Chasing Paris

I don't want to think about it. It's a constant source of confusion, pain, and turmoil in my heart. I should have fought harder. I should have succeeded at convincing him of the dangers involved, I should never have given up. 

He had his dreams I understand. He knew the risks. All of them. It wasn't my fault. He was a grown man who knew exactly what he was up against. Why was it killing me so badly even if I knew this? 

"Listen, Gal, when I am in Paris and I am popping, it won't matter how I got there." He said to me. "Imagine me, the Eiffel behind me, cute shorts coz its summer, flowers in all colours, ice cream in hand, sunglasses on my forehead, looking like a million dollars, eish! That's the life! That's the life." He added smiling. "Not this constant suffering… no constant jobs, expectations everywhere, frustrations…"

I frowned and shook my head. 

My dear cousin was obsessed with a European life for himself. He imagined it, he dreamed about it, fantasized about it, hallucinated about it, lived, walked, and breathed it. It intoxicated him and completely wrapped his whole being.  

"You need to be realistic…" I often told him. 

"It's called manifestation." He would shut me. 

I often go to look at the art pieces he left on his bed in the bedroom of the apartment we shared. I usually touch and feel them just to feel him. He gave each piece his all. He wrapped his soul in them. 

I used to watch him paint them. He dreamt of being a successful contemporary artist and he believed that Paris was where he could thrive best. It's where his spirit resided he said. He could feel the winds calling him there. He would feel more alive, more creative, more himself… 

He had tried to get there using the channels available. He had applied to art schools, he had participated in online art programs but had never gotten the chance to visit. He had applied for visas. All were denied. 

Apparently, he didn't have the right credentials, the right reasons to visit, stability back home that would assure the immigration officials that he would want to return, he didn't have enough funds in his bank account that could fund a residence.  

"The system is so classist." He would complain. "I doubt their citizens have to go through such rigorous processes when they visit our countries."

I agreed with him.

"What does money have to do with where I feel my spirit resides?" he would ask more to himself than to me. 

I wanted him to find his path. I helped him find ways that could get him there even if it meant through a longer route or process. 

"They say going to Europe through Germany is much easier. Through the Eastern European countries too. Even Italy or Portugal is a bit lenient for migrants." I'd try to reassure him.

I believe everybody should be given the chance to find themselves and to go wherever they feel could bring out the best version of themselves. I just wanted him to do it safely and through the right channels. 

"If I ever go there, even for a day, 5 minutes or one second, one step in there, and I am not coming back! Never! You will never see my ass back here." He would say making us burst into laughter because of how he expressed it. He truly did feel every dot of his words. 

There is just one thing I didn't want to hear. The sea. 

I couldn't believe that such a brilliant man could be making such dumb utterances. I always tried to talk sense into him. But I always tried not to annoy him too much with my words. 

When people want something so bad and you try to give them another opinion, they feel as though you are being unsupportive and it can create feelings of resentment and can break even the best of relationships. 

I love my cousin Ray. Truly truly love him. He is funny, open-minded, arty, creative, and bubbly. We had climbed trees together as children. We had reared goats and stolen mangoes and avocados from the neighbours. We created wonderful memories together. He was there when I lost my mum. Took me to my first night out and bought me my first drink. 

He took my side when I fell out with my siblings. He supported my decision and helped me when I quit my job and started my business.  

When I was too lazy to clean the house we shared, he would invite his girls over who would do it for him. Well, I am not proud of this, but he happened to date neat freaks who always suggested that he kick me out because I was a lazy mooch. Ray just laughed. That's who he is. 

He had been working hard. He had built a website for his art. He had been receiving good commissions. He painted late into the night. He saved most of what he earned. It would help him build another life in Paris he said. It would get him art supplies and he could create new paintings for sale. 

"I need to get us an apartment where you can come to mooch again." He burst out in laughter as he joked to me. 

I laughed. I never harbored European dreams but I could visit so that I could allow him to gloat and let him prove me wrong. 

"The first painting I will do when I get to Paris is of the Eiffel Tower. And I will dedicate it to you, Gal." He always said whenever I tried to talk him out of using smugglers to get there. 

They were demanding a hefty fee. They would take him across the sea, through at least three countries on road and then finally to Paris. These would take some days depending.

The details were gore. My mind blocked them as soon as I heard them. I didn't want to imagine the bubbly, full of life Ray that I knew in such circumstances. It hurt me to my core. 

I couldn't convince him to abandon his plans. I had resulted to listening. I begged him to use the money he would pay the smugglers to keep building his brand so much so that he could be allowed to travel safely. 

He had lost his patience he said. 

"My spirit is calling Gal. It's now or never. I already spent a decade trying it their way. This time, I'll do it my way." 

He had created a playlist of the song in all its versions. He played it on repeat. Especially the Frank Sinatra version. It pains me every time I hear it. I know the lyrics by heart.

Regrets, I've had a few

But then again too few to mention

I did what I had to do

I saw it through without exemption

I planned each charted course

Each careful step along the byway

And more, much, much more

I did it, I did it my way

He made me promise not to tell anyone. Not even his little sister or his parents. It was killing me. I made him record a video explaining it to them. He accepted because he understood the huge burden he was placing on my shoulders. I would only share it with them with his permission or only if I felt he would never be there to give it to them. 

I watch it every day. At the end of the video, he laughs hysterically and calls me an idiot. He then winks and says " Have faith, my dear Gal."

I took him to the dock that evening. Not because I wanted to, but because I hoped he would change his mind last minute and we would come back home together. 

He had worn a heavy sweater and an even heavier jacket and trousers with many pockets. This would be for food. I had stuffed dates, dry cookies, dry noodles, sugar cubes, chocolates, and sweets in them. I made sure he had easily accessible food. You never know… I also bought him a light hand rechargeable torch. You wound it a few times to power the dynamo. 

"It's only a few hours and then I'll be back on land. You think I am going on a desert safari?" He had joked when he saw the items. 

I was holding his hand when someone came and grabbed him. They hugged and started laughing. He was joking as usual.

"Did you practice your swimming?" He asked this stranger guy.

"All month!" He answered. 

And they burst out laughing. This was a joke to them. It must have been a coping mechanism too. They knew the risks and they needed to be strong. They couldn't cry. So they chose to laugh instead. 

"We shall talk Gal." He said to me. No goodbye, no hugs, no nothing…

And together with the guy, they went in the direction of the not-so-good-looking ship.

I watched them as they boarded. I watched as the anchor was released. I heard the signal as they started. I watched as they sailed away. I hanged around until I could see the ship on the horizon. I stayed until I couldn't see it anymore. 

It's been a few days now. I haven't heard any news. Good or bad. His phone is off. My messages have not yet been delivered. I have been back at the bay a few times and I have seen the ship they boarded. It's already back. It was back the next day. It's made a few more trips. 

I can't ask them anything because they are just a part of the process. They hand their passengers over to another team and the journey continues. They also don't owe me answers. They don't owe me or anyone an explanation even though I feel entitled to it. They are making money from this after all. They must have some humanity in them to give answers that could reassure those that seek them. 

I have been pacing around our apartment since. It doesn't give me the peace it used to. Work isn't giving me enough distraction. Food is tasteless, rhythms are not moving me and jokes aren't funny. 

What to do when you are between a huge rock and the hardest place? 

I know Ray. He must be playing a joke on me. Making me wait. And that bastard will contact me when he is already at the Eiffel just so that the joke will be on me. He likes to win. 

Or did something bad happen? That is a thought I do not want to entertain. I have seen nothing in the news so far. 

"We already died in the Atlantic. Why are you choosing to go die in the Mediterranean?" I asked him once while I watched him paint. 

"Look at these muscles." He joked flexing them "Nobody is dying. I'll swim all the way." he continued and burst out in laughter. 

"Poor Daisy. She will not get to enjoy them anymore." I teased.

"This and this," he said grabbing his arm and groin area " will be enjoyed across the Mediterranean. 

We both burst out laughing. 

I don't want to think about him even if he is all that has been occupying my mind since. All I see when I close my eyes is the ship on the horizon. Because I know for sure he was in it. 

And that's how I want it to remain.