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It was refreshing to wake up to the smell of dust, the sight of vintage wallpaper, and the harsh sunlight peaking in from a small window above. Polnareff lolled, half asleep with eyes squeezed shut, taking in the feeling of the light covers over him. He extended an arm next to him and felt for skin.
He's probably making breakfast.
Polnareff got out of the bed nonchalantly and forced his eyes open. The first things he saw on the new day were the picture frames in his parents' (old) bedroom, adorned with black and white photos of old friends and family. He dragged himself to the shelves, picked up ones that caught his eye, and stared at them for a while.
He saw himself through the ages - starting out as a gangly young man, but growing taller and burlier by the years. He saw his parents, posing side by side with family expressionless. He saw several family members he recognized, and several he didn't. He saw old friends of Sherry and himself from primary and secondary school.
Sherry.
She appeared in several family pictures, grinning ear to ear with prominent dimples, wearing several dresses, running around, enjoying herself. As he got to later pictures, to his taller and burlier years, he saw none of her. To counter this, he picked up any picture he could find of her doing anything at all.
She didn't need to worry. He sent him to hell for her already.
Blowing the roaming hair out of his face, Polnareff headed to the kitchen.
His assumption was correct - Abdul hurried across the kitchen, still in his pajamas, preparing a morning meal for the two. Despite arriving a short while ago, he seemed very active - probably due to the lack of time difference between Cairo and the quaint French town. Iggy laid by his side, chewing on something. A small television set he had purchased a little while ago aired the news.
"Bonjour, Jean. Tu es venue au bon moment. Le petit déjeuner est prêt."
Abdul picked up cups after plates and set them on the nearby wooden dining table. He and Polnareff sat across from each other.
"You don't have to speak French, you know."
"I'm in France. What else do you want me to speak?"
The two began to eat, during which Abdul caught glances at Polnareff, and looking away when he glanced back.
"What are you looking at me for?"
"Your hair...it's strange when it isn't done up."
"Your hair isn't done either," Polnareff replied, chewing on a piece of bread.
Abdul reached across the table and felt some of Polnareff's soft silver locks.
"At least mine isn't so ornate. We should sleep together more. Then maybe I'll get used to it."
Polnareff flinched in his seat, attempting to hide a giant grin. Abdul covered his face with his hand.
"That's not what I meant."
"What? Are you telling me you don't want this?"
Polnareff gestured to his upper body. Abdul, in turn, giggled with his face still covered.
Casual banter continued as they ate their breakfast. They eventually cleared their plates. They brushed teeth, washed faces, did hair, and put on clothes.
They were going to town today.
Leaving Iggy outside to roam around, the couple headed out on their way. Polnareff was thankful that his house was walking distance from the town. Strolling along the unpaved path among tall fields brought about memories from every age. He played and walked to school in the same grasses.The unrecognizable faces coming past didn't do the images in his head justice and were a harsh reminder that he and Abdul weren't the only ones in the area.
Polnareff feared how Abdul would view the town. Buildings were covered in vines and chipped from corner to corner. The light of the sun created drastic shade between them for the two to walk in. Several stores were closed, only to be opening by noon. Only two or three tables were set outside of every cafe in the crowded passageways. He managed to recognize every shop, every resturaunt, and every corner of every street. He shortly brought his attention to the things he remembered.
"Is there anywhere in mind that you want to go, Jean?"
"Yeah. Just wait a little."
A couple of blocks away lay a large, stone building, neutrally colored and extended from the side. It fit in among the smaller establishments perfectly, existing with a fountain made of the same material. A small cross was displayed from the top of the roof.
"A church?"
"Yeah...Sherry and I went here for Sunday school. I used to train here, too. I'd be taken up to the classroom, and when my mother left, I'd sneak downstairs. Always before the teacher came in."
"That probably caused a lot of commotion."
"Well, you gotta do what'cha' gotta do, I guess. Most of the practicing was just on some rice or flour bags. I'd always clean it up after. I've never been found out, I think."
"I won't ask how you snuck those in."
Abdul wandered to the fountain and walked around it.
"Just used to play around there. Nothing interesting."
"I'm just admiring it."
A couple of minutes of admiring passed before Polnareff convinced Abdul to move on. He seemed to be much more pleased with the area than the native thought he would be. He caught glances at him, smiling warmly and looking around. Even though he was new to the area, Polnareff felt at home with him in the town. He wondered if Abdul felt the same way.
A series of stores followed the opening of the church. A corner shop, a bakery, and a pharmacy among some other businesses squeezed tightly together on the small blocks.
"This truly is a small town. There's nothing very material here. It's all things that people need."
"Not very many tourists come here, anyways. Thank god."
"Then what are the cafes for?"
"For the locals, if they need a break."
Polnareff stopped at a small building at the end of the street.
"This is where the job I was telling you about is. Well, the headquarters, at least. I worked here part time when I was a teen, too."
"They let you plumb at sixteen?"
"I was older than I looked. Extra money also bought Prince albums and coffee for girls."
Abdul's eyes widened in interest.
"Girls, huh."
"Don't get cocky. They're from the past."
"I'm just curious now. You took them all on dates to the same cafe, or..."
"...Actually..."
"Knew it."
Polnareff led Abdul back the way they came. They came to an deteriorated coffee house nearby the entrance to the village. Paint peeled from the wooden covers of the windows and stone cracked on the outside walls. The inside was coated in white tile and lacked a visible door. It sat about ten people, but could squeeze in thirty to fifty at most.
"I used to take every girl I dated here for the first date. The owner just knew what to get me when I sat here. People started calling it 'Polnareff's joint' and said whatever drink the girl gets determines how our relationship would turn out."
Abdul leaned in.
"And now you're taking me here."
"You were curious, weren't you?"
A young looking woman emerged from the back door and to the couple's table. She was obviously not the owner of the cafe, looking about five years younger than Polnareff at most. She took orders for the pair, Polnareff ordering a cappuccino, and Abdul a tea with milk. She then headed to the cafe's counter to prepare the drinks.
"The owner's younger daughter. She has three. I don't blame her for not recognizing me, she's pretty young compared to the others."
"Don't tell me you dated an older one."
Polnareff jokingly pushed Abdul's shoulder.
"I was only a teen back then, okay?"
"I can tell you haven't changed much."
The drinks were eventually brought out, a "merci" in response from the customers. Liquidated sugar was served for their preference. Polnareff poured in a fair amount, and Abdul a large one.
"Didn't know you liked your tea that sweet."
"I'm partial."
He finally finished and took a sip of his drink, slightly puckering due to its sweetness.
"Why'd you put in so much sugar?"
"You told me that people determine the path your relationships take with how your date orders their drink. It's sentimental, but I'm one for tradition. I'm a fortune teller, too."
As the two enjoyed their drinks, Polnareff couldn't help but stare at his date.
Abdul was something of a saint. Since Egypt, which was only four or five months ago, they spent a lot of time talking on the phone and talking endlessly about whatever came to their mind. They comforted each other for as long as they could, not caring about international phone bills and the like. Polnareff only called Jotaro, Kakyoin, and Joseph once or twice since the trip to check up on them. He knew that Abdul was someone he could keep for life.
He didn't mind Polnareff at his worst. He made his stupidness feel less stupid and more normal. His groundedness provided a balance for him - a similar one that Sherry's serious attitude had. For lack of better words, he loved him.
Sherry.
Would she have liked Abdul? Would she have lived with them? She would probably have had her own say about where they should tour in the town. He thought of her walking along carelessly on the stone streets, along steep and tight alleways, behind them.
He would show him the sights she wanted him to see. The places they both enjoyed. He would do the best tour he could, for the sake of introducing his new friend into this old world. It felt like a duty more than a way to kill time, but it was a duty he was very proud to do.
Abdul removed the almost empty cup from his mouth.
"I ought to show you where I grew up, too."
"I've already seen enough Cairo."
"I didn't grow up in Cairo. I grew up in Dahab."
"Well, I'd love to go to 'Dahab'...wherever that is."