The Expat

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A man falls in love with a mother and her child.
16.2k words
4.84
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Kojak01
Kojak01
735 Followers

Author's note:

A romance of roughly 16k words. There are no further instalments. There's not much to be said beforehand. I hope you enjoy it and please don't forget to leave a vote.

The city where the main story happens is fictional as are all characters within the story.

My thanks go to my editors. Stattion for his help to make the storyline consistent and fluent and Joffa for his spelling, grammar and punctuation expertise.

++++++++++

I sat on my towel in the shadow of a birch, my back leant against the trunk, trying to make sense out of the report from the finance department that they had finally delivered, late on Friday afternoon. It had taken them a whole month to collect all the data I had requested and generate the tables and graphs I felt I needed to understand where the problem was. I had been working literally non-stop for the last month since my arrival here in Bomery in the United States on the eighth of June, trying to familiarise myself with the company, the tenants, the employees and the various procedures. Today was the first day I had taken kind of off. That meant, I took my tablet to the park and was sunbathing a little while working. I knew that it wasn't very smart to drive myself like that but from my experience, it was important to get to the root of the problems as fast as possible. There would be time to take it a bit easier later on but right now, working on a Saturday afternoon was nothing to worry about.

Reflecting on the data before me, I let my eyes wander over the lake. Children playing in the water, adults standing in the water cooling down a little keeping a watchful eye on their kids, a couple of SUPs (stand-up paddlers), a few motorboats and a handful of sailboats further out. It was rather loud, a typical sunny day in the lake park I assumed, but it was a happy noise and didn't disturb my concentration at all. I sighed contently, enjoying the livelihood around me and the warmth on my skin and looked forward to swimming a bit later.

I continued studying the report when the happy noises of the park were disturbed by a revving engine. A speedboat, far overpowered for a lake like this one, sped along the shore. I observed that it was manned with a couple of youngsters, two guys and two girls. I saw the accident happen long before it actually did. The guy at the helm was looking at and chatting with one of the bikini-clad girls instead of keeping his eyes on the path the boat took and steered straight at a pedalo with a woman and a small child in it. I just knew he would either crash into them or, with a lot of luck, be just about able to turn his boat around but still overturn the smaller and lighter boat.

I acted instinctively as years of training took over and I jumped up and ran towards the boat bridge which was mostly being used by young teens to hang and play. I had my sight locked on the scene that was about to unfold and was relieved when I saw the speedboat turn around at the last moment, creating a big wave which capsized the pedalo. At least they hadn't rammed it. I heard screams from the shoreline but ignored them and continued out on the bridge. It took only a few more seconds to reach the end of the bridge and I dived into the water the way I had learned both during my time in the swimming team at the University and during lifeguard training. My entire experience from working as swim instructor and lifeguard during my time at University screamed out against what I was about to do. The water was cold and I was aware of the risk I was taking diving in without cooling down first but there was nothing I could do about it right now.

They were about fifty yards out and I estimated it would take me half a minute to get there. I focused on my movements. Stroke, stroke, stroke, breath left, stroke, stroke, stroke, breath right, stroke, stroke, stroke, breath left. Fortunately, the water was quite clear out here and I could already make out the overturned boat while I looked forward in order to keep going in the right direction. Stroke, stroke, stroke, breath right. The picture became clearer. The child was flailing and screaming but the woman did not move. Stroke, stroke, stroke, breath left.

I stopped when I was only a couple of yards away and took the situation in. The child, a girl, was wearing a life jacket and was not in an acute danger of drowning but the woman, I assumed she was the mother, was unconscious. I was relieved to notice that she also wore a life jacket but I also saw blood running down the side of her face and the only explanation I could come up with was that she had been hit on the head by the overturning boat. The decision on how to proceed was easy to make but hard to implement. I let the girl scream for the time being and swam to the mother. She was still breathing. Good. No imminent danger. I cleaned most of the blood away, made sure her face would not drop into the water and turned to the girl.

"Hey Sweetie, I'm here to help but you must calm down and let me approach."

I was treading water while talking to the girl and keeping an eye on her mother. I took a minute until the girl reacted to my voice and stopped thrashing around. As soon as she started to react to me I swam closer, took her by the life vest, continuously speaking to her, assuring her that she was safe, and pulled her towards her mother. I was about to break one of the basic rules of rescue swimming to only take on one person at a time but what was I supposed to do? Leave the child alone out here?

"Sweetie, I need you to hold tight here," I guided her hand to her mother's vest, "so I can pull the two of you to the shore. Ok? Can you do that for me?"

She didn't reply but I saw knuckles get white when she gripped the fabric of the vest.

"Very good. You're a big and brave girl. I'm proud of you. You're doing great. Now keep looking at me. Right. Straight into my eyes."

I had by now positioned myself behind her mother, had grabbed her by the armpits and started to swim backwards towards the shore.

"Can you swim?"

The little girl just looked at me with big eyes.

"You're doing really well. I'm impressed. Can you see the shore?"

She nodded.

"People are watching us."

It was the first time she had said anything to me so far. I hadn't yet had the opportunity to see what was going on at the shore so I cast a quick glance over my shoulder. A couple of men were standing chest-deep in the water and waited for me to bring the two victims ashore while a large crowd had gathered along the coastline and were gawking.

It had only taken me about half a minute to crawl out to them and maybe two more minutes or so to look after the mother and calm the girl so I could actually help. But taking them back took more time and it was exhausting, especially as I kept chatting with the little girl in order to keep her focused. When I finally reached the waiting men, they took the woman and the girl off my hands and brought them to safety. I could hear a siren approaching, one of the gazers seemed to have used his or her brain. While everybody was looking after the woman and the girl I let myself float on the water, caught my breath and tried to relax my burning muscles. After a minute or two I swam to the land, walked slowly and unnoticed towards my towel and started to pack up. I guessed I wouldn't get much more work done, once the ambulance was here. I was just about done when the ambulance came to screeching stop at the curb and a couple of paramedics came running with a stretcher. It didn't take them long to come to the conclusion that she needed to be taken to the hospital and they loaded the woman on the stretcher and one of them took the girl on her arm and they carried them all away towards the ambulance.

The crowd kept watching until the woman was loaded in and then started to look around themselves and returned to their own spots, lively discussing what had just happened. I was a bit surprised but happy to be ignored and decided to call it a day before anybody approached me, and took my packed bag and walked back to my apartment, not even a five minutes' walk from the park.

+

It's time to introduce myself. My name is Phillip Kohler, Phil to my friends, I'm thirty years old, from Switzerland, have a Master's in Business Administration and I am what you call an Expat. My employer, an investment company based in Switzerland, had sent me here because the mall they were operating on the northern outskirts of Bomery was failing and I had a growing reputation as a hatchet man. I had started working for them six years ago right out of University. I had been employed as the right hand of a senior manager who was sent to Fortaleza in Brazil to save a mall from bankruptcy. Unfortunately, he suffered a heart attack just after we had arrived and by the time the headquarters had managed to find and send a replacement two months later I had already successfully stopped the eroding of the sales figures. It hadn't even been very difficult. On the third day on my own, a junior manager had confronted me and tried to scare me off. I stood my ground, he got physical and I somehow took him down. Later the same day I pressed my secretary to tell me where I could find him and I went to the bar he usually visited, ordered two beers and placed one in front of him. My Portuguese was rather basic at that time but he understood my gesture as a peace offering and accepted it. He later became my trusted right hand. The victorious fight and my willingness to let bygones be bygones earned me a lot of trust with the guys.

The successful seduction of a girl I had met at a bar a week later cemented my reputation as a 'real man', a rep that was worth a lot in a country like Brazil. Not that she had put up much resistance to my seduction. In her eyes, I was a rich gringo and her ticket out of poverty. Once the staff at the mall thought that I was one of the good guys, they helped actively by identifying the reasons for the difficulties, listened to my instructions, obeyed my orders and everything evened out fast.

That stunt earned me a quite substantial bonus, a promotion, a raise and an assignment to a mall in Chongqing in China. They were even less happy to see me than the guys in Fortaleza had been. A 'Gweilo' telling them how to conduct business was the last thing they wanted around. I had invested quite some time to learn about local ways and customs beforehand and managed to not insult anybody during my first month. I showed great respect for their ways, didn't touch anyone, asked the seniors for advice and avoided all opportunities for anybody to lose face in front of others. I always stayed in the background and let the locals look good when a change turned out successful and took the blame when something went wrong. It was a very demanding time as I had to be on my toes all the time to avoid stirring things up negatively. Three years after my arrival, everything was running as smoothly as a mall can run and I was sent on to my current assignment: an old mall which had seen better times and was losing customers and tenants fast.

My family situation is the one thing that hasn't been going well over the last few years. My father had wanted me to take over his landscaping business but I lack both the talent and the interest for it. When I told him after my graduation that I wouldn't, he threw a fit and booted me out of the house during the celebratory dinner. My Mom tried hard to fix our relationship but while I didn't have my father's green thumb I was at least as stubborn as he was. I wanted an apology for his behaviour during the dinner and he insisted on me taking over his business. We both felt we were in the right. We came close to reconciling again during Mom's funeral after she had died from a stroke during my time in Brazil. We even managed to forgive each other, but when I had to tell him that I still didn't see my future in the landscaping business, he kicked me out of the funeral feast and we haven't spoken since. I sent him an email, telling him I went to work in China and another one when I was transferred here to Bomery. In between, I sent him my best wishes on his birthdays and occasionally just wrote to ask how he was doing. He never replied to any of them and he seemed to have forgotten my birthday as I've not once received any news from him.

Being an Expat puts a big strain on any intimate relationship you're trying to have. Knowing that you will move on in two or three years doesn't go well with most women and they certainly wouldn't commit to following me on my work-around-the-world trip. I had my fair share of relationships in High School and University, but my last real girlfriend at home broke up when she learned I was about to go to Brazil for a couple of years. We were still friends and in contact every now and then by email and social networks but she had moved on, just as I had, and from what I learned she was now in another committed relationship. Then there was that girl in Brazil, a real wildcat in bed, but that was rather a quid pro quo thing. I had made sure she got an education and a job and she had made sure I wouldn't feel lonely in the evenings and at night. We both knew it wouldn't last but got what we wanted from the relationship. The girls in China were far more reserved and I had been without the comfort of a woman during my time there and I was looking forward to seeing if I could change that, now that I was back in the Western civilization. It didn't even have to be the one great love, just somebody whose company I would enjoy and could connect with on more than a purely physical level.

The rest is told quickly. I'm one metre eighty-three and eighty-two kilos, or as I'm currently working in the United States I should probably say six feet and one hundred and eighty pounds. I still swim a lot. In fact, I made it a requirement both in Chongqing and here in Bomery that my accommodation has a twenty-five-yard pool. I live in a small two-bedroom penthouse on the top floor of a luxury apartment block in the upscale part of the city, the pool is in the basement. I use it almost daily after I get home from work. I'm not bad looking but I also don't consider myself handsome. On a scale from one to ten, I'd say I'm maybe a six. I have my body going for me but that's to be expected if you swim forty to sixty laps a day. I guess I'm not stupid, either. Neither an Einstein nor a Stephen Hawking but smart enough to earn an MBA summa cum laude and write a thesis which, in the end, landed me the job I now have.

++++++++++

Four weeks after the incident at the lake I was working late, again, when my assistant, Constance, knocked on my door frame.

"Phil, you said you wanted to go shopping and the stores are closing in thirty minutes."

"It's Friday, they don't close until eight," I replied without looking up from my work. I wasn't disrespecting her and she knew that.

"As it's seven thirty my statement still stands."

Now I looked up and shot a quick glance at the clock mounted on the wall next to the entrance to my office.

"Then what are you still doing here? Your husband is waiting for you," I scolded her good-heartedly. I certainly didn't expect my staff, especially the married ones, to put in the same hours as I did.

"Don't change the subject. It's time to start your weekend."

I shook my head, "I can't. I still have to find a solution to get us out of this mess. I have the analysis of the current state and now I have to define a reachable target and a way to get there. Time is running out on us."

After two months, I knew Connie better than to assume that she would relent so while still arguing with her, I had already started to pack up. I stuffed a couple of reports and the laptop into my bag and got up.

"Maybe you're right. A couple of laps in the pool and night's sleep might help me find a different approach tomorrow."

"Good boy."

I threw her that annoyed look I reserved for her. She was sixty years old and had two children who were both a few years older than I was and sometimes she reminded me that while I was her boss she was much more experienced in life than I was.

"Yes, Mum. I'm sorry, Mum," I bantered back, causing her to laugh.

"Listen, my kids are coming over and we're having a barbeque tomorrow. Why don't you join us? It would do you good to take your mind off work for a day."

I thought about that for a moment. It sure was a tempting offer; some social interaction might help me unwind a little.

"Thanks for the invitation but until I've found the solution to this," I waved my hand to indicate I meant the mall, "I won't be good company. I know I'm close, I feel it looming just over the horizon and I won't be able to relax until I've found it."

I hung the strap of my laptop bag over my shoulder and walked out of the offices together with Connie. We split up when she went to her car and I took a turn to go and buy some groceries but before we separated, she took me by the elbow.

"We really appreciate the commitment you're showing. All the senior staff here are confident that you're the man to help us keep our jobs. It's not necessarily what we expected when we were informed that you were coming."

I managed a smile.

"Thanks. That means more to me than you can imagine. I just hope you're not betting on the wrong horse here. Whatever the solution will be, it will take a lot of work. Enjoy your weekend."

I walked into the supermarket, grabbed a cart and headed straight to the freezers. Working in a mall has several advantages. One of them is that you have a selection of restaurants around, so you get a proper meal at least once a day. That was important for me as I was a really lousy cook. Or maybe that was a bit harsh. I was an impatient cook and it could easily happen that I had an idea for the mall while cooking some pasta and the next time I remembered that I was cooking there was no water left in the pot and the pasta had burnt. Therefore I tended to buy microwaveable food which was fast to prepare and would not burn down the apartment in case I got side-tracked.

I had just put the bags with my evening meals back into the shopping cart when somebody started pulling on my sleeve. Automatically, I looked to the source of the disturbance, followed the small hand along an arm until I looked into the serious face of the little girl that I had pulled out of the lake with her mother.

"Mister, did you save my life?"

Seeing her stand there, I guessed she couldn't be much older than four or maybe five years. I replied by breaking into a wide smile, turning and crouching down next to her.

"Hey Sweetie, how are you doing? Everything ok?"

She moved a step closer and threw her arms around my torso and whispered, "Thank you," before she started sobbing into my dress shirt. All I could do was try to soothe and calm her by softly stroking her back.

"Suze! What are you doing? Leave that man alone."

I turned my head and looked at the woman that had scolded the little girl that was crying into my chest. I recognised her immediately. She was probably five and a half feet or maybe an inch or two less, slender, had an average bust and pitch black hair.

"You must be her mother. How's your head?"

"What?"

"Your head. You had quite a gash when I last saw you."

I really didn't realise that she had no way of knowing who I was and what I had done. I carefully peeled the little girl, Suze according to her mother, off me, rose and extended my hand.

"Phillip Kohler."

"Who are you?"

"Mom. It's him," the girl explained.

It was now that the penny dropped for me and her at the same time. She had been unconscious the whole time, only the girl had seen me. Her eyes went wide and her mouth fell open.

"Ohmygod."

She rushed over to me, taking my face in her hands, not really knowing what to do, how to express the emotions that ran through her at that moment.

Kojak01
Kojak01
735 Followers