A Hazel Romance

Friends

The darkening sky reflected Cody's gloom. Again he was being monitored for unending days. Every movement of his arms sent jabs of pain up his wrists. He hated it: the doctors, the pungent smell, the pain. He heard the gentle tappings of rain on surfaces and tried to concentrate on the television programme on politics. Soon he lost interest.

His mother had kept the remote control on the chair she had occupied; she'd been in a hurry to see the attending doctor. Cody sat up, intent on getting it, and was overwhelmed by sudden weakness. Made impotent, he settled back into the pillows, eyes closed. When he opened them, a girl was in his room, a few meters from his bed.

She was petite, dark and had big bright eyes which stared at him curiously from a small face partly hidden by an hijab. Cody attempted sitting up and she ran to stand by the door, her oversized flowery dress billowing as she did. There she watched him. She seemed afraid, so Cody relaxed back. To his surprise, she came forward but kept her distance.

"It's okay," Cody said to soothe her fears. He could see his words had no effect as she continued to stare. "Can you help me with that remote control?" He pointed. " It's on the chair over there."

The girl grabbed it and warily approached him. When the remote exchanged hands, she distanced herself.

"Thank you," he said and changed the channel, stopping at one airing a cartoon of a cat and mouse. She faced the screen, suddenly captivated by the animated movements. " I like this one. No talking. Just sounds. You can tell when they are sad or happy or angry by the faces they make." Uncertain she'd heard him, he said. "You can sit and watch if you want."

She turned to him, eyeing the bed. After a moment, she clambered on, and they watched silently.

Her mother almost never let her watch television, and it was Huma's first time seeing a cartoon. Their expressions amused, the colors captivated, and the way they dashed around with barely visible legs fascinated her, so much she forgot the boy in the room.

"Are you sick too?" Cody asked, dragging her attention to him.

The boy fascinated her more. He had a peculiar complexion, and the most beautiful eyes she'd ever seen. Black, glossy curls fell down his forehead and the sides of his face. To her, he seemed almost unreal. This wasn't her first time of seeing him. His mother, a tall pretty lady, had brought him to the hospital before. He'd been by himself in the waiting area, playing games on a huge phone. Although very sick with malaria then, she remembered watching him for a very long time, thinking about how different and beautiful his features were and wanting to see him again. So when she saw the tall, pretty lady come out of a certain room, she knew she'd find him too.

Huma hoped he'd be friendly, as was glad he hadn't chased her way when she first came in. He'd asked a question: was she sick too? No. Her mother had brought her for a routine check up, but she couldn't tell him.

Cody looked confused. Huma thought he must find her awkward.

"What's your name?" He asked. "Mine is Cody,"

His voice sounded funny. She liked it. He wanted to know her name, but she couldn't tell him. Why couldn't she tell him? Something was wrong with her, and had been ever since she'd been rescued from the bad men who'd taken her. Her mother only told her never to try talking.

"It's okay if you don't want to tell me."

She wanted to.

Cody shifted uncomfortably under her unwavering gaze. He always attracted that sort of attention wherever he went: they'd look at him closely or steal glances. She suddenly crept closer, reaching out to touch his hair then his nose, which she lingered on, and chapped lips.