The night, filled with angered locals, slowly faded. They returned to their houses. The town hall is closed. The time for talk was over, and so all that remained…...was tomorrow. That tomorrow would start the action.
As the sun rose little by little - slower like usual – light reached the window of the house, touching the wood floor, creeping beyond. It reached the bed, and from the bed it went to the bare skin of the sleeper.
"Mmmhhhh…." he groaned.
Eventually, he was awakened. John slid to the left side of the bed, stood up, and walked to the window in a limping design. Half awake. When he reached the window, all the cells in his body seemed to scream. Wake up! Which he fully did.
He could see clearly. Breathe clearly. And stretch his arms and legs, up and down.
John then turned away from the window and headed to the door. Before he could turn the knob, he remembered what Mother Maris told him after they came back to the house from the town hall. "If you wake up tomorrow, I have left a towel and clothes in the bathroom. Take it and use it."
After John stepped out, closed the door, he walked straight to the bathroom. In the bathroom, there were towels on the side rail. Another thing, too. There were two separate buckets filled with clothes.
'I think the other ones for the girls?' John thought for a second. He grabbed the towel of his use and the bucket that was for him.
The shower turned on. The sound of water droplets sped off the shower, hitting the ceramic floor on which John stood. It could be heard in the background. The hallway, even. The water was cold to the touch. John didn't flinch. He was gasping for air, breathing as if he were in a swimming contest, competing for first place. Every part of his body was a direct hit, and the cold water landed. Neck. Back. Armpits. His privates. And the last of it, his legs, to his foot, to later sink into the drainage pipes, twirling as the sound of water draining repeated.
Twieeeakkk!
Water stopped, and John walked out of the showering area. He grabbed the towel and applied soft pressure on his head, brushing his hair, then to his face with little taps. With one final tap on the face, he pulled down. Towel went to dry his chest, arms, and back. The final drop --- wrapping the towel around his body to hide his bottom.
John happened to see a rectangular mirror beside the shower area. He moved close. He saw himself for the first time in a long while since what had happened in the inner city that inflicted a considerable amount of damage to the physical side, but also the emotional side, which he saw at first-hand, how people crumbled to a pulp. He, too, thought he'd join the group. He saw partial scars on his body. His face – adorned with plenty – had slighter scratches on the left side. His leg. The injured one. Though it slows him down, it heals but takes time. The good side so far is, he is fortunate that he didn't break down. He fought through.
He smiles.
He went back to the bucket and took the clothes that best fit his size. The first top was fine, but it was much smaller. As he moved further down the level, he caught up to the bottom, and the bottom had, for the least, the best-fitting clothes for him. Or so what worked.
When John came out of the bathroom, he wore a loose grey-greenish T-shirt and black trousers. Nothing fancy, just casual home—clothing fashion. He then headed downstairs. Other than the sound of his footsteps tapping on the stairs, he began to hear voices as he descended below. At the end of John's descent, what he saw surprised him, not something horrific, but something other than death and blood he commonly saw.
What he saw was chairs stationed near a neat table! Silverware and plates placed tidily! Food on plates!
Those sitting in the chairs were Tahira, Liney, and Sweetie, enjoying a nice breakfast meal, all the while being served by the very person who welcomed them into her house. Mother Maris. John didn't have the words to speak. He just observed.
That is when Mother Maris glanced over and saw John standing idly on the corner.
"John!" She shouted.
Tahira was babysitting her sisters while eating, but didn't seem to notice John. She was pretty much occupied at the time. Because of her hearing John's name coming from Mother Maris, she responded quickly and turned around to look at John. She also stood straight out of her chair. "John," she murmured.
"Please come, come!" Mother Maris insists that John take a seat at the table. "Take a seat right here."
John was dragged by Mother Maris like a mother to a child. He followed, not wanting to cause a scene, passed Tahira, and sat in the chair.
Tahira sat again, and Mother Maris delivered on John's table side his breakfast. "Please eat," she said and left.
On his plate it was average looking western breakfast you'd ever be served – bacon and eggs, buttered toast, messed potatoes, and a side a glass of orange juice. John was quite surprised by the orange juice. He took a sniff. 'It is orange juice.' He didn't mean it in a bad way. Curious. Just curious.
"Hey John," Tahira spoke over to John.
John tilted his head as a sign of quickening response.
"You should eat. The food is good—"
"Yeah, it's really good!" Liney interrupted with a stuffed mouth.
"Shooossss!" Tahira shoossed Liney for her bad manner.
This and that John smirked. Another smile again.
Liney had her mouth packed. She told her to slow down. Multiple times, while she apologized to Mother Maris. Mother Maris didn't mind it that much. Instead. She felt like a mother again. Tahira would return back to her chair and continue to feed Sweetie, who was in a baby chair waiting for sustenance.
"Here Sweetie, eat up…there, there's a good girl."
Looking at his own plate, he might as well dig in. The first bite, in this very morning, this new day, felt rejuvenating. The sound of banter and laughter. The stillness of the morning. It all remained familiar as if he knew this was just another ordinary day. But it wasn't. He knew that. But for now, for just now, he didn't want it to go away. Let it stay was what he wanted.