The Memoir

by Vaibhav Reddy IVN

  The words put an end to his calm, which he boasted by smashing the glass against the wall, few inches to her right. The sudden maneuver startled her and she collapsed onto the ground still leaning to the doorway for support. Rick was terrified and ran up to his mom. In the process, he stepped on the broken fragments of the glass and wounded himself. Evelyn let go of her anguish and rushed to Rick’s aid. She lifted his foot gently and plucked off the bloody broken fragments off his sole. Jeremy too rushed to her aid, but she gently shoved him away.

  ‘Stay away from me and my son!’ she yelled.

  Jeremy sat down on the ground and watched her pluck the fragments.

  ‘What a filthy bastard you are,’ she yelled, clawing his face.

  The remark washed off his feeling of pity, and anger took its place. He leapt at her, caught her by her hair and pulled her away. ‘Don’t you fucking bad-mouth me!’ he yelled, slapping her hard across her face. As soon as the action completed, regret replaced anger. He realized his mistake and tried to soothe a crying Evelyn.

  But she wouldn’t respond to his consolation. She shot him a glance of hatred and stood up. She picked Rick off the floor and paced towards the door. He tried to halt her, but she didn’t. She opened the door and stormed out of the house. She hauled a cab and sped away, as he watched over, over flooded by the sense of self-pity.

  BACK FROM THE PAST

  Jeremy woke up with a start. The sudden motion stressed his shoulder, which ached more than his head did. He held his shoulder for a few seconds, before reaching out for his medicine on the bedside table. He took the pills and chased them with water from the bottle. The sudden recollection of his memories left him feeling lonely and miserable. The room was brightly illuminated, which reminded him that he had fallen asleep unaware of his responsibilities. He reached out for his phone and woke the screen. It was three o’ clock in the morning. He found that he had an email from Tim Bronson. He opened it and found the profile of a Benedict Sni Roofer, whose face Jeremy found too familiar to forget. His status said “On Leave”.

  Jeremy smiled and dialed Adam’s number.

  THE NEXT DAY

  Jeremy grew impatient with every passing moment that he could not control himself anymore and kicked a passed-out Benedict in his ribs. The alcohol seemed to have made Benedict’s senses sluggish, for he responded with a slow pace. He opened his eyes very slowly, clutching his sides, and closed them immediately as the Sun shone his rays into the back of the van through the windows. Jeremy looked at Nathan, whom he had brought as Adam’s replacement. Nathan grabbed Benedict’s arms, rolled him onto his back and slapped him across his face. Benedict woke up with a jolt and looked at Nathan in turmoil. He backed up against the truck’s wall and leaned against it.

  ‘Where the fuck!’ he yelled.

  Nathan gestured in Jeremy’s direction, who wished him good morning. ‘Remember me?’

  Benedict displayed a terrified look, which turned into a smile and then into a laugh. ‘Is this about last year?’ He reminded Jeremy of a kid, who had caught Santa Claus leaving presents for him. He sounded like he was anticipating the moment. ‘If it is, you are welcome to get your ass kicked.’

  Jeremy relieved himself of his frustration by punching him in the face. The bones of his phalanges met with Benedict’s nasal bones. As agony escalated, he cupped his nose and began cursing.

  ‘Did you realize whose ass is getting kicked today?’

  Benedict shifted his attention from his broken nose to Jeremy. ‘There are many things you have not realized as of yet, Jeremy. And, there is a fair chance you may not realize them any sooner.’

  Jeremy pulled out the kitchen knife from its casing and directed it at Benedict. But he recollected his previous encounter with William and realized that he was deviating from his path yet again. He withdrew the knife away from Benedict and decided to talk.

  ‘How do you see that? I have realized that you people at SAF are a bunch of scoundrels, who have brought disgrace to other soldiers like us. What more do you want me to realize?’

  Benedict grinned and shook his head. ‘There is more than meets the eye, Miller.’

  ‘Is it? Like what?’ Jeremy asked, wiping the width of the shining knife against his sling. He thought he saw a faint drop of red on the blade, which reminded him of Hopkins.

  ‘Is this an interview? Look Miller, I am not answerable to you. If you intend to know something, you beg and get it. I know you better not to catch my balls at your scripted actions.’

  Jeremy hit his face hard with the knife’s handle and held his chin in his hand. He tugged the knife in his direction and said, ‘Your fucking life is in my hands. So, you better speak.’

  The fear for his life seemed to kick in, as Benedict’s smile disappeared and he swallowed hard. ‘What are you trying to convey?’ Jeremy asked. ‘Speak straight.’

  Benedict took a few moments’ pass as Jeremy waited, before opening his mouth. ‘You see, we rescued you from the accident and then filed you with treason. For your kind information, everything was part of the script. Your accident, your conviction, your torture, everything,’ Benedict said, licking his lips.

  ‘What do you mean?’ Jeremy asked instinctively, making and releasing a fist with his left hand.

  ‘Your accident was destined to happen. You see, the truck that rammed your car off the cliff belonged to Holland and Co. Transports, which belongs to Ethan Holland, your friend. The truck was setup to ram you off the road. Ethan had an agreement with Belfort Kyl Harper, Head of our division, to ram you off in the place where Belfort wanted. We were posted nearer to the spot to rescue you from the car.’

  ‘How can I believe you?’

  ‘Nobody speaks the absolute truth other than the man with his life at stake, Miller,’ Benedict said, wiping blood off his nose.

  ‘But, why would Ethan do that?’

  ‘Rumor circled that it was your father, who collaborated with him for it. I overheard Belfort’s conversation with Ethan, where he raised the same question and got Donald’s name in response. You must be a pretty rotten asshole for him to vote for that.’

  Jeremy closed his eyes and ran his fingers through his hair. He thought it repeatedly before the perfect motive crept up into his conscious out of his accessible archives. His eyes lit up and he scorned himself for his foolishness.

  ‘Anything else?’ he asked.

  Benedict shook his head in response.

  ‘What about your mates? Where are they?’ Jeremy asked.

  ‘I don’t know. After SAF’s dissolution, we parted ways. I am not in much contact with anyone except alcohol lately.’

  Jeremy nodded his head in agreement. He handed the knife to Nathan and went for the door. He jumped out of the backdoor and turned to Nathan. ‘Once you are done with him, dump his body at his house.’

  He closed the door behind him and lit a cigarette. As he let out a ring of smoke, he began formulating plans for his further actions.

  HOLLAND AND CO. TRANSPORTS- THAT NIGHT

  The exterior of Ethan’s office was pitch-dark as Jeremy exited the cab a few feet outside the gate and walked over to the building’s entrance. He looked back to ensure the absence of any witnesses and his gaze met the city lights, visible from the top of the cliff, where the office was located. He had not verified where Ethan was. He followed his instincts, which insisted that he was there. He had pushed his meeting with Daniel Xavier to the next day to accommodate this confrontation with Ethan and he did not want to get dissatisfied. He opened the main door and turned left into the corridor. The room at the far end of the dark corridor seemed to welcome Jeremy, who moved curiously towards it adjusting his left arm in the sling and his right hand holding his phone with the flashlight-on. The door to the room was slightly open. He reached out and opened it. He felt for the switch on the wall and switched on the lights. He hoped for Ethan’s presence.

  It took him a moment to adjust his vision to the light and find Ethan, in his usual black suit
, standing in the corner of the room with a cigarette between his lips. Jeremy took a moment to soothe his racing heart and sat in a chair.

  ‘Jeremy, what a surprise!’

  Jeremy managed a fake smile and said, ‘Nothing in particular. Just wanted to pay you a visit and strike a surprise.’

  Ethan crushed the cigarette butt in the ashtray and smiled. ‘How are things going on?’

  ‘You know life. Just as we begin enjoying life, it finds a way to screw things up.’

  Ethan pointed a finger at Jeremy and said, ‘You have got a poet in you, buddy.’

  ‘Well, we as human beings are habituated to have hidden talents and hidden secrets. Isn’t it?’

  Ethan did not answer anything, but eyed Jeremy suspiciously. He lit another cigarette and let the nicotine arouse him before speaking again.

  ‘So, what other talent or secret did you leave hidden?’

  Jeremy thought for a moment. ‘Well, I have the talent of killing people who trouble me and enjoy it. As for secrets, I want to kill you.’

  Ethan laughed aloud, which echoed in the room. Jeremy did not follow. Ethan dropped his smile and dropped the half-burnt cigarette into the ashtray.

  ‘Ethan, how about telling me your secrets and talents?’ Jeremy asked.

  Ethan no longer seemed to perceive Jeremy’s comments humorous. He stood still, looking down at the floor. Jeremy sniffed aloud, which brought Ethan back into the room.

  ‘Just trying to sniff some dishonesty, my friend,’ Jeremy said, getting up from his chair. He walked over to Ethan, led him gently to his chair, and helped him sit down. ‘Let me help my buddy over here. I know that your hidden talent is to hide secrets from your friends. And, the secrets that you have hidden from me,’ he said, leaning closer to his shoulder from behind and pinning him to the chair, ‘is that your company’s truck was responsible for the accident which claimed the lives of my wife and son. The funny part is that you were behind it. You collaborated with that bastard, who I call my dad, to kill me.’ He tightened his grip on his right shoulder and slowly moved his forearm across his neck to the other side. He stopped midway as Ethan began laughing.

  ‘OK Jeremy, you have found out. So, what do you expect me to do? Plead guilty and cry at your feet for pardon?’ He began shaking his head. ‘You want to kill me? Just like, you are killing those people from SAF? Well, good luck with that. Killing me would not make a difference whatsoever. You have already emerged a murderer and remain to be so. Killing me isn’t going to change that you were solely responsible for their deaths. Vengeance has driven you onto the path of insanity and there is no going back from this. What you need to give a thought is fear, not vengeance. You know nothing, Jeremy.’

  Jeremy loosened his grip a little. ‘Stop! Fear terrifies those who are afraid of the fear, not the fearless,’ he said, tightening his grip of Ethan’s neck. As it tightened, his limbs began flinging in all directions for release. The more he protested, more strength Jeremy put into his grip until Ethan halted protesting and lay dead in his seat.

  Jeremy released Ethan from his grip and let the corpse sway forward onto the table. With some effort, Jeremy pulled the corpse off the seat and dragged him all the way out. Once he was outside the building, he dragged the corpse to the edge of the cliff and kicked it down the slope.

  ‘Justice served!’ he yelled out into the night. He removed his mobile from his pocket and found a half-dozen missed calls from Adam and John. He switched on the mobile data to book a cab for himself. That was when the WhatsApp notifications acquainted him with messages from Adam and John. John’s messages consisted of photos of Daniel Xavier, the investigative journalist, who was digging up the shit about Operation Rochen Fort, and was in their confinement. He texted John to keep him in confinement until he visited him the next day. When he opened Adam’s messages, he was surprised. He found the photos of a familiar person and a woman, and below the photo, Adam had written- LIVE AT XAVIER’S HOUSE. VISITED WILSON’S HOUSE TODAY. DOUBT THEIR INVOLVEMENT WITH OPERATION ROCHEN FORT AND XAVIER. His concern was not the man’s involvement with Operation Rochen Fort, it was far more important for him.

  He called Adam, who answered the call on the second ring. ‘Adam, I want you to bring the man, whose photo you sent me. Do it immediately.’

  ‘But Sir, he was arrested by the cops this afternoon.’

  ‘I don’t care where he is. I want him as soon as possible!

  THE ONE WITH GLIMPSES OF PAST

  CYBER CRIME POLICE STATION- ELEVEN DAYS POST THE JUDGMENT DAY

  EVERYTHING HAPPENED SO fast that Daniel had no time to assess what brought him to prison. Once they shoved him into the tiny cell, which was going to confine him for god-knew-how-many-days, he began wondering what charges they must have pressed against him. He maintained his calm all throughout his escort to the police station. The silence terrified him. He wondered if it was about Donald’s murder or about his attack on the military officer in the parking lot of the channel building or about the theft of Xavier’s property or something else he might have committed during his blank era. If it was Donald’s murder, he knew that he was going in for a long time or might even face death sentence. However, his main concern was his helplessness when they ask him about his motive behind the murder. He wished they would at least take help of a psychiatrist to help him retrieve his memories. He considered it a lottery for enjoying freedom for these many days. If not for that offense, he wished for them to spare him with a little punishment for the other two offenses.

  As he seated himself on the bunk bed wondering about his options, the deputy passed by. He grabbed the moment and called out to him. The deputy seemed to be a nice person, for he turned around and asked him patiently what he wanted.

  ‘Sir, I’d like to know for what offense I am held here.’

  ‘Well, you are in the Cyber Police Station. You must be knowledgeable enough to know your offense. The comments you posted on your Facebook timeline were in criticism of the ESAF. According to the present scenario, it’s a crime. You will be detained for two or three days at least and fifteen days max.’

  ‘But, I haven’t posted anything on my Facebook timeline.’

  ‘When trouble finds you, you take to lying,’ he said and left.

  Daniel had a sense of relief for not being arrested for the murder or the other offences he was concerned about. He pitied himself for being arrested for a crime he had not committed. He sat down on the bunk bed and began pondering over what stood important for him now. There seemed to be so many matters on his plate that he remained in turmoil as to what stood the most important of all. He had the Operation Rochen Fort to chase. Given some time, he knew that it was not a difficult task. He had Cynthia, who he believed could uncover something by the time he left detainment. Then, he had the sins of his memory to handle, which held the key as to what made him kill the Prime Minister, and Margaret to assault him. The last, but not the least, he had to find out the whereabouts of Margaret, who was captured by the military. Sensing his aggravated vitals, he lied down on the bunk bed with his head resting on his left palm and his right foot on his left knee.

  He was striding the path leading to the Swelter’s Tip, when he spotted her standing against the railing of Swelter’s Tip. It was around 5.30 in the evening, when they usually met, so that they could savor the scenery of the sunset. The difference was in Margaret’s position, which was usually the bench facing the path. In that occasion, she was standing against the railing with her back to him. He had a sense of understanding. As he neared her, the sense of uneasiness aggravated.

  After he crossed the benches, he called out her name. She straightened up and said, ‘Daniel,’ and turned her head slightly sideways. Her long hair, flowing with the wind, obscured the view of her face. ‘Long time no see, Daniel,’ she said, still unturned. The sarcasm in her tone was obvious, which she did not mind hiding.

  ‘I am sorry for being late,’ he said, deficient of words to say.

 
‘You were late for two whole years. These fifteen minutes aren’t a big matter.’

  The punishment of hearing only her voice annoyed him. ‘Margaret, it’s been a long time since I have seen you. Why don’t you turn around and speak?’

  ‘You are annoyed that I haven’t turned around while speaking to you. Can’t you imagine my annoyance at being left alone by my boyfriend for two years? In these two years, haven’t you thought of me at least once?’

  He thought of the best way to explain her. ‘Margaret, please understand me. I wanted to explain you everything before I left. But I knew that there was no way to convince you to accept my decision. I-’

  ‘Stop Daniel,’ she yelled. She was weeping, which reflected in her tone. ‘Are you seeing someone, Daniel?’

  The question struck him hard like a bullet. He moved forward to her and stood behind her. ‘Are you questioning my dedication towards you?’

  She stood still without a response. He repeated the question and encountered the same response. ‘Margaret, please turn around.’ But she remained oblivious to his request. He was well aware of the impact his abandonment had on her. He decided to handle the issue with caution. He grabbed her arm gently and turned her around. All of his raging emotions seemed to evaporate at the sight of her face. It was not Margaret. It was Cynthia.

  By the time he gained back his senses, he was on the floor of his cell. In the process of falling down, he had banged his head on the floor and the pain radiated to all parts of his head from the scar on his temple. He picked himself off the ground and settled on the bunk bed, holding his head. Once his dizziness evaporated, he began evaluating the sense of the dream. Everything in the dream had its authenticity except for the presence of Cynthia, which made him question his sanity. As he sat there tiring to make sense out of it, revelation dawned upon him. The act of spending a long day with Cynthia had occupied his mind to such an extent that she began intruding his memories and thoughts. He wondered how a stranger had come to become so friendly with him, while it usually took him at least two days to become well acquainted with any living soul.