The Highway Man

by J. Alchem

“Yes. Who is calling?” I casually looked over at my picture hung on the right wall. It’s a doctor’s temperament, something I was well endowed with, to not be irritable when someone called at odd hours, inquiring for my services.

“Nicholas Sieum?

The next day, at exactly 9 PM, I was at the front door of Nicholas Sieum. His father welcomed me with a light smile and took me to a room that I realized was a makeshift library. There were hundreds and thousands of books. It was the ultimate bibliophilic dream, to be amidst so many books; to finally be able to see your favourite author’s own personal collection.

His character of Catherine was so beautiful and such a lovely one that I often would call my wife by this name and she would blush and tell me that she loved it when I did that.

“He has been working on the series from the past 15 years. For the last 15 years, if anything was on his mind, it was Catherine and Amay. Every passing moment was spent working on the chemistry of the main characters. He transcended so deep into the relationship that she slowly became a part of his reality. Now, it has come to a stage that if he wakes up in the middle of the night, he calls for her. If he’s having breakfast, he would ask her to join him. When he leaves for an engagement, he leaves notes behind for her and sometimes, even voicemails,” the poor father broke down.

A huge portrait of Catherine welcomed me: early twenties, blonde hair, around 5”6’ in height, hair scattered over her lovely face like the rays of a sun at dawn, cheeks like a winter apple, green eyes that held the vista to nature and a long nose, like a road leading to heaven.

I then bought a few more and I make sure that I wear one everyday so that someday, whenever I meet you, I am in the outfit you always wanted me to see in.

Isn’t it dramatic, how we got separated? We were living together, sharing every beautiful moment, and then one day when I woke up, you were gone. I thought you were out for jogging as you kept saying that you would start it soon. I made coffee and waited for you to come back and enjoy it with your favourite muffin, but you did not come back. The whole day I walked here and there, settled on a chair looking outside the window, expecting you to come back, but you were long gone. I don’t know what made you do this, but I seriously wait for you even now and I am pretty sure that one day, there will be a knock on my door and it would be you.

“What happened?” my wife asked as soon as I entered my house. The best thing about women is that you needn’t tell them anything; they just figure it out on their own. She came to me, removed my neck tie and kissed my cheeks.

“So, he believes that she is alive and around?” “Yes, his mind is constantly creating that illusion.” “Men are really strange. Either they don’t feel any connection at all or if they do, it is too deep,” She said.

Sunaina used to be my class mate, the most jovial girl of my class and a complete opposite to me. She was a backbencher, a girl who never left a chance to mock and pull the legs of others and to even misname the teachers. At first, I hated her for interrupting the class, cracking poor jokes, and trying to flirt with others. Then, with time, I gradually started liking her for the same things and finally, I fell in love with her. After getting our families in agreement, we got married. She was my passion, my life. Everything. I loved her more than anything, even God. After she left me, I wasn’t able to find comfort in anything.

Ayaan was sitting still, his head turned towards the window, watching the trees lose the race against our car. Maybe they had given up to win life too.

There also was another reason for this anger. It was that, despite being a stranger, he was able to put a smile on Ayaan’s face, but I, his father, couldn’t.

“I was taking my wife to the doctor when suddenly a blind turn came and our car bumped into another car. She died on the spot. And you know what? She was pregnant. We were going to have a baby. A baby that couldn’t open her eyes for even a second to see what the woman looked like who had carried her for 9 months in her womb, bearing all the pain. A baby who couldn’t see the face of a man who every day planted a kiss on her mom’s stomach just to tell her that he loved her a lot,” he said with a choke in his throat.

The tragedy!

“Oh! I am so sorry for your loss,” I replied while looking at his face, trying to hide my own tears. “Don’t be! It’s life. Everyone has to leave one day,” he consoled me as he spread the smile around.

“Life is not about missing what is gone but counting and cherishing what you have.”

He was changing people in a jiffy by doing nothing except giving them compliments and making them feel special. I couldn’t help but admire him. He was different. He was able to hide his tears and loneliness behind his ever smiling eyes.