... Parked under fascia ...

 we Cuckoos will weave 

.. your words and debris ..

“Tell me about yourself,” I heard my boss’s dulcet British accent wafting between the dividing wall between our offices. “What do you charge and what can I expect for that?”

His office door was wide open and I couldn’t help but hear his words. I had heard him many times planning assignations with various women, some who were prostitutes and others whom he had encountered in his business dealings.

“I can’t wait to see you. Can you get away without your husband suspecting?” he purred. To others, “Will your daughter be sleeping if I come by at 8? Does she sleep soundly?”

“I’m going to be in town tomorrow at your office. Can you slip away?” His smooth, sexy entreaties never ended.

Often his wife would come roaring into the office to see if she could catch him in the act. She’d rush into his office, asking, “Where is she? When will you be home? Why were you late last night?” And on and on!

My sweet talking boss had often propositioned me and I thought he was attractive but tainted. Although I was unhappily married at the time, I never fell for his bait. I knew where he had been and I was not interested.

One day, I got a call at home from his wife, “I need your address to catch up my address book so I can send you a Christmas card.”

I knew she probably planned to come by my house to see if her husband was there with me, so I gave her my address, thinking that she would understand I was innocent. Later, I regretted my decision because I had a very jealous husband but it was too late to backtrack.

One week later, she came crashing through the front door into my office and shouted, “Are you sleeping with my husband?”

"I don't mind

So much that he cheated,"

This discount shopper

Spat into the phone,

"But it was with

HER!"

Now, WHO, (sister, mother, best friend?)

I wondered

Scanning the markdowns

Could possibly

Make the WHAT (cheating)

Take a backseat??!!

They come around at night,

And sit outside my home.

I fear they might be waiting,

For the hours that I'm gone.

Suits and ties and short dark hair,

Both men stand with a piercing glare.

Perhaps they think that I have witnessed,

A private affair that was not my business.

The new moon is always

a source of anxiety for me

for I am tied to her

and to see the heavens 

without her there

is like an empty place

a lover should be

But I heard the stars

this night, this very dark night

of the new moon

for my lover, the moon had her

back to me and the whispering among 

the stars...as if she,

the full moon were whispering to me

for she told the stars 

of a new love

but this love was not me

...not me

I laid my head into my hands and

put my feet into the water

just to feel if she were there

and to somehow squelch the

burning fire of my 

broken heart...

My burning tears drying

into hard crevices on my face

and the soothing coolness of 

the ocean at my feet

gave me some solace...

solace from a conversation 

in the dark

and a secret listener

One bright blue day I'm wasting time when 

I hear a red and alien word:

Atheist

Him 

Son

Trouble

Heaven 

I creep downstairs, Mom's outside

On one of those

Science

Doubt

Religion

Chairs and she's rocking back and forth

Talking to herself or perhaps 

Years

When we 

found out, it

took us a while to

Accept 

She's on the phone. With who? Why?

My brother? Since when?

Since

2006. That's

How long

We've known.

And ten years later, I stood behind that screen door

Hearing those words for the first time,

Wondering why it would be such a crime to 

Tell your daughter that her brother

Is an 

Atheist

"The psychic told my mom I'm going to have a baby," she said.

"You believe in that stuff?" her friend asked.

"I don't know...maybe. It might be what Levi and I need to get our relationship back to where it was when we were newlyweds."

"A kid changes things. It's a commitment, not a quick fix." 

"I know," she pouted.

"I didn't mean to upset you. Besides you don't know anything for sure yet."

"Yeah."

A chair scraped on the tile.

"Maybe next time your mom can ask for lottery numbers or something useful," her friend added a harsh laugh for emphasis.

I watched her friend exit the food court.

I looked over my shoulder and cleared my throat.

"Excuse me Miss, I couldn't help but overhear."

She shrank back in the booth startled and embarrassed.

"I think she was a little hard on you."

"Um, thanks."

"Maybe the psychic was right? Some people have abilities like that. It's not all scams."

"Yeah...the thing is I am pregnant. I knew before my mom even went to the psychic. Heck, I knew before my body did. I just had a feeling. I can't explain it."

She gestured towards the exit.

"That woman that was with me is my best friend so I wanted her to be the first to know," she sighed.

"Oh, well let me be the first to congratulate then."

"Thanks," she said clutching her purse.

"You have options,"I said.

"Not really. I come from a religious family."

"That's not what I mean."

She raised an eyebrow.

"The psychic your mother visited is my sister. I have a watered down version of her abilities. That's what drew me to sit next to you."

She rose.

"You have the ability too. Your baby will too. It's overwhelming. So perhaps you disappear for awhile."

"What?"

"Stay with my sister until you deliver. She'll raise the baby. When you resurface your husband will see how much he's missed you and love you more than ever. Tragedy bonds like nothing else."

"You're suggesting I fake my own kidnapping?"

"It's worked before."

"I don't know," she said.

"It'll save your marriage. My sister already saw it."

Her eyes lit up. She closed her eyes and heaved a sigh that released not only carbon dioxide, but her troubles as well.

My phone rang.

"Good news Sis, I can see you're going to be a mom."

Of all the rotten luck… - says a voice somewhere. The words seem muted somehow like they’re coming from behind a wall.

I told you I would find her. You may think that I fail all the time my friend… – someone else is saying as the darkness surrounds my mind like a veil – but I possess many, many useful talents to talk about…

Is the talent to get yourself into trouble one of them…? – The first voice asks agitated.

Always the pessimist. Did I find her or not? Just like I said… my ways always work.

Until they don’t… is she even alive? – A voice asks somewhere above my head.

I suppose… - I can hear the voice nearing closer as I feel a slight kick in my leg.

Don’t damage her or they will blame us… don’t you think it would be very peculiar if she died on our watch?

She could have died at any time… - the other one is saying while I start to feel fingers on my neck, probably checking for my pulse.

Well of course – the first one says in a mocking tone- …especially after they found you in the doctor’s office snooping around… while the girl had magically disappeared somehow… – the tone manages to get a bit amused – and after finding me a couple of doors behind… casually studying a door frame.

You could have been standing anywhere… it’s a free country after all – the other one doesn’t seem to be bothered. Sounding like he’s been there before – Besides she’s not dead… she’s very much alive and kicking.

Oh? – The first voice asks casually, yet a bit interested.

Very much so… a very strong heartbeat for a… creature like that – I hear a rustling sound as the person gets up from the ground.

Well, that’s… fine -the other voice seems to be thinking something through – However as the circumstances have change and we haven’t got much time before the others find us… the girl should remain being alive.

You’re so boring with all of your strict rules… live a little, wont you? – Now the one standing closer to me sounds agitated – It wasn’t my fault that she decided to escape on her own.

Well… with your specific talents everything is possible.

***

I don't make a habit of eavesdropping but watching the interaction between people can be one of the most informative and entertaining pastimes...

The resturant was relatively quiet and I was enjoying a large cappuccino with cream when an all to familiar sound caught my ear.

"Tik tik tik... tik tik... tik..."

An attractive young gentleman dressed smart casual in blue jeans, white collar shirt with blue blazer and smart black shoes sat opposite an equally beautiful young lady in a loose flowing white dress and white heels.

"Tik tik... tik tik tik... tik..."

I quickly scanned the room. No one was watching me watching them. Taking another sip I returned my attention to the couple.

"Tik tik tik... tik tik..."

The gentleman smiled as he pushed send. Without taking his eyes of the bright screen of his phone he lifted it and turned the glow of his device towards the lady opposite him. She barely flicked her eyes at the screen presented to her unable to remove her own gaze from the conversation she was having with her smart phone.

"Tik tik tik... tik tik... tik..." She replied with a smirk on her face.

The gentleman, seemingly happy with her reaction, pulled the screen back and returned to his own conversation he was having with his phone.

"This younger generation has forgotten how to talk to each other." I laughed as I looked down to answer a WhatsApp message.

"Can you please put your phone down and look at me." My wife said in frustration.

I lifted my screen up so that she could see the message I had just received, "Look at what Peter sent me."

"Honestly!" She grunted.

         From the snippets of conversation I've overheard I can work out the 'what' they have done but I can't work out 'why?'

        So, why are the Chief Bridesmaid and the Best Man from this years Society Wedding hiding out at the end of the day in this little dockside bar? they stick out like a anchovies in a fruit salad. Him in a dove grey morning suit and red braces, her in a nice charcoal coloured backless dress, properly made up, fancy shoes and all.

        The wedding isn't over, I can hear the music drifting across the water from the reception at the upmarket resort on the other side of the bay, and it can't be a case of sudden lust for they have been together for a few years now, I know them by sight, but not well.

       This little bar tucked between car workshops, boat yards and the fishing co-op is not easy to find. It's frequented mainly by locals and a few renegade expats that can't stand the tourists, its not the kind of place people dress up, putting on a clean t-shirt counts as making an effort around here. It doesn't have a lot to offer apart from the fact that it must be about the maximum distance anyone could walk from the resort in those strange contraptions on her feet.

       Mind you the cook is good here,  local fare, but if you want salt-fish bakes you won't find better.

      The barmaid sets a table by the window and they leave the bar and pass by me, I can't help myself.

  "What are you two doing here?"

    "Nouvelle  Cuisine"  he said by way of explanation 

     "we're starving" she added "we've been on the go since breakfast"