“I am paying you to be authentic. I am paying you to remove the mask and stop the act. I am paying you to ask questions you really wanna know answers to. To truly speak from your heart rather than cheap courtesy. Honestly, I don't give a fuck, neither do you that is why you suck cock from any hole on your body where it could fit. I would like to fuck you, but it shames me… paints me as a loser. For once I want to get things because of what they are and their sake rather than what I have to offer.
“Don’t get me wrong, I am not mad. I am thrilled,” I ginned a grin as sweet as a sour lemon. My voice was devoid of emotion but the pattern in which they came made an unmistakable point.
“Fuck! I did not know that the talk-whore business was this heavy,” she smiled, something worth a thing beginning to take form in her face.
5
There is power in sex, maybe the kind that it makes it worth dying or living for. Maybe that is why the whole population of lifelings is still going strong. Like an incurable virus they spread. These were weird creatures indeed I didn’t know what drives them or understand their ways. That place…that room seemed so disorganized and confused. Yet those people seemed to have developed a set of norms that allowed them to function in that environment and perhaps blind themselves from the truth, our truth. To them, there was no chaos but clear patterns, I did not feel human at all. Sometimes I thought my eyes were a curse or I am an angel sent from above who has a severe case of memory loss and I had got used to the idea that I am human, so much that I tried to be.
“Just imagine your hand up her thigh. Screaming out her name as you fuck her,” Macfearson’s voice grumbled with lust for Kim.
Nothing else seemed truer than the pleasure that would give me. It might have been my gateway to salvation. Suddenly I felt inconsolable. Why? Every time I thrust her it would have been a reminder to her that all men are monsters or pigs or whatever she had grown up to believe about men. I wanted to change that, convince her otherwise but as much as I did I wanted to fuck her and spit in her face… slap her and call her a whore at the top of my lungs. Which of these two truths was I as a man and an individual? She might actually have been so skilled at what she does … it might just have saved me. At the same time, I was deeply disgusted.
“Why are you here?” I asked. Macxermillio wiped a tear off his cheek.
She shifted in her chair, tilted her chin forward and grinned. “I am here to have fun, enjoy myself and meet a couple of friends.”
“You really enjoy being here, drinking and doing whatever it is people come here for?”
“Yeah, it is fun. Meet new people and have great conversations.”
“Meeting new people? How do you that one?”
“You know, you just talk or whatever. Sometimes your friends introduce you or some shit like that. Sometimes it is a must do situation equal to being trapped in an elevator or some shit like that. Why wouldn’t you do it?”
“Maybe I am learning?”
I was blank there. How do you know what is appropriate to say? How do you contribute to a conversation the right way that gets people chilled rather than stare and shake their heads? How do you avoid the awkwardness and the constant feeling of being looked at like an alien or freak?
There were things she instinctively knew, things she could teach me or explain to me but just expected me to get. She couldn’t have though, not honestly, because she must have sensed the it.
How do you stay when you can see their rejection blurting through their masks? How do you endure that? How do you find genuineness? For what reason have the lifelings stopped being genuine or avoided it? What was the point to it all?
“You don’t look like you belong here,” she said.
I winced.
“No, no, no. I’m not saying this because you’re black, it has nothing to do with race. You just seem very clueless and pent up.”
I nodded. “I see. I get it. I think you’re bridge is locking onto my side.”
She laughed.
Chapter 8
1
It must have been an explosion…or something resembling it at a psychological level because I went deaf for a while. Kim babbled on about things and stuff, as the boulders of fate veered with determination. Oblivious to my awe, not surprising since the nature of lifelings is one of blindness.
“So why?” Kim asked.
“Why what?” I returned with such simplicity it seemed I was listening all along, a tone with a tint of shrewdness to it.
“You have been really unnerved to do what you doing to me now.”
“You think?”
“Yeah.”
I sighed, more out of habit than real emotion. ”Let’s play a game,” I paused searching my mind for ways I can make it sound like a real game rather than an evaluation or an interview before the job. A skill I never had but one that formed itself quite quickly and comfortably. “We each get to ask each other five questions, With each question we have to answer or avoid to by downing a glass of beer.” When I saw her look down her lap, I added, “And yes it has to be beer.”
She pulled her head up, chin forward. “You will have to pay more for that.” She shrugged. A gave her a still stare making it look like I was considering her proposal. It felt like the proper thing to do. I did not want to come across as too keen.
“Game on,” I grunted and she welcomed it with a snort.
I went and bought four pints of beer, carefully calculated. She will drink three and I will drink one if I play my cards right.
“You go first,” I gestured, as soon as I sat down.
She roamed her eyes and fidgeted. “What got you so upset?”
I grabbed a beer without hesitation and downed it. She opened her mouth to speak, but I silenced her by raising my hand. "My turn," I burped. "What is the name of the ‘oke behind you?”
She glanced at him. “I don’t know?” she replied, scowling.
“Drink.” I pushed a glass to her side of the table.
“No,” she shook her head.
Puzzled, I gave her an inquisitive look.
“I answered, those were the rules. At least that is how you put them out. As long as I give the answer I don’t have to drink,” She protested.
“Well, I forgot to mention that it has to be right or true.”
“Well, if I had known downing was punitive I would have went and got his name.”
I grumbled. “Okay then. Next time alright?”
She nodded her eyes still retaining what was left of that spark of defiance. I felt her disappointment, I was too agreeable for her taste. She glanced at the floor again. When she pulled her face up again I knew that was going to be a tough question.
“Are you trying to get me drunk?” It hit the bulls-eye. And she could see it in my face how unexpectedly right she was, she was not oblivious to that. A smile flickered across her face, appreciation of her small victory.
MacFearson sniggered. “Guess we in trouble.”
“Tell her the truth, Sands!” said Macxermillio.
Macfearson leered at Macxermillio for a while then his face softened into a contemplative gaze. ”If you drink it she is going to get more edgy.” He glanced at her. “See she is already quite restless like a hell hound in this type of weather.”
Macxermillio’s gaze shifted towards me. “Tell her the truth.”
“Well I hate to say this but I agree,” Macfearson blandly contributed. He put on a sly smile and added,” Well…tell her half the truth. You do want to dope her, at least give her that much and we chilled. She doesn’t have to know what we got in store for her for the rest of the evening.”
“Like we would have a plan without telling you at all,” Maxcermillio said.
Macfearson laughed. “Believe me we have a plan. Maybe not with you, but we do!”
Macxermillio grabbed me by the shoulder. His questioning gaze striking me.
I raised my hands. “We have no plan whatsoever, okay?” I explained. “Don’t let
Fearson play you. You know how he is.”
“Then tell her the truth. Tell her why you getting her drunk. Why you are here and why you feel she has to be doped before she can hear it! Ask the questions and open her eyes and see what she has to say. See where this road is taking us,” said Macxermillio, all the while shaking my shoulder into what seemed like a shrug.
Macfearson sulked, pain on the fringe of his cheeks. “Like she will believe,” he groaned, something he rarely did unless he was hurting.
Lifelings never got it, which is why Macxermillio was in the wrong here.
“Maybe this time there is a point,” Macxermillio murmured, clearly not trusting his own words. Casting doubt to whether he believed it at all.
Unsettling silence hung between us. Macfearson’s head drooped. Macxermillio sighed. And I shook my head.
“Are trying to get me drunk?” Kim repeated, her smile implying she took my silence and gesture as a yes. I could not help but smile guiltily. Admitting defeat.
“Yes!”
She laughed gaily, the laugh was infectious. There was no telling what was on her mind even when she pulled her head back up to face me. I was clueless at how she would react to that.
“Your turn,” she said, no sign of how she felt.
I took a moment and then asked, “Who is the president of Sri Lanka? “
She frowned at her hands and then fidgeted. She wished she knew, but it was clear she didn't, she looked hard into her hands as if somehow the answer would materialize.
“Drink up.” I grinned.
She snorted her defeat and downed her first drink. Macfearson hissed a yes, Macxermillio cleared his throat excitedly. She downed it with no difficulty at all which I never expected from a chick at all. Maybe prostitutes were used to men being this way. Men who seek to have some fun time before the real feast begins. More like appetizers. Maybe men who needed affection and company just hired her to hang around with them for the duration of the evening.
Maybe she just loves beer. Period, I thought, She is not reluctant to drink beer, but something is definitely on her mind…she wants me to pay more. “Right?” I concluded my thought audibly.
Macfearson nodded.
She was roaming her eyes again, a gesture that was distinctly hers. I could not figure out what it meant yet. There was something frisky about it and quite solemn at the same time. A token of some sort. There was a prophylactically clever aspect to all of this. With that observation, I suddenly felt my heart skip inducing a wave of a pitiful feeling, that rolled to my stomach and receded. The circle occurred over and over again making me lose my appetite.
“Your turn,” I said, surprised at how my voice came out. It was roughly out of breath support, almost a whisper. In simple words weak. I wondered if lifelings ever felt like that. If they did I refused believed it was to such a degree. Life would have been lived differently by them if that was the case. They would have time to think of a whole lot more than purpose and meaning of life, and stop answering such questions with unsatisfactory evolutionary science like it had the gist of the point to all of existence after all. Guess no one can know what they cannot know my nature. Of course, we were an exception. Being called weird and freaks all our entire life just proves it. We were just at the fringe of what they cannot begin to comprehend.
“Do you masturbate?”
It went silent again.
“She knows what questions to ask, doesn’t she?” Macfearson remarked.
Macxermillio nodded in agreement, amused.
She studied my face, she shrugged, quickly shifted her glance to the beer and back to my face in a suggestive manner.
God, she is so much fun. I thought.
“Yes,” I answered. Not what she expected I would do from the drop of her shoulders. I felt naked, I told her one thing I never told anyone not even to myself alone.
This is how it must feel when someone admits a fact they are in denial about, like their gay. This must be the relief and shame that engulfs you like mist. And then goosebumps follow like you have confessed your love to a girl you love. Never thought answering such a question would be such a romantic endeavour.
Kim smiled. Blushed like I had told her she was pretty but, honestly, I was the kind of guy she would only give a chance if he proved himself. Something foreign came upon me then, a compulsion to get to know her, no agenda, just her. It felt like being drawn in.
“What is your surname?” The feeling had overwhelmed me.
“Besert,” she flicked her hair and shifted her head to the side exposing her neckline. It was though her voice was the sweetest thing I had ever heard suddenly, the kind of a classic tune I would want to hear for eternity chanting absurdities at me. It was the equivalent of semantics to words, it breathed life.
“What are you doing?” Macfearson demanded, sensing the change in tone.
“Don’t worry she is the perfect sample. She is exactly what we need,” I heard myself lie as if in the distance, anything to deflect the distraction.
2
“What you been up to?” asked one of the two girls who came to check on Kim. Friends who seemed full with vigour and joy, nonetheless of the same oblivious herd. She cast an empty glance at me and returned back to Kim showing not acknowledging my presence in any way. Not even a nod. Felt like I was a fly. The same rejection and judgment was reeking from her. Nevertheless, my face was not congruent to my distaste for her.
They chatted among themselves, private girls’ talk. It was accompanied by gasps, controlled giggles and wry smiles. I grew impatient with every feminine hand dance they did. They maintained strong eye contact, something that I always found inefficient about women. As far as they were concerned we were not here, they were absorbed in whatever nonsense they discussed. It was very disruptive and disrespectful.
As I shifted my gaze towards Macfearson he was shuffling his feet and biting on his sleeve. He glanced at me briefly feeding off the little of patience I had. It was just darn right annoying. And in a while I suddenly got back to noticing the other people in the pub. The smokers in corners. People around the bar trying to get their next heavenly invitation. Some climbing up and down the stairs. It was a happy place there. People talked loudly, laughed and seemed to be on some enchanting gas which couldn't affect me. As I scanned through the cigarette mist the people exuded a deep connection and thrill as if something had brought them there to witness a spectacle. Of course, they were students like me but what I sensed was soulful unity. It escaped the range of human comprehension but was close enough to experience intuitively. It was the lifeling fabric sealing them like a shroud, forming an organ. Outside of the sheath dwelt all the pain and wretchedness, they were not protected from it. They were merely blinded from it.
Perhaps blindness is a form of protection.
And from the speakers coincidentally spoke the voice of Lil Wayne:
… but wisdom is bleak, and that’s the word from the wise…
And what were we?
3
Some fits of intuition are like a wave in the fabric of reality. Not just a wave but a sign of transcendent forces at work, weaving and driving us towards some direction. The frequency reaches certain sensibilities and its nature is an indication of the hands at work.
“Can you feel it? You must have had a touch at it, that fabric,” Macfearson mused.
It had been a minute since we moved from the table for our own private conclave. We shared the same peculiar experience, it ran a thread through our hearts. Hot and impaling.We stood in disconcerting silence, each whirling in their own supercharged thoughts. I just stared at my feet all the while, wondering… struck and almost impervious to the kind of cogitation it required at the moment.
“It is trying to drive us off course?” Macxermillio added to the frustration, a heavy tone. His distress presenting itself as mourning upon his face, because that is what it felt like to lose a project embroiled with blood and souls. Our blood and frustra
tion this time around. Mourning for what was imminent.
“I was there for a second, at the fields. And…” Macfearson’s voice trailed off, clearly a secret he was uncomfortable sharing but this moment demanded it and he was afraid it could be too late to be sharing now, if not close.
We were stormed, Macxermillio more than me because...
“Why didn’t you tell us?” Macxermillio scolded, his eyes narrowed and rebuking.
“Because…well,” He chuckled dryly, maybe at his stupidity or he was just dumbfounded.
“I saw it too,” I involuntary confessed. My skin shimmering already, waves flowing through it. Ripples that were unnerving. I cringed in anticipation of a scolding from Macxermillio.
However, Macxermillio was daunted into silence, understanding how futile his frustrations were in addressing the real problem – maybe understanding too that his anger might interfere with any attempt at a solution. “It is enticing, isn’t it? Trying to show us what we may be throwing away.” His eyes glittered.
I dropped my shoulders and drifted…
Chapter 9
1
There was stinking heartfelt silence, my eyes fixed at my feet. It was just between the three of us, adeptly localized by an almost sorcerous nature. Now we were the ones preoccupied, transfixed and oblivious to the rowdy life of the bar. There was a strange feeling lurking about, much like the calling. Creeping in like an illness. Grass through the cracks. I felt my stomach lurch into my chest, asphyxiating. I was drowning in it, paddling to keep my head above it. Terrified of what might happen if I gave in. It was eerily familiar, a calculating little thing that would consume me. Of course I knew how it would end, and I did not want that… not here, not now.
"What was it like?" Macxermillio asked eagerly. His eyes gleaming with what looked like dismay. Awestruck more than anything. That much was evident in his voice, but he was like one who has lost grasp of adequate consciousness.