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Published 29 Aug, 2020 06:55am

Story Time: The blissful reunion

Elbowed and pushed by the huge, packed crowd, Ned, who held my hand securely in his, wove through. I had never seen him so jittery and nervous before.

Usually he is very good at concealing his emotions. Even when I received poor grades this term, I was scared at the prospect of showing him my report. Upon seeing it, he kept his face impassive, but I knew he was dismayed as he hardly talked to me that day. He worked hard day and night, and this was how I let him down (I was flooded with guilt). This time, I was determined to show him good grades, but the problem with me is that I find it really hard to study.

We were at the train station waiting for our train’s arrival. There were people here and there, passengers waiting for their train to arrive, porters helping with the trunks and luggage, customers surrounding the tea and snack stalls and the poor station master scurrying from one place two another with ruffled papers in his hand.

This morning, Ned received some mail. I was burning with curiosity my brother rarely got any mail. As I got up and went to the front door of our apartment, I realised that Ned resembled a statue, holding an envelope and reading a letter. He looked surprised maybe shocked as his gaze was glued to the letter.

“Ned?” I asked.

No response. He didn’t even budge. I went closer. I put my hand on either sides of his broad shoulders and shook him. Then, he seemed to slowly recover as he held a dazzled expression.

“Ned! What’s wrong?”

“Wrong?” he spoke huskily, then cleared his throat, “No Olivia, nothing’s wrong,” he tried to reassure me, unsuccessfully.

When I continued to look worried and perplexed, he looked at me directly in the eyes and gently said, “Olivia, today we are going to meet our mother!”

The words, especially “our mother”, pierced my heart like a freshly sharpened arrow and they echoed in my ears again and again.

Long ago, when I was only five and Ned, 13, we lived alone with our mother after the death of our father. She was a pilot, a really famous one. One day, she went on a flying expedition … and never came back. Since then, Ned had responsibilities of being both mother and father.

I could faintly remember her, her fragrance and her jokes and Ned getting scolded by her while I giggled. A motherly figure that we had lost, but today we could get her back! That’s why we were here, at the railway station.

Suddenly, a train whooshed past us and stopped at a point. Out came the passengers. My heart gave a jolt as I followed Ned’s gaze to find a familiar face; chocolate-brown, warm, twinkling eyes, creamy complexion with rosy cheeks and the most perfect lips. Just like the photo we had. But this was different … it was real. She looked wrinkly and weary, but gave a heavenly smile upon recognising us.

In a dreamy oblivion, I was wrapped in her protective embrace. Later when we were on the couch with Ned right beside us, it was then that Ned and I were told the story of what had happed to our mother.

On her expedition, she was paired up with another man who was supposed to be her partner. At the last minute he didn’t turn up and she decided to fly alone. It turned out that man was jealous of her fame and skills, and he bribed the man at the control tower who was giving her instructions. The traitor purposely led her the wrong way as he was the one who was giving the directions. He ordered her to land at a certain place, perfectly knowing the bad conditions there.

Poor mum, the moment she landed, the engine of her plane expired. And she couldn’t even call anyone for help due to lack of signals. The land was breathtaking with lush vegetation, yet she didn’t see a single man (though she saw many animals). It was almost as if the land was preserved for someone or maybe it was undiscovered.

For two years, she had roamed the forests and lived on wild berries, nuts and fruits. She even taught herself to make fire and to roast food and there were lakes of fresh, clear water. Finally, she met a tribe of village people who talked in a foreign language.

Instead of being good news, this was another catastrophe as the people thought her to be a spy of their enemy. And so, she was a prisoner for another two years. Gradually, the villagers realised their mistake and found out who she was. Even though it took her a year to return to us, she had gotten that traitor arrested.

Hugging my mum and Ned, I felt like all the jigsaw puzzles of my life finally fitted perfectly and I was happier than ever.

Published in Dawn, Young World, August 29th, 2020

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