Saturday, January 26, 2008

An Impossible Situation.





He stood in front of his house, afraid to go in. He knew of the crushing emptiness waiting, should he find her gone. Not one afraid to meet his destiny, he pushed the doors aside and walked into the dark.


The sea never stopped its mournful tune but all he heard was silence, and the beating of his heart. His legs did not want to move forward. He was ashamed his feelings were making him weak. Resolutely, he stepped forward. The package he was carrying hanged like a useless baggage on his hand so he threw it on a chair and marched into the kitchen expelling his breath.


She was not there. He suppressed his anxiousness and braced himself for disappointment. He lifted the curtain to his mother’s room in the hope she was taking a rest. She was not there either. He had expected a soft blow of disappointment which he will shrug off like water on his fishing coat. The blow that slammed into him and crushed his heart, squeezing the life out of it; he was not prepared for. He swallowed his saliva and weakly stumbled out of the room.


His eyes now accustomed to dark, saw the food laid out on the table under a food cover. A weak smile forced its way up. At least she had the decency to cook him dinner but he did not feel like eating. He will feel better tomorrow morning. He sat on his bed and was about to lift up his legs when with a shock he saw her sitting on his writing chair next to the table opposite his bed. Questions ere pushed aside as he hurriedly lit the small oil candle. He was sure she had been crying. Where is that strong woman he met yesterday and left this morning?


He stood there over her, not sure what to do or say next. She looked up and all he could think was how beautiful she was.


“Will you marry me?” she asked.


He stared at her in disbelief. Then, reality stepped in. He was no fool and he would not jump into conclusion. To calm himself down, he pulled a chair from the hall and sat down besides her. He looked at her calmly and asked “Why do you want to marry me?” He immediately realized his mistake. That is an impossible question to answer. “Sorry. Please tell me your trouble and how can I help?”


She lifted her head and he saw her pride. He was not sure what she will do next. Angrily get up and leave? Calmly explained herself? He waited for her decision. He can see her struggling with her options.


“I’ll be a good wife…” He did not like where this is going. But she stopped. She bowed her head and said “Sorry” in a low voice. “That is not what you want to hear. You have been kind and honest. I owe you more than an explanation but there are things that are difficult to say. Please understand. I am not hiding. I just cannot tell.”


“How can I help you?”


She went straight to the point. “I need money.” Alarm bells began to ring. He dreaded what he will hear next. Instead he asked “How much?”


“Three thousand yuans.” That is a lot of money. In fact, it is almost his entire savings. Savings he was putting aside for his marriage. He looked at her. She looked back into his eyes. He cannot read them but they are challenging him to doubt her. Should he? Why even take the risk? He would be a fool to take such a risk for someone he did not know. A fool even for someone he did. Why did she need the money for?


He checked himself and not allowed himself to stoop so low to satisfy his curiosity. If her intention is to deceive, all he received will be a lie. If he did not want to lend her the money, the reasons would make no difference. If he really wanted to, the reasons would not matter. He was a dilemma because he wanted to trust her and for her to think well of him.


“I’m sorry”, there was no change in her facial expression but a shadow fleeted across her eyes.


“Please understand”, why is he apologizing? “I could not give you an immediate answer. I need a few minutes to think about it.” She nodded and looked down at the table as if pondering what she is going to do should he turned her down.


He has a practical way of dealing with difficult decisions. Instead of asking what he should do, he asked what he will regret more not doing. Will he regret more not helping her in spite of the risk of being cheated (which he did not think so but could be wrong)? Or regret losing that amount of money? The answer was clear to him now.


He went and extracted out a heavy box from under his bed and unlocked it. He counted out the money and placed it before her without saying a word. There was no word of thanks. But were those tears at the edge of her glistening eyes?


He was stunned when she said “I’ve a more difficult request.”


Thursday, January 10, 2008

An Explanation - (Not Part of The Story)




I wrote this story because a friend asked me to write a story for her. I do not have a complete story ready (in fact, the story was created on the spot) so I’m writing it as I go along. The idea of using ghosts to tell the story came about from the theme of ‘ghost’ that I used to unite my blogs. And I wanted to write a love story. Other than that, I’ve no idea where the story will lead to or how it will end or if I’ll even manage to end it (she will kill me if I don’t). It may take 6 months or a year to complete the story but I cannot write faster. Every 2 weeks (if I can manage) when I sit down, I take the story from where I left it and continue but try to ensure it has continuity.


The Fisherman ghost just returned. So may the moonlight ghost or the railway ghost but I’m not sure if and when. You may think it strange that since I’m the one writing, how can I not be sure? But in a way, the story is writing itself. For every time I sit down, depending on the mood or what happened recently or what memories I recalled, the direction dictated by the ghosts are determined by them not me. This much I know. There will be more ghosts to be introduced. For I don’t think the tales can be told without them. They will reveal themselves to me when the time is right.


How this all can come together into a coherent story is a challenge and sometimes when the juice is not flowing, I think I’ve bitten off more than I can chew. Those who stumbled on this site and who are equally insane to want to continue reading, you should start from the first post – “The Ghosts & I” or you’ll never make head or tail of what is going on. I’m writing this story to fulfill a pledge as much to myself as the one I’m writing this story for. I’m not looking for readers for this blog – try my other blogs where I welcome readers. But if you want to continue on this dubious journey, maybe you as mad as me and as mad as the narrator/narrators of the story. Maybe you believe in ghosts.