Chapter Twelve: Out of Their Reach:

Michael gave her a long blank stare. Cephalla could feel herself getting ready to scream.

“Come on,” she said. “Say something.” His eyes trailed to the girl’s grandmother. Between the eyes of the devil and the eyes of desperation, his answer would have dire consequences. Michael frantically waved his hands.

“Uh… bye!” he blurted out. The photographer turned and hurried out the door.

“Come back here!” Cephalla shouted after him. Her voice only made him run away as fast as he could.  He didn’t stop running until he left the neighborhood. The photographer stopped in his track, panting.  What the hell? Why did she have to tell him that? Cephalla just had to go and make things worse. Michael sank down on a bench near a bus stop. He could feel his head spinning.

Oh girly, he thought. You shouldn’t have done that. Michael put his hand over his eyes. The villagers already wanted his head for the way he looked at their little princess. They would probably accuse him of seducing her if something were to happen between them. I don’t want to make this worse than it already is! The worst part was that he had no way to fix it. Michael groaned aloud. He looked up when he heard tires pull to a halt. An old man on a moped gave him a funny look. Michael blinked at him before he could change his mood.

“What?” he asked. The old man shrugged and rode off. Michael dropped his head. Too late to just pretend that this wasn’t a problem now. He puffed up his cheeks. I don’t want to go back there tonight. He should be getting back to his hotel right about now due to setting sun. Michael dropped his shoulders.

I am worrying myself too much with this, he thought. The photographer rose to his feet and walked down the dim and lonely road back to his hotel. The quietness of the street still didn’t sit well with him. I miss the sound of traffic on the road, he thought. If this was in the city in America, Michael would be in the back of a taxi riding back to his apartment. Anything with four wheels wouldn’t even fit on these narrow dusty roads. The motorbikes and mopeds weren’t enough to fill the city void.

Still, the long walk helped to clear his head. Cephalla did look rather for her age. She had the energy of a firecracker. Her smile could make even the most depressed person cheer up. Still, it couldn’t happen between them, right? Michael shook his head as walked up the hill. Come on! Stop thinking about her, idiot! He tried to push his mind to think about something else.

“Hey, Michael!” he heard someone shout at him. The photographer lifted his head to see Mr. Gikas jogging up to his side. He gave the older man a strange look.

“What are you doing out here so late?” he asked. Mr. Gikas gave him a smile fitting of a peacock showing off his feathers.

“Out on a nightly jog,” he replied. Michael gave him an odd look.

“You jog at night?” he asked.

“Of course!” Mr. Gikas bragged. “Keeps me fit in my later years!” He gave the American man a funny look. “What are you doing out here?”

“Oh, I was just heading back to my hotel.”

“Ah!”

“Though, I do need someone to talk to at the moment.”

Mr. Gikas raised an eyebrow at him. “Oh? Did something happen?”

Michael pressed his lips together as he tried to think of the best way to answer that. “You could say that…”

“What happened?”

“I don’t want to talk about…”

Mr. Gikas leaned in closer. “Does it have something to do with dear Cephalla?” The color drained form the photographer’s face. A long nervous laugh escaped from Michael’s lips. The pharmacist glared at him.

“What did you do to her?” he asked in a cold voice. Michael frantically waved his hands.

“No, no!” he shouted. “I didn’t do anything to her! I swear!”

“Then what happened?” Mr. Gikas asked. “If you did anything to hurt that child, I swear I will…”

“No,” Michael cut in. “She confessed to me.” The old man stared at him intently.

“And?” he asked.

“And what?”

“What did you do after that?”

Michael threw up his hands, sighing. “I ran away.”

“You ran away?” Mr. Gikas asked with a disappointed expression on his face.

“What else could I do?” the photographer asked. “Her grandmother was standing there, giving me the evil eye.”

“Then why didn’t you turn the child down?”

“She would’ve bitten off my head.” Michael dropped his head. “I was trapped there.” Mr. Gikas shook his head.

“I understand your situation,” he said. “Still, you should’ve said something.” Michael lifted his head with a blank stare.

“Like what?” he asked. The old pharmacist shrugged his shoulders.

“I don’t know, something,” he said. “It would’ve been better than running away.” Michael frowned at him. The older man patted him on the shoulder, shaking his head.

“Trust me,” he said. “I have been divorced five times.” Michael’s eyes grew big.

“Five times?!” he shouted. “What the…?!” Mr. Gikas tried to quiet him down.

“It happens,” he reasoned. “I fell in love, we married, and it didn’t work out.”

“But why six times?”

“I guess I didn’t know when to quit.” Mr. Gikas stretched his arms above his head. “Though, there was one girl that I had a crush on.”

Michael looked at him rather perplexed. “Who was she?” The older man shook his head.

“She isn’t really important now.”

“So… what happened to her?”

“She ended on an accidental date with a close friend of mine. They fell in love and got married.”

“Oh that’s horrible.”

Mr. Gikas cleaned out his ear with his finger as he shook his head. “Nah, it happens. Life just goes on.” He looked up at the sky. “It’s getting late. I think you should be heading back now.”

Michael gave him a blank stare. “Okay…”

“See you later.”

“Bye.” Michael gave the old man a small wave as he jogged away. What a strange man, he thought.