Gardens of Bucharest

Chapter IV

Esma leaned on her kitchen counter, waiting for the clock to strike eight. The coffee decanter sat there steaming, holding enough of the caffeinated nectar for both her parents. She didn't know what to do with herself when she had free time; most of her life has been running from one place to another, or enduring sleepless nights under florescent lights.

Magdalena's request piqued her interest however, and her legs itched for contact on the cement sidewalk. The two girls rarely spoke to each other and when they did, it was usually a thinly veiled anxiety question on the latest test. That, and they were going to compete against each other in the upcoming Games, with Magda representing Warsaw. Esma's natural reaction was that the session was organized under suspicious pretenses, but she knew that it was just going to be a friendly spar between two classmates. Magda always had good intentions.

Perhaps it was all well and good that Esma was going. She needed a proper distraction from her humdrum life, and strengthening current relationships was one way to do it.

Upstairs, she heard a door creak open and another one close. Her mother would come down in a couple of minutes, followed by her father. Grunting, Esma peeled herself from the linoleum and poured the coffee into two separate cups. She put in cream and two spoonfuls of sugar for baba, and nothing for anne. She checked her phone for the time, and saw a reminder.

Esma stared at it for a few seconds with unblinking eyes. She closed them, took in a deep breath, and opened them again. She dug her wand out of her bag and with a heavy hand, said "represiune" over the coffee before shoving it back into its compartment. The cups showed no visible signs of change, but that was how it was. The memory spell would last a week before needing another refresher; it was one of the few things that secured her decision to go to university in Bucharest.

She anxiously tapped her fingers on the dinner table, eventually moving on to pacing around the kitchen. Upstairs, she heard her parents waking up and getting ready. Esma opened the refrigerator and brought out a jar of honey and jam, along with circular cuts of simit. She spread the condiments on the bread and made one for herself, and her parents, making some more extras to take along to Parcul Cișmigiu.

"Good morning," Esma said in Turkish to her parents. She put on the brightest smile that she could muster. "Can I go somewhere for a few hours?"

Her father, a man with a bushy moustache, raised an eyebrow. "And where is that?"

"The park. I'll just be there to exercise. I haven't done that in so long, and it's beautiful outside! And don't worry, I will have my cellphone on me at all times."

The father glanced at his wife, who nodded in approval. "Very well then. You may go. Come home soon." He took a long sip from the cup of coffee. "Take care."

Esma smiled, packing the extra sandwiches into her bag. "Thank you."

She rushed out the front door, almost bouncing on her feet. At last, she had some free time, time dedicated to what she wanted to do instead of academic work. In her tiny apartment, the walls closed in on her like fingers around a neck. But outside, Esma felt free. She was free to do whatever she wanted without anyone or anything stopping her. Within fifteen minutes, she arrived at Parcul Cișmigiu, not even breaking a sweat.

Magda stood near the entrance and waved to her. She also wore athletic attire: a white shirt and green shorts. "Esma! I picked a nice, quiet spot for us to practice. Come!" and she sprinted off.

Esma tucked in a stray hair that came out of its bun before joining Magda. She couldn't help but grin at the other girl's enthusiasm for the ensuing, grueling practice. Magda lead her to a green, rectangular field surrounded by trees. The border was composed of little, periwinkle flowers sprinkled with bright pinks and yellows. Esma gracefully jumped over them so as to not ruin their blooming innocence. The girls put their bags outside of the border, established a shared iluzie protectoare, and stood about six meters apart from each other.