Sweet Hell (Part 4)

Late afternoon, cloud cover and gloomy in the sky, in tone of pink and grey and no sunlight penetrated through. “My mother wore a brown sari, looking frail, talking to a tall English officer who climbed from a navy ship. They were in the lawn covered of white sand. He wore khaki uniform that made him a missionary more than navy.

“I was standing at the gatehouse. My house, a single-storey limestone building, standing by the corner of two lanes filled of sand and scattered puddles of water. Opposite mine stood a six-storey building with beaming columns, grey walls and pillars decorated of pink marble. Only a very rich person could have a house like that. Not too many houses were that tall, I could see a decent view of the sea over the trees to my rooftop, around this one square mile island.

“In the eerie silence, I could hear a pin drop,” Ayyea continued to narrate. “I heard a faint sound of a crack like breaking a rotten stick followed by a mute rumble in the ground. Only a guy with sharp ears could hear it, feel it. I saw tiny cracks branching in the pillars of the concrete structure building, clearly visible in the pink finish and scores of minute cracks invisible to the naked eye. I turned to look at my house standing intact.

“I stepped in to find my brother, an architect. He was wearing a grey tie, white shirt, long sleeves, just got home from work. I asked,

“Did you hear that?”

He replied, “Someone just blasted the bedrock.”

The bedrock!

It was the most implausible explanation but no point to argue, he was a British graduate. He meant it was an implosion somebody deliberately blew it, ruling out natural causes of earthquakes that rarely happen. “That sudden jerk and thud we felt lightly in a single shot caused much damage to concrete structures on the island. Who would think of to blast the bedrock and for what purpose?

“I dashed to the backyard, a couple of indigent families dwell there in thatch huts,” Ayyea explained, “the schoolgirl, in her housecoat, shyly gave a smile to see me, at least, she didn’t hide. We all knew her mother pulled her out naked from her room with her boyfriend. ‘Did you hear that?’ She shook her head. Of course, she didn’t. Her mother rolling on ground stone paused to listen. Nothing stirred here. The cadjan huts remained untouched. Not a leaf swayed. Some kid pooped to the ground and flies buzzed. I returned to the gate.

“As I stepped on the road, I noticed someone on a bicycle pedalling fast and whizzed pass me. It was Multi-Ibre and he didn’t notice me. Shortly, three guys turned the corner and briskly walked away. I noticed them; Ashwar, an albino brother of Huda and another Thoddo bloke. They wore hooded overalls like burglars I see in the movies. They carried spades and digging tools in sacks on their shoulders.

“Instincts told me, these four guys united to do some harm somewhere, blow up the bedrock, perhaps. Ibre disliked the government, an undertaker, he worked with the national guards to blow up the reef. They are on the same rock.

“I realised I was witnessing the perpetrators who plotted an implosion to blast off the bedrock. If it wasn’t for me, if anyone else had seen them, couldn’t have possibly come to this conclusion.” Ayyea said.

“Technically, it is too complex to discuss the amount of destruction it caused and the magnitude for whatever reason…

“I reached the officer in uniform and told him that I believe I know the people behind this blast. He said that if they could get hold of a suspect his vessel was equipped to check TNT from forensics, clothes and tools, it could be traced in several weeks.

“These things were beyond my knowledge, not even the brown shirt guards would know, we weren’t that advanced. Why should I bother? I should keep my mouth shut.

“Thinking over, none of the suspects actually saw me on the road, so they wouldn’t know if I talked or not. But can I trust the white shirt police? My conscience didn’t agree even friends to escape after causing harm and damage to thousands of people.

“Shortly I learnt the amount of destruction it caused and the effectiveness of the execution. I’m sure the perpetrators wouldn’t expect an outcome as nasty as this.” Ayyea said, “The soft soil on top of the bedrock produced a shockproof effect cancelling vibration and damage caused far less to smaller houses and trees. Meanwhile, huge concrete structures mounting on top of the bedrock wobbled to cause cracks, some close to the epicentre stumbled completely.”

A number of TNT bags stolen from Thoddo reef project were dropped into a bottomless well in the demolished mosque that stood adjacent to Salty Breeze, almost a mile from Ayyea’s place. These bags bedded underneath the bedrock. When it was detonated, it sent the water shoot up into the sky and the sound of the blast too. Nobody around heard a thing.

It caused massive cracks in the bedrock and the reef. “It took millions of years for these rocks to form, so they say,” Ayyea professed, “These cracks will never heal.

“They used a plunger box and Multi-Ibre fled on a bike while others headed on foot.

“Quite rapidly, brown shirts streamed out on Bedford trucks with clubs, knocking doors, picking and packing pedestrians. It was curfew.” Ayyea carried on, “Later I learnt all this was targeted on Salty Breeze and the house was in rubbles. Nobody got hurt because they were out in a resort on that Friday, 15^th September.”

After this incidence, Club Rehendi expired and dancers returned home. Those perpetrators were caught and jailed, bound in chains in the cells of Doonidoo, severely interrogated and tortured, including a couple of Sosun Club founders.

Ayyea sighed, “Three months later, they were released. Can you believe it? Government changed and the Capricorn granted amnesty.”

Nazima saw a vivid dream of Farida Ikhtak on Women’s Lane. She was indeed on the island of Thoddo on holiday. Nazima had breakfast and ran to Women’s Lane like a wind, passing womenfolk on the way. She saw the woman in red dress over the watermelon fields and stepped to follow the apparition. At that point this ghost disappeared. Nazima reached the undergrowth in search of the hundi. She caught sight of a pair of white legs sticking out in the bushes. It was a woman. Nazima observed carefully but she could not see her torso. She called, “Hey folks! There’s a woman in the bushes.”

They found Farida killed in a cutthroat murder. She was wearing her blue slips.

Her body was brought to Male’. Examination proved a left-handed job. A day later, Ashwar turned in to admit he killed her. Island chief asked, “Why did you do that and for what purpose did you kill her?”

Ashwar replied, “Ask her. Ask her dead body.”

Farida Ikhtak was buried in Male’ dressed in a silver girdle from Ayyea’s grandma and to rest in peace. Club Rehendi dancers arrived on a boat for her funeral.

Mannan said, “Sharif’s wife was killed on 9^th January 1979, Tuesday. That was horrible and cruel. A long, fish knife was driven into her neck from the left and through the other side, holding her from behind. And her throat slit outwards so brutal we do not talk about it anymore.”

~The End~