“Adrienne”, I called out to her.
Ayra was standing even further away from me today. She was maybe one kilometer away from where I stood. As usual, the place was dreamlike, a little foggy, actually no, misty with clear images.
“Hello”, she spoke to me.
“Hello”, I greeted her.
“You have a beautiful name”, she told me.
“And you have a beautiful face”, I said.
The words just slipped right out my mouth.
Quickly, I became cognizant. She blushed. This made me feel better. She took my compliment nicely. I found that I could not move from where I stood.
She nodded her head sideways.
“I can’t come into contact with you. I must remain at a distance from men”, she said.
Men, I liked that word. Therefore, it means I’m no longer emasculate.
“Should I return, then?” I asked.
“Can you? How did you get here?How can you see me? I was cursed”, she said
“I have to find you” I realized.
“Yes”, she pronounced.
“Where are you right now? In the real world, I mean”, I asked her.
“I have been comatose for eight years since I was eight. I’m at home, I think”, she said, unsure.
Where’s home? I thought.
“I will try to find you”, I consoled her.
“Get up, you’re going to be late”, my dad shouted.
My bedside alarm was just in time to scatter my brain. It’s exhaustive, these episode of dreams. To everyone else it would seem a fantasy or maybe a
psychological disorder. There was no way to prove what I was seeing. I found her an enigma. Ayra, I mean.
“She’s sixteen”, I mutteredunderneath my breath.
A year younger than me.
“What?” my dad scorned, “Have you been dreaming again?”
I looked at him and immediately lowered my gaze. I don’t know why I was feeling so guilty these days. It’s not like this is a crime. Was I ashamed? Was I queer? Is that it? I don’t think so.
I got dressed sulking all the way. I was physically drained yet again. School was going to be tough. As my dad pulled in the drive, I saw many of my peers in their shiny, flashy, expensive cars. Lamborghini, Ferrari, Ashton Martin, Cadillac, you name it. I was so tired that I did not even have the strength to be jealous. Yes, jealousy needs a certain amount of
vigor. Something that I lacked these days.
“Hey man, why you lookin so down”, Nathan hung his hand over my shoulders, “Stayed up all night, did ya?”
“Yeah”, I said giving up. There really wasn’t much to talk about.
“Why ya lookin so down?” he said again, “Get back on the team in the tryouts”, he ordered, “Enough with your feminine drama”, he said bobbing his head.
“I’m serious”, I stated before he could end.
“Yes, exactly”, he said pointing his right index finger at me. His eyebrows were straight. He lifted his hand from me and hung them over someone
else’s shoulders and left the area.
This is probably an intervention. It’s the closest thing to an intervention that I was going to get. It’s not in my nature to show weaknesses. Because I was out of so many of my extracurricular activities
that an alarm had been raised. I need to lower the alarm, I thought to myself.
The hall was crowded with the football team and the cheerleaders. Everyone was huddling over them because of the big win last night. Not that we ever had a loss in the last five years. The win just strengthened our reign.
“Clear out the hall”, the Principal instructed. Just then, the school bell rang.
English Literature. I never had the taste for it. I don’t know how this subject is mandatory in the school curriculum. I was always bored out of the tacky romances we had in the syllabus.
“Today we will be beginning Sleeping Beauty”, announced Ms. Nguyen.
Weird coincidence? Or was the universe conspiring? They say, that if something is happening to you and that resembles your daily
activities like someone mentioning the name of someone you are thinking of its called Déjà vu.
I immediately thought, “Is she in France?” the answer could be a maybe. I had the uncontrollable urge to run out of the room, get home, pack my bags and leave for France.
“Mr. Knight did you forget to bring your text book yet again?” Ms. Nguyen asked me.
I probably looked irritated.
“I understand that you are not particularly fond of this subject but this is a mandatory course for your studies at this school. Did I make myself clear?” Ms. Nguyen stated.
“Yes”, I answered loud enough for the whole class to hear.
“I think everyone is aware of the gist of the story, given that it is considered a fairytale…” she continued.
I drowsed in the class.
“Can anyone volunteer to tell us the concise version of the story?” Ms. Nguyen asked us.
I raised my hand in the air.
“Yes, Mr. Knight”, she said.
“A princess is cursed with a deep slumber that can only be awakened with a true love’s kiss. Only a knight in shining armor volunteers to enter the
guarded castle to bring the princess out of the curse”, I said.
“Too concise, but okay”, she said, “Let’s turn to chapter one, the beginning”, she began.
I started daydreaming again. I tried really hard to concentrate on Ayra’s physical appearance. Maybe that could lead me to her in real life. She said that she’s in comatose that mean she’s either in a hospital or someone under constant observation.
There was no single server to detect every comatose person in the world. But she could be in France. Déjà vu. It means ‘I’ve seen this before’. Yeah, I
had seen her number of times.
Tring, tring. The school bell rang in my ear. As everyone got up to get out of the class I remained in my seat trying to get hold of the dreams.
“Is everything okay with you?” Ms. Nguyen asked compassionately.
“I guess so”, I answered back. I wondered if she thought if I were acting. Most of my peers always
complained that my face usually looks like I’m acting. This made me very conscious of the way I behaved in front of people.
“Look man, you have got to get your shit together. We barely won last night. By just one point. I don’t have anyone to get my back in the field. I need you back!” Nathan said in what seemed like his last attempt to convince me.
I looked him straight in the eye. “I will try my best to get myself back into shape”, I tried to console him.
“Whatever is going on with you….maybe we can discuss this some time. You’re not on any drugs, are you?” he asked me with frightful eyes.
Politely I declined all of his offers to have chitchat with him. He seemed more relieved to get out of the offer than I did. He’s not a shoulder-to-cry-on type.
My dad was honking his car before I could get to him.
“How was the day?” he asked.
“Miss Nguyen does not really like me very much.
We have started reading Sleeping Beauty” I told. I don’t know why but I felt like bringing up the topic of ‘Sleeping Beauty’ to him. I thought I should at least inform one adult soul. My mom is more on the inquisitive type.
The rest of the ride went by in silence. There wasn’t anything important to discuss upon. When we came up to the curve of the drive way my mom was waiting at the door. She looked scorned.
“You had left your text book at home! Ms. Nguyen had called”, she said.
“You’re spying on me!” I yelled back at her.
“I am only doing what is best for you! Don’t you dare yell at me again young man!” she shouted.
“I haven’t even put the car in the garage and I already hear her screaming”, my dad complained.
“She started it! She was standing at the door waiting to start her bickering!” I argued.
“Enough, everybody go do your chores”, my dad
commanded.
That was that. There was no higher superiority or authority than my dad in our house. This bothered me a little. I wanted to be the face of authority too.
In times like this I remember Ayra.
The first thing I needed to do was look in the birth registry. Look up everyone with the first name Ayra. That’s it! I have to ask her last name. Finding
out her last name is going to be the biggest clue in looking for her. The local National Identity Centre was quite far away from my residence. It was a two hour drive. I decided I didn’t want to delay the procedure further.
“Where do you think you are going young man?” my dad asked angrily.
“I just have some errands to run”, I told him.
That melted his heart. “You’re getting better. I can see it”, he comforted himself. He was drunk. My mother was not in sight. I took the chance and headed for the garage. For now, we managed with the one car. I had crashed mine a few months ago.
I put the car in rear gear. Ready. Set. Go. It took no time for me to reach the National Identity Centre.
The place was swarming with people. After waiting for about an hour I was in queue.
“Yes?” the front desk woman asked.
“I was looking for someone specific”, I informed.
“Name, please”, she said.
“Ayra”, I muttered.
“Last name?” she asked further.
“Just Ayra”, I said.
She looked at me from beneath her lashes. “Are you in something illegal? We don’t just give out identities of people”, she spoke.
“Nothing illegal, she’s in trouble, she just said her name is Ayra”, I told her.
“Well, I am not obliged to give out her details, but there are one thousand Ayras in the world right now”, she said.
“She’s sixteen”, I gave her.
“Five hundred”, she said.
“Okay”, I said and left the counter with the information.
As I was leaving the premises I saw a ‘Help Wanted’ sign outside the building. I took the placard and went back inside.
“Need any help?” I asked at a different booth.
“Yeah, its part time, just a peon job”, the person at the booth said.
When should I start?” I asked.
“Tomorrow”, he said, “And bring your particulars”.
I drove out of the parking lot. There are five hundred Ayras in the world, I thought to myself.
How many are in comatose? She’s definitely registered in a hospital.
Next, I headed for the National HealthCare Centre. I need to look in the directory. There is no way they
are going to give out any information. I had flattered my way at the National Identity Centre.
“I am here to see a comatose patient”, I told the receptionist.
“That’s the 13th floor at the Intensive Care Unit”, she informed me.
I took the elevator to the floor and waited at the waiting area. After about a half hour observation I learned that there was a secret computer in a small utility room where worldwide information can be searched. One of the nurses was critically typing things in the computer in the darkened room. Since the door was opened a little I could see blue light illuminating her face as she typed away. The problem was she was continuously at the computer.
She was away from the computer at maximum of three minutes. That was a short window of time. I took out my smartphone and put it in camera mode. I was going to take a snap of the information on the screen of the computer. Won’t have enough time to
pen these things down. I watched as the nurse ran out of the room as her pager beeped. Someone was
in critical condition.
I slowly walked to the room to avoid suspicion. The computer was turned on. Luck would have it, the directory was front page. She was probably looking at someone. I typed in three words: Ayra, vegetative
state. Only one search result came up.
Name: Ayra Ain Kurdi
Condition: Vegetative state
Birthdate: 13, April, 2000
Address: 34, Canal Street, Daka, France
I took a shot with my phone. What I felt was clarity of the soul. It was like a huge burden had been lifted from my shoulders. I don’t know her enough to
have any strong emotions for her. But I had felt the need to rescue her. She sought help from me. I was going to do that.
Fortunately, no one noticed my suspicious behavior.
Everyone was busy doing their jobs. I took my time and waited until the elevator came to take me downstairs. Even as I left the building I felt I might
get caught. As if someone was going to chase after me. But nothing of the sort happened.
