Hapuch's Diary

The news

"Gisela!" I called in amazement.

Her petite figure was decently clad in a short blue housekeeper gown. She was standing by the doorstep, holding a round medium-sized basket.

"It's so good to see you." She greeted, stepping away from the door. She ambled towards me with a warm beam on her thin lips. "How have you been?" She asked.

"I'm uhm-" I stammered, pulling falling strands of my scattered hair behind my ears. I could not lie that all was well, so I reverted the question, "What are you doing here?"

 I stood by the garden fence with a crescent smile on my face. I glanced at her well-packed bun which revealed her round tanned face. Despite, the fact that she had no makeup on, she was beautiful.

Gisela was probably in her mid-twenties, and from what I heard, she began leaving away from her family at age 16. Just like my dad, she migrated to Portugal in search of greener pastures, however, she has a working permit, which my Dad did not have. 

"I came to your babies." She jested, dropping the basket on the grass. She sniffled the fine scent of mint and parsley, and added, "I can't wait to have a taste it!"

"My babies?" I chuckled, I was a bit confused.

"Come on, don't tell me you don't know these leaves are babies," She scoffed, "you feed them, bath them, what else."

"You're so funny, " We laughed boisterously, "they are leaves, not babies. And definitely, not my babies!"

I let the euphoria eclipse into the imagination that truly, these leaves were my babies. We stood in front of the garden with hands rested on the short fence.

 "Madam Hadassah is making her favourite dish today, hence, everything must be fresh." 

"Uh! Yummy and tasty." I mocked.

 Gisela was always easy going, and humble. As an immigrant from Brazil, her Portuguese was not too good, so talking to her, could make even a horse laugh. She was one among the housekeepers of the nice old couple, Mr Federico and Madam Hadassah.

"I'll get it ready now." 

I made to leave when she called me, "Keren!"

I turned to her without a word and drew closer.

"I have something to show you."

She pulled out a folded paper from her side pocket and unfolded it. It was a front page of the national newspapers- Diàrio de Notícías. She handed it to me and point to the upper right corner of the paper.

"Is this really you?" She was amazed. She shuffled her gaze between the paper and me, making sure she was certain. "It's you!" Now she was certain, she raised hands in excitement. "You're in the papers, my friend. Wow! it's wonderful..." She continued talking.

My enlarged eyes were fixed firmly on the paper all the while. The cameraman must have captured me in one of my saddest moments in the airport.

 I studied the picture: My sad face was covered with tears and sweat, my mouth was slightly open. I was talking I guessed, and my hand pointed forward at something. 

I didn't pay attention to what Gisela was celebrating, instead, I grimaced at the sight of the caption underneath the picture of me:

'Adolescente deportado acusa governo de separar famílias.'

It meant in English language: "Teenage child of a deportee accuses the government of separating families."

I did not know whether to be angry or sad at the media's skilful false painting of the real situation. The caption was written to suit their purpose, making it seem like, the government was the victim of a young girl's accusation. I hastily read the few lines beneath the caption and wished for more. 

"Where did you get this?"

"It's actually Sir Federico's when I saw your face on it, I had to bring it to you. I even saw you, your parents and a few others on the news last night."

"Did you read the caption?"

"I can't read, but I overheard Madam Hadassah and Sir Fedrico talking about you."

"What did they say?"

"Madam Hadassah feels sorry for your family, and she worries about you."

"So, why are you excited?" I asked in-between gritted teeth. I was pissed off not exactly at her, however, her excitement was evidently out of place and it was as annoying as my miserable face on that paper.

"I didn't mean to upset you, I understand you're going through a hard time, but-"

"If you did, you won't be so happy seeing me covered in tears, and looking this pitiful."

 I drew closer to her, pointing at each word, at the same time explaining the caption. "Don't you see! The caption states that I am accusing the government, when in fact they separated my family from me."

"Oh!" She gasped. "But it's not like that-"

"Well, it is what it is!" I snapped. My hair stood and my voice grew bitter as I barked,

"that's why those damn neighbours were staring at me! I'm sure they all think that I have a demon or something worse, because, no right-thinking person would publicly accuse their beloved government!" 

I moved away from Gisela only to turn to her again as if I left out something.

"I was the victim, those fatherless kids out there are the victims, but everyone's sympathy is with the government instead of those helpless kids. Now tell me, am I supposed to be happy that I'm on the paper? Huh!"

She was speechless and moved. She stared pitifully at me and stopped her unuttered apology.  

I moved briskly into the garden, with absolutely no idea what I was going there for. Gisela did not attempt to stop me. She stood by the fence not knowing what to do. I could sense that she was blaming herself for my countenance. 

I crouched at the backyard, on the tracks between rows of parsley. 

"This isn't happening!" I dragged air into my lungs hungrily, taking in deep breaths in an attempt to calm my strained nerves. " What will happen if Jochebed sees this?" I groaned. "Oh, God! Why?"

 My hands grabbed the brown moist earth as I prayed, "God, please don't let her see this... please." I couldn't tell when drops of tears fell from my eyes. I was afraid that my sister, Jochebed, would find out the truth.