The Walk Back Home

The reason to start this blog is my intent to write funny and satirical posts. But, I began writing short stories recently and there is a great satisfaction, if you write them, be it short or long.
 
This interest started with writing poems. Then, my poems began to have a storyline in them, which inspired me to write short stories.

Not all can be good story tellers. And I am just a beginner. My stories and their storyline, definitely draw inspiration from my interests, surroundings and persons I admire. And, I do not promise or proclaim everyone will like what I write.


                                                  THE WALK BACK HOME

It was a cold and moonless night. She heard the clock chime twelve, some place far away.
“I know I should not be out here at this hour. But I miss my folks. And I cannot sleep.”  Jane thought.

  

Jane lost her parents, her brother and his new wife in an accident. Her brother was her best friend, and she was beginning to find a new friend in his wife. She could see they were so much in love. She could not get over the things that happened to them. ‘How can God be so unfair?’ she thought.

As she came back to her senses, she saw that she was sitting on a bench in front of the cemetery, where her family was buried a week back. She thought it was best to leave now. This night was unusually creepy and eerie. She did not realize she was sitting there since the evening.

She began to walk down the road. She saw lights at the end of the road. It was strangely quiet. She mustered all the courage to walk till the end of the road. Although, she could not think what is giving her the creeps. There was nobody else (or so she thought!) and that is what made it scarier.

There was a tap on her shoulder. She could not take a step forward. She was pretty sure she was alone.

“Hey! Wait up!” It was a guy’s voice. She began to take quicker steps. The end of the road looked so far away.
“Listen up!” he was standing in front of her. He was tall, unusually fair with rumpled hair and remarkable features. But, the eyes, they were not lifelike rather pale, glassy and misty.  He was nothing like ordinary. 
“I am Henry. Henry James III. I have come here to visit my wife’s grave. I happened to see you when I came out. It’s unusually dark and creepy tonight. And, I thought I’d give you company.”

“I can walk for myself. Thank You.”

“Look I know it’s late and I should not have followed you. But, I don’t think it is safe for you to walk here at this time of the night. I am here to help you reach home safely.” He assured her.

She decided it is best not to argue and she began to walk again, with him beside her.   

“How come I did not see you before I started down the street?” Jane asked him.
“You were lost. I was coming right out of the gate when you started.” He said.

Silence. Dead Silence.

“You seem to be grieving. Who did you lose?” he asked.
“My family and my new sister-in-law.” She said.
“I am sorry.”
“Don’t be. It is not your fault. It’s may be because of me.” She said.

“Shall I walk you home? In this state I don’t think you can even walk straight.”Henry said with a concern his voice.
She looked at him. There was no sort of emotions on his face. She looked into his eyes. It is as if they could see through her. This made her weak, out of fear. His voice was nothing like what he looked like. It was strong, assuring and had command to it.

“It’s not necessary. I can find my way. Besides, I don’t even know you.”

“You may not know me. But you can know who to take help from and when to take.”

She looked at him again. This man, Henry James III does not look like he talks. She now observed a prominent limp in his walk. 

“Why are you named Henry James III? Sounds so ancient.” she asked him.  

There was the sound of an airy laughter unusual again, for a man. She looked at him again, only to see that expressionless face.

“My parents named me that way, just for the heck of it. Do not ask me why again. I do not know the answer for it.”He sighed.

 “Okay. I am Jane by the way. Jane Thompson.”

The end of the street approached. They now took a left turn. She saw that the lights were out on this lane today. Why is it turning out be quite a weird night?

  

“How did you lose your wife?” she asked him.
“In an accident. A speeding car hit her and then hit me. She saved me. The impact lessened when it hit me. We were crossing the road.”
“That must have been devastating. I am sorry.”
“Don’t be. It was my fault.”
“Ha-ha.”
They crossed the street to take a right turn. Thankfully, there were lights. But the night still seemed to be cold and dark.
 

“How did you lose your family?”
“Lost them in an accident too. They dropped me off at the crossroads and were about to start when an uncontrolled truck rammed the car. I should have been in the car. They stopped because of me.”
“Hey! It was not your fault. Sometimes God does unfair things to good people.” He said, stopping in his tracks.

She looked at him again. The face was still fierce. It was maybe because of the loss that he incurred.
But there were no lines on his face that showed the grief.

“My brother was so much in love and I have never seen him so happy in his life. He never got a chance to live and experience his new found love. My parents and I were so happy for him.”
 Tears streamed down her fair cheeks.

“Your time on this planet is not known to anybody. Death is something that does not come knocking on someone’s door. People should realise that. There may be unfinished tasks, unfinished goals and unfound love. But all these do not matter after you are dead. It is how you live that counts. Not what you leave behind.” He explained. They continued their walk. She was glad they were nearing her place.
She sniffed and said “But they might not want to leave this place so early. That itself makes it an unfinished job. They may want to experience it all and then leave?”

  “Your brother, his wife and your parents were all in a happy state when they met with this accident. The accident must have been so quick they may not have felt any pain. So, they left this place happy.”He said taking her hand in his and patting it. There was no smile. But he was looking directly into her eyes. This made her uncomfortable again. His hands were cold. Icy cold.

They walked in silence till they reached her place. They stopped in front of her home.
“Thanks so much for walking all this way and also for those kind words. They were re-assuring.”She smiled.
He laughed that airy laugh again and looked in her eyes. It was piercing. Or so she thought.
“You’re welcome. I hope you live to be happy.” He said.

 

The last remark seemed spooky for her. She turned to walk to her door. She reached the porch.
He was not there.
That was quick for a man who limps. She still pondered on that last remark. It sent shivers. And she thought of those eyes.
She did not want to think more of this ghostly (Was she imagining?) figure. She opened the door and walked in.

Next day, Henry woke up. He thought about the girl from last night.
He thought about the freak accident in which her family perspired. He was thankful his wife, Shauna did not die in such a terrible accident. He would not be able to cope, if he would have watched her die in such a manner. His friends always say he has become a very fierce and a serious man after Shauna’s death.

He got out of his bed. He decided to go and pay respect to the Thompsons too.
He went to the cemetery everyday with lavenders. His wife loved them.
Today, he took flowers to place on the Thompson graves.

He reached the cemetery. He did not expect to see Jane in the morning.
He placed flowers on Shauna’s grave. He sat with her for some time.
He took a deep breath. He started to search for the Thompson graves 

He finally found the graves. He saw four graves at the beginning. But as he began to read the names, he came across a fifth gravestone. It read:

Jane Thompson.
1988-2012

He could not think for few minutes. He stood staring at the grave.
Finally, he placed flowers on Jane’s grave and walked out of the cemetery.
He decided he will place flowers on her grave every day.