THE BOY WITH THE RED HAIR

The boy himself was a specimen to be ogled at, black studs, long wavy red hair, partly hidden under a black beanie and slightly tanned skin. His face; probably the reason why I wasn’t the only one staring, he looked like he could have been a movie star or a celebrity singer with those hazel eyes of his.
Marco William scoffed before looking down at his paper. The boy started coming three weeks ago. Marco at some point spaced out because he hadn’t noticed anyone sat down in front of him till a thin hand waved in front of his face. Looking up slightly, he saw the boy with the red hair.
“You’re alright?” The boy asked in a hushed tone, an attempt not to break the awkward silence that came with a library.
“Fine,” Marco said.
He gave a brisk nod and started to get up, then stopped and sat back down like he had forgotten something.
“Your name,” he said.
“What?”
“What’s your name?”
“Oh, Marc, Marco William,” Marco replied.
“I’m Clarence,” he said before getting up, grabbing his books off his table and heading to check out.
Marco hadn’t seen Clarence at the library the following weekend, so he ended up just walking to his hostel alone. He stood in front of the mirror attached to the back of the door and watched his reflection. He was honestly just another face in the crowd; dark blonde hair, blue eyes, average height, small feet.
“Marco, open up,” his African roommate, Guy Nyabiba called from the corridor on the other side. He was two years older. Marco opened the door to see him and surprisingly so, Clarence.
“Do you have ten pounds?” Guy asked hurriedly, Marco shook his head shyly and looked at the ground. Clarence’s gaze was burning into him.
“You’re not very helpful today. I’ll be back Clarence, you can sit with Marc if you want till I get back, warning, he’s about as fun as a bundle of twigs.” Guy said heading towards the stairs at the end of the corridor.
“Depends on who’s holding the twigs,” Clarence called out to him just before he disappeared. Once it was, his gaze returned to Marco.
“Didn’t know you were his little roomie,” Clarence said, his voice considerably rose.
“I hadn’t known you were his friend,” Marco replied and a silence fell.
“I am constantly creating myself,” Clarence said breaking the silence after a while.
“What?”
“You were observing me in the library the other day, most likely thinking what I was doing there. I’m creating myself.”
“Why so?” Marco asked perplexedly, “Isn’t the library meant for students’ use?”
Clarence looked away quickly, and peered briefly at his cell phone that had just vibrated, “See Marc, when you read a good book, that you like, it reflects on you, teach you lessons. You get what I mean?” he paused, walked down to the window and peeped out, “What’s the point of living if you don’t leave behind anything extraordinary. You have to live and not just survive.”
Marco didn’t have a reply to this explanation, he just nodded and narrowed his eyes like he was grabbing the idea, then they sat and stared at one another until Clarence grabbed his phone and began typing in, his contact information and then handed it back to Marco.
“I gotta go, tell your roomie I’d see him later.” he said.
“Okay, I’ll… text you?” Marco asked, staring at the phone with Clarence’s number on it.
“I’d rather hear your voice than read your text,” he said before hurriedly walking towards the door while still peering at his cell phone.
Marco was sitting in front of his desk, he had just finished talking to the boy with the red hair, he claimed he had to attend an important class but it was a Saturday, classes were never held on weekends. Marco was scribbling dreamily in what seemed to be his diary. His eyes were narrow as his lips moved slowly to the rhythmic dance of his pen. He was writing about his crush, Clarence Price, the new student, if he was even a student. About the times they spent together on the beaches, the kisses, the romantic moments they shared, the nights they stayed out late gazing at the stars and discussing their future after Presley College. Now, these things never really happened, or perhaps they did but only in Marco’s introverted mind.
Marco had been homoerotic since before his puberty signs came. He first noticed his attraction to the other boys at age nine, in Leeds where his family lived, but never did he take the queer feelings serious until after his thirteenth birthday and his glands began to break loose. Marco confirmed his sexual orientation but was careful never to display any signs that could tell on him but he couldn’t control the situation whenever his mates suspecting nothing, took off their clothes or unzipped their pants to pee.
The door flung open and Guy rushed in with a large bag, the kind that usually contained borrowed books from the library.
“Hullo,” he greeted, his black face dripped with sweat.
“What’s in the bag?” Marco asked nervously as he closed his diary and placed it on his lap.
“Just groceries and a few clothes.”
Marco watched as Guy emptied the bag on his bed and some packs of red meat fell out.
“Where did you get those?” Marco asked pointing at the meat.
“Borough market of course.”
“You know the rule,” Marco said picking up the meat and placing it inside the mini refrigerator on which a large mirror was placed. “Did you sneak out again?”
Guy scurried over to Marco, “Shhh!” He hissed. “I know it’s forbidden to eat meat here but I’m not a veggie!”
“You know the rule,” Marco repeated, “you could get suspended.”
“They’d never find out,” Guy scoffed, “but since it’s here already, you can as well join the feast.”
“You talk like you don’t know that I’m veggie.” Marco frowned.
“Presley is just one old dump, too bad I got accepted by the strictest Christian school in Great Britain,” Guy complained, “it’s like saying Jesus never ate meat but He did on several occasions and I know He still does in heaven.”
“That’s not funny.” Marco pointed out.
“It wasn’t a joke,” Guy bent over to take out the other contents of his bag; a bunch of banana, some noodle packs, tomatoes, a pairs of ripped jeans and some tank tops. He faced the mirror and began to unfasten his belt, afterwards, he removed his shirt and trousers, naked except for his red underwear, he faced Marco and noticed that he was observing him closely.
“What?” He asked puzzled.
“Nothing,” Marco sighed, his eyes strolled from Guy’s face to his crotch and back, “you haven’t shaved?”
“Too busy,” Guy said, “I hardly have the time these days,” he raised his hands up, “at least I waxed my armpits last weekend.”
“You shouldn’t be too busy for personal hygiene.”
“Who cares about my grooming choices?” Guy smiled, “I can do anything I want to do here, that’s why it’s called private.”
They both laughed at the joke while Guy began to try on his new clothes. Marco watched keenly, his hormones were beginning to move and stylishly, he picked up a Presley Times Newspaper from the desk and placed it with the diary on his lap.
The weather was unusually very cold and everyone wore thick clothes, Marco’s was a blue and white striped turtle-neck sweat shirt, that morning, he had woken up to the sound of Clarence’s soft knock on the door, Guy himself had slept out and his bed was empty. Lazily, Marco left his bed, expecting to see Guy but instead, Clarence stood there grinning, he said he was bored and needed some company, Marco had suggested seeing some new horror movies he had but Clarence insisted on them driving to the café for breakfast, he had brought his vehicle. Marco didn’t object for the idea of a free breakfast, he hurried to the bathroom and in a few minutes, he was out, wearing a T-shirt and a pair of white shorts.
“It’s pretty cold outside today,” Clarence had warned, “I won’t wear that if I wear you,” Clarence himself was dressed in a purple overall, beneath was a brown shirt and round his neck was a Presley scarf.
The two were having doughnuts and milkshake at the café while they joked and gossiped about teachers, it wasn’t a boring moment as Clarence seemed to have so many humorous jokes that made Marco laugh so hard until he spotted Anil Joni Mitchell from a distance. He was sitting alone at the far corner, Anil never sat alone, when he did, it meant trouble; his eyes were constantly fixed on them. He wasn’t eating or drinking, only watching keenly like he was learning the basics of some important experiment. Marco felt nervous by his gaze. Anil had never liked Marco though he often visited the room to see Guy who wasn’t much of his friend. On several occasions, Anil had tried to read Marco’s diary which he thought contained the secrets to Marco’s successful science essays.
“Let’s leave here please?” Marco whispered.
“Why?” Clarence asked between mouthfuls, “I’m enjoying your company.”
“Same here but I just want to leave.”
“To my place then?”
“Anywhere but here.”
Marco got up and Clarence followed, they walked to the parking lot where Clarence’s truck was parked, nothing fancy, just a white, two door truck. Not the one that was unnecessarily large or small but somewhere right in between. They got in and Clarence started it up and drove off. At the main gate, Marco looked out for Anil but he wasn’t there anymore. “Loser!” he thought.
While they drove, Clarence asked Marco about his family.
“They’re not very supportive,” Marco said.
“How can you say that?” Clarence asked, after they have sponsored you this far at Presley?”
“I do not mean monetary.”
“What then?”
Marco meant his sexuality but he wasn’t so sure if he was ready to disclose that to Clarence or anyone else.
“They treat me like I’m not a part of them.”
“Well, I must say your family is better.”
“What?”
“Mine threw me out when I got involved with marijuana.”
“You smoke that!” Marco exclaimed.
“Not anymore though.”
“I learned it’s very difficult to break drug addiction except after going through rehab.”
“No, I didn’t need rehab.”
Marco had wanted to ask how easily Clarence had learned to quit smoking but at that moment, the truck made an abrupt halt. He looked around and realized they were in an unfamiliar lot, dry leaves and twigs littered the ground and dusty park benches stood here and there, wild plants had grown all over them in spooky spirals. Not far from the truck was a clear, small pond that ran slowly into the bushes.
“It’s running to River Thames,” Clarence laughed as he stepped out of the truck, walked to the pond and began to douse his face, “lend me your handkerchief,” he spat after raising up his head.
“What’s this place?” Marco queried as he passed his white handkerchief to him but there he stood with a smile, wiping his dripping face and hair.
“Ready for an adventure?” He asked passing back the handkerchief.
“Where are we going?”
“Some place where no one knows our names.”
“What do you mean?” Marco looked around, “there’s no life here!”
“Exactly that, to go somewhere where no one is, to have some privacy,” Clarence said and began to lead the way through, a smile spreading across his face.
Marco couldn’t help but stare, Clarence smiled so much so he decided to study him. The more he looked, the less real his smile seemed, the more dead his eyes looked.
“What is it?” he asked, looking at Marco through the corner of his eye.
“You smile a lot.”
Clarence’s face fell, turning a void that was dark, dry, and sad. His eyes focused completely on the road, and then he began to scratch his red hair. “Yeah, I know,” he muttered, his voice almost inaudible and cracked. He cleared his throat, “I just want to show you where it all began.”
“Where what began?” Marco asked curiously.
As soon as Marco got home almost four hours later, he went up to Guy who was working on his laptop.
“Tell me all you know about Clarence,” he demanded.
“Clarence. Well, he’s complicated. It’s not really my place to tell you. It’s his, but Marc,” Guy explained, “he’s sad, he is miserable in fact.”
A heavy sigh escaped Marco’s lungs and slowly, he turned and made his way back to his bed. He tossed and turned, lost in thought, then he took out his handkerchief, the one Clarence had used earlier, It was slightly stained, like someone had tried to clean up a rusty surface, more like red dye. “Who is he?” he thought.
The next morning came quickly and just as planned, Marco had to run over to classes. He hadn’t thought of meeting Clarence after what happened yesterday but he watched out for every red hair he saw, just to make sure. In the class, Anil himself had already taken his position and was working on his iPad when Marco got into the room, the uncomfortable silence sickened him, everyone was doing something that kept them quiet. He walked to his seat and checked the time, twenty-four minutes more and the lecture would begin but just as he let up his eyes, he saw Anil standing in front of his desk and peering down at him. That wicked smile slowly darkened up his face.
“Where’s your friend?” Anil scowled.
“Who?”
“Your new friend, Mr. Red Hair,” he joked.
“He’s not my friend.”
“Oh!” Anil jeered, “He’s your lover then?”
Marco looked a lot nervous as he made a cross face at Anil, “I’m not gay,” he said, “and if I am, I don’t think Clarence would go out with me, that would be a bad idea.”
“You’re right; I don’t think going out with your traitor is a good idea.”
“I don’t understand,” Marco said.
“Clarence is a robot, my robot.”
“I don’t understand,” Marco repeated.
“Come,” Anil said, “I’ll show you.” he grabbed Marco’s arm and led him quickly, past the classrooms and the library into the locker room and then, into the bathroom.
“Why did you bring me here?” Marco asked puzzled.
“To reach a reasonable agreement,” Anil said and began to scroll through his iPad while Marco just stood still, like a scarecrow and observed.
“Look at this,” Anil announced after a while and handed over the iPad to Marco.
“Oh my God!” Marco exclaimed.
“You know what that is?” Anil mocked.
“Yes,” Marco stammered shivery, “it’s my… uhm… my diary,”
“You think writing fantasies about boys is a good idea right?” Anil suddenly got serious.
Marco was speechless; his heart raced as he thought hard about how Anil could have possibly got scanned copies of the pages of his diary, it wasn’t missing for a second as he remembered writing some pieces into it last night before bed.
“Surprised aren’t you?”
Marco nodded sheepishly.
“Well,” Anil explained, “You don’t believe Clarence would do this to you right?”
Marco’s head ached and he suddenly felt weak. He bent down and leaned on the tiles as a tear escaped his left eye.
“I thought you were keeping some interesting stuff in that diary of yours, you know, passing all the courses with no carryovers, so I hired him to find out.”
“Hired Clarence?” Marco was doubtful; Clarence had seemed too real, too good to have been hired.
“I paid him to get me your diary but you never took a break from it, so we came up with a new plan,” Anil explained, “he stole the keys from your satchel, then I sneaked into your room while you two were having fun at the Old Pilgrims’ Park.”
Marco was puzzled, “You know about that too?”
“Yes,” Anil smiled mischievously, “Clarence tells me everything, I thought you said being lovers wasn’t a good idea but you allowed him to do that with you, now you’re not only a liar but also a sodomite,” Anil laughed so hard his ribs twitched.
“Anil please,” Marco begged as he got up from the tiled floor, “Buggery has a penalty of expulsion here; please keep my secret and I’d do anything you say.”
At this, Anil’s eyes widened, “Anything I say!” he exclaimed.
“Anything, I promise.”
“Be my lover then,” Anil said and turned his face away, obviously waiting for a positive answer.
“That’s not possible,” Marco said slowly in disbelief, he moved closer, “are you gay?”
“Bisexual.”
“Wow, I didn’t know,” a new excitement descended after hearing this news, Marco seemed to have forgotten the situation he was in.
“Happy to hear that?” Anil asked, he was suddenly becoming friendly.
“Uh… Perhaps,” Marco replied timidly.
“I’ve been up against you because I liked you,” Anil opened up.
“Seriously?” Marco asked.
“Yes.”
“You do have a funny way of showing love.”
Anil smiled and stopped when he noticed Marco staring awkwardly. “I know that stare,” he said.
Marco had never imagined Anil Joni Mitchell to be so nice, he had known him over two years but never had he seen that friendly smile he was looking at, steadily, his introverted mind gave way as he moved closer and closer towards Anil until he had his back against the wall.
“Do you think so?” Anil asked timidly.
“Perhaps,” Marco replied in the same manner.
Slowly, Anil spread his right hand around Marco and gently caressed his neck with the left. Then he raised Marco’s head slightly and their lips met. Anil couldn’t remember if it had ever been longer.
“It’s my longest,” he smiled when they finally let each other go.
“I liked it,” Marco shyly admitted, he went closer and reached up to have a second round of the tongue wrestling but barely three seconds after their lips met, the door burst opened!
Marco looked up sharply, his heart skipped a beat.
“Jeez!” Anil exclaimed and hurriedly stepped aside for Robert Clark the senior prefect and his assistant, Elvis Mbuya, to come in. They were obviously shocked to their bones.
“We saw you pulling him all the way and so we decided to follow,” Robert announced gesticulating wildly, “sorry if we ruined the fun.”
“For how long has this been going on?” Elvis asked critically, he was looking at Marco. It seemed like they had arrived too late to have heard the earlier conversation.
Marco was speechless, he looked at Anil whom he had expected to be braver, but he was shivering even more.
“Please Rob, Elvis,” Marco begged, “It’s actually the first time.”
“And definitely your last within Presley,” Robert said.
“Please be kind,” Anil shivered.
“Homosexuality is not welcomed in this school, you know it.”
“You’d have to beg the authority,” Elvis said regretfully, like there was nothing he could do to save the situation.
“That’s true,” Robert confirmed in the same manner.
It was a warm summer afternoon and Marco had just left the counselor’s office, he and Anil had been advised to go through the one week psychotherapy procedure that was mandatory in Presley after students committed such crimes, sadly, theirs was the first of its kind and even the counselor wasn’t an expert at handling homosexual teenagers.
His parents had already booked his flight back to Leeds and the press club had published the news of the two boys expelled for snogging in the bathroom, they had never been more excited about releasing an issue of the Presley Times Newspaper; news like that sold the most. Anil himself had left campus the day before without saying a word and Guy was still very mad, he wasn’t so about the cause; Marco’s expulsion or his depraved crime?
Marco got into the room and looked around; it seemed like a dream, he would have to give up his education at the prestigious Presley College, the same education that his parents had spent thousands of pounds on. He sobbed as he began to pack his bags, his flight was scheduled for the next four hours and he had to get to Gatwick before time.
A soft knock on the door startled him; he had almost forgotten that there were still more people living in the world.
“Come in,” he said, quickly wiping his eyes with the yellow socks he was about putting in the bag.
The visitor hesitated for a while before turning the knob and pushing the door open, it was Clarence, but not exactly the same Clarence Marco had known, it was a new version of the old one; dark hair, straight and pulled back, there were no waves anymore, no black studs, no tanned skin, no brown contact lenses.
“Hello,” he said, still hesitating at the door, probably scared of an angry blow from Marco if he came any closer. It was the first time they were meeting since after the incident at the Old Pilgrims’ Park.
“Hey,” Marco said, still shocked by the changes, it seemed like Clarence was a total stranger; he looked so different. Clarence himself was surprised; he wasn’t expecting a warm welcome.
“I’m sorry that you have to leave,” he said, gradually approaching.
“Don’t be,” Marco replied, trying hard to hold back the tears, “wasn’t your fault.”
“I liked you as a person but what happened in the park wasn’t part of the plan.”
“It’s okay,” Marco insisted, “I have to leave now; got a flight to catch.”
“Can I drive you?”
“No thanks,” Marco managed a smile, “You’ve done enough damages already.”
“I thought you said it wasn’t my fault?”
“It was in some ways, not entirely though.”
“So who else is to be blamed, Anil?”
“No, me.”
“You?”Clarence asked, “but how?”
“I trusted you too much, that was my mistake and I regret that.”
Clarence looked sorrowful, “Marco, I’m sorry, I needed the money Anil offered and it wasn’t anybody’s intention for this to happen,” he waved his arms towards the bag.
“But it happened anyway, and worse still, everyone knows who I am now, even my family.” Marco couldn’t hold it anymore, he began to sob.
Finally, after the sobbing and the comforting and the pleading, Marco left for the airport in Clarence’s truck, he recalled the last time he was in that truck, if only that day would return, then he could have been able to avoid the disaster right then. He had never imagined flying back to Leeds so soon; he had three more years to spend at Presley, three more years of a fun filled education. Worse still, his dad wasn’t liberal when it came to homosexuality, what if he never even bothered about an education for him? Marco could remember hearing his father condemning homosexuals whenever he read about them in the daily papers or when one of them strolled into his delicatessen to eat, he had so much disdain for them yet coincidentally, what he hated fell hard upon him.
Hours later, after taking off, a hostess came up to him with her trolley and handed him the menu card, it didn’t seem like he could ever manage an appetite in the next ten years but he had heard that people who rejected food on the plane were drug couriers who didn’t have extra spaces in their stomachs to accommodate food, he wasn’t sure if this was true but he decided to eat something. He peered into the trolley and his stomach tightened.
“Lacto-ovo-vegetarian meal please,” he said to the hostess.
“Euh..I’d see wat we‘ave left for yiu, son,” she said with a gentle French accent before hurriedly leaving for the first class cabin, Marco wished she didn’t find any vegetarian food and would return to say “Sorry son, zis are all zere eez,” but rather, she returned with a medium sized plate of squash soup and a whole grain bread, “Oui! Tomato or vegeetaybul jiuz?” she asked.
“That please,” Marco replied pointing at the green vegetable juice, he managed some bites and soon fell into a slumber.
He sprang up as soon as the plane touched the ground, then left, after checking out, to the car park where Walter Mann was waiting to receive him, Walter was his family’s chauffeur. His father must have been very mad, during his past visits, he had always made it his joyous duty coming to the airport, Marco wished Walter hadn’t heard about his expulsion and everything else that had happened in London but unfortunately, he already did and while they drove, he began his one of his boring preaching, occasionally stretching his thin neck to peer into the rear view mirror.
The car finally reached the street, everything was still the same, just like it had been the last time Marco had visited, the streets were still clean with beautiful white and crème coloured buildings, very few of them had gates. The only thing that changed was the new atmosphere in Leeds, Marco knew something else wasn’t just right and it had nothing to do with what had happened in London. The first person he met was Audrey, his older sister who had just graduated from an American college, she was holding an unfamiliar miniature dog. She seemed happy, yet emotional, almost tearful when she saw him approaching, confounded, probably surprised that Marc with whom she had grown up was queer. Before Marco could get to where she stood , she looked away and hurriedly left into the cellar.
In the living room, his mother lay quietly dozing at the corner, his father was holding some documents, on his lap was an old, large envelope, Marco recognized it, it was the same envelope that contained birth certificates and other documents that his father thought were too confidential or irreplaceable, he was wearing his white framed glasses and peering into one of the birth certificates, Marco’s.
“Hello dad,” Marco managed to say, obviously, he didn’t expect a reply, not even a look or any form of acknowledgment but shockingly so, he did.
“Hello son,” his father said and waved at the chair opposite him.
Marco felt dizzy, his father had never demanded for a close discussion before, his eyes strolled to where his mum sat, leg crossed, sleeping peacefully, as though nothing extraordinary had happened, like he had just returned to Leeds for a short school break, as if she hadn’t received the shocking news of her son being gay. During his past visits, she had always welcomed him with the best homemade vegetarian dish there ever was, better than those from the British Airways’ kitchen and from Presley College put together. He couldn’t concentrate, everyone was acting strange and he couldn’t imagine why.
Marco sat down and sighed regretfully, “I’m sorry, dad,” he said.
“Being sorry doesn’t change anything, you’re still homosexual,” his dad shook his head, “you’ve been expelled from Presley, being sorry doesn’t change that.”
“I know dad,” Marco paused and sighed again, “I was set up.”
Mr. William stared hard into his son’s face, “I want you to have this, Marc,” he said and handed him an old sheet of paper, its four edges were dogged-eared with folding marks here and there. Marco stared at the paper, and back into his dad’s eye.
“Read it,” his father whispered.
“Marco bent his head and began to read through the fading letters, while reading, his heart raced and then he discovered that he could read no more for tears had filled up his eyes. He let up his face and faced his father, he had never seen him look so sad, his eyes were filled with tears too.
“Tell me it’s not true dad,” Marco sobbed.
“I’m sorry Marc,” his father said, “it is.”
Marco buried his face in his hands and began to sob hard.
“I’m sorry we should’ve told you since,” his father said and looked towards his wife who had just stirred awake, probably from the sound of Marco’s sobs, she was coming towards them, when she got to Marco, she took the old letter from his hand and frowned.
“We talked about this!” She exclaimed before hitting her husband on the shoulder.
“I’m sorry but he needed to be told the truth ,” he said.
“But why now?” She asked, “he’s going through a lot already, why did you have to tell him now?”
“I’m sorry,” Mr. William repeated, “Someone had to tell him.”
“You’re so evil!” Mrs. William screamed, “You’re telling him now because of his mistakes right?” She bent over and held Marco tight, “I’m so sorry Marc,” she said, “its God’s will for you to be who you are.”
“Is it true mum,” Marco asked tearfully, his face was red all over, “was I really adopted?”
“I’m sorry Marc,” Mrs. William repeated, “you will remain the only son of the Williams for as long as you live.” She was crying too.
In the train, Marco tried to remember what growing up was like, he had been the vibrant, young and adored only son of Mr. and Mrs. Williams, his aunts and uncles too had been very nice to him, always tugging at his rosy cheeks whenever they came visiting, sometimes, uncle Jake and aunt Adriana brought him homemade cookies and pear juice from their shop and by afternoon, they would all gather round the large dining table in the kitchen and eat lunch together, he could recall once, when granny Louis made everyone upset by calling to tell that she wouldn’t make it to dinner because she had gone out on a date with her dentist, uncle Jake, granny’s last child had joked about how bad it would be if granny made him an older brother, but granny’s joke came to a happy end after the door bell rang and she showed up holding a freaky large pizza, ‘generation sized’ like mum had jokingly said, she had been delayed because she had to wait to monitor the chefs while they made the pizza to her specifications.
Marco smiled at those memories, he had grown up thinking they were all family, his older sister, Audrey had been avoiding his eyes since he arrived, perhaps she too was feeling the shock, but Marco wasn’t so sure if he could identify why she was shocked; his sexuality, the expulsion letter or the adoption’s.
He had made plans with his mother to visit St. Gregory’s Orphanage in Manchester, at first, she had been reluctant to approve of his decision to find his real family but his adamance left her no choice, he copied the address from the letter his father had left with him and looked forward to the trip, he hoped he would at least find someone related to him, maybe an aunt or grandmother who would make him feel at home again.
While the train went, he visualized himself beside his father in his car, on the road from the airport, discussing his needs for the next academic session, then he recalled his mother’s vegetarian delicacy, he almost smelled the food right from the street outside as he and dad drove. Marco was very sad; those discussions would never be again and worse still, he would miss mum’s food, somehow he thought he would have remained the timid, slender boy at Presley, living with his rebellious and humorous black roomie, Guy, in fact, he thought dad wouldn’t have broken the secret if only he had never met Clarence, the boy with the red hair.