The proxies

‘Whatever happens, I will always love you😊’ I discover this written in your sloppy scrawl on the back of our treasured photograph that adorns the wall, a feather duster on my right hand. I was doing the day’s dusting chore. As I re-read your message, the wooden hanger slips through my fingers and hits the mosaic tile. I grab hold of the mahogany table by the wall, my hands trembling as a tear escapes from the corner of my eye. I slouch down on the camp chair by the window.

Tick-tock tick-tock the clock ticks away. How far are you?

I try and restore my conscious pronto( I don't want to lose you!) and push the hair out of my eyes—I won’t cry, I have decided. I discard the feather duster on the floor and scurry for my handbag. Opening the chest of drawers by the study simultaneously, I push its contents aside; pulling out anything that looks like the handle of a bag. Halfway through my pushing and grabbing contest I realize my mistake, I am still in your orange room!

Tick -tock tick -tock, I hear the clock ticking.

I skip through the stairs taking two at a time, yearning that time would magically stop. My handbag is discovered by the study, I grab it by the handle and rush. While I wait, impatient for a cab to show up; the women next door throws open her windows, her eyes scrutinizing for a chaos and her long neck aiding her in her business. She finally settles her eyes on me and pries over my appearance, a look of disapproval on her face.

‘What is it Amanda? Should I come down?’ she asks, a fictitious look of worry and devastation etched on her pallid face.

I push the hair out of my eyes, look around and reply back sweetly ‘That’s so kind of you Mrs. Taylor but I will have to rush’.

The refinery siren goes off. It's 3'o clock already!

‘I could help you if you told me about it’ a stern look replaces her worried expression.

 I close my eyes and take in a deep breath willing myself to calm down’ Do not worry I will be fine on my own Mrs. Taylor’.

Luckily enough, I spot a cab and weave my hand frantically. The instant it stops I open the door and hop in.

‘Take me to St. Joseph’s collage by the Eco Park and please move as fast as you can.’ The cab driver nods his head in consent.

‘Sure, ma'am. But the ride will take at least forty minutes.’

I nod back willing myself to accept the truth; I will have to live through this. I will sit through these forty minutes even if it seems like forty lifetimes to me. I take deep breaths again and try to figure out a solution in my head as we move towards the destination.

 My thoughts are muddled up and stagnant. They hang onto you and I cannot help but ask in my head.

Why did you do this? Why did you do this, Azure? Did YOU really do what I am afraid you did? Can YOU really do this? Would YOU really do this?

**

YOU were an April baby. Your dad saw you before me. I was to rest and recover before I could take you in my arms. I recovered fast and the nurse placed a little pink blob in my arms. I cooed and you opened your eyes wide to look at me questioningly. I stared into your sea blue orbs and knew you ought to be named Azure. Azure I cooed and you smiled; a dazzling sunlight smile. You loved to sleep in my arms, so I put my favorite locket in a drawer.

You started to grow and run around the house. You grew up fast, so fast that people looked at you instead of the calendar on their desk to count the years gone by. I looked at you too. I looked at you more often than others did. I reckon that you grew faster than you could stretch a band.

You became a woman at fourteen and cried about it. I consoled you. Your peers gradually joined your rank and you giggled along with them. I watched you contented.

I watched not knowing many things. Perhaps you started to bat your eyelashes at the boys or perhaps you cast your eyes downwards. Perhaps you found yourself a companion or perhaps you had your heart broken. Your seventeenth birthday approached and you dressed yourself up. I worried and gave you grandma dresses instead. You took them and cut them up to your taste. We argued but you were unmoved. Then one evening you went up to your friend to finalize and finish up your project. You were late and I was worried. I called Elsa up. Her mother picked it up instead.

 ‘Hello Mrs Brown can I speak to Azure?’

Mrs Brown startled and flabbergasted replied that you did not go to Elsa that day. I waited for you an eternity. I waited for you in anger, worry and agony, my heart broken over your smooth lies. I waited and waited till the clock stuck nine. You arrived at 9:01 more radiant and happier than ever before. I asked about your whereabouts: You said you were with Elsa. I lashed at you angry and disheartened. I created a barricade between us. You cordoned off your room.

 I watched you still. You made your phone your companion and your right hand; took him wherever you went and never left him alone. I guessed you had a boyfriend whether righteous or wicked, I knew not. I tried to resume our relation and be your friend. I made you dishes and bought you dresses. I tried to be your right hand. You opened up a little and told me about your friends. You told me about the boys in your class but you did not show particular attachment to anyone. You told me about the girls and who were taken. You did not name the pair though. When I asked about your interest you just whispered’ it’s a secret’. This made me uneasy. You showed me the gifts though: Chocolates, roses and a necklace? An antique?

I watched your gifts and panicked. Perhaps your boyfriend was much older than you. I started to inquire. I inquired Elsa and the girls and the watchman by the entrance. Words reached you. This time you lashed at me. I did not lash back. I told you to be safe instead. I wished I was your right hand, I wished I knew about your boyfriend like the phone in your hand.

**

I handle my phone as I think of you and your electronic friend. An idea strikes me. I call up the watchmen. He will watch out for you and Elsa till I get there.

The students file out of your collage. The day is over. I dart towards the entrance and find the watchman standing beside Elsa. You are missing. I inquire Elsa about your whereabouts. She tells me that she thought you went to play balling. I ask her again, urgency in my voice. She swears that she thought you went for balling and that you went there quite often. I ask her how long were you gone and she confesses that you always went balling half an hour before the day ended. She always marked you present instead.

We make haste, Elsa guilt tripped and hunchbacked, I attentive and determined to the head of the collage. I tell him everything and Elsa nods along. He immediately informs force and makes all the formalities. A search group is sent for you. Some officers come to the collage and ask us questions. We answer. I do not remember what they ask or what I tell them.

I wait for news in our empty house. It is not home without you. Your neighbors and friends stand outside scurrying in worry. Your dad sits on the porch head bowed on his palms, perhaps defeated? I do not know how long we wait and pray for the good. Its 1:00 a.m. when my phone finally buzzes. Your phone was destroyed so they couldn't trace you. However you were spotted by a farmer alive and your head will be stitched up in a hospital. I start to cry like a baby.

We reach the hospital. Your dad asks me not to press on you. I do not press on you but instead give you a warm motherly hug and sigh in relief. Your eyes are pleading and moist, asking for an apology. I clutch your hand and squeeze it.

‘It’s not his fault, it's the people who hate him' you whisper to me when your dad sits out, you are somehow convinced again. The man in question was nowhere to be found, neither at the scene nor in the sick bed beside you. I do not try to convince you otherwise. Instead I take my bag by the handle and set out towards our home early in the morning.

Mrs Taylor’s curtains are pulled to the side, her windows wide open and her head sticking out. She looks down from her window and inquires about you.

‘How is Azure, Amanda? Did you find the culprit? Oh my god! You look worn out; I guess she is badly hurt.’

I straighten up my back and hold my handbag tight between my hands’ Everything will be alright’. I tell her decidedly. Then I turn my back on her and jog inside our home purposeful. I walk into your room and fish out the necklace.

He will be found.