Sally

It was the middle of the day, but the place had the deserted feel of a ghost town. There were no street signs. Kieran held my hand and navigated the maze of buildings, mostly constructed from plywood, corrugated metal and sheets of plastic. When we spotted a half-naked kid wandering down the alley, he ran away from us, screaming. Mia said Sarah worked as a waitress in a restaurant. When Kieran and I finally found the place, I realised that ‘restaurant’ was a bit of an overstatement. The hole in the wall had a counter and four tables barely big enough to hold a pizza box. The place was dimly lit. There were no customers in sight. A guy was dozing off behind the counter as flies buzzed around his bald head. Kieran and I stood at the entrance, hesitant to step in. I squeezed his hand. ‘I’m fine.’ He smiled at me. ‘Let’s go inside.’ I pushed aside the thick plastic strips acting as a curtain and entered the establishment. A bell chimed overhead. The guy behind the counter jerked his head up. ‘Welcome!’ He shouted in the direction of the kitchen, ‘Yo, Sally, get your ass out here! We’ve got customers!’ Kieran approached the counter. ‘We are looking for someone.’ The guy’s face fell as he flopped back down into his chair. ‘This is not the police station.’ ‘She works here. Her name’s—’ Kieran turned his head when a woman walked out of the kitchen. She had a slightly chubby figure and moved with a sluggishness that spoke of hours of hard work and fatigue. She wore a tight-fitting t-shirt underneath a red jacket and had an apron tied around her waist. Her eyes, under thick bangs, were tired and surrounded by crow’s feet. Her makeup was getting smudgy from sweat and kitchen grease. But I could tell, from a glance, that she was Sarah. She was supposed to be thirty-three years old this year, but looked at least a decade older. She approached Kieran without looking up and recited mechanically, ‘Welcome. Our specials today are tofu with minced pork and garlic bok choy. May I take your order please?’ She whipped out a pencil and an order pad from the pocket of her apron. Kieran stood stock-still. Sarah, aka Sally, tapped a foot impatiently as she waited to hear the order. ‘Do you need a menu?’ She raised her head as she glanced around the place. ‘There’s probably a copy somewhere—’ Her eyes met Kieran’s. The pencil and order pad dropped to the floor. She looked dazed, like she’d been knocked over the head with a sledgehammer. ‘Hello, Sarah.’ Kieran’s voice was hoarse with emotion. ‘D-Daniel? Daniel Hammond?’ Sarah still had that dream-like expression on her face as she reached out a hand to touch Kieran, as if to make sure this wasn’t an illusion. ‘That was my old name.’ Kieran smiled at her. ‘I’m Kieran Valentine now.’ Sarah blinked. ‘I-I don’t understand.’ ‘Can we talk?’ Kieran gestured to a nearby table. ‘She’s on the clock, buddy,’ the guy behind the counter interjected. ‘She ain’t got time to talk.’ ‘I have a fifteen-minute break!’ Sarah barked at him. She wiped away a drop of tear. ‘We, uh, we can talk. Sit down, please. I’ll, I’ll go get you a cup of coffee.’ She hustled back into the kitchen. The guy behind the counter ran his eyes up and down Kieran. ‘Who are you? Her boyfriend?’ Kieran whipped out his wallet and peeled off two hundred-dollar bills. ‘Go find someplace else to nap.’ The guy muttered something under his breath, but took the money and left. Five minutes later, Sarah came out holding a pot of coffee and two empty cups. She wiped her hands on her apron and sat down opposite Kieran. She looked surprised when she finally registered my presence. ‘Um, I’m sorry, you are…?’ Kieran placed a hand over mine. ‘This is Amiyah, my wife.’ Sarah looked like she’d been struck by a bolt of lightning. ‘Nice to meet you, Sarah.’ I smiled, extending a hand across the table. Sarah looked down at her grease-covered hands, hastily wiped them on her apron again before giving me a one-second handshake. ‘Um, nice to…nice to meet you, too.’ When our hands touched, I had the sensation of holding on to a piece of tree bark. She had a really powerful grip. The air in the room felt stuffy. I rose. ‘I’ll, ah, I’ll let you guys talk.’ Kieran grasped my hand. ‘Stay.’ I looked at him. ‘Stay,’ he repeated. I wanted to tell him that I wasn’t jealous, that I didn’t care about what he and Sarah were going to say to each other, but that would be a lie. So I sat back down but tried to keep myself invisible. Sarah wrung her hands. I sensed her checking me out. ‘Congratulations,’ she said. ‘How long have you guys been married?’ ‘That’s a good question,’ Kieran said jokingly. I smiled. We had been engaged, married and then fake-divorced so many times, it was hard to keep track. ‘We’ve been together for…gosh, close to four years now. Ken, our son, is…’ Kieran turned towards me. ‘A year and nine months old,’ I said. ‘That’s right.’ ‘That’s great,’ Sarah said in a low voice. ‘His name is Ken?’ Kieran nodded. ‘For Kenneth.’ Sarah fell silent. She seemed to run out of things to say. Curling her fingers around the cup of coffee, she stared at the Formica tabletop. ‘You remember me,’ Kieran said after a long while of silence. ‘Of course.’ Sarah forced a smile. ‘We grew up together.’ ‘What I mean is, if you didn’t lose your memory, why didn’t you come back and look for me all these years?’ Sarah opened her mouth, but said nothing in the end. ‘What happened?’ Kieran pressed. Sarah had a faraway look in her eyes. ‘Where should I begin? So many years have passed.’ ‘Start from your “death.” The police told me your body was tossed out into the sea.’