Big Chinese 3

Night. Silence. Darkness. Only in the distance cars’ lights flash time to time.

In fact, Big Chinese is a modest bystreet with several large houses, and the rest - small private houses, buried in greenery of huge gardens.

Shadi also came with us. He is quickly telling  something to you, repeating, "Chike? Chike? "

We are on a quiet street, in a quiet night. Street-lights cast a bluish shine. Our shadows lengthen, then disappear. I keep your warm hand, and something is dying in me. Where are we going? To the unknown. The magic of the evening filled me up to my very bottom. Everything seems unreal and exciting, as if in addition to the known five senses I got something else. Here you stop near the gate of some house. We say goodbye to Shadi.

Very dark. You shake, not letting go, my hand:

- Beware, Fatma, a step is here.

I quietly laugh.

- Are you going to call me now in this way?

- Yes, you are Fatma now, - you answer seriously.

We enter the courtyard. There is much lighter. Light is lit on the porch and in one of the rooms. Over the porch - a living roof of interwoven vines of grapes. You ring the doorbell. The door is opened by the bespectacled man, who had recently been with us in the apartment. We enter inside.

Cool clean floor, readymade homespun mats. Leather sofa. Round table covered by large green pears.

It’s very quiet here, only in the last room TV is speaking.

We go after the man. Here is some girl in a bed. He introduces her: “Ljuda”.

- What's your name? - She asks.

- Fatima, - I pronounce with a smile.

- She is my wife! – You inform proudly.

Her eyes immediately become round and carefully examine me from head to toe.

- Is it true? A wife, really?

- Yes, I am.

She begins to talk enthusiastically about stars, but I barely listen to and only vaguely nod. I feel immensely happy, tired and widly want to sleep.

- Ljuda, I beg your pardon, I just got off the train.

We’re going into the first of three rooms and starting get ready to sleep on a leather sofa.

- Who else lives here?

- Malek, Nazir.

- When will they come?

You shrug and smiling watch as I undress.

- I think they will not come.

You take off your shirt. At this moment I feel how much I've missed you.

- You're not pregnant, it's not true - you are looking at my flat stomach, clearly expecting me to confirm. And I say: - This is true. Absolutely. He's here.