Arthur knew being close to a policeman could be stressful. Usually, it was the innocent ones who sweat the most and switch from foot to foot while Arthur talked to them. Anastasia, on the other hand, was quite conservative. It only made Arthur even more convinced that she was not so innocent. The girl was far from being an angelic ally. But he noticed the natural comfort in her movements as she stood beside him. As if he gave her a sense of security. Assuming she had something to hide, there were tons of benefits to befriending a cop. Too bad Arthur wasn’t the type to make any relationships.
The mysterious aura around her made Arthur seem strangely drawn towards her. He wanted to know who she really was, what she did. It was natural police curiosity. However, in the case of the red-haired woman, it was difficult to read anything from her movements. While definitely questionable, they gave Arthur no specific information. He listened to her voice soften and fly away with the wind that ruffled the hair of both of them. Her eyes fixed on the indescribable distance, searching for answers in the rustling trees. “You do not have to thank me.” He replied calmly. The criminal in question was not kidnapping in broad daylight. So the girl had nothing to fear. Her sudden wave of grief broke Arthur down. Still, his vigilance remained. “The police do everything to ensure the safety of residents. We will not stop working until the perpetrator is caught." He enlightened her with a pre-learned statement. He touched her shoulder uncertainly, squeezing it in a comforting gesture. “Please do not worry.” Anastasia apologized and thanked him, separating each word with a sharp pause. “You don’t have to be sorry. We are all stressed.” He continued in a voice as if he were reading all this from a piece of paper. “Everyone is afraid of losing a loved one. After all, there is no worse… pain in the world.” Only now did his tone show a hint of personal despair. The man bit his lip. He took a deep breath. “We are on guard.”
The girl turned her head towards the laughing boys. Arthur hoped she wasn’t going to pay attention to them. She watched the kids while Arthur used the time to throw the remaining bread crumbs onto the grass and take his candle. Only now did he notice the anger of his interlocutor, which quickly washed the smile off her face. He did not know how to react, so he stood unsurely and tucked his hand into the pocket of his black jacket.
“F^ck them.” Arthur looked up at her in surprise. The jaw dropped slightly, and the eyebrows rose.
He let out a short chuckle “What?” he smiled at her with genuine relief in his brownish eyes. They have lost their chocolate shine long ago. The woman reached for his hand, and Arthur froze in horror. He couldn’t physically feel her touch, yet his heart paused each time she ran a finger across his metal hand. He didn’t know how to overcome the sudden discomfort that had suddenly invaded his stomach, dislocating all his guts. The girl started talking… and she spoke honestly. She really tried to comfort him, and not for her own satisfaction. Even though Arthur did not expect this from her, he was grateful for it. “I… I thank you.” He quickly took his hand from hers. Despite such an aggressive move, the smile on his face was genuine. His wife used to tell him the same thing. “My wife used to tell me the same thing,” he bit his tongue as his thoughts slipped out from his mouth.
He pressed the candle closer to his chest, sighing heavily. His wife was the only one he could talk to. With her, every topic seemed simple, as if Arthur knew all the turns without looking at the GPS first. He didn’t have to worry about whether what he said was adequate or not. The man didn’t have to rethink his opinion many times before allowing it to be heard by others. He could also talk about her because it was one topic he felt comfortable with. Maybe that was why he accidentally mentioned her? Wanting to get back to that safer place? At the same time, every memory of his wife caused him terrible suffering. Oh, such a paradox.
“Are we going then, or will we be standing here?” one of the little boys said contemptuously to the two.
Arthur closed his eyes and shook his head as if it might help clear the shame he felt right now. “Yes, of course. So, please, lead the way, Anastasia.” He turned towards her slowly, following the girl.
@unsungcheerio ~ Anastasia Tremaine