Five, and another one’s still on his filthy hand. Six to eight cans of beer each night, almost a dozen when he brought victory back home, gambling with the money his son had been saving for a better use. James gritted his teeth. The foul smell of the room was more than disturbing. It’s disgusting, really. It made him wonder at what he had done in his previous life, to be trapped and punished with this fat-ass bastard he called father. If not for his mother, James would have left that miserable place and live his own life. A happy one. But here he was. Coming back from work and still had to clean up his father’s mess. Picking up the empty beer cans, his stinking socks, and kicked the oversized shoe under the table with a rage, hoping it was his father’s head instead. Useless scum! Sometimes he wondered on how his mother could end up marrying that pig. The man stirred, his heavy eyes opened as he groaned. James watched silently as he poured the drink into his mouth till the very last drop, wondering what would happen if he put a spoonful of poison in it. Would he die? “Get the light.” He ordered. “Yes, Dad.” He obliged, switching the light on. “Hey, get me another one from the fridge!” He tossed the empty can aside and James caught it before it hit the floor. “There’s no more. You’ve drunk them all.” “Well, go get some, then!” James cursed under his breath. As if he heard none of his father’s words, he left to the other room across the hall, where his mother was resting. How many years had it been? He nearly lost count. Three years, if not mistaken, when his mother was forced to stay for a never ending bed-rest. James stood at the door frame, resting his head on the painted wood. Staring. She looked twenty years older now, her cheekbones were terribly prominent. Her once rosy lips were ashen, her hair seemed lifeless, as well as her bony body. James clutched his own chest, as if he knew she would soon leave. The sickness had no mercy on her. She used to be a strong- independence woman, a great mother… “You’re back. Have you taken your dinner?” she asked suddenly. He turned a little as he wiped a thumb across his eyes before he came near the bed. James sat at the edge of the bed, giving her the best smile he had as she touched his hand. “I ate just now. How do you feel?” She smiled her own weary smile. “Much better.” That’s a lie, James knew. Even the doctor had given up and advised him to bring her home after a long five months at the hospital, said it best to let her spend the time with family. When a doctor told you that, it’s another word to say ‘sorry, your mother’s going to die soon’. He scoffed at that thought, blaming his consciousness for bringing it up again. Lyla came here just now, she brought me some soup and porridge.” “I know mum, she called me.” “Have you talked to her yet?” James couldn’t answer. As much as he loved Lyla and his desire to marry her, he couldn’t find the courage to ask her. Not yet anyway. She’s been too good for him, what could he offer? A small house to live in, or a drunkard asshole as a father in law? Not to mention that his whole pay would always go to his mother’s medications. Just when he was about to talk, his father came, throwing curses. “Are you deaf?! I told you to get me another drink!” Another pair of wrinkles came to his mother’s face as she frowned, struggling to pull herself to sit. James helped her, holding her bony shoulders gently, carefully, as if she would break at his touch. “What is it?” she asked, staring at her husband. The man pointed one round finger at her, and then at his own son. “I don’t know how you’ve been teaching him, such a disrespectful child! Never even hear a word I said, or do as I told him.” “He’s tired, let him rest for awhile.” Not wanting to let his father yell in front of his mother again, James stood and told that man he would get him his precious drinks. He’d do anything to wipe those awful wrinkles from his mother’s face. He took two cans that he hid under the sink before, staring a long moment at them. His eyes darted to the kitchen knifes on the table. Hesitantly, he took the biggest knife out. No. Not the knife. So he took the insecticide instead, opening the bottle. He could just pour the beer into the jug, together with that strong smelled liquid, and then put some rock ice on it. Damn! A shout jerked him from the thought, and he dumped the insecticide away. He kicked the kitchen table so hard he hurt his own foot. After a pause, he went to the living room and handed the beer to his father, who had already sat on the couch, watching soccer game. The man took those drinks without a single thank. I hope you choke on those! * * * She was lovely. Beautiful, smart, and caring. He loved her. So … very much. He watched with a smile as Lyla scooped a spoonful of porridge and feed his mother, all the while telling how wonderful the view outside, that she would take his mother to see the flowers blossoming, feel the fresh air on the mountain. She also told jokes sometimes, anything that would make his mother laugh. It made him laugh too, not at the joke, but more at seeing the way she laugh. Those were the moments when he too, could laugh, forgetting the burdens, the sorrow, the torturing thoughts of being left alone when his mother gone. Unfortunately, those beautiful moments were short-lived. When the front door slammed open, his father came with a woman. This time it was a slightly thin young woman, wearing only a tiny red strapless dress which clung perfectly on her slender figure. James saw a big ring on his father’s left pinky. He guessed that man had won another game for the night. Even with the strikingly cheap perfume the woman was wearing, the liquor smell still stung. James took a deep breath and pushed the wheelchair, taking his mother to her room. Outside, he heard his father was laughing at something. That woman chimed in. Leave them be, son. It’s alright. Better take Lyla back home.” James took his mother’s right hand, and kissed it tenderly. “I’ll be right back.” When he came to the living room, the woman was away from his father, tracing her fingers on the trophies he got during his school time, murmuring words he could not hear. What he saw next was … more like a black point of a poisonous arrow, plunged right into his heart. That man, his father, touched Lyla’s chin with his big thumb. When Lyla stepped back, he laughed, pulling a lock of her hair as he came closer. He had seen the way his father stared at Lyla every time they met, the way his lips quivered when she moved. He watched her blinked, each time. James had tried to ignore it, his father couldn’t be that horribly mad, right? It turned out he was wrong. Touch her again, you’ll be dead!” He stepped between them, his chest heaving. “And you! Get out of here before I torch your flesh-eating mouth!” he pointed a finger at his father’s date. Seeing his murderous gaze, the woman somehow, fled in fright. SLAPPP!!! A painful slap stung James’s face, Lyla gasped behind him. He didn’t flinch though. His rage emanating in the air around him. A flaming rage he had kept in a box for a long, long, long time. This was it. The point of no return. With all might, he broke his father’s jaw with his fist. Surprisingly, the man survived. He could hardly stood straight, but he managed to curse James for the night, before he went to chase his runaway date. That night, he didn’t came back. James waited in the dark for his father to return, but that man never showed up. * * * Lyla’s parents were not a demanding type, or they probably had learnt a lesson from the failure of Lyla’s sister’s marriage. They welcomed him with opened hands, perhaps it was also because they had seen how truthful he was, and that he was capable of giving happiness to their youngest daughter. He was, afterall, already owned a house after his father had been found dead in a motel, bitten by a wild poisonous snake that had accidentally came through the opened window. It had been a week since then, and a day after he asked permission from Lyla’s parents, without her acknowledgement of course. Now came the hardest part. She was wearing a soft purple dress, standing gracefully in the night breeze. The twinkling lights of the city seemed like stars, magically falling for them to see. James braced himself, not wanting to let time pass in another moment of silence. He kneeled before her, lifting the beautiful ring with both hands, as if it weigh a thousand pounds. For a moment, he struggled with the sight before him, mesmerized by her graceful beauty. Incomparable with any others. And then, those words made their own way off his throat. “My dearest Lyla, my one and only love … I’m unworthy without you, I’m so much alive in your embrace. Would you- please marry me?” The answer came in a lilting chime. “YES, YES, of course YES!” He kissed her. A deep tender kiss, warm and full of longing, and he slipped the engagement ring onto her long finger. Lovely. Now it’s time to tell his mom. He could imagine how happy she would be to hear this wonderful news. Everything would be better from now on. He could see the light shining through his path. It’s luminous. Hold on, he told himself. There was something in his pocket. He pulled it out slowly. Ah, now he remembered. It was a receipt from a pet shop, there written ‘one rare African cobra’. “What is it?” asked Lyla as they walked hand in hand. He smiled a happy smile. “It’s nothing. Everything is going to be great, I can tell.” He threw the small piece of paper away, and the wind blew it off to a distance, where a man in a uniform picked it up. His cold expression changed after he read the paper. He took his phone, and made a call. What was the snake you found at the motel? An African Cobra isn’t it? I’m coming, we have a good lead.” He folded the paper and stuck it in his pocket before he drove his car away, the siren’s wailing.
Posted on: Mon, 02 Dec 2013 07:42:01 +0000
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