The song of the midnight light

My lines write less and my heart feels more
Make my heart and lines beat together as one.
For in those midnight-light lands lies my dream.
Come, let me achieve it and live the rest as I wish.
Come take me away from you and me for I wish so.
And wish will I always.

Pull me away from these throngs. I go deeper into them every second.
Take me to a place where eyes can breathe.
Take me where my mind can see.
They say there is a light that never ebbs; a light that never bids farewell.
The never fading lights drive me towards them.
For as the seconds fade, I pray to be where only a few reside in mind and spirit.

I see beautiful faces leap for the sun as it offers its pleasantries.
For the lands are as pleasant as the Gods old.
With some lamb and cottage stew, my soul rests.
Let it rest now, now when the rest is all it needs.
For when it wakes, it shall die relentlessly.
Let it not die now. For it has many dying days yonder.

Silence

‘She has Alzheimer’s, Mrs. Kapoor. It can just be kept in check, not cured. However, it has been deeply set in your mother’s case; I cannot do much about it. We all have to just hope for the best. I’m sorry.’

‘No! This can’t be true, doctor. Please try doing something. I am ready to pay for any kind of treatment.’

‘Mrs. Kapoor, the disease has been setting in since five years now and this is not the first stroke. Mrs. Pushpa had been a victim to a large amount of stress in her lifetime and all of that has led to this. No medication can help her now. Her grey cells are getting destroyed very rapidly, every second. We can curb it but we can’t create new cells.’

Mala Kapoor ran to her mother’s room at Jaslok hospital and slumped onto the bed. As she looked at her mother’s calm expression, a metal ball of grief pressed at her throat, slicing it to pieces.

She looked at her auburn curls, fair skin and rosy lips. They were replicas of each other. She admired her mother’s beauty as she lay there sleeping in the white sheets. She gave out a slight laugh when she thought of how her mother would hide her age; how for ages she had been only 45 years old. All that had passed.

What she had just heard, stung her heart, crippled it, tortured it. Her poor mother had been a child of God. She was her shield, her friend, her advisor and councilor. She bent to hug her and her insides throbbed with pain as she thought of her mother’s plight. Never would there be a day when she wouldn’t speak with her; but since her father left them, she knew there was pent up sadness behind the veil of her beautiful smile.

She continued crying when suddenly her mother opened her eyes.

‘Who are you?’ She said

‘I’m Mala, maa. Don’t you remember me? Your daughter?’

‘Mala? Oh ok… Why are you crying?’

‘Nothing Maa. Just… I had a bad dream.’

‘Where are we? Why are we in the hospital?’

‘We had to get your regular checkups done. You will get discharged in a few hours. Everything is fine.’

In an instant she had become a stranger, from the pampered daughter to a complete stranger. She looked down at her knees and saw how they shivered and this was only the beginning. Her moist red eyes welled up again.

***

She looked into her mother’s eyes. The light was diminishing as the days went. She sat there in their apartment at Malabar hill and looked through the window. The carrot coloured drapes hung heavily on the window as she looked on, over to the sunset. Mala always thought the sunset was beautiful. But today, she hated it. It reminded her of the offset of her mother’s life, of how the bright blue warm mornings were turning to ruddy cool skies.

Maa was sitting on the milk white couch in the middle of the hall looking blankly at the television set. She looked like she was straining to take in each and every word that was being spoken. Then suddenly she looked over at the coffee table standing in front of the French windows, ‘I have to go and pick up Aju from school. He will be waiting out for me. He’s too naughty. I don’t want him running behind…..’

A chill ran down her spine as she heard what Maa was saying. The shock of it made her mind zoom. She tried speaking but her voice was betraying her.

 ‘Maa? Aju lives in Spain now. He has a family of his own. He is not your little boy anymore. Just rest for some time, please?’

‘I’m not your Maa. Don’t you ever call me that. I know who my kids are. Who are you to tell me anything? Why am I here? I want to pick up my son.’

‘You are my Maa. I won’t let you forget me so soon.’

***

She looked at the clock. It was 2:30 am. The cool night breeze was knocking on her window gently. She was feeling lazy to wake up and check on Maa but she decided otherwise. ‘I hope she hasn’t wet the bed.’ She thought.

The white marble felt cool on her feet as she made her way towards Maa’s plush bedroom and opened the teakwood door. What she saw made her senses halt for a second.

Maa was sitting on the chocolaty brown dressing table, her reflection beaming back at her.

‘You look very pretty.’ She said. ‘I have never seen such beauty. Where are you from? You look like a very decent lady.’ Mala tiptoed into the room now. ‘My name is Pushpa. What is yours?’

The whole room was in a mess. There were cakes of feces pasted on the walls, ejecting volumes of pungent odour. There was muddy water running from the cakes and down the bright peach coloured walls. Mala felt the bile in her throat rise again and again. She couldn’t take this anymore. It was one thing to see your mother like that and another to watch your beautiful house turn into a dump.

She gathered up all her courage and shouted out, ‘Maa, who are you talking to? There is no one here.’

‘And who are you? Are you blind? Can’t you see this lady here?’ she said pointing at her own reflection in the mirror.

‘Yes you’re right.’ She sighed. ‘Now let’s freshen up and go to bed. Aren’t you sleepy?’

She turned back and screamed back at her, ‘He didn’t go missing.’

Nobody spoke for the next fifteen seconds. The silence cut through her every second. She knew exactly who her mother was talking about.

‘Wha wha…What happened to him then?’ She asked softly. ‘He didn’t go missing? Do you know what happened to him?’

‘Shhhhhh. It’s a secret.’

‘Tell me. I want to know.’

‘I’ve hidden him well. Nobody will find him. You won’t tell anyone no?’

‘No I won’t. Go on. I’m here.’

‘I confronted him and told him that I knew what he was up to. I told him. He needed to know.’ She said with a heart wrenching wail.

She had never seen her mother so helpless. Never had she broken down like that. She ran to her mother and squeezed herself against her.

‘And all he said was… I don’t give a damn. Do what you want to.’

Her voice grew deeper with the pain surging through it relentlessly; the anguish creeping into her very soul.

How was she to help her? She thought.

‘I don’t give a damn? That’s what he had to say. How was I supposed to react to that? How dare he treat me like that? I had given my life to him.’

‘What did he do? What have you been hiding?’

Mala noticed the unusually fat sweat beads on her mother’s forehead. Her hands shivered like she was being electrocuted as she reached out to the water jug. She grabbed it and fell to the floor with a loud clang.

‘Maaa. NO!’

***

That night Mala didn’t sleep. In fact, every night after that frightful night, she went to her mother’s room in the quest of getting more clues of her long kept secret.

She knew the man she was talking about. She had heard of him but had never known him. What could have happened all those years ago? He had gone missing in the year 1980. Nobody knew what happened to him. They had searched for him persistently but never found him. Now, she had to search for him. She had to find him because with him went a secret, the secret that had built her mother’s silence.

***

‘God! This room is in such a mess.’ said Mala entering her mother’s room. There were clothes strewn all over the room. The curtains had food stains on them and it smelt of decay. Maa had wet the bed again. She went over to the bed and turned her over. The smell of decay was coming from her.

In the past few months Maa had never mentioned him again. She had tried to ask her but poor Maa’s memory was lost. She turned her over to the other side of the bed.

‘My name is Pushpa.’ She said. That was all she said lately. She had forgotten everything, everything except her identity.

The smell of decay was getting stronger. Maa had a bed sore on her back side. The flesh was hanging lose but she didn’t give out a slight whelp of pain. She had lost all senses. This was her last leg, Mala realized.

She carefully cleaned her sore and put a cool antiseptic powder on it to make her feel better. She then removed the sheets and placed fresh clean ones. Maa barely stayed awake nowadays; she would just eat and sleep.

She now went to clean the cupboard. There was so much work to do. Her hand touched the handle of the cupboard and an unusual thought struck her right in between her eyes.

Her mother kept a diary in her better days. She pored her heart into it. It had always been her way of venting out. She had often advised Mala to do the same. How could she have forgotten it? ‘Maybe that has the answers to all my questions.’ she thought.

She swung the wooden doors open and started searching frantically. Piles of clothes along with her fears came tumbling out of the wardrobe.

There was nothing. The diary was lost.

‘There’s no point thinking about this anymore. It’s all in the past.’ She thought. She started folding her mother’s clothes with dejection and piled them on top of each other. Suddenly, her hands felt something hard. She pulled the clothes apart and there it was. The olive green four-hundred pager lay in the midst of the clothes.

She grabbed it and opened to the first page.

Don’t read it if not yours.

These are my thoughts.

If I catch you,

I’ll make you run on all fours.

She gave out a hearty laugh. She felt like she hadn’t laughed in years. Her fingers took her to page 57 and she read.

The day I found him

Date: 30 April 1974

I had never thought I would get this feeling. I’m so excited. I want to laugh and cry at the same time. When he kissed me, I thought I’m going to faint and the view, Oh God! The view was panoramic. It was just the place to propose marriage; the lofty mountains and just the two of us. I felt like I had broken free. He’s an extension to myself, my body, my mind and spirit.

 Thank you, God. I love you. I’m sure I want this.

‘She was so excited.’ She thought. ‘I wonder how it would feel to be with the man of your dreams.’ She read her mother’s diary entry once again. ‘I would be such a wonderful feeling. Being with him made her feel as though her soul had escaped from the narrow confines of her island country into the vast, extravagant spaces of his. She had found the answer to the questions that plagued every woman’s mind. She had found her future.’ She thought with a smile.

She was flipping through the pages thinking of all the men that she had dated. The smile never seemed to ebb away. She was mindlessly looking at the yellowing pages when suddenly her heart skipped a beat as she registered what was written there.

The day he went missing.

Date: 17 October 1980

I overheard his conversation. The man disgusts me. I’m seething in pain and hate. I don’t know if my vengeance is still paid for. He wanted us to leave for that girlfriend of his, the bitch. He brought her here so many times. What was I to do? Look at them and be happy for the way they made love in my bed? The bastard doesn’t deserve anything better. Let his bones rot there. Nobody will ever know where they’re hidden. I want to bring him back to life and kill him again. He told me he didn’t care a damn. Well, neither did I. I’m going to have a nervous breakdown. My hands are itching with frustration. My head is pounding so hard. I want to cut his body to pieces and feed them to dogs. That’s what I want to do.

She read the lines and looked at the lifeless form of Maa. She lay there, with a bed sore oozing with blood and puss, her mouth open and her eyes empty.

Flash Fiction - Six words speak a thousand stories.

01.       Look into your eyes, they’re crying.
02.       One sole more; one soul less.
03.       We entered the realm blindfolded.
04.       Fire on. The night has begun.
05.       Come seek us in your mind.
06.       Those caves with the hidden sunlight.
07.       Flat tyres. Bulbous fruits. Wonderful journeys.
08.       We walked into the shivers again.
09.       It’s the house that lusts you.

10.      The last six words of doom.

My Inspiration

So, the question is, ‘Name one person who truly inspires you.’ And I think… At first, I feel nobody really inspires me but then I think again and the answer flashes back at me like a bolt of lightning. 

Now, I see images playing in front of me. The first image is that of a man, in his forties rocking on a chair and simultaneously reading a newspaper. His mind is enigmatic; nobody has ever gotten into the interiors of his brain. What he thinks, only he knows. He never lets you enter his mind, never lets you manipulate him. He’s not only smart but he’s more than smart. He thinks, he observes, he calculates and it never goes out of his system.

The second image that now plays is that of the same man. He’s now walking through a corridor, a long dingy one that leads to absolutely nowhere, but he walks and he walks endlessly. He trudges on not looking at his left or right and with a posture upright and again his mind is focused on what he wants. He wants it bad, but he’s patient. He has the ability to move on and move forward. He knows that the road he has taken is difficult, almost impossible but he moves on. Patience is a virtue known to only a few but he is one of them. Courage is a virtue which stays with only a few but I can proudly proclaim that he is one of them. The ability of getting things done the right way rests with only a selected and he is one of them.

As he moves on in the grimy, dingy, dimly lit corridor, he sees a door at the far end. He is curious but he doesn’t double up his pace. He keeps his cool. He walks forward. The door approaches but his mind is stable, unyielding and his excitement, shrouded. But then he opens the door and infinite rays hit his face and warm his skin. His face has a glow almost heavenly and I continue ogling at him as he attains his goal- his dream.

I see the spirit of human endeavour etched into his very soul. I see patience. I see courage. I see perseverance. I see all these traits bound together strongly and intrinsically in none other than my father, my inspiration.

The Unpleasant Surprise

Enter. Smile. Try to like the place now. It’s a little small as compared to your old apartment. At the same time, it’s away from the hideous slums. The stench that they raised would kill a dead rat all over again. But this is good. Sigh. It’s awesome. All this, with your own hard earned money. Good job Judith. You finally found your tiny little pretty house.’

Judith kept her thoughts buzzing as she looked at the studio apartment for the second time. At first she had thought it was too tiny as compared to the previous one but then it was also closer to her office and in a much better locality. The landlady, an old hag with a broken smile and limbs as huge as elephant legs showed her and her boyfriend Jason around the place.

There was a golden yellow lamp that hung just above the bed. It made the apartment look extremely welcoming and cozy. The bed was warm and soft, almost like it was built with a thousand feathers. She sank into the bed and looked at the 18.5 inch TV on the wall opposite it. The beige walls had bright yellow flowers embossed on them that made it look like an astonishingly radiant summer morning in open green fields. Her eyes then fell upon the chocolate brown wardrobe adjacent to her bed that stretched from the ceiling to the floor. It had finely carved wooden handles and an evenly polished surface. Happiness surged through her veins as she admired her new abode. On the extreme left was the baby pink refrigerator. It sat snugly in one corner of the room, without drawing too much attention towards itself. She looked at everything lovingly and instantly felt at home. This had to be better than perfect.

Jason had liked the apartment as well. It was in a better locality and the landlady didn’t mind visitors at odd hours. They had both been relieved when she expressed that. He had been her boyfriend for a good long seven years, which explained the relief.

Her only advice was to keep the little window above the bed tightly shut at all times. No questions were answered, they were only asked. So Judith decided to keep her verbal diarrhea to herself and made a mental note of being the ideal tenant for the lady with the elephant legs.

***

The featherbed cuddled her as she slept in it and before she knew it, the annoyingly loud alarm clock screamed into her left ear.  She scurried to do her everyday chores and ran to catch the office bus. As she got into the ride, she remembered that she had left the little window above the bed, wide open.

At first, she thought of going back, but then she shrugged off the thought.

***

‘Jason. I just got back home from work.  I think I just got robbed. Only, the funny part is nothing is missing. Everything is in such a mess. It’s stinking. There’s food all over. Can you come over please? I’m scared. Elephant legs isn’t opening the door nor answering my calls.’

The phone clicked and Judith ran to the bathroom and locked herself in it. That morning, she had woken up to rush through preparing a simple dinner to reach office on time. She loathed cooking at night. When she got back, the jars of jam were empty. The dinner had been gobbled up and there were remnants splattered everywhere. The crimson carpet had orange juice spilled over it, giving it a deeper shade. Whoever had broken into the house had made sure to devour all the food.

Her body turned cold as she waited for Jason. She could hear the clock ticking and the sweat of fear ran down her thighs, making way right down to her ankles. She strained her ears to hear any sounds but none came. Suddenly, she heard a piercing bawl. There was a dog, howling into the night. His howls were strong and near. The hair at the back of her neck stood up and her skin was turning pale yellow.

The doorbell rang and she ran to get it. She opened the door, hoping to see Jason’s affable face when she stood there facing her landlady.

‘How dare you be so careless? Didn’t I tell you not to keep the window open? I had warned you, you stupid stupid girl.’ She pushed her aside gruffly with her walking stick as she made way to enter the house. Judy gasped and opened her mouth when she cut her off sharply, ‘And no, don’t you go around asking me any questions. You live in my house. You have to follow my rules. The last time this lad left this house open, he faced the same problem. He told me he had made the evil go away. All I had to do was keep the damned window shut. This insolence will not be...’

Just then, the doorbell rang once again and Judy ran to find her love this time. She opened the door and fell into his strong arms.

‘Jason, look at this place. I don’t know why this happened or what caused it. I’m just so scared. Elepha.....I mean, landlady here says it’s the window...because I left the window open. I don’t want to live here. This is a bad place. It just looks pretty.’ She said all this in just one breath. Jason was gaping at her trying to decode everything she said as she gasped for air.

Then finally, he composed himself and spoke after what seemed like a century. ‘Listen to me Judy. I know it is unnerving to come home to this but trust me it’s all fine. Look at this place. It must have been an animal, a cat or something. Just calm down, ok? Be grateful that nothing is stolen or lost. Drink some water. Here. And I’ll stay here with you. It’ll be fine. I’m with you.’

As he started cleaning up the mess, Judy saw him casting sharp glances at her to make sure she was fine. Maybe she was over reacting. Maybe this was just an animal. But the landlady had spoken of some evil. What was she talking about? Why was she so stupid? Why did she hurry into this? She cursed herself loudly.

And then, suddenly before she knew it, the featherbed absorbed her lightly and she slept like a baby.

***

She woke up groggily the next morning, with Jason on one side. She didn’t remember elephant legs leaving the previous night but she had a long day ahead, so she shrugged off the memories of last night and got ready for office.

Jason left with her and they both made sure that the window was tightly shut.

***

It had been one month since she had moved into her new house. The first few days, she had been petrified but then it almost became a way of life.

She would come home, to find her food to be eaten or splattered on the walls and carpets. Who was this animal who was wolfing down everything? She had never tried searching for it though. On the other hand, her house was small. Nothing would go unnoticed. There was nothing in the house when she was there. It just magically appeared from thin air whenever she left for long hours. Sometimes, she decided to leave the house for 15-20 minutes and loudly exclaimed that she would be back in about 4-5 hours. It would always be the same scene. There would be no one there and the food would have been ravaged.

***

‘You have a soaring temperature Judy. Please listen to me this time. Just stay at home for a while. Rest a little. You seem stressed. I’ll come to meet you every day after work. But I don’t want you breaking your back over anything. You get me? Now, give me a hug,’ said Jason tenderly.

They spent a little more time, whispering sweet nothings to each other when Judy slipped into a dreamless nap.

Jason left her there, snoring slightly on her beautiful featherbed.

***

It had now been four days since she got out of her house. Her sunken cheeks and pale complexion showed that she had been suffering from a bout of flu but since her temperature refused to drop, Jason decided to take her to a doctor.

She had been lying down watching a movie and seeing some old pictures on her digicam when Jason entered the house.

‘We have to go to the doctor, Judy. Come on, get dressed fast. We have an appointment for 6 o’ clock today. You have half an hour. Hurry,’ he exclaimed.

‘But Jason, it’s just flu. I’ll be fine in a few days,’ she called out.

But there was no convincing him when he decided on something. So they got ready to leave. She made sure the window was shut tight and casually threw her digicam on the featherbed.

***

‘Not again,’ she thought. But didn’t express anything aloud. She had no time to worry about the same thing over and over again and was too sick to stress about it too.

Then something caught her eye. She remembered flinging the camera onto the bed. It wasn’t there anymore. It had vanished.

With a burst of sudden energy, she started searching for it. This had to be it. If someone was stealing her things, it was the end of it. She was going to find out.

‘Will you just stop being so paranoid? You’re sick God dammit, Judy. This is just pissing off now. You sit right there. Don’t move. You must’ve kept it somewhere else. I’ll look for it,’ cried Jason.

Before he could have completed the sentence, she found it lying in one corner of her studio apartment. It lay there amidst the few grains of brown rice that were carelessly dropped on the marble floor.

There was ketchup smeared on it. And embedded in it was an unmistakable finger print.

Her heart raced as she went to pick it up. She didn’t speak a word.

‘Give me that camera right now.’ Jason pulled it from her and out of her reach.

He took it and switched it on to see if it was working. She snatched it back from him and went to the last recorded section.

The earth beneath her feet slid as she looked upon an unknown, old man. His naked head and thick white mustache were both bestrewed with the ketchup. Her hands shivered as she clicked on the play button.

There was a deep moan and the man burst into horrid cries. He licked the ketchup off his hands and belched loudly. It was the worst sight ever. His eyes were a pale grey and his fingernails had black filth stuffed into them. He pressed a grubby finger on the camera screen and spoke, ‘Why did you torture me? Why? What have I done to you? You didn’t let me eat for four days. I was hungry. I needed food. Why didn’t you go out of the house? I hate you and I curse you. You don’t know me but I know you. I live here; I’ve been here for a month.’ Suddenly, his moans turned into loud, screeching laughter.

‘You don’t know this. You would’ve never known. But, I live under your bed.’

They both froze there. Nobody spoke or moved for the longest time. Nobody even tried to. They were both cold to the bone, the chills spreading steadily and swiftly through them. Instantly, everything made more sense. The open window, the evil that her predecessor had swept away, the food...everything fell into place. What sort of psycho was this?

Legs shivering, Judy moved towards her bed. She had never looked hard enough to find something or someone. Every time she came home from a long day, she would just be too scared to go back and look hard for the cause. She was just always too scared. She now knelt near her favourite part of the house, her featherbed and lifted the bed sheet to peak underneath.

As she ducked, she prayed there was no one and then in a heartbeat, a strong grubby hand came pelting out to grab her wrist.

She screamed.

The Xanadu

He looked at his reflection in the mirror; the whites of his eyes were interspersed with ruddy blotches. His expression was grim and his forehead creased. All he could feel was pain cutting through every nerve of his body. Helplessness surged through him and he wanted to shout out to the heavens but he knew that there was no one there to listen to him, no one to pay heed to his pleas, no one to comfort him. His eyeballs then slid down to his breast pocket. There were chips flowing out of it. He was standing in the villa of The Xanadu, a noted casino in Las Vegas. He looked back at his face in the mirror and then it all happened in a second. He now lay on the floor in the midst of his own blood and bone chips, the revolver next to his right hand. Pieces of his brain splattered on the velvety walls of the villa but he lay there motionless. His eyes were still moist, still aggrieved...very still.

 James Scott walked through the sweltering heat. His brow furrowed and his lips dry. The sun was right at its zenith and pouring its heat onto his body. Every step that he took was a struggle to survive. His suit was worn to shreds and his head stooped. He wanted water. Water was all he needed. He looked around. At first his vision was a complete blur but then it started becoming clear. In bold letters he saw the words sprawled across a colourful board. He was at the steps of the biggest casino in the world. He was outside ‘The Xanadu’, a place that people visited from all the parts of the world. He was in Las Vegas. He peeked into his pocket and saw his last two bundles of hundred dollar bills and he strode in.

Curious faces met his eyes. They ogled at him and his condition. He now looked at them all, his posture suddenly upright and his glare fierce. He stood there, towering above the others. His perfectly chiseled features contorted as he walked towards the elevator. His persona emanated a sense of fear amongst those around him. He ignored their curious glances and stepped onto the polished wooden floors of the casino. The gamblers were at their tables. They had finished making their weary business deals, binged on the sumptuous seven course meals in the gourmet rooms, taken their wives to the shows or struck them with dollar chips at the roulette wheel. They were all out of traffic.

Money in hand, he stood in the primary line of the table with the three cards. He glanced at a few people around, discerning their capabilities. He saw two men, rather boys jesting at the table. They seemed queer but James discovered his sudden liking for them. His impulsive nerves took over him as he called out,  ‘How about you two guys coming in with me?’, motioning towards Tim and his friend, Sean. ‘I’ll put the top limit and bet my cash in each chair. 90 units mine, 10 units yours.’

This meant that with the two thousand limit, James would be betting six thousand on each hand.

‘Are you crazy?’ Tim said. ‘You can go to hell.’

‘Just sit there’, I’ll give you ten percent of everything your chair wins.’, Smirked James

At that moment Sean came forward and said, ‘I’ll sit in the chair.’

‘You get ten percent,’ James scowled. And it began.

Tim stayed to watch. He neither had Sean’s courage nor James’ money. So he preferred to be out of harm’s way. Nonetheless, he felt slightly proud for being chosen by James from this huge herd. Keeping all these thoughts aside he concentrated on the game.

James’ cards kissed the green felt of the table as his eyes gazed at their backsides. It was almost like he had this unexplained, alien, x-ray vision. He now scanned the four ergonomic slot chairs placed around the lush green felt table. A voluptuous girl with auburn hair made her way onto the vacant chair. As she picked up her cards, he searched for some hints but didn’t get any. For a split second, he saw the twinkle in her eye brighten a little. If only he wasn’t looking at her so intently, he would never have noticed. There were no creases on her forehead and no trace of panic. She bet a good 2500 dollars on this first hand. That was impressive, he thought. Everyone had now made a bet.

His eyes darted towards the chair to her right, there was Sean sitting there. He looked extremely happy with his cards, the fool. He struggled to keep his poker face, but the smirk kept creeping in.

He picked up his cards. He had three natural invincible aces. “Woah, that’s one hot hand,” he chuckled. With a confident stroke, he threw the cards, face-up for everyone to envy. He had won the first hand, and HOW! He noticed Sean looking at his own three cards, they made such a pitiful sight in front of James’. He had a King, a Queen and Jack. He threw his cards too on the green felt, trying to emulate James’ style but with a touch of frustration.

But something was happening here. James felt his vision starting to blur now. He went into some sort of a trance. His heart beat increased and drops of perspiration meandered down his temples and down to his cheeks and neck. He was running. He had escaped them. Had to get away from them. They would kill him. The street was dingy and his spotless suit was in place. His revolver was tucked behind his back but right now wasn’t the time to fight. It was time to run. He remembered clearly, the face of the man he killed. The squat old fool thought he had changed him into one of his men. The look of angst on his victim struck him like a whip. The adrenaline rushed through his veins once again and he ran.

With a jerk he got back to senses. He noticed confused eyes staring at him. Some, looked like they were about to mock him. Wiping the sweat from his brows, he concentrated on his game.

The second hand lay there next to his pile of black and gold chips. They made a magnificent sight. Picking it up, he felt his jaw drop a little. Was this some joke? How was he getting these cards. There was something utterly wrong with the permutations and combinations. He stared down at his second set of invincible aces.

He threw them down face-up for the second time. Calmly and without any emotion James hit eighteen rounds of hands. By the ninth round, word had spread about his absolutely brilliant and unbelievable  fortune. The excitement was building as the crowd started pressing together to get a better view.

The air seemed stiff with tension and suddenly he felt a pair of hands close against his neck. Yet there was no one around. The trance took him once again. His body muscles flexed and his heart throbbed.

One minute he was welcoming the old squat fool into his chambers and then suddenly he took the pistol and shot him right in the forehead.

He was concentrating on escaping but his mind kept racing back to his victim.

The man had once called him his child and beaten him at the same time. His sadistic smile used to give him the chills. He was wicked deep within. He had slain so many people with that satanic smirk. He had butchered his only friends and given him their fingers, liver and kidneys to keep as friends. The insensitive, cruel old Son-of-a-bitch that he was. They had snatched him away from his father. Where was his father now? He wanted to reach him desperately.

He had no memory of his father except that of a man immaculately dressed, with green eyes and a wry smile. He had been taken hostage so that his father would pledge his alliance to these beasts.

He hated them. They tried to get him to their side, muddled his mind. But he was smart, at least smarter than they thought him to be and he had taken his revenge.

He was back in the streets of New York. He was running and he was running hard. Where should he go? Which way? His pulse grew by the second. Then, his sides started hurting with the effort but... he ran.

This time, Sean did not stop himself.

‘What’s the problem mate? I heard you mumble something about them not getting you here in Vegas. What’s up?’ asked Sean.

People were now blatantly staring at him.

James ignored his question and picked up his newly dealt hand. Sean had stacks of gold hundred dollar chips in front of him. The croupier counted out chips against each of their chair numbers. It was over fifty thousand dollars. James had made a record in The Xanadu that night.

His mind raced. He looked around and saw people glaring in his direction. He had had enough. He got up from the elegant oval table and walked back. Every step he took seemed very heavy. He weight was wearing him down. Suddenly, he felt there was someone following him and he turned back with a start. It was Sean. He let out a sigh and looked at him in a questioning way.

‘I think you should go up for a nap. You look like you’re gonna black out right here.’ said Sean.

‘Yeah. Thanks! I think I’ll do just that.’

He turned back and tried to make his way towards his room. Sean was concerned. He wondered whether he should go help him get to his room, but he resisted the temptation. It was better to stay out. James was a strange man. It wouldn’t be wise to go looking for trouble.

James walked towards the elevator. He waited there but it took too long. As he made his way towards the stairways, he heard muffled footsteps right behind him. He turned with the revolver in his sweaty hand. ‘Who is there?’, he called out. There was no one. His heart beat increased and his pupils dilated. From the corner of his eye he saw a shadow creep in right behind him and his muscles flexed and he bounded up.

His legs shivered with the effort as he sprinted. He could feel them right behind him. They were right there. He knew it. He took four steps at a time and his hands gathered to fists. He reached the fifteenth floor and darted towards his room. He would be safe there. His heart came in his mouth as he accidentally dropped the key to his room. Oh great GODS! Why is this happening!!? Those few minutes almost felt like a good long hour before he finally swiped the door open. He entered hurriedly and slammed the door shut. He sighed heavily and locked it. They couldn’t enter the room. He was safe. Whew! That was close.

He then looked at his reflection in the mirror; the whites of his eyes were interspersed with ruddy blotches. His expression was grim and his forehead creased. All he could feel was pain cutting through every nerve of his body. Helplessness surged through him and he wanted to shout out to the heavens but he knew that there was no one there to listen to him, no one to pay heed to his pleas, no one to comfort him. His eyeballs then slid down to his breast pocket. There were chips flowing out of it. He was standing in the villa of The Xanadu, a noted casino in Las Vegas.

On his right was a man in a perfectly fitting Armani suit sitting on the soft, fluffy, Victorian couch. The had green eyes and a wry smile. They looked at each other and James froze. There was no more running. This was the end.

‘I really like playing hide and seek with ya, James. I would really do, y’know. But, I don’t like dancing to ya tunes, buddy.’ he said without a hint of aggression.

‘But ya know the rules James.’ he screamed his lungs out.

‘Did ya think this game would never end?’ he sighed, softly.

‘I’m sorry.’ Cried James, searching for words. This man seemed so familiar but why couldn’t he place him?

The man with the revolver gave a funny laugh. It was almost like a giggle. If he didn’t have the gun in his hand, you would misunderstand him to be a rather foolish baboon.

‘Never ever mess with the Guilianos. Never James. Do ya hear me? Betrayal is the seed for contempt. Why do ya think I let ya go with them. These Guilianos are dangerous people, James. And when they hate ya, its the end..that’s the reason why I’ve come for ya after so many years, my boy.’ He whispered.

‘All die those who betray Guiliano.’ He spat with a sudden fury.

James felt the earth below him shifting as he recognized the man in the immaculate suit, green eyes and wry smile. They were the same green eyes. The same wry smile.

‘FATHER!’, gasped James his voice chirping with relief.

‘I just wanted to see if ya recognized me James. I’ve come to take you away. Don’t ya worry.’ He said, as his voice drowned in emotion.

He had missed his son. He wanted to hug him close to his heart. It was going to be nearly thirteen years since he gave him a bear hug. He took a step towards him and then it all happened in the tenth part of a second.

Before he knew it, he was tripping over the royal blue carpets and hit his head on the bedpost. His fingers tightened on the trigger as he tried to regain his balance and it fired loudly.

He was sprawled there, motionless, overlooking the scene – aghast.

James now lay on the floor in the midst of his own blood and bone chips, the revolver next to his right hand. Pieces of his brain splattered on the velvety walls of the villa but he lay there motionless. His eyes were still moist, still aggrieved...very still.