Northern Downpour

The Open Gates (V, VI)

V

And then the omnibus had departed. One could not had imagined how one’s situation would be like in the United Kingdom, especially for a teen like Micael. He looked upon the sides of the road, where streetlamps and passers-by were seen. The looks from the pedestrians were stuck unto their omnibuses, of which seemed like an army of ants who gathered food for their colony. They were very carefully aligned, as if confined to just that part of the pavements. Micael incessantly pondered on one’s think-abouts, however good they might had be. “Look at the people, mother. What do you see?” he asked softly.

“I see eyes of freedom and cautious farewell, my dear. What’s the matter?” His mother replied. He quite looked again and showed some unnecessary doubts unto the passers-by, and replied: “Nothing, mother. It just seems like they know who we are or some sort.” His mother never really had the chance to reply as she was busy reading the news’ articles with her dearest monocle that she got from Micael’s grandmother. Micael got a good glimpse of the dingy newspaper and noticed the very date of its.

“Should you read that newspaper, mother, do look at the date,” he said and smirked right after. “I know, dear. It was the news yesterday, and yes, I just want to read the news from last day!” his mother uttered, which felt like she was embarrassed and sarcastic at the very same time. Sooner, Micael felt the quite swift right turn of the omnibus they were occupying, which rendered him curious of what was outside, only to find out that there was none at all, and just a quick turn from their chauffeur.

Upon looking, he noticed something very out of the ordinary. As the street they were currently traversing was just beside the bay, he saw seagulls resting on the side of their omnibuses. As far as Micael would describe them accurately, they were white, some were dingy, the color of their beaks was the truly remarkable one, and the way they communicated upon one another amazed him most, but not his mother. His mother was afraid of birds or anything that flies, which forced her to stop reading and went on to fully close the omnibus windows, at least at her side, and continued reading and though the fright from her face is clearly read by Micael, he continued to be mesmerized by the fact seagulls might not be present on British bays. After a while, the chauffeur shouted:
“Are you guys okay ‘round there?”

“We are more than fine, Mr. Jackson. Just focus on the road or we may not reach our destination, I presume.”
After a quite talk from the chauffeur, the seagulls had departed their omnibus, which gave a very relief to Micael’s mother. Micael followed the flight of the seagulls, wondering where they were going. Micael soon found out that they might be going to their respective routes, as some were traversing the bays south-wise. “You excited?” his mother uttered while he was looking at the seagulls from afar, from which he was seemed so comfortable enough to be dazzled and stunned.

“It is more than just that, mother,” he replied, “but one will not ever forget his very land, I must say.” “Oh, dear. Here,” her mother replied while she was grabbing for the teapot inside the omnibus, and poured some on their respective cups and asked her very son to have quite of a tea party, perhaps.

Micael grabbed the tea being handed to him by his mother, and sipped a little bit, checking if it was too hot to drink, but it turned out to be quite lukewarm as it was heated an hour ago, if one’s math would be correct. “This tea tastes great, mother, but do you mind if I sleep after this cup? I feel like kind of sleepy because of last night,” he said. His mother incessantly agreed upon his dearest request, and went back on reading yesterday’s newspaper, as if some kind of article had really caught her attention. Micael relaxed his body, wanting to be sprawled on the seats, moved the boxes and find himself a very comfortable spot to start on taking a quite nap.