Grilled Fish

He hated what he had become. He wished he was back where he came from. What am I doing here? He kept on asking himself. How could he have been so naïve? Changing scenes, home and jobs…they did not do anything for him. He was back to square one; rebuilding his life, from scratch.
 
His old life, he wished he was back there; a cocoon of safety and love and happiness. His routine was watching for smiles on their faces, his son and his wife.  He was only three, goddamnit! And his young wife, they had only been together for just five years.  He teared up and went into the lavatory to wash his face.
 
An old homeless wino was washing his face at one of the sink. He looked at him, and smiled pink gums. He almost cringed but turned away instead to look at himself in the cracked grimy mirror.  
He looked awful, three-day stubbles and purple bruises under his eyes. His hair was getting long, and starting to look unkempt.  
 
Working as a janitor did not require him to look like a fop but he looked ridiculous.  Nobody saw him at daylight, as he did his cleaning and repairing at night when the inmates of the sanatorium were asleep and only a few attendants were underfoot.  
 
He was asleep most of the day, and would only stir to get his food late in the afternoon. After that it would be quiet reading until he went to work at 7pm.  
 
He was not always a janitor; in the past he was somebody that had many people working for him. He was a well-known actor with his star shining for him within reach. And that was his downfall.  
 
He was surrounded by incredible beauties almost impossible in their magnificence. They all vied for attention and association with him, for their own struggle to be famous. To him they were all harpies of a kind, not caring if they left others in the ditch as long as they attained their goals.
 
One such starlet was called Aimee, a long legged modelisque figure with the brain of a peahen. She had everything except knowledge in acting. She was a very persistent woman and when she got a bit part with two lines of dialogue in a film starring him, she was so excited that she practically threw herself on his couch.  
 
He began coaching her without realizing that she was getting into him day by day.  During the time of the shooting, she did brilliantly and he was so happy for her that he consummated their celebration on the couch in his trailer.  
 
After the act, he felt so remorseful…his wife and child trusted him so much that they seldom interrupted him in the set although they always travelled with him. They stayed in the hotel or went to the mall to look around. Nobody knew them because they were seldom photographed with him and that’s exactly how he wanted it.  
 
He reasoned with himself that what they did not know won’t hurt them and it was not as if he would ever leave them for Aimee. So he continued his couch venture with Aimee every time he could and the lady seemed to enjoy it tremendously.
 
Did his wife ever suspected? He would never know because she never asked him about it. He once found a folded entertainment magazine with his photo and Aimee splashed on the gossip column under the coffee table, but his wife never asked.  So he presumed that she didn’t know.
 
His cheating came to an abrupt end one evening. He was getting his manhood’s worth of sugar with Aimee on the coffee table in his trailer when the phone rang so incessantly that he grunted away to answer it.
 
He ran all the way to the hospital which was a couple of blocks away.  
 
His wife was pale, but there were no scar on her face. She looked beautiful; angelic, her wavy long hair creating a nimbus around her face.  
 
He was told that she was totally smashed inside due to the impact of the oncoming van that ran the red light. She had been pushing their baby on the stroller, across the road to go to the Fish Grill for dinner.  
 
The baby died on the spot, his tender head broken.
She died later that night, never gaining consciousness.  
 
He was speechless with grief and shame. He was fucking a woman he did not even like while his wife, his love and his baby went out to get dinner from a damn stall.  He had allowed this to happen because he was never home on time for dinner after having found entertainment between Aimee’s thighs.
 
The hotel food must have become dreary to his wife and she went out to a damn grill! And where was he at that moment?  Fucking like a damn hyena!!
 
He wiped his face, as he looked around him. It has been two years, but the ache and remorse were still raw. He walked towards the stalls to buy grilled fish for his dinner. They tasted like communion wafers, an atonement of sorts.
 
 
Ends