His Innocence…

 

BOOM!! CRASH!!

The sound of slamming doors erupted as soon as I find myself tasting the concrete pavement and blood in my mouth. Left cheek now fairly swollen, my left palm caressed it to ease the bubbling ache that started to build up around the swell.

“Get out!! Get out of my way!!” he bellowed, slamming the window shut as well.

I did not risked suffering another assault just to get chased away like some vermin, but I had no intention of suffering his insults any longer. All I asked for was some unwanted glass bottles or tin cans. For my begging rounds. What use could that overfed cook can do with them? He won’t be able to get a decent price with an attitude such as his.

How?? How…in the world things get to this??

The pain hadn’t subsided at all, and I could still feel his knuckle up my cheek, his tightly clutched fingers still clearly etched upon it. Well life’s tough these days; everybody’s worked up and tensed. Richmond’s might have more leftovers tonight. Whole damn restaurant was fully booked for some feast. Picking up my thin frame off the ground, I started making my way to my new destination.

Better luck this time, I hope.

Better luck. Of course I’ve seen better days, had lived in better times. For what’s left nobody could have known that I used to earn big bucks. Probably not as much as the corporate dudes do, but I was doing well, until…

…she came.

*********************************************************************

First it was the scent of Autumn Crocus. Perfume?? Deodorant??

“There!! You’re another day late!! I needed you to get your report done last week,” half-frowning half-smiling, I took the folder out of her hands.

She was trying to say something, but I didn’t afford her the leisure to put her thoughts into words. Swiftly turning around, I got back to my marking.

“Now thanks to you, I’ve lost another weekend to make up for loss time that YOU caused. Did you make sure to inform Miss Heathing about your late submission?” Sensing no reply, I turned around.

She was there, just standing like a statue, immobile. As if some words were caught up in her throat, she fluttered.

“Maybe…I…I…make it up…to you??”

Then she looked up, hopefully. Wasn’t entirely sure what she meant, I put on a puzzled look, intending her to explain more.

“Here,” in the swiftest manner possible she thrust an enveloped into my hands and fled like the bird fleeing from it’s hunter. Gently un-creasing the badly crumpled enveloped, I removed it’s content and sought to quench my curiosity as to why she was acting in such a manner….

*********************************************************************

“You’re early, dude,” a voice shot from the front. It was Edgar’s bartender. “Way too early…feast ain’t over yet,” he was leaning against the lamp post, trying to lit up the cheap cigarette stuffed between his lips.

“No, I don’t smoke,” I declined him as courteously as possible as he offered me a smoke. “Thanks for the gesture,” I added, trying not to make him feel offended.

If anything, he is always a life-saver that I cannot afford to offend. Word goes around that he was once in a pretty bad pinch himself, until they found out that he has a way with liquor and cocktails which got him employed, plucking him out of obscurity and poverty.

“Rough night?” he asked, while puffing out the smoke towards the streets. Several teenage girls were chuckling and giggling as they make their way to the clubs across the streets. Mini skirts and showing lots of cleavage. Free show.

But it is all too common for me. I’ve seen silly teenagers wasting their lives doing drugs and losing their virginity in the alleys. Some even had the guts to ask me if I wanted to get high and join in the orgy. Too high and drunk to see that I’m broken.

“Nothing other than the usual,” I replied. “…apart from a squabble with the Porky over the 78th street,” I explained the bruise on my cheek. “Owh, that miser? Once a few of my homies roughed him up just because he has a god-forbid-foul-mouth.”

"That’s life when you’re down in the gutter; not gonna complain,” I tuck both hands into my pocket, and started to look for stars amidst the city lights. I could barely see the moon, less so any stars.

“I can’t get you anything now, but what they have in excess in every party…is booze,” putting on an evil grin, he gave me a pat in the arm and walked back into the bar.

So much for being the gentleman. Now I’m living on scraps.

Returning my gaze to the sky, I remembered that fateful night. The night where all changed. I’ve always known I would have to disappoint her as some point, but certainly the circumstances could have been better…

*********************************************************************

Walking down the hallway, I was busy arranging the words in my head. Certainly I didn’t see this coming, not in a million years. She’s a brilliant student. But lately she seemed to be troubled. Troubled by what, nobody actually knows. Made a few home visitation and the institution found out that she lives with her grandmother. The only living relative she has left is almost never at home, out in the world striving to earn a living for the both of them. A fate so cruel and unfair.

Brilliant, but troubled.

She never had many friends, but I noticed there’s this guy who’s always with her. Walkers?? Or is it Hawkins?? Another problem child, but he wasn’t mine to lose sleep over. My clientele, as of that moment, was her.

How in the world things get to this?

I quickened my pace, as I made my way to the laboratory. Then I wondered, why the laboratory? Institution grounds are automatically restricted area after hours. The guards could appear at any moment when they’re on their rounds.

I better get this over with ASAP and get her out, or she’ll land into trouble. Again.

It was then I caught scent of something. Flower-ish. Stopping in my steps, I turned around, trying to look for the source of it. It was leading to the laboratories, but the stench was stronger here in the hallway. There’s no mistaking it, it’s the scent of Autumn Crocus.

“Hello?? Who’s there??”

Hello…Hello…Hello…Hello…

There was nothing else but the resounding echoes.Not wanting to miss my appointment, I ignored the warning sounding in my head. Something felt out of place. Soon I was at the laboratory, but I was not prepared for what happened next. A nightmare.

There was nobody there. Flicking on the switch, all I saw was the room was bare, apart from a small box resting on the table. Looking around for signs of human presence, I noticed again the lingering scent of her perfume.

She was definitely here.

Curiosity ALWAYS kills the cat. Upon confirming that I’m the sole living being in the room, I moved towards the box, examining it in my hands. Giving it a shake it produced thumping sounds; something was inside it. I opened and drew out its contents. The horror that came along the realization of what was in my hands froze me in my place…

*********************************************************************

BOOM!! CRASH!!

“Sorry dude, this is all I can get…for now,” resurfacing from the dark abyss, he shoved a half-bottle of Jack Daniels into my arms, pulling me back into the present. In his eyes were genuine look of sympathy. Sympathetic that he couldn’t be of more help to me as he usually was. I’m having none of that so I took hold of his arm and gave him my usually shake to indicate my gratitude. Without a word I turned around and started to walk away.

From afar, I heard him shouting, “Come back again later!!”. Perhaps he was expecting for some form of acknowledgement, but I didn’t offer him any. Hopefully he doesn’t interpret that as me being offended; he shouldn’t be, but I just didn’t feel like talking.

My stride was interrupted by the sound of the door re-opening. But I heard no sound of the door crashing. Not him. He’s too good a guy for that. But I’ll never forget the sound of the…

*********************************************************************

BOOM!! CRASH!! FREEZE!!

It was so fast that I cannot explain what was happening. Within seconds my hands were behind me, face pressed onto the carpet, multiple limbs pressuring on my body. Before I could even shout, a firm voice was reciting my rights.

“…right to remain silent. Anything you say will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney…”

I couldn’t remember whether the voice ever finished reciting my rights, but the next blow on my head landed me in the hospital for the whole week. I wasn’t allowed any visitors. By the time I was no longer disoriented, my lawyer informed me that they were going to charge me in court.

For possessing pornographic materials involving minors.

They arrested me with a box containing undergarments. Children undergarments. A search in my apartment further yielded a truckload of child pornographic materials. They told me that I’ve committed crimes that I know I have never committed. In the end all I knew was that I was framed, and I maintained that stance in court.

What followed next was a nation-wide scandal. Teaching license revoked. Criminal breach of trust. I could never work with kids or children ever again. My face and name appeared in the major cable news and throughout the mass media. Soon the verdict was passed, me jailed, and gradually people began to forget that I had ever existed…

*********************************************************************

Now back to my favourite spot in the garden, I rested my body horizontally facing the sky. Sip by sip I drained the whiskey from it’s casing, just as how my life was striped bare from it’s former glory.

Of course I never explained why I ended up with a box of dubious contents at the school laboratory at such a time. To divulge more than what the investigators have theorized will tear her life in shreds. I wouldn’t do that. They wouldn’t have believed me either. I have always known I’m innocent, and withholding some truth seems to yield me some sense of honour that the juridical system of this country had deprived me of.

I gave the empty sky a smirk as an act of defiance, cushioning one arm beneath my next, another hugging the nearly empty whiskey bottle. In nights like these, Johnny Walker’s my only true friend. Shutting my eyes, thrusting myself back into the days where I had seen better days…Suddenly I jerked my eyes open.

It is the scent of Autumn Crocus.

Frantically looking around trying to identify the owner of the scent, my eyes caught the sight of a silhouette approximately 20 feet north-west from my bench. Screwing my eyes into focus, I was trying to identify my uninvited guest. Then a sudden epiphany rushed into my head, clearing it from all the alcohol I’ve just abusively consumed in my depression. Now finally seeing the whole picture, I uttered with all the resentment I can muster…

“YOU!!”

_______________________________________________________________________________

Copyright © 2013. All rights reserved. None of the works on this blog may be reproduced in any form without prior written permission by the blog owners.

Converging Points & Parallel Lives

“I need to go,” he uttered abruptly. Upon uncovering the duvet over his thighs and legs, he swiftly reached for the attire scattered all across the room, piece by piece, like patches of breadcrumb trail starting from the door, leading right towards the queen-size bed. As for her, she was surprisingly…”reserved”… for a composition such as her.

She was still lying sideways underneath the warm provided by the duvet, facing inside the bed. But she wasn’t pretending to be asleep; she wasn’t even hiding her eyes, hers toes rubbing against each other to generate extra heat to counter the air-conditioning.

It really took him some effort trying to put his lower limbs back through his slacks while recovering from a serious hangover. It was then his palm ran into his black leather Dunhill wallet. Then he remembered…his duty.

OR PERHAPS OBLIGATION WOULD BE MORE APPROPRIATE??

Within seconds he swiftly scrambled out several hundred-notes before realising that the amount could be a little “insulting” to the splendid night he has had so far. Withdrawing his hand and at the same time taking a quick glance into his wallet, he took out a few more notes and folded them in two.

“There, for…tonight,” his cheeks were burning red, but he wasn’t sure if she could see them in the dimmed room. This time she was no longer indifferent; she held the blanket over her chest with her left while lowering down her right thigh to straighten herself up. Simultaneously, she revealed her smooth, silky shoulders and thighs. Those movements of hers were so agile, yet at the same time erotic and sensual.

His cheeks were burning hot again, and quickly turned them away from that seducing sight, but there was no slowing down the battering heart of his. Sensing her eyes falling on his back, he continued to re-dress himself, now buttoning his blouse.

“Will you be back?”, she broke the suffocating silence that was gradually building up within that space, as if the air was siphoned out and his muscles tensed up. It was getting hard for him to relax.

Sensing no reply, she probed further timidly, “Was I no good?”

“Err…no, no…it’s just me…" he said, half-turning –half-buttoning his last button. After completing a seemingly deadly quest before her presence, he muttered a quick prayer under his breath, and turned around to face her after feeling more confident. And indeed, he no longer flustered resting his eyes on her again, even though she was staring right back into his eyes.

Suddenly he looked down and examined himself frantically, checking whether he buttoned wrongly or wore his shirt inside out. He stopped only after he heard her chuckled. “Sorry…it’s not…you’ve done nothing wrong…” she said half-chuckled, half-stuttered. Instantly he loosen up, and laughed at his own over-anxiety.

“Pardon my rudeness, You’re…different,” continuing where she stopped, she was staring at him again. Realising that she was observing him again, he stared back into hers, intending to put on some fight.

“Really? Well…I’ll admit I’m not much of a GOOD sleeper,” he jokingly retorted.

“Yeah, you probably do better sleeping on the crouch than in the bed…”

Then she suddenly stood up, baring everything without the slightest hint of embarrassment, walked towards him so near that he could smell the lingering remnants of the perfume she had on her.

GOD CONDEMNED ADAM THE DAY HE MADE EVE.

After several seconds of silence, both still staring into each other, she took his next tie from his palms. “Would you allow me the honour?” she whispered. Putting almost no resistance or whatsoever, he puffed his chest out, looking upwards into the ceiling, and relaxed both his arms.

With a gentle smile she threw the necktie around his rather stiffed neck,resting both ends on his broad but not-so-muscular chest. With a bit of exercise, she thought to herself, he could turn out to be quite the hulk.

“You’re…curious, pretty much unlike the others…”

“How are the rest like?”

While intersecting both ends, she remarked, “They come…to wash away the loneliness inside them,” then pushing the wide end through the loop right at his next, before continuing, “I simply provide the tools for them…”

“Does that include this?”, curiously he asked, his eyes looking downwards indicating his tie.

Smirking, while making a loop with one end embalming the bulging knot, this time she whispered into his ears, “This is on the house.” Now curious about what she has to say, he pressed on, “Me?”

“You??” She sounded a bit surprised by his sudden display of courage. His eyes were looking at hers with intensity, so different from the ones that were repeatingly avoiding hers earlier. She knew instantly, and instinctively, that she was right about him. Meek, even weak on the outside. But once you start uncovering his defences bit by bit, there are more than meets the eye.

“You…” she paused. Her hands still working on the tie. Now pushing the wider end of the tie through the back of the knot, she forced the end through the knot.

“…you didn’t come to rid the loneliness. You enjoy them; you like your solitude…yes?” She threw him a cheeky smile, so full of confidence and faith as if she had known him inside out. His stunned expression only served to confirm what was just a strong suspicion.

With her left she forced the tie in its vertical position, while with her right she adjusts the length of the tie as the finishing touch. As she rested both palms on his chest, she cheerfully announced that the Windsor is ready for its task.

Turning around to face the mirror, his eyebrows were raised in appreciation and in awe on how well she had made the knot, with her first try, on a man she had hardly known at all.

VERY IMPRESSIVE INDEED.

“You, mister…you came to learn. You came to sate your curiosity…well, partly to learn about us, or me, so to speak. But you’re…queer…Most men are curious, but they lose interest after the transaction ended.” Realising that it was rude to show his back to her, he turned to face her. She was sitting on the edge of the bed, legs crossed, now with a bath robe wrapped around her, incompletely. “But above all, you came to learn about yourself.”

“Really? You are not hoping that I would believe every word…do you??” Putting on a doubtful facade, he knew he was just playing self-denial, trying to put her off, for everything she said was right on the spot.

Unexpectedly she stood up. “I’m hoping that you would stay for the night.” Sensing deliberation in his silent reply, she took a step further nearer to him, whispering into his ear, “I can make it worthwhile.”

He wondered why he rushed putting his clothes back on, wanting to leave so desperately. Now regretting his hastiness, a thousand thoughts screened through his mind. Of course, he could “graciously” accept her generous offer; after all the room has been paid for. But he was already looking past what was in that very room. Reviewing and revisiting every word and action she had made or said, he was trying to comprehend what she is trying to do, and what her intentions were. If magic creatures exist, she would be the Siren or the Mermaid, singing him into the abyss, signalling the death of his rationale.

OR MAYBE SHE ALREADY HAD ME DONE IN?

Reluctantly, he replied, “Thanks for the offer, but…”

“How disappointing, so it’s a no??”

“Not exactly…”

“Then?”

“A counter-proposal…”

He took her hands in his, just like a gentleman assisting and ushering a lady into a exquisite party.

“I proposed that we have a cup of tea…at the L’Engouement…and before you ask why, yes, I do need a rest…”

A heartily laughter resonated throughout the room. She didn’t say a word, but he could read the atmosphere, and her expression were full of vigour, the youthfulness that she had prematurely lost now reverberating once again, as if time was turned backwards and she’s young in spirit once again, just as if should be at her age.

It wasn’t long before she ditched the bathrobe and put on her dress. She took the time and liberty to reapply the Victoria’s Secret lipsticks and Lancôme mascaras, even though the occasion is only at a cafe.

“Shall we?” He offered her his arm, and she happily intersected hers with his. Both of them walked out arm in arm, leaving behind what was once a transaction, slowly working their way into a real, proper connection.

_______________________________________________________________________________

Copyright © 2013. All rights reserved. None of the works on this blog may be reproduced in any form without prior written permission by the blog owners.

Engagements of the Rain

It was a day unlike any other. And yet, it started out with the usual monotonous voice of Professor Takada reciting verses out of Soseki's debut novel. A quick glance around confirmed that none of the students in class paid much heed to the lecture taking place. The finals were months away and there was a huge discussion going round in class about the new Mr. Campus and his sordid love affairs. The giggling and gasps of the girls 4 rows below echoed throughout the 300-seater hall. I heaved a sigh of relief as the bell interrupted their incessant chatter to signal the end of the students' mandatory obligations each Friday. As usual, I made sure I was the first to leave the unbearable academic atmosphere.

In the midst of Spring, Tokyo was unusually cold this year. The sudden downpour earlier this afternoon had started to subside as I grabbed hold of the edges of my pink jacket and pulled them closer to my chest. The fine hairs on my naked legs stood erect as the breeze swept past. Tights were never fashionable in this part of town and I chose to blend in with the majority. I continued walking down the familiar streets to the soothing sounds of the bells on my anklet that jingled with each step of my right leg. One can imagine the shock that followed when I felt something cold and clammy grabbing hold of them, instantaneously silencing the melodic trance I was in.

It was a hand. A hand of a man whose grip tightened slowly as I tried to shrug him off. A closer look revealed a man in his late 30s, a slightly hooked nose, with the arms of an athlete despite his shorter than average build. He had aged rather gracefully, and considered by any standards, extremely handsome. His clothes, his shoes, and the brown and blond tinted hair of his were soaked to the bone. He must have been under the rain for hours at least, judging by the state of his shivering body. Why in the world was he lying on the ground? No. I shook my head. This wasn't the time for questions.

"Help me..."

Don't ask me why I ever felt the urge to take him in, or how dangerous it was to lead a stranger back home. After all, albeit the incredibly high levels of general public safety, murder rates remained high and rampant. The police might have been the most viable option and yet there was something about him that made me disregard all thoughts and rationale when I held on to his arms indicating a silent consent. And be it fate or coincidence, we were just a 5 minute walk away from home. Yet his lagging steps made it seem like forever.

No sooner had I pushed open the heavy wooden door, that he clambered towards the sofa and slumped on to it with a deep sigh. A customary 'thank you' would have been nice but he chose to remain silent as he gazed at the ceiling deep in thought, with one arm behind his head and the other rested ever so gently on his heaving chest.

I handed him a towel I scavenged from the back of my closet. It was unwashed. But I had no reason to tell him that. I was not plagued with disease, nor have I ever placed high regard for laundry on my list of priorities. He accepted the towel hesitantly and as he reached out his right hand to grab hold of it, I noticed something on his finger.

"Nice ring you have there."

He took a casual glance at the ring on his pinky finger and proceeded to twist them free. In a flash of a second, he tossed it towards my chest. I was never good at catch, but this time my hands reached out like lightning and grabbed hold of it milliseconds before it bounced back onto the floor.

"Take it."

Angel wings, two centimeters wide. Pure silver. And it fit perfectly on my slightly chubby fingers.

"Thanks."

I never hesitated the acceptance of items I was fond of, and it didn't occur to me that the ring he wore might have meant something special to him. In an attempt to break the silence, I cleared my throat and spoke up.

"I never got your name." 

Droplets of fresh rain water fell onto my skin in his furious attempt to dry out the shoulder length hair with the aid of my pink towel.

"My names' of no importance to you."

"That's ridiculous! How then, do you expect me to address you?"

"You'll have your ways kid."

With a flick of his wrist, he tossed the towel aside and stretched his body out onto the sofa. And in that exact moment in time, the mesmerising sight of his fingers led me to blurt out the words

"You play the piano then?"

The smirk on his paper thin lips answered my question without hesitation. He stood up ever so slowly and glided his fingers across the keys silently before he settled down in front of the Yamaha. I grinned. I was sick and tired of playing for an audience of one. Now's the chance.

"Do you take requests? Can you play me Crazy by Patsy Cline?"

He shook his head, with no sign of interest.

"Never heard of it."

"Fine. Let's hear your version of Autumn Leaves then."

"That's child's play."

And he spent the night serenading the long empty room, tune after tune of my favourite melancholic jazz until I finally fell asleep on the blue carpeted floor.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He remained ever so silent on the day he decided to invite me for a walk at the park nearby. I'd never learnt his name, and by custom, I tugged on the sleeve of his shirt to draw attention. His furrowed brows displayed signs of annoyance as he continued to walk while I struggled to keep up with his steadily increasing pace.

I puffed and panted when he finally decided on a spot under a tree to pause and pull out the all-too-familiar box of 12s. With a flick of light, he found his haven as he settled down to stretch his legs. I collapsed onto the grass next to him, desperately gasping for air. It was so quiet. So quiet that the only sound you could hear was that of my heavy breathing. I hated the silence. I hated the fact that he chose to ignore me whenever he felt like it. It was as if I merely existed in his life at certain times when he chose to have me there. I hated it. I tugged on his sleeve again and again. Again and again when finally the intensity caused him to drop the cigarette clasped between his fingers.

"That's enough, kid."

He picked up and proceeded to take one last puff from his almost burnt out cigarette, and lifted his face towards the increasingly cloudy sky. The exhaled smoke made perfect circles that vanished into thin air in exactly...5 seconds. He shut his eyes, sighed and turned his head towards me. I could recall every part of that moment with total vividness. I could recall the way he lifted my chin ever so slightly with that coarse, sunburned hand of his, and with an intensity I could hardly ever forget, pressed his lips against mine while the falling leaves of the cherry blossom tree danced around us.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I never figured out why he was out in the rain the day I found him, nor did I know anything of his past and the reasons why he was slumped on my baby grand with the ends of his favourite cigarettes scattered on the floor each morning when I woke up. He had previously declared his intention to impose on my kindness indefinitely when he returned religiously to my studio at the edge of Roppongi Hills each night. Our routine remained military in the coming months. I draped his dark blood red coat over his shoulders, refrigerated his favourite green tea, and left for school. My long day continued each time I inserted the keys and turned the lock to find the ridiculously messy apartment empty, save for his standard note of absence.

[Don't wait up for me.]

I gave the edge of my lip a little bite. It was tough holding back the tears. He did not understand. At least, that was how it seemed to me. The courage I once had, that brave young woman who rescued him from the streets, seemed to vanish from my very soul. The apartment felt a little less lonely when he was around but he was never there when I needed him to be.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I can still distinctly remember the day where I last held on to the sleeve of his bleached white shirt. The lead was crooning to the tunes of Billie Holiday. We were sat on the counter of the Blue Note as we always did on Friday nights. Except this time, he was unusually fixated on the ring he carelessly handed to me not too long ago which I had since placed on my right ring finger. He was no longer distant in his gaze, and there was an unusual warmth emitting from the palm of his hands as he placed them on my cheeks. It wasn't too long before he whispered the dreaded words that I had hoped so hard never to hear from him.

"I think its time."

There were no tears in his eyes, though mine fell unconsciously like the pouring rain outside. The very rain that had brought him to me, was here to claim the one thing that might never have been mine.

"Will you be back?"

My heart, it pounded to the rhythm of the beating drum on the background stage. Please say yes.

"You're good, kid."

His eyes glistened as he stood up to stroke my hair, smiled, turned around swiftly, and walked out the door.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I am a work of fiction, and you, are the love in my imagination.

Copyright © 2013. All rights reserved. None of the works on this blog may be reproduced in any form without prior written permission by the blog owners.