At The End Of Term

    It was before students and teachers began their work. Rico saw a jaded reflection at the window of one empty classroom. It was framed by steaming breath. Frosty silence wrapped him atop the courtyard stairs at Rewley House. In his image he saw how aged he became. The tanned skin was his since he remembered, but the hairs, grey, were not. The harried creases in his face had been grafted in prison.

    He turned to bricks making up the buildings. Similar stones made up the courtyard wall where he and “Petty Theft” Tomas used to whittle away time. Tom “Petty” had a big laugh. It bounced off the walls.

    Putting out his cigarette, he picked up his tool bag and started down the steps to resume serving the community. As he passed the tree with red leaves - he wasn’t good with names, not real ones anyway - he remembered Rodrigo toiling away at his own garden, lean brown muscles flexing. Dutiful gardener that one. Calm voice he had. Rosita’s eyes he stole. Stole them away from Rico’s.

    Disgusted he looked up sighing towards black roof tiles. A self righteous smirk dawned as he remembered Rodrigo getting black bruises. A red running nose. One broken rib, or perhaps four. Definitely a split lip there. Rosita’s eyes were hard and told a truth of fear and distance that late afternoon. “Just like your father”, she uttered naked before Rico’s fist thudded once more.

    He approached the birch surrounded by concentric rings of stones laid in the pavement. The pattern was similar to the necklace he got Rosita, when her eyes spoke a truth of love and closeness. Hopeful, when they decided to move to the big house with the big garden that needed an extra hand.

    Rico grabbed his shears and began the day. The sound of cutting branches carried in the emptiness at Rewley House.