16

My route went in one direction, to Sue’s place. As I came by her tacky wooden house surrounded with an overgrown garden the first thing I heard was a distinctive ruckus coming from the indoors: that was Sue fighting with her old folks.

“Where’s the phone?”

“Sasha! Put on your tights!”

“Where’s the phone?!”

I opened the heavy frontdoor upholstered in filthy oilcloth and instantly smelt the stale air of a poor country house. It smelt like dampness mingled with chimney smoke, dried herbs and dirty old clothes - it was the smell of poverty, so familiar to me. The decor of the house spoke for itself: a pile of cardboard boxes containing all sorts of rubbish, a tattered plastic tablecloth with spilled milk and spat out plum seeds on it, buzzing flies circling over. The picture was completed by an old couch, greasy and lumpy, and a rolled-up on an iron bed dirty old matress with yellowish stains on it.

Sue’s grandad was crouching in front of a small furnace and putting twigs on the fire. Her grandma in a greasy apron was standing at the cooker and making sugary plum jam. Sue herself was running around with a bare butt kicking the rubbish on the floor and nervously eviscerating the cardboard boxes in search of the telephone.

“What’s up? Going to call someone?” I asked her instead of saying hello.

Sue gave no answer. She grabbed my hand instead and pulled me to her “bedroom” - a little corner behind a thin partition. There were two iron beds in there and a big poster with Eminem on the wall. One of the beds was piled up with rubbish; the other was occupied by Sue. I sat down on her unmade, untidy bed and some sharp item immediately poked me in the butt. I ran my hand through the sheets and fished out an aluminum fork with crooked prongs.

“Why do you need a fork in your bed?” said I, “Oh my God, what else is that… peas or something, ew! What a mess your bed is! How can you even sleep like that?!”

“Well, I eat in bed” Sue shrugged her shoulders. Like there was nothing wrong with it.

“I’ve got kicked out of home,” I said with a sigh. “Had a fight with grandmother. Can I stay with you for a while?”

Sue squeezed my hand with a solemn air.

“Oh honey, of course you can! My place is your place, you know.”

“Sasha!” her grandad called out as he stood in the doorway.

She winced with annoyance.

“What is it, old man, you are wanting?”

“Come here for a minute”

“Why can’t we talk where we are?” muttered Sue.

She went outside the partition, though. I got this sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. Is there anything worse than being let know that you are no more than an outsider and there are things definitely not for your ears? However, the “not for my ears” information shared behind the partition was heard pretty clearly.

“Sasha, you have to understand, we cannot let her stay with us. She should make it up with her grandmother…”

I went out and, without saying anything, headed for the front door.

“Wait, I’ll go with you!” Sue grabbed her jacket off the nail.

“Sasha, come back!” her grandma shouted to her.

But Sue just flipped them off and darted outdoors after me.