Case Of The Missing Bager

CHAPTER 1: HIDDEN BY LIGHTS

    Hanna Singh hates her parents and it seems, to her at least, that they feel the same way: They made her feel worthless; she never seemed to be good enough for them; Hanna thought many times of running away – and then – at the last minute – she kept changing her mind: are they that bad? Yes – but they didn’t use to be…

    It was nine at night when she was finally allowed to rest; she was forced to study_ every waking moment of her life – they knew that it was for her future – but never for a moment did they look back to see the harm it was doing her now.

     At seven in the morning, she was shocked by a thunderous cry. Why she ran out of her house crying this morning, or about her constant beatings hidden by her clothes, I can’t tell you; you have no reason to know and she had no one she could tell…

    She was beautiful – she should have been an image worthy of stars – I wanted her to grow up beautiful inside and out_ but she didn’t – is it too late for me to change things? Never – right?

    Her face, although darkened by the cloudy sky, shone brightly – a face so torn with anger and sadness, it had no choice but to cleanse it with a flood of tears – I knew, there was nothing I wouldn’t give her to make her happy.

    No considerable intelligence is required to realise that she didn’t believe in God – believing that if God were real she wouldn’t be so alone – and that is true; she shouldn’t be: In her world, I am god and believe me – I will make her happy…

    Dreams were sweet beams that truly belonged to her – rays of sun that shone through cracks from the thunderous clouds what were her cruel, grey life and blinded her with colours from the world that she did not want to see: her brutal parents, the racist bullies at school; people she didn’t know how to stand up to and worse she wondered why she should.

    Often at night, into the nothingness she cries silently – believing never to be heard – despising the life and the earth that has held her with such a malicious grip, “God, why’d you not love me, what did I do that was so wrong” – I needed her to be patient – I wanted to make her understand – understand that understanding didn’t mean I could fix everything. I wish I could feel her pain for her but, in my job, that is not something that happens, if you had lived through the times I have, you would clearly see why, why taking what is someone else’s is never right – no matter the reason.

* * *

    Nick Badger and his father [George Badger] were refugees from Poland. They arrived tired from their long trip – they had almost nothing valuable left on them – they stepped in relieved into their new home. The small shop that now belonged to George in was given to them by his brother who had immigrated a few years earlier.

    He [George’s brother] worried when he first arrived, but things went mostly as planned: He first job in England at a decent fast-food restaurant.  I helped him find the strength to stay off alcohol when his goals seemed out of reach and helped him find a place to start his first business – you might be wondering – did I help him? It is like this; I gave him dreams – dreams of all the things that could be his if he followed me and believed in what I could do – but I can’t take all the credit – it took great courage and determination to do what he did.

    One night, after Nick’s mother died, I came to him in a dream and asked him to help them and he was more than willing.

    I sometimes like to think of myself as love – the more I give away the more I seem to have…

    Nick is one of my favourite people. Yet like Hanna, he would not be appreciated by the narrow-minded people of this town, he would soon realise…

   After he arrived, he thought that he should go to the park that he saw as he arrived – he planned to make new friends.

    However, his hopes were misleading – The pure disgust in their voices was sickening – I regretted the day I gave those boys a tongue. They saw only a strange hook-nosed boy that talked funny – they didn’t deserve the eyes I gave them – they didn’t know him - they only saw what they wanted to see – “You’re a weirdo,” they spat; terrible poison lashed out from their fangs and burned into him, “Go back to poo-land”.

   Much like Hanna, he never wanted anyone to know what happened to him. But I could see how much it hurt him. I loved how he never felt angry – not really anyway – not with his dad nor with me – but he was sad.

    Unlike Hanna’s dad, George wanted only to see his son happy – he understood him [Nick] well enough to know when he was upset. On Monday morning, just before school, he selected Nick’s favourite chocolate out of one of the shelves and put alongside his son’s lunch – perhaps, he thought, this would make him feel a least a smidge better.

    Nick turned to say “bye” to his dad as he swung open the door. From behind him, there was a thud against the door which made him jump. He turned to see a dark fallen angel weeping on the floor.

* * *

    Hanna lit up the moment she first met his kind eyes – his lips parted in shock. Self-conscious she turned away – wiping her tears – Nick helped her get up.

    “I am so sorry,” he said still holding her – he didn’t want to let go – Nick stared at her – he felt something in him that he thought he had lost with his mother – Nick felt a desire to cheer her up: he forgot the time, he forgot the day, he forgot where was standing, and who was watching.

    “It’s ok,” she said quietly, “I didn’t look where I was going,” – she was surprised – no one ever apologised to her before.

    “You sure? I’m Nick, by the way, Nick Badger,” he said then smiled at her confused expression – he liked it when she was confused, “I am new”.

    Nick was a very happy person before his mum died –he found his life was very difficult without her – they were very close. When I heard George’s plan to go to come here – I decided gave him a gift – a gift that could make his life better – I gave him the ability to learn anything much faster than almost anybody; learned English in the week just before he arrived.

    At first, I thought that giving powers to good people would make them better but, this isn’t always the case, as I now realise; Hanna’s parents for example – I gave them a strong mind that can’t be changed. It assisted them in the past: when they were threatened continuously to leave when they were denied many good jobs, and even when they had to work day and night to survive. Through all this suffering, their gift saved only the mind while their heart rotted in their chests…

    “I’m Hanna_ your last name’s Badger?” she asked feeling, his hand still holding hers – I heard the thumping of her heart and saw her pupils grow – I make no assumptions…

    “Yeah – I might tell you why on the way, but I can’t be late on the first day,” he answered tearing his hand away from her leaving in the direction of her school [Ink Leash academy] – he felt he had to test if she really did feel the way he did; he walked quickly wanting her to run after him.

    “Can’t be late on any day,” she muttered angrily to herself, she, suddenly remembering Nick, ran after him.

    George Badger watched this – he knew it was no accident – he believed in fate from the day I showed him, Joanna.

    “Wait up,” shouted Hanna, “I go to Ink Leash too”

    “Really – that’s great,” he said cheerfully, “you can be my first friend if you want”

    Hanna’s heart skipped a beat_ as they say. She was happier than she had ever felt before_ and I was glad.

    “Thank you,”

    “For what?”

    “For being my friend,”

    “But I barely even started,” he replied, flattered that she would thank him for such a thing – at these last words Hanna formed a tear different from any she had before…

* * *

    Hanna was unusually quiet on her way to school with her new best friend: she was thinking; she felt funny and warm inside every time they brushed together. Her first gentle smile was growing – she looked at him wondering if he felt the way she did – the feeling that she would do anything for him. She yearned for him to talk again; wanting to hear his voice.

    “Our family name is not actually Badger but we had to change it because it sounded rude or maybe weird in English – you probably don’t want to know,” he said.

    “As they did with Pac man?” she asked pleased – she had never talked to someone who cared what she thought.

    “What did they do with Pac Man?”

    “Pac man was actually called Puck man,”

    “Really? How I never heard that before,”

    “Weird right? Please, tell me what your real name is,”

    Nick hesitated she wasn’t like the others but still, “I will tell you it,” he said, “but you have to promise not to tell anyone else,”

    Hanna thought for a moment then an idea came to her, “I cross my heart and hope to die_ and I want you to know you can trust me – so, if you tell me your secret, I will tell you one of mine,” she promised drawing a cross across her chest.

    “Nacięcie Borsuk,” he whispered into Hanna’s ear – she giggled – Nick smiled, “Your turn,”

    “I wasn’t crying because I was hurt from falling down,” She rolled up her sleeves to show a large tick red bruise slowly turning purple.

    “Jesus,” he said, his face like when he first saw Hanna on the floor, “Who did that to you?”

    “My parents; they didn’t like my homework,”

    “Didn’t you tell anyone?”

    “I told you,” she said shyly – suddenly finding the floor a very interesting thing to look at. Nick burned with anger. More than anything he wanted to hug her and tell her everything would be ok, he looked and saw a lot of eyes – turning at his gaze – judging. Hanna looked around too; she wanted nothing more to tear them [the children’s eyes] out of their sockets – her face a flood of rage – I hope she will get better – I will help her_ ‘if’ she lets me…

    This school is grim and disregarding to those who are ‘different’ – Nick shivered at their cold hate. An epiphany sounded in him – I could see it in his eyes – he saw how truly alone they [he and Hanna] were…

* * *

    Built on the dark vat of tarmac, sinking slowly year by year, was Ink Leash. Its looming walls camouflaged in by the clouds – the windows were black splashes of impressionist artwork and an impression it did make when Nick saw them looking down on him – hung like paintings on the tower above him. Nick wished for an earthquake, a tsunami, a hurricane – he wished them to fall and break on the hard ground beneath his feet.

    “This school is a lie;” Hanna turned to him and explained, “You won’t believe me, but its rating has more stars than the night sky”

    “I am just glad to have what I got,”

    “That’s crap,” she shot back – Nick gave a disapproving look, “Sorry, I am not used to having someone to talk to – it doesn’t really matter what I say to myself”

    “What you say matters to me – don’t forget: it’s kind words that made us friends so no more swearing,”

    “Crap is not a swear,” but eventually she agreed.

    Following Hanna, he memorised the hallways, each one grey and dull as the last – almost all the windows were chained shut and all expect one door barred to them. Asif its sole purpose was to suffer, it opened into the form room screaming – their heads like robot’s and one colourless face sniggered: commenting on the size of Nick’s nose.

    Hanna went to her chair – checking it was clean – it didn’t happen to her often because she was cautious. Nick pulled out his chair – oblivious to customs – he would have sat down too – on to the glue – if Hanna hadn’t stopped him first.

    “Really?” he said to the group of boys from the park, “What did I even do?”

    They made funny faces to each other – pretending that Nick just went crazy. Hanna sighed and wiped the glue off the chair – her napkin was hard from all the times she had done that before. Seeing this, I almost froze their messed-up faces in position, but the moment passed, and they turned away.

* * *

    The first two lessons went quickly for Hanna; not because they were particularly interesting but because she was talking to someone for a change:

    Nick loved his home country and talked a lot about it, but Hanna didn’t feel the same way about hers. Perhaps that place was what caused this sadness, she told him, but as always, he didn’t agree. Hanna thought this was the best part of him: he always thought about things in another way, maybe a better way, to her.

    “Imagine you were suddenly English or even white: would that help?”

    “Are you kidding? Yes, of course, it would,”

    “Would it really? Do you want to be like them?”

    “What? Have friends?”

    “That’s not what I mean,” he explained, “look at how horrible they are to you – to me: if you were like them, we wouldn’t be friends,”

    “You can be like them too,” she suggested.

    “No thanks, if they don’t like me the way I am they don’t deserve to be my friends,” Hanna thought for a while – I believe she was imagining whether this was a way of understanding the world or another way to cope – then she nodded. Realising, possibly, how cowardly a thing it is to change just to be liked.

* * *

    Driven by the chilling late-morning breath, leaves and litter streaked the grey playground. The bell, at its due course, rang signalling an end to the control of teachers: for a short time: at the end of which it would ring again.

    The long-awaited signal was received by a terrific noise – a buzz of chatter and the rushing of children out of their lessons.

    At a recycling bin at one corner of the school where Hanna spent most of their time, she went with Nick. She climbed onto it and sat down, and Nick joined her they talked and made jokes about the bullies. She told him about all the tricks they play on her – he was shocked.

    “What did your parents say they heard about that?”

    “Haven’t you noticed that I don’t have the best relationship with my parents,”

    “And I can see that the teachers didn’t help,”

    “No…”

    “Maybe we could do something; if we worked together, we could end this: we just need an opportunity,”

    And it arrived sooner than they expected.

    “Yoh – big nose is that your girlfriend,” a boy exclaimed maliciously, “Bet you can’t stand her-”

    “Let me tell you what I can’t stand – or understand for that matter,” he interrupted – he had worked on this for the past three seconds and thought it good, “Is how a piece of s*** got so white”

    “What did you say to me,” the boy – rising his fists, “Say that again – I dare you…”

    “What are you going to do?” At that a fist flew into his face – Nick was caught off guard at such a quick reaction: when it contacted his face fell out of balance to the floor. Hanna, on the other hand, faced this as an opportunity as a distraction for the bully and managed landed her fist on the boy’s nose – at this, the bell sounded once more…