Free Safiah's Smile by Leora Friedman Page A

miracle.
    She glanced at the empty
garden. At one last glimmer of nature. The trees swayed gracefully
in the autumn breeze. But, no. Wait. What was that? She saw a shadow in the
distance. A shape. A shape wearing a hat. A red baseball cap. A red
fiery in the smoky darkness.
    And she ran to it.
     
     
     
    – Chapter 7 –
     
    “Sam?” she shrieked while
sprinting to the foggy shape in the distance. But she knew it
wasn’t him. Sam was an Orioles fan, and Danny was the Red Sox
fan.
    “ It’s me, Malia.” Although
she couldn’t see his face, she knew it was somber. She could hear
it in his voice. His thin, aching voice. “Sorry to disappoint.” His
tone was mocking. No, it was joking. How can he joke at a time like this? she wondered. Did he even
care?
    Of course he did. How could he not?
    “Danny,” she whispered.
    Extending his weary hands
towards the darkness, he enclosed her fingers in his grasp as she
guided him towards the light – towards the lobby of the freshman
dormitory. The beams of electricity blinded her tired pupils as she
squinted at Danny, wondering if his presence was simply a
hallucination. It was all too good to be true. How can this be real? she
wondered.
    His hair appeared greasy and
scruffy, and his face was unshaven. His eyes were not simply red
with pain but bleak with exhaustion. Nonetheless, he gazed at Malia
with undying focus and attention, keenly watching her every move.
Intently catching her every syllable.
    “You look tired,” she laughed,
smiling for several moments before swiping the childlike grin from
face after recalling the events of the day. After recalling her
brother. She looked at his feet. A thick white cast was strapped
tightly around his right leg up to the knee. He limped awkwardly to
the lobby and slumped in a ruby red armchair with a sigh.
    She sunk to the black sofa
opposite him and stared. Simply waiting. So much had changed so
drastically and inevitably in the months since graduation. Do I even know who he is
anymore? She turned her glance towards the
ground, his stare too penetrating and intense to tolerate. It’s almost like I’ve lost someone
who’s sitting right in front of me.
    “Malia, say something,” he
pleaded. “Don’t leave me hanging here.” She looked up. He was
grinning.
    “Danny, how can you laugh at a
time like this?” Her dark waves flowed loosely around her
oval-shaped face. Her olive headband matched the hazy green pigment
of her eyes and her cheeks were rosy – slightly from the blush she
delicately applied hours prior, but largely from fatigue.
    He plainly ignored her question
and continued to stare. She watched him attempt to speak several
times, but he clumsily stumbled on his words and grunted in
frustration.
    “ Danny, why can’t you talk
to me?” she questioned, confusion and worry in her eyes. But mostly
fear. Angst and anxiety at the prospect that things would never be
the same. She desperately needed things to be the same. Then she
remembered Sam. How can things
ever be the same? she thought, tears
prickling her eyes. “It’s just me. Malia.” her voice crackled. “Why
won’t you speak with me? Please, Danny.”
    “Malia,” he saw the pain in her
eyes. She must know, he thought. “This isn’t easy for me.” He
locked his glance on her glossy satin pumps. His right, injured leg
was inelegantly sprawled across the footstool between them.
    “What isn’t easy for you?” she
inquired.
    He looked in her eyes. “To talk
about it. To tell you things... things that you shouldn’t know.”
His hands, which were previously wrapped firmly across the back of
his head, slapped to his lap.
    “Danny, stop trying to protect me.
I’m a big girl now,” she insisted. The beads of her crystal
necklace were irritatingly scratching her neck, so she swiftly
removed the chain and dumped it to the black, feathery carpet with
ease.
    “I can see that,” he smiled. “A
college freshman. I always knew you could do it,