9.1 On the Rock

Sabo popped at the door to my kitchen quarter office, “Kawla! Do you mind if I cut some branches from the drumstick tree hanging over the roof? Falling leaves get stuck on the flashing on this side of the wall and it is leaking water into my room.”

“Please do,” I urged.

“Hey!” he stepped inside and sat down on a chair beside the table, “What happened to you with Shalin?”

“I don’t know.”

“She told me what happened.”

“What did she tell you?” I was interested.

“You knocked on the door,” Sabo began to lie, “And her cousin opened the door. Shalin stood ironing clothes. When she saw you standing in front of the door stark naked, she hurriedly came out and closed the door behind. Then you said you need help. Shalin went to your room after you.”

“No, I don’t think that happened.”

“Ask her cousin!” He’s a master trickster.

“I don’t talk to them.”

“That is the reason why this is so odd. When she came in, you asked her to hold a lotion bottle so that you could masturbate into it.”

“No! No!” I chuckled, “Absurd!”

“And she said that she could give you a massage to relax in bed. She put you in bed and gave a massage.”

“I can hardly remember that,” I said shocked.

“You were high. You can’t remember anything!”

“What happened then?” I asked.

“You insisted that you give her a massage, take turn. So, she lay in bed and you gave her a massage.”

“That is not true.”

“What is true then?”

“She came to my door with the rent money. I was masturbating and she said she could give me some help,” I described my version of events that day what could be the most probable cause.

Sabo sniggered, “No, no, Kawla. She already paid her rent,” he reminded me, “on the First of November.”

“Well, then she came under the spell.”

You know, to find myself on top of Shalin in bed was still a bizarre mystery to me. There must be some explanation how she got in there but Sabo was not telling the truth. If not, then what could it be?

 

Early morning at six-forty-five, I scooted to east waters and watched the sunrise behind the rain clouds. 2006 I felt like a wet year. Rain leaked from the roof and touched my guitar placed on the tiles leaving it with a small discolouring and a swelling. Tide subsided and the rocks emerged bare on the spot of Virile Waves. When the sun rose in my eye, I bolted home.

When I turned into Kala Hara Lane, I saw the girl going to school at slow pace. I reached from behind and called her to stop, “Nizu! Wait!” She glanced, roving those big eyes at me but she did not stop. I grabbed her hand by the wrist, “Wait! Did you notice that woman who was with me the other day at Melon Shop?”

She paused two feet apart, her arm stretched.

“Nizu! Tell me!” I squeezed her wrist, “Did you?”

She shook her head and her voice inaudible.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“Did you see me that day?”

She nodded, “I did.”

“What was I doing?”

“Shopping.”

“Come on, Nizu!”

“You bought cigarettes.”

“What was I wearing?”

“Shorts.”

“Shorts!” I released her and throttled to stop at my gate. I went inside in deep thought. Shorts! That was it. A normal day and I entered a wrong shop to buy some cigarettes. I was too baffled so I took a dose.

A week later, Shalin appeared with rent money for December. Sabo always transferred his rent to my bank account but Shalin preferred to pay in cash. I dropped it clumsily and she picked them.

“Sorry!”

“It happens, sometimes.”

“Did Ayya talk about it?”

She nodded.

“What did he say?”

“I told him I was at work in my office.” All that coordinator quality stonewashed from her body.

“Did he believe you?”

“He did.”

“Sabo will tell him.”

“They don’t talk,” she turned to go.

“Huh! Maybe there’ll be another time!”

She smiled, “Have a nice day, Kawla!”

“You too!”

Few minutes later, I counted the rent money and I was short by five hundred. I looked around if I dropped it. I could not find anything on the floor after a thorough search knowing that it would be shameful to ask if I was wrong. I counted again. Then I ran to her.

She stood in the east wing lawn wearing glasses and looked like she was about to go out.

“You gave me five hundred less,” I claimed. First time I looked straight into her eyes behind those glasses in a normal conversation – clear and watery brown eyes and rather small.

“I counted twice,” murmured Shalin and without any further argument, opened her purse and passed me a five hundred note.

I returned to my kitchen quarter and saw at once that missing note standing upright at the foot of the table and camouflaged. I ran to her and gave her money back, “I found it. I’m very sorry about that. I dropped it.”

“It happens, sometimes.”

She is the coordinator. She doesn’t make clumsy mistakes.

 

One afternoon, I had a moment with Asmr alone in The Breakwater and I told him about my experience of having those dreams of Sophie Nadz over coffee.

“I can categorise you as a madman,” said Asmr.

“Whatever! I feel pissed too.”

“She is a grandmother now,” he expressed, “You shall forget about her.”

“I have no interest in her,” I told him, “I just do not understand why I have those dreams! I don’t want to call them dreams but visions so real like in real life and so detailed and damn long.”

“Maybe she is thinking of you.”

“Is that what the dream is interpreting?”

“No,” he said, “it’s just a fact by coincidence, you are disturbed by these dreams because some cosmic rays are connecting the two of you.”

“Why?” I uttered blankly.

“It could be like I said, she’s thinking of you. And sometimes those vibrations are severe.”

“What do I do about it?” I asked eagerly.

“Give me few days,” said Asmr, “I will do a little research. I think I should be interested. With your highs and lows, you damn well did not know how you ended up on top of Shalin. That surprises me. It happened after a botched sorcery attempt. I want to know why.”

“I went out that day because Nizu told me I was buying cigarettes at Melon.”

“It could be. If you feel too full inside, get into the water and speak out. Relieve yourself!”