Junkyard Blues

Chapter Six

29 C Chapter Six id you check that information?” Derrick asked him early one morning. It was going to be another “your future” talk, Jude could see that. It was not something new and if there was something that he knew it was that nothing worthwhile ever came out from them. Today it was going to be about the recruitment exercise launched by the government to recruit young university graduates. The usual political stuff that always come out during an election year. Jude nodded. “And you’ve what they need?” He nodded again. “Good.” Derrick was busily knotting his tie over a shirt that looked expensive enough and completely at place on his impressive looking structure. She’s going to throw another fit seeing you dressed like that. Jude turned to look at Derrick’s wife, the dragon lady; she was in her corner of the living room, in front of the television, her eyes glued to the screen, the usual scowl painted over her face. She was trying to feed the poor child with a mixture of some baby food that Jude could not guess the content. It was a sad sight to see, a sad and somehow comical sight to see; her eyes glued to the television screen her hand mechanically trying to shove spoonful after spoonful of food into the child’s already full mouth, and the child making a failed effort to avoid the food. The baby was trying with one of its free hands to protest, the tiny baby hand waving to and fro in front of its face, and naturally receiving a constant reflex controlled slap at every moment it was caught in her peripheral vision. Why don’t you just kill the poor thing? Jude thought again feeling the constant repulsion. It was easy and economical for her to just grab the child’s tiny neck and wring it around and save herself the trouble of having to care for it, so she could just concentrate on her husband and hold him tight enough close to her. “D 30 It’s none of your business really, you’re under somebody’s roof and whatever they do is their business. Just keep your cool and try to get back on your feet. But he could not stop seeing the scene; he could not turn away from it. The child spat some of the unwanted food on her and she looked finally away from the television, looked down at it with a look of anger and irritation. For a moment Jude felt she was going to throw the baby on the floor or knock it on the head with the spoon she was holding in her hand, or simply slap its face and crush it like pulp. How do you survive this? “What’s wrong with you? Are you listening to me?” “Hmm?” Jude turned back slowly to face Derrick. Did Derrick even notice all these things or was it that he was already so under her boots that he did no longer care? “When’ll you ever take anything serious in your life?” Derrick asked; he looked a little irritated. He had been saying something to him while he was staring at the struggling child. “You keep acting as if you already have something precious somewhere, as if you know something that others don’t.” You know the only thing I really want, and even if I want this it’s farfetched, Jude thought. “You need to start living in this world and not in some make believe world in your head,” Derrick said, “How much will compiling the documents and everything going to cost?” “About ten thousand,” Jude said. Derrick nodded, picked up his briefcase and was almost out of the house when he stopped and said, “This is a chance you can’t miss.” Then he was gone, having delivered the verdict. ...