Waiting

“Sorry, never seen them before.” the security guard says.

Another dead end. It’s been weeks since I’ve been in this city and I still haven’t found her. I don’t even know if she’s still alive. I just know I have to keep looking. But that was my last lead. I hate these moments. Partly because I feel stuck but mainly because they give me time to miss Helena. I want to call her, just to hear her voice, but then she’ll be all I think about for the rest of the day.

“I’ll be fine! Alright?” she said as we said our goodbyes before I left home. “It was your dad’s last wish so I know how important this is to you. Besides, I managed by myself just fine before we got married didn’t I?”

That cute smirk of hers is still fresh in my memory. And the taste of her lips as I pulled her in for one last kiss.

It’s funny. I was always skeptical of the Cupid Laws before I met her. There were so many wonderful women, men and others I’ve known that I could imagine myself spending the rest of my life with. That I wished I could have courted. But it is illegal to date. Once you decide to get married, the government takes all your data they’ve collected so far and picks out your spouse. You receive their contact information, get the chance to get to know them for a brief period, and if you are not sure that it will work out you can use your one Refusal that’s allowed under the laws. But after that, you must marry the next person that is chosen for you.

If only there was a way I could give my Refusal to someone who needed a second one. Helena was perfect. Warm, funny, caring, helpful, and yet, proud, independent, and willing to fight for what she believes in.

There’s definitely people who are against the laws though. I’m only the second generation to live under them. Some people like my brother-in-law will sing praises for them. He loves listing statistics that show how sexual violence has gone down, the economy is booming as a result of increased productivity, the decline in single parents, etc.

And then there are others, like my dad who witnessed the laws first being brought in when he was a child. He would talk about increased domestic violence, decline in romance in culture, and how invasive it is that the government has access to everything about you which they justify by saying that it is for the purpose of finding the best partners for everyone. It was only recently that I realised he also had a secret reason for being against the laws.

For now I’m just wandering around the city streets, mulling over what to do next. The top headline on the news channels is your weekly story of some celebrity caught cheating. They never go to jail for it though, because they can just pay the bail no matter what it’s set to. I think about nothing in particular until I come to Sekai Ramen. Mr. Hyogoro dotes on all his regulars. Even though it is completely packed, he pulls out a stool from his kitchen and hands it to me to sit down on. I order my usual Karaage chicken ramen and it is in front of me within minutes. I eat it and the warmth and aroma of the miso soup, the chicken’s crunch, and perfectly cooked noodles drown out not only the noise and bustle of the city, but also the constant stream of thought in my head.

I’m at the window, watching the people outside while I eat. I stop chewing when I see someone who looks exactly like her. I squint to make sure, but she’s hard to see through the crowd and the rain. I’m probably mistaken. But what if it is her? But there’s no way she would look the same. Dad looked very young in his photo too so I assume she was around his age. Unless…

I quickly get up from the stool, almost falling over. Mr. Hyogoro would hate me for leaving his ramen unfinished but if she is who I think she is, then he would love to hear the story. I grab my coat and run out the door, heading in her direction. The crowd is thick now and I have to push and shove people to get through fast enough. I arrive at an intersection. I look around and see a flash of red which could be her handbag but I’m not sure. My gut says to head that way and I do. The crowd eventually thins and I see her as a wave of relief washes over me.

She turns a corner and I follow and then suddenly she’s gone. I walk around a little, trying to figure out where she went when I feel something cold and hard on my back.

“Why are you following me?” she says.

I raise my hands slowly, and turn around, while saying “I’m not going to hurt you, I just wanna talk.”

“Then talk.”

I am facing her and the resemblance is uncanny. Well, except for the purple hair, tattoos and piercings all over her face and body. And she has dad’s eyebrows.

I reach slowly into my pocket and pull out a chain with a heart shaped locket inside. I expect her to be happy to see her half brother, but instead she gets angry. I slowly reach my other hand to open it but she stops me,

“Where did you get that?” she says. Then she starts waving the gun at me. “C’mon keep walking. You’re coming with me.”

We eventually reach her apartment and she pushes me inside. It’s dirty, but the sink is clean. We go to her room, all the while with her gun trained on me. With the other hand she rummages through one of her drawers and pulls out a locket just like mine. She snaps it open and sure enough, a photo of my young dad in one half, and her mother in the other.

“You’re going to tell me everything you know about that man. And then you’re gonna leave and I never want to see you again. Do you understand?”

I’m still not sure what to say to her. I always thought that finding my half sister would be the start of a lifelong relationship but clearly she didn’t see it that way.

“I asked, do you understand!”

“I do. I do. I’ll tell you everything you want to know. Can I sit down first?”

Her expression softens a bit and she nods. I find a chair and slowly sit down, making sure not to make any sudden movements.

“He was like most dads. He loved me, even if he didn’t say it often. He didn’t even say it to mum that often, now that I think about it.”

Her lip twitched at this, although she didn’t say anything.

“He hated the Cupid laws more than anyone you’ll meet.” I say. “He would always cite all these critiques of the policies that were backed up by studies and surveys. I thought the real reason was because he grew up watching romantic movies as a kid. But only recently did I learn it was because he still loved your mother.”

She furrowed her brows at this and I saw her hand grip the gun tighter. Then suddenly she snorts and throws her head back, laughing. She laughs for a while before she stops.

“He loved her?” she says with tears in her eyes, before continuing to laugh.

I sit there fidgeting with my hands, and looking around the room. It is not even decorated properly. There are clothes, makeup, sex toys, and drugs strewn about everywhere. It was obvious that she doesn't spend much time here. Maybe nowhere, for that matter.

“That man was not capable of loving anyone but himself!” she shouts, and the gun is again in my face. “My mother could have done so much better. But no. She loved him. She would always say that it was her biggest regret. That she shouldn’t have used her Refusal. That she could never love anyone else the same way she did that man. Well to hell with him! Why are you here? To apologise on his behalf? To try and console her? Well where the fuck was he when she would drink all day and night, talking about how he’s gonna come back to her after leaving his wife? With you. He was with you and that whore who trapped him with her money and status. He should have refused her and appealed to come back to my mother. We got nothing from him. Even when she told him she was pregnant with me, not a single visit, call, message. And now he sends her son! The audacity! Why didn’t he come himself? That coward.”

“Because he’s gone.”

“What do you mean?”

“He passed away last month.”

She sits down on the bed and puts the gun down on her side.

“What’s your name?” she asks me.

“Paris. Yours?”

“Fen.”

I pull out the locket and open it. Inside is a note that I hand to Fen. I’ve read it dozens of times but she reads it for the first. It says:

Dear Autumn,

I’m sorry I never tried to contact you. Gloria’s family is powerful and clever. They will do everything in their power to make your and Fen’s life hell if they found out, just to maintain their reputation. I have always loved you and our daughter very much. If you are reading this it means I am gone, but my love for you both will endure forever. I am sorry we could not be together again.

Yours,

Govind

Fen’s tears are falling on the note. She gets up and gives me a hug. I get up and hug her again till she stops crying.

“I’m so sorry.” she says.

“It’s alright. You didn’t know.”

“Yeah.”

“Where’s Autumn?”

We drive for hours to a small country town, and arrive at a nursing home where we ask the staff to take us to Autumn. Fen tells me Autumn has been here for a few years now, and doesn’t talk or eat much these days.

We are finally led to a large room full of senior citizens. Some are sleeping, others are walking with the aid of the aged care workers. The staff member leads us to Autumn, who looks like a much older and smaller version of Fen. We crouch next to her and she looks surprised.

“Oh, hello! Do I know you two?” Autumn says.

“Mum, it’s me! Fen, your daughter?” Fen says, her voice choking.

“I’m sorry dear, I don’t know anyone called Fen. But if you would like to call me your mother I’m ok with that.” Autumn says with a smile.

I don’t know what to say to Fen. She opens her mouth to say something more to Autumn, to try and make her remember her own daughter, but she stops herself and sighs, looking down at her feet. She gets up, with tears in her eyes. Or so it seems, since she turns around really quickly and walks out of the room.

I hand her the locket along with the note inside it.

“It’s from Govind.” I say.

She takes the note, gives me a confused look and starts to read it. I watch her as her eyes move slowly over the note, and start to fill up with tears.

“I love you too very much, my son.” she says, and now it’s my turn to cry.

Me and Fen are outside the home now, talking. I told her what happened and she smiled at me, telling me how happy she is that I finally found Autumn and fulfilled dad’s last wish.

“Don’t you ever wish you had met him?” I say.

“I do sometimes, then I remember how mum did her best despite her flaws, and the rest I had to figure out for myself. Eventually I figured out how to forget his existence.”

“That’s fair enough.”

“Are you married?” she asks.

“Yeah actually.”I say, showing a picture of Helen. “You?”

“No. And I probably never will.”