An Unnatural Redemption
A short story
I was sitting on a park bench contemplating my life and how it became so messy, when a stranger asked me, “ would it be okay if I sit here?” It was an elderly man around sixty. I was caught off-guard by this for two reasons: first, this was a public bench, so he didn’t have to ask for my permission and second when an old person asks you something, you expect to hear the word ‘son’ at the end of the question. Or at least I did. “Sure,” I said without looking at him and went back to my thoughts.
Recently I had an argument with my girlfriend. We had been together for seven years. And every time I had argued with her, it had given me sleepless nights. This time, though, was different because she broke up with me after I had called her “stupid bitch”.
I know I can be a difficult person to be with. I get jealous easily. I am controlling at times. Just the thought of her being with someone else drove me nuts. I loved her from the moment I understood love. For me, she was the embodiment of Love. And I wasn’t prepared to share My Love with anyone else. She is mine and mine only. I would die for her, I would kill for her. I had come here to wait for her call or message in solitude. I had planned that I would go to her apartment and talk to her if she would not call or text.
Minutes would go by without interruption, then he asked in his deep voice, “ d’you know what I like the most about My Life?” A little annoyed, I wanted to say, “I don’t give a fuck.” But I looked at him this time. He wasn’t looking at me. He was looking straight towards the fountain in the middle of this enormous park, which at this morning hour looked gloomy. Now that I was looking at this elderly man, he seemed oddly familiar. He looked a bit like my father. Now I had to respect him. So I asked, “What..?”
“I got a chance to come here,” he said, smiling. He looked at me once and then away. I didn’t know how to respond to that so I said “ good for you” with an encouraging smile, thinking it would shut him up. But I was out of luck that day. He almost instantly replied, “ I know.. right?”. He didn’t seem to notice my irritation. He continued, “ I mean how many people in this world are lucky enough to get a chance like that?”. I knew it was a rhetorical question but I answered it anyway, “ apparently not enough, otherwise, this bench would not have sufficient space to contain those people.” This answer gave him a little idea that I was in no mood for chit-chat with a complete stranger.
He looked at me and said, I’m sorry if I have disturbed you. It wasn’t my intention. I’ve always been an introvert, so I never knew how to approach people to talk.” That explained a lot about his odd behaviour. I felt a little sorry for the acrid words I had spoken to him.
Being an introvert myself I could understand how he felt. “ But I am good at solving problems,” he added. He really was bad at being an extrovert. The word which came to my mind to describe his condition was Pathetic. I cursed myself for thinking that. “I am sure you are”, I said and decided to leave this bench. As I stood up he followed suit. “ I really can solve any problem, you just have to ask”, he emphasised with a maniacal eagerness.
It spooked me, so I snapped, “I don’t need your help! now please leave me alone!” I walked away from him towards the parking area of the park. As I reached my scooter which was on its side stand, I sat on the seat. I was feeling so tense that I didn’t realise I had been contracting my forehead. I looked in the side mirror to confirm. And there they were, clearly discernible lines on my temples. It made me look older. I relaxed my forehead and saw the lines disappearing into nothing. I kept looking at my reflection for some inexplicable reason.
Now I was focusing on the mole on my nose and how imperfect it looked on my face. Then I remembered the old man has one on his nose as well. Sitting there looking at my reflection in the mirror a thought struck me like a lightning bolt. At first, the idea seemed fantastical, but the longer it stayed, the more plausible it became. And at last, it was the dominant thought. “He didn’t look like my father… He looked…”, I heard myself uttering these words. “ Like me”, as these last words left my lips, I felt the hair on my neck standing.
The face that looked back at me was the face of a man who had just seen a ghost. My head started to spin as if I was on a Ferris wheel. I held the handle of my scooter lest I fall. I give my head a fierce jerk. My heart was racing now. And before I could think anything I started to run towards the park where he( I) had approached me. As the bench came into view I came to a halt. He was nowhere to be seen. I kept walking looking around for the old man. When I couldn’t find him, I began to think that I must have imagined all that. But deep down I knew It wasn’t true.
How can you imagine someone so vividly that you could see the pores of their skin? It was impossible. I saw him, I knew it for a fact. My knees began to give up so I sat on the bench.
There on the bench was the evidence that I hadn’t fantasised about the conversation with the old me. It was a piece of white paper folded twice. Written on it with blue ink were the words in my writing:
You didn’t imagine it like I didn’t imagine it when I was you. Read the content of the letter and do as mentioned if you don’t wish to be the Pathetic person that you think I was.
My heart was pounding inside my chest as I opened the letter. The content was:
I sold everything I owed to make this trip possible. I don't want you to make the same mistakes I did. What I am doing is a crime where I am from. It is against the law of nature. You aren't supposed to know what I am about to tell you. I know I am being selfish but I can not endure any more of this guilt I have been carrying for 30 years. I will be executed in front of the jury for the crime I’ve committed. Just so that I can tell you this: Do Not Go To Her Apartment Today. You will not be able to handle what you will see there. You love her more than you know. You will be nothing without her. She completes you. Do Not Go To Her Apartment. No matter what happens. I am begging you not to go there. If you go there She Will Die. She Will Die There. And You will be the one that does it.
I continued to stare at the letter I was holding with shaking hands. I had completely lost the ability to distinguish between reality and dream. I wanted to look away from the letter. I couldn’t. When I did look away, the sun was above my head. The park was almost empty.
