Amy’s Letters
Dear Son,
Your early
morning guitar melodies played again. They still play in my ears and
those musical notes echo in my mind. Today morning as I got up, my
fragile hands reached a pack of cornflakes. I sat myself down on a
chair, as I poured them in a bowl on our dinner table. Sooner did I
settle down I remembered, you like them with chilled milk only.
Resting my hands on the
table my frail legs and aching knees managed to pick my ageing body up
again to walk towards the refrigerator. I opened the door to find a can
of chilled milk. I mixed it with the flakes and before they became
soggy I shouted “Sam, breakfast is ready and if you don’t waste anymore
time, I’m preparing your favorite Spanish omelette too." You never
came down son and the tunes of your guitar somehow vanished in thin
air.
I started my
daily routine chores. Your father as usual has left for the day without
eating breakfast. “I will be home early today Jen… love you.” He
yelled as he drove off in his car. I love it when your father calls me
Jen. I have loved it for 40 years. I always thought Jennifer was a
lovely name and I didn’t want any pet names. But when your father first
called me ‘Jen’, I just fell in love with it.
As he had promised me, he returned home early today. He bought me flowers. Roses. You know Sam, how much I love them!
We had a simple dinner and
then we waited for you together. Today I flipped our family album. Sam
you looked funny wearing the Joker cap and cake all over your face. I
wonder, now whom you must be celebrating your birthday with…I still
light a candle on a homemade cake as usual on every birthday of yours.
Sam I cleaned your Baseball
kit today. You remember the first school match you played? I had come
to see you perform. Getting up early morning for the match and then
hurriedly gulping down a glass of milk only to rush out in the fields
for a warm up run, I remember overlooking you from our window. Once you
had suddenly disappeared in the fields and I went looking for you in
all the directions in the fields around our house.
You emerged after sometime
only to cover my eyes from behind giggling and teasing. I really felt
like whacking you that day. I should have done that Sam, because your
habit of disappearing still continues.
Tuesday… Today again you
skipped your breakfast. You are so much like your father. We plan to
play Carom. I want you to win this time. Last time your Dad had won but I
believe he cheated. How can you loose, my son? It’s not possible.
I delivered cookies to the
nearby shop. They made my payment too. On my way back I picked up a
smart sweater for you. It’s a deep blue color. Sam, please come home
early today.
It’s late evening and your
father has still not returned. I gathered my flowing gown and slowly
opened the window of our house. Adjusting my scarf I looked out of the
window to see only darkness.
I kept looking for some more
time only to return to the telephone to call your father. As my
trembling hand reached out to the phone, the phone rang. In a hasty
attempt of picking up the phone I dropped it to the floor but managed
to pick it up. It was your father. “I will be late darling, do not
worry” before I said anything he cut the call.
I looked around the house in
fear. It was only me in the house and one sound…the ticking sound of
the clock on the wall. Time…My only companion. I called up your
department to ask for you, but as usual they were rude to me. The game
of Carom that I had set remained untouched as I sat near the window the
whole night. Neither your father nor you returned.
I patiently waited with the
cornflakes in the bowl and omelet in the side dish the next morning. I
went upstairs to check whether you were still in bed. You were not. You
never showed up my son…
I went to the church to
pray. On my way back I met your friend Jack. I asked him about you but
he looked sad. I said I prayed for you, but he said “Mrs. Douglas, you
know how a sailor’s life is! Sam was sailing around the Bermudas. We
too haven’t seen him for months now. People say he just disappeared one
day.”
Jack is insane. He tells me
this depressing thought every time he meets me on my way back from the
church. He was telling me how some people said you were abducted by the
aliens while you were out in the Bermudas.
I also have heard such
rubbish tales. But I know you are very much here. You must have lost
your way somewhere only for sometime. I didn’t tell him that you played
guitar on Monday morning and I enjoyed every tune of it.
Back home I read a book on
Bermuda triangle. I kept reading till it was dark. Your father and me
we went to the terrace. How lovely our house is. It’s a cottage miles
away, on the outskirts of the town. The sky is so low almost touching
the earth. The deep enigmatic space above with stars as holes in it is a
delight to watch. Your telescope still lies in the terrace Sam. I miss
you so much.
“So, Amy how far have you
covered writing your story? Did Jennifer finally meet her son? I mean
how many letters will the poor old lady write to her son? John teased
his wife. “Well, it’s the last Thursday, that is all I have to cover.”
said Amy “Amy you have been an author for the last forty years of your
life. How much more work will you do?” asked John. “You have been
writing Jennifer’s story for the last three years now.”
“Well many letters have been
written, but now Jen plans to write the last one. I haven’t penned
down the details of the last letter. I was waiting for you dear. You
know I have this habit of reading out my half written stories to you!”
Amy said. “But you have been immersed in this story too much. Too much
work at this age” exclaimed John. “Hey I call this my last story; I
don’t know if my age will permit me to write more after this.” said
Amy.
Amy suddenly popped an
unexpected question to John. “Do you see Jennifer in me?” asked Amy
raising her eyebrows “What kind of a weird question is that Amy. Now
lets play a game or two, you need a break.” said John starting to set
the game. “But first my narration and then whatever you say darling”
Amy arranged two chairs. On one she sat herself down flipping through
her story and next to the other chair she arranged a side table. “For
my cigarettes?” winked John. “Well I have to bribe you to read my
story, but you must quit smoking. I know you won’t, but I won’t stop
telling you either.”
“The famous Cheese cake from
the Clarke’s!” Both Amy and John turned to find Julia, their only
neighbor in the area, as they lived miles away from the town. Julia was
a divorcee and had moved in next to the Douglas a year back. She was a
fairly good looking woman with a thin frame. She worked for a nearest
mall from her residence. She managed their accounts. She was trying to
get over her past in an attempt to get over bitter relationships. She
dropped in at the Douglas occasionally to chat with the old couple.
“Sorry to disturb your
romantic evening Mr. and Mrs. Douglas” “Oh no common, my audience is
increasing” said a frail Amy, as she pulled another chair for Julia and
asked her to join in the narration of her story ‘Letters’ and Julia
happily obliged. Amy narrated the various weekdays, weekends and
Jennifer’s routine with a detailed description.
“Oh John please get the
phone.” interrupting her narration Amy requested John. “What? There’s no
telephone ringing here” said shocked John. “I heard it. Am sure” said
Amy “No Amy, nobody’s calling. I think you are overworked. You need
some rest.” “Ok, let me complete my narration.” said Amy, ignoring
John. Julia how did you find it so far?” asked Amy. “Excellent… I can
almost visualize Jennifer’s life.” “Well, that’s the point.” Amy
continued reading further. ‘Your telescope still lies in the terrace. I
miss you so much Sam.’ adjusting her spectacles Amy narrated the last
lines of her incomplete story.
Tomorrow I plan to write the
climax of the story. “Oh, please Amy, tell me what it is” Julia asked.
“No! How can I disclose it now, you will have to read my story for
that” said Amy calmly. “No! am away for a week. I’m leaving for my
native town to settle some bank accounts. And after that you folks are
planning a trip to Chicago right? I can’t wait till then.” said Julia
in a childish tone.
“No” said Amy. I have to
sleep early tonight, as I have to get up early tomorrow. Tomorrow is a
Thursday morning you see.” Both Julia and John exchanged looks in
confusion. “Thursday?” they murmured
John lit his fourteenth
cigarette. “Let’s go to the terrace.” John took a pack of cigarettes.
After slowly climbing up the stairs, the three settled, aligned for a
view of the vast fields all around their house. “How lovely our house
is. The sky is so low, almost touching the earth and with stars as
holes in the deep space. A delight to watch.” said Amy
Startled Julia looked at
Amy. “Some lines from you story I guess. This view looks exactly the
way you described it Amy.” “Yes there are always shades of me and my
life in my stories and that way I can identify with the characters in
them.” Amy explained. “Hmmm…” all three got engrossed in star gazing as
the night grew darker and thicker.
After much star gazing,
Julia left with a quick goodnight. Amy was now too tired to even set
the bed, John helped her out. While he set the bed, Amy went to the
kitchen. She opened the refrigerator and checked a can of milk.
“What were you doing in the
kitchen?” asked surprised John. “Nothing, I just checked if
everything’s in place for breakfast tomorrow.” Amy crept inside her
blanket and kept looking at the window as she went fast asleep. “But I
don’t have breakfast darling” with no response from Amy, John switched
off the lights and went off to sleep.
Next day morning Amy went in
the kitchen to cook. I hope John returns early tonight, I want to
complete my story, Amy murmured to herself. John left for the day. He
returned early that day as he was feeling a little unwell. “Dinner is
ready darling” said a weak Amy. “Will catch up with you after I finish
my fag” John lay in the sofa watching TV.
“John you never have dinner
when it is at the right temperature. Please come soon” Amy waited for
ten minutes and then approached the sofa where John was watching TV.
“John, Dinner?” there was no reply. John was not smoking. He lay still
in the sofa. Amy doubted something was wrong. She turned to look at
John. He was looking pale. She watched a little closer. He didn’t move
his eyes at all. “John are you OK?” asked Amy with a gulp in her
throat. She touched John. His body lay cold and lifeless. No movement.
“John” Amy moved behind in shock. She called the doctor. “Emergency…”
“Massive cardiac arrest.
Mrs. Douglas, I’m sorry John is no more” said the doc. The doctor
explained the formalities. She followed the doctor without a word or a
question. After all the formalities and rituals she returned home. For
days she sat near the window and stared outside in the darkness. She
didn’t write.
Days passed but Amy was no
longer herself she was speechless, emotionless, as if she was stuck,
frozen in time. One fine morning Amy went to the church. She sat there
till noon. She came back and without a thought or hint she started
writing, completing her incomplete story.
Today is a Thursday. But
nothing seems to be the same anymore. Sam, some things have changed
forever. Today I didn’t make breakfast for you or your dad. Amy started
writing, adjusting her spectacles. I wish I could rewind and stop time.
Son there’s bad news. Yesterday your father passed away. Smoking
killed him. I often told him not to smoke. He never listened to me. Now
am lonely my son. I need you Sam.
Friday and am still writing
to you Sam. I’m tired now, tired of my loneliness, tired of waiting.
Met Jack on my way back from the church, but I didn’t exchange a word
with him today. I cooked dinner for your father out of habit. Son, I’m
leaving for Bermudas, to look for you. Amy went on writing.
“Amy…Didn’t you go to
Chicago? Or you folks are already back? Anyways, Amy please narrate
your story ‘Letters’ to me” said Julia. She had returned from her
holiday. Amy didn’t respond. “Where’s John. Terrace? Must be having a
fag?” asked curious Julia. Amy was writing without noticing Julia at
all. Then she suddenly turned and said “John’s dead. He smoked too
much. I have written so to Sam. I hope he returns at least after
getting these letters of mine.”
Shocked Julia stood like a
statue. What? John…” she murmured. “Amy all this happened when I was
away. How did you manage alone? I mean are you…are you Ok? Julia looked
at Amy. Amy’s face was blank. She was busy writing but was looking very
pale…
“I have completed my story
Julia, but do you think Sam will come back after he knows about his
father’s death.” asked Amy. “Sam? Amy…what are you saying? John is
dead… I mean…” Julia said in an utterly confused tone. “Amy I’m talking
about your husband John. I’m not talking about the character Sam in
your story.” said Julia with a chocked voice.
Ignoring Julia Amy continued
her conversation…“Tomorrow I have to get up early. It’s a Saturday
tomorrow.” said Amy. “No Amy, it’s not a Saturday.” said Julia. She
tried to console Amy to come to terms with what had happened. “Amy
listen to me. Look at me. I’m Julia your neighbor. I understand you are
depressed because John has suddenly left you. But you are not alone.
I’m there for you.” said a worried Julia. Amy removed her spectacles,
wore a scarf and went and sat near the window to stare at the darkness
outside. The whole of the room and the house resonated with silence.
“Julia did you see Sam’s
birthday album? Today I just laughed looking at his photographs. I was
looking for his guitar. He hasn’t played it in several days. I think he
must be getting tired after his Basket ball matches.” Amy broke the
silence suddenly.
Now slowly grasping the
situation, Julia sat quietly next to Amy. “Amy please listen to me
carefully. There’s no Sam. You were only writing Jennifer’s story. You
are not Jennifer. You are Amy. Your husband John has passed away. This
is real and not your story. There’s no Sam. You have been childless all
your life.” Julia tried explaining Amy’s confusion to her. But in
vain. Amy was already living Jennifer’s life. The signs were evident
even before.
“Please go to bed Julia. You
seem to be too tired. You should be fresh in the morning. Come early
for breakfast. I’m making Spanish omelet. Sam loves it. I shall see
you tomorrow. Goodnight.” Amy quietly walked to her bedroom. Helpless
Julia switched off the lights for Amy and went back to her house.
The next morning Julia
returned to check on Amy. Her door was open. Julia entered the kitchen.
The table was neatly laid with cornflakes in a bowl with chilled milk
and Spanish omelet in a side dish. Julia looked around. No signs of
Amy.
She went near her writing
desk. She found some papers of her story. Only the climax of the story.
“Today is a Saturday. Am not writing any more letters to you my son.
I’m leaving for the Bermudas today, to look for you.”
Julia froze in place. Slowly things started to unfold. Amy had really left in search of Sam.
A few months passed. Amy did
not return. Julia tried finding Amy’s whereabouts, but no trace of
Amy. She seemed to have vanished forever.
It was a Monday night, Julia
stood alone on the Douglas’s terrace missing them a lot. She looked at
the telescope in the corner of the terrace and then kept looking at
the deep sky with the hope that someday Amy might return.
‘The sky is so low almost
touching the earth and with stars as holes in the deep space, a delight
to watch.’ Julia remembered the lines from Amy’s story as she kept
staring at the vast fields and the infinite sky above her.
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