frowned. What would a man named Hassan want from someone like me? I bet that's what she was thinking at the time.
“I… I have a very late message to misses Chow. It's from her late husband, First sergeant Steven Chow” the expressions changed in her face for some reason, she started to cry, she covered her mouth and tried to contain her emotions. She tried to find the words, but I continued, telling her the reason why would I be carrying a letter with Steven's name on it.
“I was visiting my uncle from my mother's side in Iraq, he works at a hospital, and as I was with him he showed me those letters, from ghos…” I swallowed “… from soldiers to their families and friends. And, for some reason, I couldn't help but to think about the letters and about them. So I took it upon myself to deliver these letters... maybe help to give the closure they deserve”
She looked at the crank bag I carried, I realized she was wondering what letters I had in there.
“I wish he was alive” she said. Her tears started to increase, her feelings were becoming overwhelming, too overwhelming actually. Suddenly, for my surprise, she pulled me inside the house. She closed the door and burst into tears. I waited for her to drain all the emotions. I reached for a tissue basket I had spotted and gave it to her to place a dam over her waterfall eyes.
“I'm sorry… this family has been through so much this year, and we don't know what we should do? I feel helpless” Chow and the others read her lips, the spirit of her son in law told me to ask her what had happened this year.
“May I ask what exactly happened ma'am?” I said. She led me to a chair and then she told us something I never thought I'd hear. Chow was struck so hard when he knew what happened to his wife.
Metropolitan Correctional Center; it was a prison in Chicago, holding both female and male inmates. Chow had a grim expression on his face. Thank god the other ghosts were able to convince him to stay with us and not go on his own. We said that we will all go and see her, his widow, it will be better if she read his message first. We will also try to know something else other than what her mother had told us; that she was held for almost a year, for murder.
I sat waiting for her to arrive. There was a guard who was surprised to see me, wondering who that first time visitor was? She didn't have to wonder, the conversation will start soon.
“What's your purpose of visit?” another guard in there asked me, he had tree logs for forearms and a belly of a beast. My mind took its time before it was able to work again; changing the language and the accent did that. I used Scouse, Liverpool's most used accent.
“I have a message, from her husband” I showed it to him. I saw Rod, trying to talk Chow into staying here and to be patient.
“You can place it here and go, I'm pretty sure she can read” the man said, he was looking at me; waiting for a reply, or… maybe he was trying to say something else, maybe he did, between his words.
“I'm sure she can… but I can explain why it took it twenty years to reach her, her husband died in the war and I found letters, for her and others, too… pretty amazing.” I said, hoping this would repel him.
After he glared at me, making my smile fade and my face to turn back forward, he spoke again.
“A war hero, is he? Good thing he's not here now”
Yes… good thing he wasn't here in the flesh, he would have broken his tree log forearm like a twig.
The door opened, a female guard came at first and then… a woman, she walked slowly, she was blond, her head was looking down, but we could still see her face… her face. I thought Chow would materialize the moment he saw her bruised face and her black eye. She looked at me. I thought she would be surprised to see someone like me ask for her. But… she didn't react, she didn't care… she was in despair and without hope anymore. It was a sore sight.
The officer stayed behind, giving us little privacy. She sat, saying nothing. I looked at her, not knowing how to start. And Chow… poor man, he was really struck at the site of his wife, his widow. I looked back at her. Her black eye caught my sight again.
“Ask her what happened?” Chow said.
“May I ask... what happened to you?” I managed to say. She must have noticed me looking at her bruised eye and thought that I meant what made her look like that, and not why she's here in jail.
“I…” her eyes went down, she adjusted herself in her seat, she was nervous.
“I fell” she said… lying to me, not wanting anyone to know that she had been beaten, otherwise she would get herself into more trouble. Chow… if he had vocals, the glass in the room would have shattered, he was soundlessly screaming in rage when he understood her. I could almost hear his muted cry, and I even felt the urge to cry out with him. My head went down, and I placed my hand on my forehead. I started to repeat to myself what reminds me of life, that it will end one day, so we won't need to fear anything, and that we will be judged according to what we do.
“We are GOD'S, and to HIM we'll return… we are GOD'S and to HIM we'll return.”
I looked back at her, she saw my expression, realized my sympathy, something in that made her speak.
“Do I know you?” she asked, I shook my head.
“My name… my name is Hassan… I… I know that you have been in rough times, I hope this would make things easier” I handed the letter to her.
“Steve??” I saw her face change. I remembered one thing in his letter; it was the same in all the letters. They may have been different but they all had the same meaning, to never lose hope and that they've always been loved by them. Her tears run slowly through her cheeks, she appeared like her mother now, a younger version of her. She looked at me, and then… she smiled, it was as if she came back to life again.
“Thank you… Hassan” she said, Chow was standing next to her, he tried to place his hand on her shoulder, but nothing, she couldn't feel his presence. Chow was sad; the face she wore when she came inside was now Chow's. I couldn't stand it; I couldn't bear looking at him like that.
“Tell me… what exactly happened?” I asked.
“I don't think we have time”
“You can discuss it with her lawyer” the tree log forearmed man said.
“My daughter… where is she?” Chow asked.
“I believe Chow had a daughter… your mother told me about her. Do you know where I can find her?” I asked for Chow's behalf.
“She can tell you everything if you want. She works at Glenn's Diner”
“I'll be visiting you later; you just… have faith, ok?”
“So hey… baby doll, you still don't want to hook up?” a man with three others said, I was sitting alone, trying to find the right moment to talk to her. But until then, I would have to wait, and unfortunately, listen to this too.
“You don't know what you are missing” she kept ignoring them, taking away their empty dishes. One of them grabbed her by the wrist; she kept looking at the dish in her hand, avoiding eye contact. Chow looked back at me, wanting me to act.
“So what do you say, Yural? You game?”
“Let go of me, please” she said, in a calm way. She had the same look on her mother the first time I saw her.
“Your mom is all alone there… you don't have to be the same, too” she looked at him; she couldn't do anything about it. Poor girl. Poor Chow.
“Can't you tell she's not interested?” the four men at the table turned towards me. Yural, Chow's daughter freed her hand. All of them got up of the tab
le and came to me. I sat still, standing my ground.
“Is this guy serious?” one said.
“He looks serious… what do you say we kick his ass off?” the other said.
“I’d say that would be a good lesson”
I would have to see if I was really a good psychiatrist. Well…. Here goes. I thought.
“I don't think you want that… I'll pass out; maybe have my ass broken” I winked at the one who held her hand “but either way, I won't die. I'll just get up, bring some cops and you will have your life wasted, I'm pretty sure Yural would be glad to witness for me. So… do you really want to waste your lives for someone like me?” they kept looking at me, time froze for seconds.
“Hey boys, cut that out” an old man said from the other table, he was with two of his friends.
“People are trying to eat here”
The man in front of me looked at me for two more seconds, and then he spoke.
“See you around” I never did.
They left the place and I read their lips as they were outside, they said some pretty things about me. But at least I was able to talk myself out of it. Or was it the old man at the table who prevented it? I thought at the time.
She looked at me and she smiled, her eyes didn't smile with her, she faked it. She was like her mother, almost lifeless.
“Thank you” she said and then she went back to her work. I wasn't sure I should talk to her, but I didn't have a