'What have you been up to?' said Ana, arriving at the South Avenue Mall, where David had been sitting for a long time.
'You look miserable,' he answered, after she had dropped herself into the chair, 'and spent. Are you okay to be here?'
'Yes, yes. I'm all right,' she replied, drawing a napkin from her bag and wiping her face. 'I had to walk a long way.'
'A jam, then?'
'That's right.' She affirmed. 'A terrible, terrible jam. That medical road is always troublesome. Commuting isn't easy there. The bus broke down, and I had to walk through the cloud of dust till I reached the intersection and took an auto.'
'But I don't understand your hurry,' said David. 'We still have a month and a half before Christmas. Are you not out too early to shop?'
'Of course, I am,' she answered cheerfully, restoring herself to her original shade. 'But to explain the urgency, I would say it's my father's way of preparing for the celebration. He gets in the mood too early and remains in it long after the celebrations are over. He renovates the house and cleans it many times. It's quite a special day for him. In that sense, two months in advance is never too early.'
'Our house is different,' returned David delightfully. 'We're always in a hurry, preparing for the season. Though we always begin early, we are always last to finish our preparations on time. And mostly, it's the sweets that suffer in the end. Ha ha. But yes, it's the season of light for us.'
'Not so much for me, though,' replied Ana, turning sombre. 'I don't enjoy it as much as I should. It is turning out to be a worthless preparation each year. Daddy just wants the two of us. He invites no one and entertains no requests—not even from our neighbours. He keeps it strictly to us. But there's one good thing about it. He gives up on his drinks till the New Year. If only he maintains this sobriety long enough, it will do him much good.'
After she had said this, she looked down at her watch and suggested they proceed to the gallery. With David in happy compliance, they left the coffee shop and soon entered a small Christmas store. Going about leisurely, she picked up artificial bells, wreaths, colourful ribbons, Christmas bulbs, images of reindeer, snowman hats, and Christmas candies and began depositing them in the large bags she carried. David followed her from one spot to another, suggesting what she should pick up and abandon. And she was thankful to him. After an hour of exasperation, she came out of the store with her heavy bags on her shoulders.
'I think we're done for two seasons,' remarked David, following her. 'You struggle with the load. May I help you carry one?'
'If you please.' She gave her the bags.
As David began to walk ahead of her, Ana interrupted him.
'Only a minute, David,' she said. 'We have a lot of time at our disposal. We can make use of that. Would you mind if I attend another business?'
'If that's urgent,' answered David, adjusting his load, 'who am I to suggest otherwise?'
Having followed Ana closely, he soon learnt he was tricked into walking into a bookstore. At this, he began to drag his steps, refusing to go in.
'This is my friend's store,' said Ana, pulling him inside. 'I come here often. He offers me great discounts.'
'Great thing!' David returned sarcastically. 'What am I to do with it?'
'You forgot the oath I took?' She said, holding his arms and lovingly walking him inside. 'Come, therefore. I'm excited to discover how interested you would be in a little while.'
'You have tricked me,' returned David. 'So, this was your real purpose, eh?'
'Partly, yes,' she returned, laughing at him.
'But you will suffer as much as I do, Miss. You can persuade me but not convince me. I'm quite rigid about matters that don't interest me. I'm just not the right candidate for these intellectual occupations. I think they are too great to secure my attention. Finish quickly then, this dismal industry of yours.'
As they stood near a section of books, Ana leisurely picked up one, as she liked, and gave it to him. And when she advised David to read, he flipped through a few pages and returned the book to her. Annoyed, she gave him another, and he gave the same reaction.
'Here's the third.' She continued.
'No difference.' He replied, having flipped the pages and flung the book away. 'Nothing convinces me. I'm just pressed to leave. Get done with this quickly. The weight of the load is too much.'
But Ana refused to give up on him. She walked him to another section and looked around meticulously. Finding the desired book at the bottom of the shelf, she bent down to pick it up. Then straightening, she looked gleefully at him, her eyes twinkling with another mockery of his annoyance.
'This shall please you greatly.' She said, placing the volume in his hands. 'You asked me a question, did you not? Why you and no one else? Why live alone in this strange city and all that? What must one gain in the end?'
'I did,' said David. 'What about it, and how does that concern you?'
'Well, you must read this for an answer.' She answered delightfully. 'It has Mr. Pip in it. He shall remind you of you. He reminds me of you always. You will like it. I could have given you my copy, but my continuous reference has worn it out. Read it. You can learn how to sustain yourself in a city. Pip was just like you; anxious at everything, impetuous, and fearful. But he had great fun, nonetheless. It was quite an enthralling journey for him. You can learn how to be extravagant and yet keep up your sobriety. Ha ha. He'll teach you how to do that. It's quite an account of a young man of Great Expectations. The author is Charles Dickens, in case you don't know. He's my favorite.'
'I'm not concerned, Miss.' David objected, returning the book to Ana. 'I don't think I need this. Besides, this is too thick to get over soon. I can take up a short subject if you insist.'
'I thought as much.' Ana remarked, annoyed. 'Terrible you are. Didn't I say you're anxious about everything? It's just a book and nothing else.'
'I can't, Miss. If you have anything small, I can perhaps take a look. If not, I'm sorry. I can't oblige. You should know I didn't quite do well in academics.'
'This is not academics.' She protested in her amiable vexation.
'Quite nigh, verily. It reminds me of those miserable times at school. Now could you please restore the book to the shelf? We can do this some other time.'
But Ana was adamant. Notwithstanding his rude suggestion, she bagged the book and went further into the store. And as a punishment for his misbehaviour, David was to lead her in the business of selecting titles. They went from one section to another, one wrack to another, one corner to another. There were titles and titles everywhere. Old or new, relevant or obsolete; they were all there. It was quite an exposition. The dusty wooden closet on the top bursting out with paper. The small cupboard stacked with books. Old titles tumbling and toggling in a corner, forming a disoriented pyramid crumbling down, book by book. Titles and titles of every kind—addressing every fancy, desire, passion, sentiment, hope, despair, and agony. Is it not a place where heroes and failures are born, the wise and ignorant discovered, the young and old die, the hidden laid bare and naked sheltered, and the pauper and rich suffer? Is it not a place where courage is found, help denied, grief lessened, and solace desired?
Keeping her meditative aspect, Ana went about her inspection. She stopped and picked up various titles, flipped the pages, and deposited them back—examining, from time to time, matters of life and death, philosophies and ideologies, romance and betrayal. In his futile occupation of leading her on, David suggested a few themes, which did not interest her much. Noticing that she would outright reject much of what he would pick up, David soon abandoned the mission and stood aside, watching her. After half an hour, when this futile industry (from his perspective, of course, and that of those who would detest the enterprise at any cost) terminated and she was out of the store with quite a handful of titles, he couldn't have been more delighted. And the mind that was shown a path of understanding a little while ago was once again elated for being restored to its usual proud ignorance.
'I can't thank you enough.' Ana said to David, teasing him as they walked out. 'But I promise to make you interested someday.'
'I thank you more.' He replied, jeering at him. 'I feel much better. I'm pleased to be spared by you. And let this episode encourage you to persuade me no more. I would not like to not go there again. I'm not as patient as you may suppose me to be. These matters of life and death are too dark to look at. I was beginning to feel I was being robbed of life. Never again bring me here.'
With these words, he joined Ana in the laughter, and they prowled ahead. As they reached the row of eateries, he asked her if she wanted to eat anything. But Ana was busy checking her phone and missed his polite offer.
'I speak to you, Miss.' David disturbed her again. 'Anything you'd like to have?'
'No, David,' replied Ana, turning anxious and fearful. 'We don't have time. I think we must leave now.'
'Anything urgent?'
'My father called a few times, and I've missed him. I had promised him to be back before dark. He must be furious now. Let's leave before it's late.'
Soon they were darting toward the exit.
'Does he need you at this hour?'
'At this hour every night,' answered Ana, with a sense of terrible fret, 'for I serve dinner to him and eat with him. If he does not see me around at dinnertime, he falls into a terrible fury and resorts to drinking madly. I hope it's not the case today. I'm anxious now. Let's make haste.'
With this anxious discussion terminating, they were on their way home.
After a steady, silent commute for about a quarter of an hour, the bike was stopped near a patch of old worn-out houses sticking closely together.
'Do you see that lane?' Ana said to David, getting off the bike and pointing out the place. 'That's where I live.'
'Should I come in?'
'No, no. I can handle that. That's not unusual. Don't worry much. If he's upset, I'll cheer him up. I thank you. You can leave now. This is for you. Read it when you have time.'
These words discharged, Ana turned around and walked into the dark invisible lane, occasionally glowing with the light of the flickering street lamp above. Shortly afterwards, David deposited the book in his bag and rode away.
******
At home, a man with a scraggly beard, long knots, and curls upon his head like a perpetual hair lock, sat on his chair pressed against the wall. He was weak and drowsy, and his head drooped low. Garb and spittle all over his face. Clothes torn wide apart as if they had been ripped off in a fury. As he madly swung his head—as if he were a dying pendulum—and kept his partly eyes shut as though he walked drunk even in his dreams, he was suddenly arrested by a nudge upon the door. Opening his tired eyes and seeing a blurred image on the door—for his eyes were still partly shut—and mistaking it for a stranger, he let out a violent groan and charged toward it, hands foremost, to grab it by the neck.
'It's me, father,' yelped Ana, coughing and holding his hands at her neck. 'You grab me tight. Let go.' She coughed violently. 'Please let go of me. It hurts.'
'You!' The man slurred, letting go of her at once. 'You're here at last.' He retreated to his chair by the wall and dropped himself like a half-dead man. 'Why behave like a thief when you could walk normally? Where have you been?'
'I went to buy Christmas decorations with a friend.' Ana anxiously replied. 'I'm sorry I missed your calls. I was rather alarmed. Are you well, Papa?'
'Am I well, you ask?' Her father answered. 'Do you not know I'm weak in mind and need you?'
'I know that, Papa. I'm sorry. Did you have supper? Should I serve you?'
'No need now. I'm not hungry. Tell me about your friend.' He had a suspicious tone. 'What secret arrangement shut you off from your helpless father?'
'There's nothing secret, Papa.'
'There has to be something. You've failed to keep your promise. You treat me thus for a friend, and I ought to know about him. Who was it, Miss? And what purpose drove you to meet him at this hour? What business? There has to be something. Enlighten me that I may understand.'
'No business, Papa.' Ana was annoyed. 'I've told you already. Leave this matter, please. Tell me if you're hungry. I'll serve you now. If not, I can take you to your room.'
To this, her father laughed like a mad fellow and mocked her, saying,
'You can't get away so easily, Miss. Tell me about him. It shall please me greatly.'
'I shall tell you if that's important. For now, it's not. Let this subject rest for good. Don't dwell on your suspicions. It's an acquaintance and nothing else.'
'It all begins with that,' the man smirked, keeping his eyes shut in his drunken tranquillity. And whenever he felt he was coming out of this frenzy, and his delight was lessening, a sip or two from the glass on the table next to him reinstated him to his former state.
'I say, it all begins with that,' he set the glass on the table. 'But I press you to check your steps and be aware. It begins in friendship and ends elsewhere. It's not a great thing to pursue. It starts well but does not end as well. But don't worry if you still fall for someone. I'm here to caution you. You must only marry a rich man, Miss. Here's the declaration. No compromises here. No preferring love to other things.'
'Of course, you know it well.' She taunted.
'Not quite. I'm over it. Quite done with it. Hence, I advise you to pay attention. Should your steps proceed in that direction, let them be contained by what I've said.'
'These matters should not concern me, Papa. I'm beyond all that. I have neither the time nor the energy. These matters are of no use to me. I've seen people worn out with them and despise them. One too many I've seen.'
He opened one eye hilariously, keeping his debauchery nonetheless.
'One too many! Are you mentioning your mother and me here?'
'I don't know.' Ana turned her face to the other side.
'I'm sure you don't. But even if you mention us here, I'd have no problem. Though it's good that you hint at us, it'd be better if you're not inspired by us to walk that dreadful path. Let our lives be a lesson to you and many others. We have greatly erred. But you must not. Do not give in to these passing glories. Take us for your caution and learn from us. Do you get what I mean here? I'm sure you do. You're a grown-up girl.'
With these words, he picked up his glass to have another sip. But seeing the contents nearly over, he bent down and thrust his hands under his chair. And at once, his laughter subsided, and he straightened up, infuriated.
'This is what I detest about you.' He looked into Ana's eyes, his own reddened with subdued anger. 'You do this again? How many times now? Where did you hide them?'
'I don't know,' Ana turned her face away, 'and I'm not telling you.'
'You don't know!' He cried out. 'Did I not tell you not to touch them?'
She still pretended not to hear him.
'I ask you something, Ana.' He shrieked like a hollow man. 'Don't think I'm a child. You always trick me. A disgusting girl you are! You're from the same flesh and blood. You bear her impressions. You resemble her totally, and even more in your wrong sense. I see her when I see you. And now you show me your true color. Never dare to be a hindrance. I must live my life on my terms. You may do as you like. But with your life and not mine. Tell me where you hid them. Don't make me angry.'
Tony looked at her furiously and awaited an immediate response. Ana, however, instead of responding, arose and held him by the arm to lift him.
'You must go and rest, Papa. It's late. We will talk about it later. Let's move.'
'Not an inch, Miss.' He objected in his trembling voice. 'I close my ears to your requests and will not go anywhere. I shall remain here unless you give them back to me. See how my hands shiver in want and thirst.'
'You're done for the night,' returned Ana, tightening her grip on him. 'No more, please.'
'More is better.' He returned in his dying voice. 'They are my only recourse when I'm troubled in memory. I must be fully drowned in them to not think about the past. But you don't allow me even that. Look at my hands and feet. They shiver as though they fear a great tempest. Give them to me or condemn me to a peaceful rest. Give me one or the other.'
Threatened by his rhetoric and the fit he seemed to fall into, Ana agreed to oblige.
'Okay,' she yielded, 'I've hidden them in my room. Sit down and stay calm. I shall get them.'
Leaving him in the chair, she went into her room and returned with the requested article. And at once, her father snatched it from her grasp, uncapped it, and applied it to his lips.
'This is life,' he declared, lifting the bottle after a quick drink.
'Come, Papa.' Ana suggested, noticing that he was weaker than he was a minute ago. 'You had what you desired. Now spare yourself. Let me take you to your room and put you to bed. '
'No,' he returned with a silly chuckle. 'Not so soon. I don't go now. I must stay for more.'
Upset by his persistence, Ana sharply replied,
'And die?'
'It cannot be death,' he replied casually. 'If it were, who'd drink it? I don't die but live. This is life, and I must live it. I must drink myself out.'
Saying this, Tony emptied the bottle, rolled it underneath the wooden casement, and dropped himself into his chair.
'It's over now!' He groaned and slurred in his extreme drunkenness. 'And so will my life be, soon. Your father is a dead man. You now have no reason to live with me. Begone now and live happily elsewhere. You're a pretty girl. Find a husband and live and love. Build a home, but not like this one. This is not a home but a dungeon of the dead. And I'm that miserable dead, left abandoned by life. And as my bones shrink more out of marrow, groaning for life, I'm certain she'll be a happy woman somewhere. But I live in grief. And I shall wear this grief like a garment, and we shall die—it and I together. Leave me and have a life. Begone at once and see me no more. And then you shall have a life.'
Those were his last words before he fell to the ground and passed out, but not before securing the empty bottle at his chest as if it were his prized possession. Too dainty to pick him up, Ana left him sleeping on the rug and departed into her room, sad and angry.
Like how the night upon a deep, violent sail is made unbearable by the remembrances of good times of the past, the night of her unrest was made unbearable by the remembrances of her lost mother. And accompanying those remembrances were the impressions of that dreadful hour of that dreadful night; and she wished she were there when it had occurred.