Wednesday, January 14, 2009

A child's quest

The morning is especially beautiful in this part of the countryside; More so if you happened to look at the sunrise from the porch of my house. You would get to see the beautiful farms in the east and the trees that lines up behind them, where the forest begins; and then far beyond the mighty mountains from which the sun emerges every day. I sit here every morning, reading the paper and sipping my hot black coffee while I listen to the birds chirping and feel the sweet morning breeze fill the air. Ah! Life is sweet. Occasionally I would stay in the town overnight and my morning would be bundled with jarring sounds of the horns from the cars and utter morning chaos from the market below. It is no wonder then why I miss these quiet mornings terribly.
Today morning I was slightly upset as the paper boy had not turned up leaving me to drink my coffee alone. I thought, I might as well use the time to plan out my day’s schedule. My next novel was about to be completed, and my publisher was hounding me to finish it sooner. Maybe, I would work on that. Lost in my thoughts, my coffee was almost finished. I got up to go inside when I heard a rustle and I saw something moving in between the corn fields. “Darn. It’s one of those animals again. I better get my gun!”
I stood waiting, my gun in position. “Oh boy, It is in for a big surprise!” I thought smiling. And sure enough it was a surprise but not for the animal: for me. For you see, what emerged from the bushes was not an African elephant or a wild-eyed lion, but a little boy, about the age of 5. He looked lost. He stood there blinking his eyes, and I had a suspicious feeling that I was blinking in tandem too. I hid the gun inside my robes as the boy approached near.
“Hey kid! What are you doing out here? Don’t you know there are wild animals around here? Where are your parents?”
“I am looking for my mommy”
“Well there ain’t anyone around here. Where is your dad?”
“He is not here. I am looking for my Mommy”
“Kid, I ain’t seen any woman around here. Tell me where do you live? Come inside, I’ll call your father”
“I want my Mommy. I want my Mommy. Mommy told me not to enter stranger’s house”
I got out of my porch and looked around. There really wasn’t anyone here at all, since morning. Where did this child come from? I went to him and crouched down to look at his face. His eyes were filled with tears. “What is your name?” I asked
“Kevin.”
“Well Kevin, tell me where you live, so I can take you back to your home?”
“No! I came here to find my mom. Papa says she lives here now.”
“Little boy, I live here alone. Tell me where your home is, kid, or at least your phone number? Come inside”, I told him, catching hold of his hands.
The next thing I knew the kid started running away screaming, “I am going to find my mommy today and tell her she has to come home.” Oh man! This is going to be a long day, I thought as I went behind the kid.
“Ok tell me what does your mother look like? Did she go missing today morning?” I asked him when I eventually caught up with him.
“I don’t know”, he said between gushes of tears. “When I wake up, I hear her voice downstairs. But by the time I climb down the stairs, I hear papa start his truck and leave. I am sure he has taken her away and hidden her somewhere. I heard him tell Uncle joe that she is here. I know you have hidden her here. Please give my mommy back to me. I miss her”
“She has not tucked me into bed for so many days now. I miss mommy. I know she is here. But I don’t know where and dad wouldn’t tell me. But I know now that she is here. Where is she? Are you hiding her? What did you do to her? Please send her back home. I really miss her. I will give you the money, I have in my cookie jar, if you will give her back to me”, he said and again started sobbing.
This is it man, I thought, I am really out of my elements here. “Kevin! Don’t cry. Look I don’t know where you mother is, but we could look around if you want? Do you want to go to the nearby town and ask about her?” He pursed his lips and replied with a small nod.
“Ok. What is her name and what does she look like? Hop on to my truck and let’s go to the town.”
It was a thirty minutes drive to the town. In this time he told me about his mother; ‘”Her name is Lila and she is a teacher. She is very fair with pink lips and a beautiful smile. She has long blonde hair that goes all the way down till her hips. She gives the warmest hug ever and makes really tasty chocolate chip cookies. She told me that she was going away for some time and papa took her away. I thought she would be back in a few hours. But she didn’t come back. But today I am going to find her. She will come back when she sees me. She loves me a lot. Dad is ok, but he doesn’t read bed time stories as well as she does. I’ll tell her that when I meet her.” And then he looked out of the window. It was getting gloomy and I could see the black rain clouds in the distance.
Once we reached the town, it had started drizzling already. I took the kid straight to the sheriff and told him the morning’s events. While the sheriff’s deputy took the kid out for lunch, the sheriff filed a missing kid report. However nobody had reported the kid missing so far. When the kid came back, the sheriff gave him a Popsicle and promised that he would look for his mother. I told the sheriff that I would leave the kid in his custody to take him home and was about to leave when Kevin started crying again and said that he wants to come with me and that he was scared to be alone there. To this the sheriff said, “Why don’t you take him with you, I’ll try contacting his dad and bring him to your house”.
“Do I have any other option,” I told the sheriff bemused, “Ok Kevin, get back in the truck.”
While going back, Kevin insisted that we circle the block a couple of times. “Maybe she is out shopping. Maybe she is around here somewhere” he said with eyes so hopeful I couldn’t bear to disappoint him.
It was around five in the evening when we returned back home. By now it was raining cats and dogs. Kevin was awfully quiet on his way back. I took him in and made some hot coco with some sandwich. He ate his meal quietly. He must be tired I thought, and took him to the couch in front of the fireplace. “Take some rest son. Sleep for some time. You have had a long day”.
“Will I ever see mommy again”, he murmured while he fell asleep.
I was watching him sleep when there was a sharp knock on the door. Who could it be at this hour in the night? Maybe it’s his dad I thought, hopeful. I opened it and sure enough there was the sheriff with Kevin’s dad. I asked them to come in.
“I am so sorry about my son. I know he has caused a lot of trouble to you.”
“Oh no! Not at all. He is pretty tired and is sleeping on the couch. Why don’t you sit down and warm yourselves. I’ll get you some coffee”.
Over coffee I enquired about Kevin’s mother. His dad remained silent for some time before he spoke, “Kevin’s mother passed away three months ago. She had cancer.”
“I am so sorry, that must be really tough. I guess that explains it all. But why would he think that his mother was here?”
“Kevin is only four years old. He really does not understand the concept of death. His mother had told him that she is going away for some time, because she couldn’t bear to explain to her own son that he would never see her again. On the day of the funeral, Kevin was fast asleep and we did not wake him up. His mother is buried in the grave yard half a mile away from here. This morning I was talking to her brother and I told him that we should come out here and pay our respects to her. I guess Kevin must have heard that and decided to come here.”
The three of us turned our heads and looked at the little boy sleeping peacefully. His father said, “Maybe he is dreaming of his mother and hot chocolate chip cookies” and we turned away, our eyes turning misty with tears.

8 comments:

Shiro Tora said...

Hey good story .... not as great as your first one... nevertheless a wonderful one !!!

you have a good eye for a script ... just work on fine tuning them. ... and good luck !!!

looking forward to seeing more.

Gaurav Agarwal said...

very well done....m sure u will improve...gr8 work done again!!!

Sanjog said...

I liked the story.. Care for writing a movie script for me coz i seriously think u can. Ur stories somewhat keeps the reader focused n not loose interest. Well waiting for the next one. Bring it on.

pooja said...

v touching .., i disagree that the prev story was better , as both are pretty different in nature .
the innocence of the child is potrayed well, when he offeres money to get his mom back ..thats what i liked the most .

Mukul said...

hi Nea,
nice story. more lucid than your previous one.
there are a few things i would like to point out. do not consider them as criticism or comment or anything else. these are just a few things i felt.
1. your central character, the novelist, seems to have neither a name nor a gender. it would be helpful in imagning the story if you could give any hints to these. i assumed the noveslist was you and subsequently imagined the rest of the story. for a person who doesnt know that the writer is you, such imagination is difficult.
2. while your personal style of english may be emplyed for a single character, the same would sound odd on all of them. all the charaters in this story sound like you. a change in the manner of individual dialogues would help in differentiating the characters better, bringing more of their personalities into the story. i can pinpoint many of the phrases you regularly use in your day to day language. try using different phrasology for different people.
3. overall, did not understand the point of the story. it does not talk about loss in detail, or coping with loss or the trials of explaining the loss to someone who is too small to understand. if the story would have taken one of these lines it would have seemed to have a purpose. right now, the story just is an anecdote whose whole purpose may be relevant in the larger saga but individually it stands for nothing.
i hope i have not offended or angered you. i can tell you things only from what comments people gave me while i wrote stories. dont take any of this seriously.
overall , you inspire me to begin writing again but alas the time wont permit. i really love to read something that one of my friends write, and such occassions are not often, therefore each such tryst is savoured by me.
keep the juices flowing.
all the best
Mukul

Anonymous said...

I think writing stories is your forte, although you have written 6 poems and only 2 stories. Keep writing, and keep us glued to your pen :)

nea said...

Thank you all for your comments. And mukul, points noted. Thanks for the encouragements as well.. will surely write more in the days to come..

Sumit said...

Nice story, Nea :)

I kind of liked the fact that you did not mention the narrator's age, gender, profession or other details. Perhaps, mine is a biased view, because I use that style a lot in my writing too. :)

I look forward to reading more from your pen... er... keyboard.

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