First Cycle - Spring

by Sarah Kassem

  “No. Hedera Helix is not in Antarctica,” Cristobal said.

  Viktor didn’t understand it.

  “Why am I here?” He asked.

  “Didn’t I tell you already? You are hiding here.”

  “Why?”

  “If anything bad happens then you have to come here, to hide.”

  “But what happened?”

  “Nothing yet. We’re just here to make sure you know where to go and how to get here.”

  “How do I get home?”

  “The same way you got here.”

  “Can we go back then?”

  “Of course we can, but we’ll have to come back again.”

  “Why?”

  “You have to bring some emergency stuff here: Warm things to wear and something to eat which is not perishable. Normally the League would make sure that there are things for you here, but for now it’s not a bad idea for us to bring a few things here, just in case.”

  “Will I have to come here often?”

  “If you’re lucky, you’ll never have to come. But we still have to prepare in case you do. We have to bring a few things here and then practice coming and leaving. Hopefully after that you’ll never have to come back again.”

  “Ok,” Viktor said.

  Cristobal once more showed him how to find the small, ugly dark spot.

  Viktor closed his eyes.

  There was a sudden flash in his brain and when he opened his eyes he was back in his room.

  Endosperm

  Immanuel Abies parked his car outside the studio.

  Normally he would kiss Viktor and say goodbye, but this time he turned off the engine, pulled out the key and took off his seatbelt.

  Viktor sat in the passenger seat and looked at his father, confused. “What’s happening?” he asked.

  “What do you mean?” asked his father as he turned the steering wheel until a small ‘click’ sounded.

  Viktor looked at his father as he opened the glove compartment and took out a small folder. “What are you doing?” He asked.

  “I need this folder, so I’m taking it out.”

  “Why?”

  “I’m coming in with you.”

  “Why?”

  “I’ve got your mother’s tax return.”

  Viktor didn’t like the sound of that.

  His father had been driving him home since he could remember and it had always been the same routine: from the company home, a goodbye and a kiss, wait until Viktor went into the house, and then drive away. Viktor would then always wait at the small window in the front door and watch as his father reversed, drove back a bit and turned around onto Aquifolium Street. At this point his father would wave again and Viktor would wave back through the little window before turning off the lights in the stairwell and going upstairs. This was a well-rehearsed ritual, one which Viktor had done so many times it was ingrained in his very being.

  “Come on Viktor, get out,” said Immanuel Abies as he pressed the button to unlock Viktor’s seatbelt.

  Viktor got out reluctantly and waited on the sidewalk while his father took a briefcase from the back seat and closed the car.

  His father took him by the hand and they walked up the small footpath to the front door.

  “I have my keys in my backpack.” He took his backpack off, set it down and pulled out a long ribbon that was attached to the inside of the backpack.

  “That’s my key,” he said. “I’ll open the door then we can wipe our feet and go inside.”

  His father laughed and said, “Very good.”

  They walked the three steps up to the front door.

  “Here’s the light.” Viktor pressed a switch on the wall. A light came on inside the small porch. “You can turn the light on from outside and from inside. So we can turn it on out here and then we can turn it off when we get inside.”

  “Impressive!” His father said. “But don’t forget I’ve lived here as well.”

  Viktor pointed to a couple of flower pots that were in the porch.

  “Mom planted those.”

  “Really? Are they flowers?” asked his father.

  Viktor shrugged.

  “We will have to wait and see what grows there then shall we.”

  Viktor nodded.

  At that moment they heard a small meow and a bright figure came out of the bushes.

  “This is Kennedy,” Viktor said.

  “Well well, so Kennedy is still around. Good old girl,” his father said. He crouched down, stretched out his hand and Kennedy came running and purred as he stroked her head.

  “Kennedy lives here,” Viktor said. “In the backyard.”

  “Yes. I know Kennedy, Viktor.”

  “But she hasn’t lived here forever. She used to live with Rocco but he kicked her and so she left.”

  “Is that true?”

  “Yes.”

  “Hmmm. Well, we won’t do that, will we?” he said to the cat. “Come on Viktor, it’s cold out here. Let’s get inside.”

  Viktor sighed, then turned to the door and opened it.

  “These are the stairs. You have to go up them then you reach the apartments. If you go through this door then you’ll be in the tailor shop.”

  Immanuel Abies laughed loudly and uproariously, then said, “All right. Thanks for the tour. I’ve been here many times before, you know.”

  “I know. But you don’t live here, so you don’t know what everything is. This is the light. Look.” Viktor pressed the light switch and the light over the front door went out. The staircase was now dimly lit by the little light which reached them from the streetlights outside.

  “These are my sneakers. I went running yesterday but mom said I have to leave them on the stairs and can’t take them into the apartment because they were wet and covered with leaves,” Viktor said as they passed a pair of dirty sneakers on their way up.

  “Where did you go running?” Asked his father.

  “Outside,” Viktor said.

  “That’s nice.” His father went passed him up the stairs and arrived at Helena’s front door.

  “Wait,” cried Viktor.

  His father paused. “What?”

  “Wait.” Viktor ran passed him, opened the front door and went in first.

  “Mom,” he shouted and ran into the living room.

  His mother was sitting at the big table with various papers and folders spread out in front of her. She took her reading glasses off and said, “Hi Viktor.”

  “I brought Dad!” Viktor announced.

  His mother laughed, stood up, ruffled her son’s hair and went out into the hallway to where his father was hanging his jacket on the coat rack.

  “I’m glad you’re here,” she said before she hugged him.

  Viktor stood in the living room doorway and watched them suspiciously. His father was just as tall as Helena, but that was where the similarities between them ended. While Helena was broad and muscular, Immanuel Abies was very thin. Long and thin, like a withered branch. Helena however was like a tree trunk. His mother’s hair was long and red while Immanuel Abies had short, dark brown hair. Viktor had inherited this color from his father. Everyone always told him that he looked exactly like his father and he too thought the same. He’d asked his mother once why he looked so much like his father, and she had told him that dark genes were more powerful than red ones. He’d hadn’t quite understood what she meant and she’d seen the confusion in his features and explained that he should try mixing dark brown and red together in art class at school and see what happened. He’d done exactly that and straight away seen what his mother had been trying to explain as the colour came out a dark brown.

  “You want something to eat?” His mother asked his father.

  Before his father could answer, Viktor called out: “We have peanut butter!”

  Helena laughed. “Viktor discovered peanut butter yesterday.”

  “Really?” His father said. “And it’s tasty?”

  Viktor nodded.


  “I’d like to try some of that,” said his father.

  Viktor nodded again. “Shall I make you a sandwich?” He asked.

  His father came to him and hugged him. “Yes, that would make me very, very happy!”

  Viktor ran into the kitchen, climbed on a chair and took a bag of bread from the bread box, then moved the chair to the cupboard, climbed onto the counter and took down the peanut butter and a jar of raspberry jam. He then went to the table, put everything down, ran to the drawer and pulled out his knife. He was not allowed to use a normal knife, so instead he had his own special one. It looked like a knife, but the edges were much rounder and not as sharp. He pulled the chair back to the closet, took down a plate, ran back to the table and put two slices of bread on it.

  On one side he smeared a thick layer of peanut butter and on the other a thick layer of raspberry jam. He then put the peanut butter spread slice onto the jam one. He’d found out that morning that if he did it the other way around, and therefore put the jam covered slice on the peanut butter one first, then you have jam pouring down the sides and making it very sticky. But if you do it the other way round, the peanut butter makes sure the jam doesn’t drip as it’s thicker.

  He pressed the slices of bread together, then carefully cut it into four triangles, put a fork on the plate and ran back into the living room.

  His parents were sitting at the table. Viktor stood irresolute next to them and waited until his mother made room for him. Then he put the plate down and shouted “Wait!” before he ran back into the kitchen. He took a glass from the cupboard with his chair, filled it with milk and then took it carefully back into the living room where he set it down next to the sandwich.

  His father laughed and took Viktor in his arms. He pressed him so hard that Viktor thought his skeleton would implode.

  Then his father ate and talked with his mother about boring stuff and Viktor stopped listening as the speech was not about himself. He rested his head on his father’s chest and after a while fell asleep.

  The next morning his mother woke him up and he followed his normal routine. He brushed his teeth, got dressed, and was about to go into the kitchen when he almost had a heart attack upon seeing his father coming out of his mother’s bedroom, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

  Viktor stood petrified in the hallway, staring at his father.

  “Good morning, Viktor,” Immanuel Abies said, walking past him and ruffling his hair before he went into the bathroom.

  Viktor remained open mouthed in the hallway, staring at the closed bathroom door until it opened again and his father came out.

  “Are you ready for school yet?” his father asked him as he went into the kitchen.

  His mother came out of the bedroom, putting her hair up as she did so.

  “What’s Dad doing here?” Viktor whispered angrily.

  “Papa slept here last night,” his mother said.

  “Why?”

  “We ended up working until very late last night.”

  “But why didn’t he drive home after?”

  “It was getting late. And it was very dark. It’s not good to be outside when it’s dark. You know that.”

  Viktor thought about it and had to admit that it all sounded quite understandable.

  Helena went to the kitchen and Viktor followed her. His father was standing in front of the fridge and looking inside.

  “Are you looking for the coffee?” his mother asked before she opened another cupboard and gave him the tin of coffee.

  “Wonderful,” said his father. He spooned some coffee into the coffee machine.

  “I’ll have a coffee as well,” announced Viktor.

  Helena rolled her eyes and said, “You certainly will not.” She left them to return to the bedroom.

  Viktor sat down at the table and watched as his father poured water into the coffee machine and then pressed the red button to turn it on. A few minutes later the coffee began to bubble through the filter.

  “Mama always puts the water in and then the coffee,” Viktor said.

  His father was leaning on the counter as he asked, “Really?”

  Viktor nodded.

  “So, did I do it wrong?”

  “Yes,” Viktor said.

  “Do you think it’ll still taste good anyway?”

  Viktor thought about it and shrugged.

  He looked at his father’s feet with their long toes and tufts of hair. “Mama says you can’t walk on the tiles barefoot!”

  “She’s right,” his father said. “You can’t walk on the tiles barefoot. I’ll catch a cold if I’m not careful.” He went into the hall and looked in the shoe cupboard and took a pair of Helena’s flip-flops out and slipped them on.

  Viktor found it confusing that his father was wearing his mother’s shoes. “Those are Mama’s shoes,” he said.

  “It’s ok. I’m only borrowing them. Before I go I’ll put them back in the cupboard, okay?”

  His father turned to the coffee machine, took two cups from the cupboard, poured coffee into them before placing them on the table and asking: “What do you have for breakfast, Viktor?”

  “Froot Loops or jam toast.”

  “And what will you have today?”

  Viktor thought, and then said: “Froot Loops.”

  His father went to the counter and took out the box of Froot Loops. He then went to the refrigerator and took out the milk and put it in front of Viktor before finally he went to the cupboard and took out a bowl and a spoon.

  “No,” Viktor said. “Not that one.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Not that bowl.”

  “Which one?”

  Viktor pointed to the closet and said, “The Red one with Spiderman on it.”

  His father took out the Spiderman bowl, put it in front of Viktor and put the other one back into the cupboard.

  He then sat down at the table and watched as Viktor ate his Froot Loops. His mother came back into the kitchen, sat down and held her cup of coffee in her hands.

  A silence fell over them all which was strangely uncomfortable for Viktor. He felt like he was being watched and chewed carefully as a result. Each crunch of Froot Loops between his teeth sounded like a crash and so he tried to eat them as softly as possible.

  His parents began to talk about something and Viktor bent his head over his cereal, and peered over the edge of his bowl to watch them.

  He found it all very strange.

  His mother sat there with an ambitiously loose hairstyle and her coffee cup between both hands. She was smiling brightly. His father had only a T-shirt and boxer shorts on rather than the suit he normally always wore. He too was smiling brightly. They were talking about something terribly boring but both looked as if they were having the time of their lives. Viktor couldn’t remember if the three of them had ever had breakfast together before. He knew that his father had lived with them for a while, and so he suspected that they must have had breakfast together a few times. But the fact that he couldn’t remember made him grow confused.

  As far as his memory stretched back there had only ever been himself and his mother at breakfast. There were exceptions of course, like when he had had breakfast with Maricel or Oded in their small apartments. But the fact that there was someone else sitting there with him and his mother in his mother’s kitchen at breakfast was very strange, and as such Viktor did not know quite what to make of it.

  “I’ll go get myself ready, then I’ll take you to school, okay?” His father said before he got up and walked out of the kitchen.

  Viktor stared aghast at the retreating figure.

  “Dad’s going to take me to school?” Viktor whispered in horror to his mother.

  “Yes,” she said.

  “Why?”

  “He has to go to work now anyway, so he’ll just drop you off on the way.”

  “What about Oded?”

  “What about Oded?”

  “He always drives me to scho
ol!”

  “Yes. But today your dad will take you.”

  “Why?” Viktor whispered, horrified.

  “Don’t you want him to take you?” Asked his mother.

  Viktor thought about it and said, “No, I want him to.”

  “Good. Well, go and get your school stuff.”

  Viktor sighed, put his spoon down and stood up.

  “Viktor,” his mother said as he walked past her. She grabbed his arm. “What’s going on? Is everything all right?”

  “Yes,” he whispered.

  “No it isn’t. What is it?”

  “Nothing,” he whispered angrily.

  “What is it Viktor?” Asked his mother.

  “Nothing,” Viktor repeated irritably. He tried to shake his arm free. “It’s just that everything’s different now. That’s all!”

  His mother laughed. “Nothing’s different and nothing will be. Now, go and get your things or else you’ll be late.”

  Viktor rolled his eyes and went to get his backpack.

  Once they were in the car and on their way, Viktor realized that he had forgotten his lunch.

  “Never mind,” his father said. “I’ll buy you something on the way.”

  “But Andala always makes my lunch,” Viktor said.

  “Well, we can’t go back now so I’ll buy you something. It’s no problem.”

  “We can go back! You just have to turn the car around!”

  “You’ll be late for school and I’ll be late for work if I do that.”

  “But my lunch is back there!”

  His father looked down at him with a confused expression before he looked back at the road and drove on.

  “My food is always in the kitchen. Not in the kitchen with Mama, but downstairs in the tailor shop kitchen. There’s always a meal for me, one for Gem and one for Hala. You were supposed to go down there and get it for me. That’s what Oded does. He does that every day and I never forget my lunch.”

  “Ok, I’ll remember. But look, tomorrow you can have Andala’s food. But we’ve already gone too far now, we can’t go back or you’ll be late for school.”

  “But I can’t eat it tomorrow! It’ll be no good then!” Viktor said with irritation and he couldn’t understand why his father didn’t know such a thing.