Green Fields

Where did the last year go? He remembered he just needed something different. He found something new, somewhere different, somewhere else that wasn’t the same. It’s hot now, unbearably hot. But he could bear it, because he’d found her. He was convinced of it. He’d found her continents away from where he’d started, sitting alone at a bar. Many plans had been made, carefully. He didn’t regret it, despite the heat; the oppressing, unrelenting heat. Life back in… seemed unthinkable. It all made sense; night after night of the same, endless monotony. It was all a concatenation he resolved. He’d been craving something visceral, gut-wrenching. He had outgrown his previous existence. He’d found something real to embrace, fully. He thought about how the one-night stands, by the next day, were just silent echoes, inevitably sending him further down into his disillusionment.  He’d started to drink heavily, to make it more fun, he told himself. He got bored with women quickly, and he told them so. But now he’d found someone real, and he’d moved continents to be with her, to show his commitment to their relationship. She was intense, intellectual, dark and beautiful. She had guts; not like the rest.

He didn’t have a care in the world. He flopped his head back and closed his eyes. It was so goddam hot.  ‘Keiiiit’! Keiiit’, you fuck! Have you been drinking, again? You drink too much, it’s disgusting! You should watch your behaviour and be considerate, or it’s finished!’ Keith looked at his watch. He suddenly felt anxious. His heart was beating in his stomach. He wiped the fresh sweat from his forehead and looked at his watch. He was sure it was still early. Had she been drinking already? ‘It’s just hot.’

‘Hot? Keep talking. Don’t give me any of your excuses, I know you can talk!’ Keith felt himself get goosebumps. ‘Lying about, drinking, it’s not respectful, you should have more dignity!’ Keith reached for his tobacco. ‘Roll for me first, be kind; don’t just think of yourself, like you always do!’

‘I was going to roll you one.’

‘I depend on you, I love you, my Keit’, my love.’ He passed her the cigarette, then rolled himself one. ‘Get me a beer, please?’

‘You don’t have to, just because I am.’

 ‘No, really, I want one, can you get me one, please?’

‘Ok, my love.’ They sat together, in the sun, opposite one another and they drank. Keith felt good. They had guts, and they discussed philosophy, psychology and the future. She would cut her hair and dye it red when she was pregnant. He would become a doctor, or maybe even a professor. They would be happy, and not be like everyone back in... Keith thought to himself, he had enough love for both of them. It was tragic; she had to hurt him because she was hurting, but she didn’t know it. All that sadness was projected on him, so he would take it, for her, for both of them. She was just intelligent and tortured, he thought, they would be happy. Maybe he drank too much, maybe he didn’t. She said he did, so he would agree and be sorry for it. But he knew it was her own denial, of her own problem. It was a regular habit. She said so, once. The next day, she denied it. He could handle it, he thought.

The waiter pushed a bowl of olives across the counter with the two bottles of the local cheap brand. He waited expectantly until Keith gave him a ten for the tip. He waited for the change that didn’t come. ‘You need to get used to the life, my friend.’ Erdal lit a cigarette and blew a big plume of smoke up into the still, humid air. ‘If you don’t get tough, you will be eaten alive.’

‘Thanks for the advice. I didn’t have any change.’

‘Everyone has to have change, my friend!’  Erdal rolled back on his stool laughing deeply. ‘So how is life here, Keit’?’

‘Oh I like it, Erdal. I like it, except for the flies.’

‘You can get used to the flies, don’t worry, my friend. You can get used to anything, if you want.’

‘And how’s Zahara?’

‘She is crazy, but I love her.’ They laughed together knowingly and toasted with their bottles. ‘And how’s your beautiful woman, Keit’? You’ve found a good one, no? Very fiery, very beautiful! You’re a lucky man.’

‘Oh she’s fine, thanks. It’s good she’s friends with Zahara or we’d never have met. You’ve been very hospitable since I arrived.’

Say nothing Keit’! If it is pleasing you, my friend…’ They toasted again with their beers. ‘But I have to tell you something that makes me sad. You know I am not married with Zahara?’

‘Yes.’

‘Well she had to have an abortion. This is very bad. It would ruin her if her family knew this. Now things are not so good. Life is difficult, she is angry with me.’

‘That’s terrible, Erdal, what will you do?’

‘I do not know. I cannot speak with her, we are beyond words.’

‘Do you think you will you work it out?’

‘It is not like before, when we first met. We had plans to return here, to marry, to start a family.’

‘I know, we had a lot of good times last year, the four of us.’ A band that had been playing now stopped. A man was going from table to table with a wooden tip box. Keith spat an olive stone onto the side plate provided for the stones. The barman appeared out of the shadows, ‘Another beer, my friend?’

‘Yeah, why not? Two more, please.’ The barman waited for his tip and Keith gave him another ten. He lit another cigarette, cursing the barman under his breath. He toasted with Erdal; to the future and women. They drank and sat in silence. The man with the box had made his way around the tables and now stood by Keith, his wooden box outstretched. ‘I’m sorry, I only have a fifty.’ The man rattled his box, smiling impatiently. ‘Erdal, have you got change?’

‘I’m sorry, my friend, I don’t have enough to eat!’ Keith turned to the bar but there was no one to be seen. The men in the band moved toward the door, blocking the exit. Keith threw the fifty in the box. The band started up again. It was so goddam hot.

As Keith walked home, he knew he was nearly drunk, but that was alright. He was on his way home to her. It was only ten minutes away and he’d be home soon. He just had to remember the way. All the alleys looked the same and on each corner there was a man trying to sell him something, ‘Excuse me! Min fadlak! Perdoni! Izvinite! Entschuldigung!’ He ignored every gesture to enter this or that shop. It was relentless. He walked with purpose, briskly, stopping for nothing. He walked like this for thirty minutes until he was drenched in sweat and could taste the dust in his parched mouth. When he reached the door to the house he felt relieved but, admittedly, quite irritable. He wished he’d learned more of the language before flying out here. It would get better, he thought.

He stepped inside out of the sun and immediately felt a cold shiver. The shade inside was both welcoming and harsh after the outside. The striped canopies and awnings had mainly kept the sun off but the heat penetrated everywhere, except the house. The solid stone kept it cool inside and little light found its way to the interior. He went directly to the fridge and pulled out the glass bottle of lemon water. He breathed a sigh of relief. ‘Is that you, Keiiit’! You said you would be home hours ago!’

‘I’m sorry, I…’

‘Don’t talk to me, it’s finished!’ Keith heard an empty can being slammed down hard on a table. He still felt a little drunk. The irritation returned like a bee sting. ‘What’s wrong, baby? I was just with Erdal. I told you we were meeting. He swept aside the bead curtain and stepped into the room. It was thick with smoke, dark, and there were at least four empty cans on the coffee table. She was at the computer, concentrating intensely on the screen. ‘What you doing, baby?’

‘Don’t pretend to be considerate now, I know where you were! Why weren’t you at home, with me? I thought an Englishman’s home was his castle? I’m the last defender of this analogous castle, ha!’

‘What? I told you before I left, I was going to meet Erdal.’

‘Ha! Erdal, your friend. You know he tried to fuck me last summer?!’

‘When we weren’t together?’

‘Yes!’ Keith turned and slapped aside the beads, heading to the fridge. He returned with a beer and lit a cigarette. ‘Why are you telling me this now?!’

‘You think he’s your friend, ha! Yes, drink! You’re so unthoughtful.’ He took a long and deep swig from the can. ‘I think it’s finished, Ahmed agreed.’

‘What? He used to beat you up!’

‘Don’t talk about Ahmed. You’re disrespectful. You should care more about me.’

‘Just kill me now,’ muttered Keith.

‘What? Oh poor Keith, another girl leaving him, just like the rest, ha!’

‘Why do you have to hurt me? I haven’t done anything. What’s the matter, baby?’

‘It’s finished! I know you can talk. Don’t tell me nothing. You can talk good.’ Keith tried to calm himself. He knew why she was being this way. It wasn’t her fault, he thought. He knew that.

‘What are you doing, baby?’

‘…speaking with people, don’t interrupt me. At least they have some respect.’

‘People you don’t know on the internet? Really?’

‘It’s finished, go back to that girl that left you. Didn’t she say she didn’t want to know you?’

‘Actually, she said she wanted to pretend we didn’t know each other.’

‘Ha! I knew it!’ Keith slammed his cigarette into the ashtray and launched his can across the room. He suddenly felt a deja vu. The can hit the wall inches above her head. ‘Don’t hit me!’ Keith slumped down onto the sofa, his head in his hands. ‘I’m not going to be treated like this anymore… I’m not going to be treated like this anymore.’

She woke the next morning and swung open the fridge and grabbed a bottle. She closed the door gently and opened the beer. Lifting it to her mouth, she saw the note on the fridge.