I placed the paper boat that I had made, on the sand. Dad had once told me that if I placed it like that on the sand, the waves would come along and set it afloat. The idea appealed to me. The reason was that I was petrified of the water. Dad knew it. I loved watching the waves ebb and flow but nothing could make me go anywhere near the sea. Dad never forced me to do it either. Dad was like that. He never made me do stuff that I did not like to do.

For instance, I could never get a carrot down my throat. I hated the very sight of the orangish tap root that grew in our garden. I had once poured cider vinegar over the carrot bed. Dad, I guess, knew I had done it. He did not say anything. Instead, he started growing cabbages.

The beach was quite deserted. It was the middle of the week and most people were at work. That was precisely why I had ventured out. I did not like crowds. I did not like people, actually (except of course for Patsy). I hated the way they would stare at me, their razor sharp eyes piercing through my skin and into my mind. They would then smirk knowingly and nod their heads, probably tucking in bits and pieces of what they had discovered, into the crevasses of their minds, to repeat later at the dinner table. Not that I cared. Dad had told me never to pay heed to judgemental voices. “You will be happier, that way,” he had told me. Dad was a wise man.

My boat had toppled over in the breeze. I gave it a gentle shove and the breeze did the rest. It was tossed around till a wave came ambling along and took it away. Seconds later, it disappeared. I wondered what would become of it. Would it float away to another land? It could. I laughed. There is no harm in fantasising. It is fun to let your imagination fly. I have always enjoyed doing that – ever since I started listening to bedtime tales about heroes and villains from Dad. After Dad tucked me into bed, I would lie awake and imagine myself as one of the characters in the stories he told me. Invariably they would be the villains. I found them extremely fascinating. Captain Hook was my favourite.

A couple walked past and stared at me strangely. I hastily folded my mat, packed my bag and headed towards my car.

……..

I sat at the back of the hall to watch the rehearsals of the local church group. While I wasn’t a very active member of the group, I would drop in to watch Patsy perform. Patsy taught at the primary school that was run by the church. She was in her mid twenties, tall, slim with sharp blue eyes, a straight nose and hair gathered in a loose bun at the top of her head. Every Sunday she would come to the church and play for the choir. This year, the children at the Sunday School were performing at the annual concert that was held a couple of weeks before Christmas. She was in charge of the music.

Right now, they were in the front part of the hall, practising for the event. She was standing before the choir, giving instructions. She did not seem too happy with the way the children in the last two rows were placed. She stood there, with one hand on her hip, and the other on her chin, her slender form silhouetted against the stage lights. I sighed. I had been in love with her since I was seventeen. Dad, for some reason, did not approve. I am not sure why. That was perhaps the only disagreement we ever had. He came to know that I was in love one evening, when he stumbled upon a diary that I kept in my drawer. I have no clue what he was doing in my room that evening. I had just returned from my walk and when I headed to my room, I saw him pouring over my diary.

“Dad!” I exclaimed. “What are you doing here?”

He did not say anything. He quietly put the diary away, walked up to me, patted my shoulder and left the room. At dinner that day, he told me to steer clear of Patsy. “She isn’t the girl for you,” he said.

I frowned. “I love her.”

He remained silent. As he rose to put the dishes in the sink he looked at me and said, “There will be a better girl for you.”

“But she is the best,” I shouted. “And I will never stop loving her. In fact I shall be speaking to her next week itself.”

“Don’t,” he looked at me sternly. The nerve just above his right brow was throbbing, as it usually did when he was angry.

“I will,” I yelled and stomped out of the room.

A couple of days later, Dad died – in his sleep. The doctor said that he had probably taken an overdose of sleeping pills. The truth is Dad never took sleeping pills.

After the funeral, I returned home and packed his belongings and gave them away to an old age home. I then continued with my adoration of Patsy for the next six years. I would pick up little nicknacks and keep them at home. I had planned to give them to her when I would finally gather the courage to tell her that I loved her.

Today was to be the day. It was on this very day, seven years ago that I had seen her at the beach with her friends. Later, I followed her home, keeping a discreet distance. I discovered that she lived pretty close to my house. That felt like a sign. Dad had always talked to me about signs. There are signs that tell you where to head. I was optimistic.

I patted my breast pocket. The scented note inside a red envelope was safely ensconced within it. It had taken me exactly a month to write it. I wasn’t too good at expressing myself in words. I had to write several drafts before I managed to write the final one in as neat a handwriting as possible. I felt proud of what I had written. The words, though not very articulate, were honest. I told her how I had loved her from the moment I saw her, how I often followed her around and of how I could do just about anything to have her in my life. I also added that I was the sole inheritor of the family property. At the end of it, I drew a picture of a house with a heart inside it – just to let her know that mine was a house filled with love. Would she please accept my love? A rather unusual way of proposing no doubt, but then Dad always told me I had a special way of doing things. You have an out of the box approach to things, he said. You are special.

I was feeling a little warm. My shirt clung to my back. They were practising the last song of the day. She would then be heading home. My heart had begun to race and my palms were clammy. I began to rehearse my speech in my mind.

Hello, Ms Radcliffe. I am Alan. I live just a few blocks away from your place.

And then my mind went blank. What was I supposed to say next? I tried desperately to frame the next sentence.

Joy to the World

The Lord has come.

Let Earth receive her King.

I got up, agitatedly and moved out of the hall and into the open. The music followed me. I headed towards the church gate and halted outside to draw some fresh air in. There was something refreshingly calm about the silence. I collected myself and then tried to rephrase my thoughts. I could perhaps simply tell her to read the letter and tell me what she felt. Or should I introduce myself, ask her to join me for a coffee and then propose to her? No, that’s something I would not be able to do. The very thought made me jittery. The best option would be to introduce myself and give her the letter. Yes, that’s just what I would do.

People had started coming out of the church. There were young kids with their parents, some older kids and a couple of Sunday School teachers. A few of them had stopped to talk to the priest. I started feeling restless and impatient. She was nowhere to be seen. Why was she taking so long ? A familiar sense of annoyance began to creep in. When I decide on something I need to get it done fast. Dad knew this and had borne the brunt of it on several occasions – how often had I lost my temper when things didn’t happen as planned.

I toyed with the idea of going back into the building. But then I decided against it. I couldn’t possibly talk to her in front of others. There were way too many people around – and I really disliked people. I continued to wait outside.

It was pretty cold. A lot of the people I had seen inside had left. After some twenty odd minutes, I saw her. My heart missed a beat. The moment had finally come. She came out of the church hall and stopped. A minute later, a tall man emerged from the building and joined her. Together, they began to walk towards the gate, their hands interlinked. I froze. I had never seen the man before. The two walked past me and turned right. A little distance away stood a white car. A chauffeur emerged and held the door open for them. The girl I loved entered first and then he got in. The car moved out of the lane and onto the main road.

A sudden zombie-like feeling washed over me. I stared blankly at the retreating car. And then it hit me like a ton of bricks – she had a lover. A surge of emotion gushed forth and I could feel angry tears scalding my cheeks. This couldn’t be happening to me. She was the only girl I had ever loved in my life. She couldn’t do this to me. Life couldn’t do this to me again. I suddenly remembered Dad and felt a deep sense of regret. If only he were here. He would have comforted me and made me feel better.

I brushed away my tears, braced my shoulders and got into my car. I would not give up this easily.

……..

I began to follow her everyday, just to find out more about the man in her life – once, when she left for school in the morning and the second time, when she returned in the afternoon. She was always alone. After a few days, I realised that I wasn’t making much headway. The man obviously did not accompany her to school. So I decided to change the schedule. I needed to keep a track of what she did on weekends.

The following Saturday, I waited at a coffee shop opposite her house. After an hour’s wait, I saw her. A moment later, a middle aged lady followed. Her mother, perhaps. They were talking animatedly. They hailed a taxi and left.

A thought began to creep into my mind. What if the man really wasn’t her lover? What if he was a brother or cousin? Caution however took over. I hadn’t ever been so fortunate. Whenever I had given someone the benefit of doubt, I was proved wrong. Like the time, I thought that the man who visited Mom during Dad’s absence was her therapist – an avuncular figure who counselled her. I always thought he was there as a friend – Dad’s friend to be precise – who would come over to help Mom. It was only after she disappeared and his visits stopped, that I connected the dots. I was all of five at that time. I have no idea why she left, but I did hear someone sympathize with her.

How can one blame a woman who is saddled with a problem child who isn’t even hers? I didn’t know what they meant by that.

Dad went on to raise me alone and gave me all the love and attention I needed. He always told me that I was a special child.

And so I learnt never to give anyone the benefit of doubt. Patsy certainly must be in a relationship and I needed to find out who the person was and act upon it.

……..

A week later, I saw her with him. It was around 8 p.m. I had followed her to a restaurant where she was joined by him. I waited in my car. They were there for a while. When they emerged, a couple of hours later, my heart missed a beat. She looked beautiful – even more than she had earlier. There was a sparkle in her eye and her face had an unmistakable radiance. They paused outside the restaurant and she raised her left hand to his cheek. A huge diamond gleamed under the warm glow of light overhead. A moment later they kissed.

It was more than I could take. My heart was pounding and I clenched my fingers around the steering wheel. When I looked up again he was leading her into his car.

I began to follow them. I was not prepared to lose again – certainly when it wasn’t my fault. I had a strong urge to ram my car into theirs and then get out and grab her. He could die for all that I care.

We had travelled for around five kilometres, when the car in front halted. The beach was to the right. They got out and walked towards it. I paused. It was virtually empty. I hesitated for a moment and then got out of my car. I could hear the faint roar of waves in the distance. I waited to cross the road. They had already crossed over. The moment the signal changed colours, I hurried across. They had disappeared into the dark. I kept moving ahead, the sea wind hitting against my wiry frame. Suddenly I felt something cool touch my feet. I shrunk back in fright, but it drew closer towards me. I ran back, the sand clinging to my feet. When I was far enough, I turned around. There was nothing – just waves ebbing away. I stood rooted to the spot, my feet sinking into the sand. I could hear laughter ringing through the air – the laughter of a man and a woman.

“Hey, Patsy,” I shouted. “I’ve something to tell you.”

My voice was drowned in the roar of the wind and the waves. Suddenly I was very afraid. There was no one around. I gathered all my courage and began to run back in the direction that I had come. I ran as fast as my feet could carry me. I ran to save myself from the terror that was at my heels. I ran – till I stumbled and fell at the feet of a tall figure. I looked up.

Dad ?

I blinked and looked up again. He was looking down at me. I quickly picked myself and stared at him aghast. What was Dad doing here ? He wasn’t supposed to be here. His eyes were a cold look. I looked around. There was no one around.

“Dad, why are you here?” I said. “I made sure you wouldn’t be around to stop me from marrying Patsy. Then how did you get here again?”

I pulled out the knife I was carrying with me. Just then, I felt someone clasp me from behind. I yelled. A hand clamped my mouth. Before I knew it, I found my head reeling and I collapsed in a heap at the feet of the figure that stood before me.

……..

I woke up in a stark white room with white curtains and white bed linen. My hands were tied to the bed. I blinked and looked around. A middle aged man in uniform was seated on a chair a little distance away, reading a book. I made a feeble attempt to speak. He looked up.

“Ah , so you are finally awake.”

He came over to the bed and smiled.

“The doctor said you’ll be fine.”

I frowned. I couldn’t make much sense of what was happening.

“You’re in hospital, young man,” he announced. “You’ve been ill for a while.”

A series of images flashed across my eye – Dad, Patsy, her lover and then Dad again at the beach. Or was it Dad. My mind was in a haze.

The man patted my hand. “Ms Radcliffe gave us some leads. You have been following her for a while. And your Dad’s death. We needed to explore that angle as well. We’ve got our answers. We’ll keep you here with us for a while.”

 

This story was a part of the Tale A Thlon Season 5 organised by Penmancy

Image : Unsplash