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1055 Words
I didn't want to make the investigation alone, since it wasn't so easy.
My parents had left for the neighbour's Mr Rahman's house after utensils clattering reached their ears. He was a man with a terrible sense of humor and a hot tempered nature, that any wife or daughter would break their ties if it wasn't for Mrs Selena, his runaway partner who loved him more than the slaps he awarded her.
Jeff was laying on the couch, dozing off with his k****e falling on the table with every minute.
While I sat on my bed, redressed and ready to decide for myself. Who, what and where this house's top floor's magic lay on.
But not alone.
"Jeff"
"I will buy you some chocolates. Come with me"
He was half dozed off, with one eye open and a stinky breath. "Whaa-t?"
"Can you come upstairs with me? I will give you whatever you want"
It took him some time, to get hold of the k****e, get up and open his eyes wholly.
"Since when were you scared to go alone upstairs?"
"Since today"
I didn't want to lie when I was asking for help. No. Begging for help.
"Gosh, come"
I was stunned when he didn't bargain anything and stood up to follow him. He came upstairs, yawning, maybe stuck in a sub conscious mind of helping his sister once in a while without demanding anything back, and sat on the bungee chair.
"Do what you want to. I will be here"
No, I shouldn't be overwhelmed but I was.
Fucking Jeff.
I revolved around the hall, and pretended to look at the books Isha had managed to make a book palace of.
My eyes went to the curtains that didn't move unlike yesterday. Windows locked for sure. I wasn't checking that.
I went to the two bedrooms. One of them had our broken TV, unmoving and dirty still. The three beds there lay amidst the sunlight barging in through the transparent glass panes. Dust and debris hung in the air, with the burden if unused years weighing on it.
I moved to the bathroom next to the pathway to the terrace.
Just echoes. Clean toilet and silence.
The other bedroom said the same stories.
Door to the terrace was double locked, and like a double shot espresso, I felt pleased to conclude it was a cat.
"Jeff"
I played his name with a hum and walked to the hall where he should have been on the beanie when I heard it.
It was a sound from the kitchen.
The fridge opening and closing slightly.
Fucking Jeff man.
All his likely promises to be here until I was done.
The liar.
Who said one can trust their siblings?
Noone.
Mumbling curses under my breath, I made steps to move downstairs when a shadow lurked from the bedroom.
My heart rose when Jeff exited a bedroom with a bunch of CD's in his hand.
"These are those PS2 Cd's we had! Remember when we played Prince of Persia and you lost, and started to cry. Mom threw a stick on my head and we were laugh-
He stopped midway and exchanged confused glances.
"What?"
I couldn't move.
The realisation struck so hard that something was there in our kitchen, while we both stood here, didn't make me want to move.
God bless, it should be a cat.
Then I would be so fine.
"Riya, you look pale"
My throat bobbed and I took deep breaths.
"Jeff-f-f how long have you been-n there-e-e?"
"Few minutes", he raised a brow, "Why? What's up?"
"Something-g-g- is wrong-g-g...downstairs"
"What, why?", he strained his neck to look down at our table and the mess we had on it.
"I heard-d-d- something-g-g-"
"Heard what?", his eyes ran over the CD's in admiration and nostalgia, as he made his way to me, and then downstairs.
I didn't want to go down, until he did.
So I followed closeby.
The kitchen had it whatever it was.
"Come"
Jeff was chuckling, seeing me shudder and hesitate.
"What is wrong, Riya? It must be Mr Benson"
I held my breath, "Benson's dead"
Mr Benson was a white Bengal cat that had lost its way, and pawed into our hearts. Umma fed it for two years until he went missing. We searched for months but he never came back. Then later on, I found him on our newspaper colum stating dead, in the village four kilometres close. It was him. I was so sure.
"Well, we never know. Cats can return", Jeff said it spookily and I squinted, "Don't do that"
"Scaredy cat"
His laughs echoed as we entered the kitchen.
There was no sign of a cat having hoarded the place.
Except one thing.
A ketchup bottle lay open on the side table, its contents on a bowl.
I stared it in shock.
If a cat could do that, then this wasn't the planet earth.
My stomach's contents rose like the morning and I rushed outside to the table.
"Jeff, no!"
He stopped and turned to me, eyes widened.
"What?"
"Jeff, there is someone there", I whispered and shook my head, my eyes stingy.
"What?", Jeff kept suppressing a laugh, "What makes you think so?"
I spat, "The f*****g ketchup bottle"
"Mind your language, Ri.", Jeff switched to an elder brother mode and sighed, "That was me, Ri. I had some chicken sandwiches when you were outside. Umma didn't make anything today"
Oh.
Oh!
"Why?"
Umma not making anything was a surprise.
"She wasn't feeling well. Telling she had a massive headache and she wanted to sleep"
"Dad?"
He sighed, "Why do you have so much questions all morning? You are being a headache this entire morning"
Saying so, he stormed off to the living hall leaving me next to the kitchen.
Though I could swear the ketchup bottle wasn't closed then, it was closed now.
Nobody knew how.
These sensations were killing me, but so was Jeff.
He had got very angry and wasn't even looking at me now.
The loser.
All cute and loving like in the beginning and now a loser.
I shoved the phone away and started to jot down my assignments.
With my back turned to the kitchen.
Because whatever closed the ketchup bottle would need to travel upstairs as well.
- Writer
