A Quarter Life

A Smart Slave

Mike took the car to a drive. The roads were looking more lonely, more dead.

He knew the roads to Jenny's home. He went there, many times. Most of them, to stalk her, silently.

He loved her since the day he met her. He would follow her many times, to see her, as long as he could see.

He could see the afternoon sun, running slowly towards the west. Another sunset, another day gone.

He drove off the highway. He could see a windmill far away, moving clockwise, slowly. The roadside trees looked soothing, calm. He drove along the roads. Some cowherd was loitering in the roadside field, the cows were eating. What? Lunch, maybe.

He could see the sun, did the sun see him? Who knew? He drove along.

He drove in the locality. The smooth roads, all gone. People everywhere, hastiness everywhere, chaos everywhere.

He drove to her home. He can see the small home amidst all the apartments.

He parked the car, slowly. He got off the car. The air was quite hotter than usual. The soothing breeze, he could feel it on his pale skin.

He was facing the front door. The door was old, but newly colored. The odor of the color could be felt.

He searched his pocket. He found a key, she gave him some days ago. The key had a key ring, a puppy doll attached to it.

He couldn’t hold his tears. He knew he could never.

He wiped out his tears, went to the door, to unlock it. He pressed the knob.

Surprisingly, it was open. He couldn’t understand. How? Did Jenny forget? No, she remembered everything.

He was confused. He slowly opened the door. The cracking sound of the door broke the silence.

He looked around. The drawing room and dining room seemed okay. He didn’t find anything suspicious.

He walked to the living room. The rooms were well ventilated. He could breath fine.

He walked into the living room. The room was unorganized. Clothes were scattered, fallen on the floor, on the bed. Everything was spread.

He couldn’t understand the reason, he was very confused. Jenny didn’t usually make these types of mess. What had happened here?

Suddenly, someone struck him in the back head. Everything became numb to him. He couldn’t see the faces clearly. He saw the world, spinning around him, blood dropping around the floor. Everything surrounded within him.

He thought, was it the end? Was the always be incomplete?

“I sat there, chugging beers, with everyone else. The roast was quite, quite delicious. Ruth gave hell of a lesson, lesson of patience, lesson to keep waiting.

Everybody went on the roast, it looked tasty, and with some ketchup, it was way more delightful.

The roast had a crispy aroma. I would have eaten it alone, while being alone. But with people, with celebration, with rejoice, every bite felt to fill the stomach.

I saw Sergeant. He was happy, a happy drunk old grandpa. Did he love his army dress? Of course. He would die wearing it. But, how much life would he live wearing it?

I saw Ruth. He was a quiet guy, a shy guy. A rich, but not brat. He had a life of comfort, a life of progression, a life every civilian would love. He made it a mere choice. He abandoned that life, he came to the army life. He left the bed to join the bunker. He threw the books to pick up the guns. His military life was full of uncertainty, yet he could smile the brightest.

I was delighted to see the troop. They really were living the night as last night.

Then I saw Reeve, laughing, joining the party, enjoying to the fullest. What was in his mind? What was he thinking?

I chugged a beer and said, 'Hey Reeve, share your story.'

Reeve looked at me, happily, 'Aye Charlie guy, my stories are like a big ass giant, haunting me every bedtime. It will take years to say them.'

I laughed, 'Just one, just your favorite one. The night's still young. You can narrate your story twenty or thirty time, and still the roast will be undercooked.'

Everyone laughed. Maybe the lamb would have laughed if it was alive. Maybe, I am not exaggerating myself.

Reeve laughed, 'You fellas so lucky there’s no Bourbon. Or I would have kept you all alive, awake and irritated tonight.'

I said, 'Well, you are so loyal to your beer. Let's just say, we took advantage of your loyalty.'

We all laughed. Reeve took a big bite from his plate.

He started, 'Well, I came to earth by the help of a mid range family, you know. I was, by born, a dreamer, a naughty fucker.'

Sergeant added, 'I think we all know that very well.'

We laughed, Reeve laughed the most.

He continued, 'So, after my birth, my father said my grandfather was reborn as me, I was like, who would wanna return to the shitty place who has lived once.'

He had a point, funny yet true. I myself would reject reincarnation.

He said, 'I was put in a elementary school. The teachers were fun, fun to irritate. They would complain to my father, every time. And I knew, every time they made a complaint, I knew a pair of stick would be broken on my back that night. And every time my prediction went right except one time.'

I was surprised, 'So he didn’t hit you that one time?'

Reeve laughed, 'He hit me. But with a hot metal rod.'

Everyone laughed, Reeve to. But I couldn’t. Once I got burns from a hot metal rod once, accidentally, and I couldn’t sleep several nights for the pain. And this guy, took a beating of it, yet slept quite alright, like a regular night. Gosh! Did he have the puffy cigarettes then?

He continued, 'So it was regular for me. My family was quite pain in the ass. They wouldn’t allow me to have friends, for them, I was a family slave. They would use me for any goddamn work in this universe. But you know, a smart slave never works without keeping his stomach full.'

Ruth laughed, 'Brother, a smart slave never becomes a slave.'

Reeve laughed more, 'well, true. He becomes son of a conservative family.'

Ruth laughed and chugged the beers. The beer smell, mixing with the fried roast, had a mesmerizing smell.

He added, 'So, I used to pickpocket, pickpocket my own father. He used to be out of York like five to six times a month. So, he would be few days at home. He would sleep in the afternoon. And oh my gosh, his snores, would wake the sleeping beauty up without a kiss.'

Sergeant interrupted, 'Man, he couldn’t beat my father in snoring.'

Reeve said, 'I don’t know. If possible, tell your father to meet him in hell and compete.'

The laughter was there again.

He took a bite, 'So, as I was saying, when he slept, I would enter the room. I would follow the snoring pattern and go to take his wallet. I would grab some dollar bills from the wallet, and ran to my room. I would throw a party, with them. Eventually after some days, he would find out and would beat me to pulp.'

Ruth said, 'Man, you were hell of a devil.'

Reeve frowned, 'Why? Why 'I was'? Ain't you seeing my trident, baby?'

Reeve laughed with them. I couldn’t say anything.

He said, 'One day, I irritated a teacher, beyond limitations. He called my father to complain. I was habituated, still I was s**t scared of his beating. But, he never came to school.'

I asked, 'Why?'

He took a bite, 'He was dead. Mom cut his throat after she found out he was cheating on her with some Mongolian girl, and then she hanged herself.'

The troop sat silent.

He laughed, 'Why so long face? I never felt anything for them, but I was happy for myself. No more slavery, no more robbery, a happy chill life. But yeah, I was angry on my father. Why a Mongolian, you motherfucker? You could get brunette, blonde, redhead, at least a busty cunt, but no, Mongolia.'

We all laughed. I cried for him, in disguise of a laughter. He was a strong guy, I should say.

Suddenly, we heard some firing on the east side. Not just firing, heavy firing.

What was that? A guerrilla attack?”