by Namita Singh
the room. The curtains are not pulled on the only window in the room, so I cannot see how bright it is outside. Neal has also kept the light on in the room. I look around once, for the first time taking in the room we’re in since I was pretty much out of it last night. Plain white walls, dirtying on occasional spots. A fading maroon carpet is on the floor, matching the curtains, which look equally faded. The bed is also not comfortable, but considering my state last night, even a pile of hay would have done. My eyes linger on the fading stains on the bed sheet. A squinching feeling creeps over me. I absolutely despise dirty surroundings. The urge to take a bath increases tenfold.
“I want to take a bath.” I announce.
Neal nods slowly, “You should.” He gets up, stretching his legs. “I had got some breakfast for you too.” he points at the nightstand where a wrapped sandwich sits, “It has gotten cold, but…whatever. You can eat it after freshening up.”
My eyes narrow suspiciously. Is it just me or Neal is actually being extra polite and tranquil with me? And did he say he got me breakfast? He had gone outside?
“You went out.” I say, my tone slightly accusing.
Neal blankly stares at me for a long moment. I mentally start preparing the verbal onslaught for whatever lame excuse Neal may have to support his rebellion. But surprisingly, working my mind so early in the morning is not needed after all.
After an eon of staring, Neal nods at me slowly, “There’s a 24/7 food stall right at the turn of the corner. You were sleeping, I was bored. Figured it’d save time.”
Now it’s my turn to stare at him blankly. 24/7 food stall? Bored? Save time? Where the hell is the ‘You’re not the boss of me; I can go wherever and whenever I want’? He hasn’t even used a single curse word either. My suspicion grows.
“Save time for what?” I ask with narrow eyes.
Neal hesitates, as if he is realizing that he said something he wasn’t supposed to, “Why don’t you freshen up? We’ll talk afterwards.”
“Neal.” I interject, “What is it?”
Neal sighs, contemplating. Then he rolls his eyes. “We’re going back.” He says, his tone hardening as he drops his ‘polite’ façade.
“Back?”
“Yes, back. I have already booked our tickets for the morning ship-”
“Whoa, whoa-” I snap, furiously frowning at him, “What the hell?”
“I don’t want an argument over this, Lichinsky. We’re going back and it’s final.”
“Are you shitting me?”
“No. Just freshen up, okay? We have to reach the port by 8.30. So, we’ll have to leave by 8.”
With that, Neal walks away towards our bag.
I watch him agape for a few minutes as he fidgets around. I shake myself out of the stupor.
“Neal-”
“Don’t.” he immediately says, his arms raised in frustration but his eyes are trained on the bag he is packing. “I don’t want to fight.”
I run my good hand down my face. I don’t want to instigate a dispute either. Already we are not on good terms, therefore I am definitely not in favor of worsening things. But his demand to return back sounds impetuous and sudden. I don’t blame myself for being weary. We had persuaded Neal for not going back with much difficulty yesterday. And today he has started again; the only improvement being his resolution to tag me along. Still, Neal is being needlessly impetuous. Or maybe he has some reasoning and I am jumping to my own judgmental conclusions. The bad thing is that I don’t have Aakir by my side right now. I hate being a pushover. I look at Neal, sighing.
“Will you at least tell me what made you decide so?” I ask quietly.
Neal falters in his work, his hands uncertainly hovering over the bag. He runs a hand through his hair, looking flustered.
“I just don’t want to keep running, okay?” he says.
“Nobody wants that. But that doesn’t mean that we make decisions impulsively.”
“I have put a lot of thought to it.” Neal says dryly, rolling his eyes.
“Really?” I say sarcastically. Is he kidding me? Overnight he has realized that returning is the best option?
Neal stares at me for a long moment then says in a quiet tone, “I said I didn’t want to fight.”
I open my mouth but close it. Because I only have snarky remarks or antagonistic responses to his words. But Neal is right. It’s high time we get over our differences and stop fighting every chance we get. I wish I could sense his aura. I am sure the pleasant feeling will help me with keeping an open mind, because right now I just feel that any opinion other than mine is wrong. The feeling can almost be compared to paranoia. Sadly, Neal’s aura is not going to reappear till today evening. So I’ll have to do with my paranoid and fidgety state.
Still, I feel obliged to put forth at least a feeble argument. Old habits die hard.
I look at Neal, “I don’t-” is all I manage to say before Neal is interrupting me again. It’s as if he knew I’ll be speaking.
“Aakir’s on lockdown.” he cuts me off.
“What?”
“I called Aakir last night from the telephone booth across the street. And thanks to the brawl in the hospital yesterday, he is not allowed to project from his human body anymore. The verdict on his actions is yet to be voiced, mainly because the council is busy preparing themselves for the Occultist’s visit. Apparently…not having us there is enough reason for them to make our life hell anyways.”
“Of course…” I mutter, quite shocked with the news about Aakir. As for the council being worried about not having us amongst them, that’s understandable. I don’t think the Occultists will be polite to see the vaticinator not amongst them. “B-but-”
“If we don’t go,” Neal interrupts me again, “Your father and grandfather will face the occultists and now even Aakir. I don’t know what the occultists will do to them, but I am sure it’s not going to be anything pleasant.”
I swallow at that. That is the part I have been avoiding to think about. Though Aakir kept saying that they’ll work something out, I don’t know if there is anything to work out with. The case is as open as day. Is there even anything to make excuse upon?
“Does it not,” Neal begins hesitatively,“seem like a good option to you because I am suggesting it?”
I glare at him. “It doesn’t seem like a good option because you’re thinking as impetuously as you were yesterday. It’s clear that the council is not going to be lenient with us. Definitely not after the brawl yesterday. Dad is working to keep us out of the loop; and thinking with a sane mind, I find his judgment okay.”
“Even if he would be the one suffering because of us?”
I flinch, not commenting on that.
“The worst case scenario that I can imagine is your father taking the blame for the Occultist’s death.” Neal says.
I look at him, shocked. I hadn’t even thought of this possibility.
“But,” Neal starts again, not even letting me get over the shock, “I don’t think your father is that stupid. Because if he admits to being the culprit, he’ll be punished…probably by death, from what I have learned of your customs. But even after that the occultists will not stop looking for us because I am the vaticinator and you’dbecome the culprit’s son. So…the case would remain unresolved. Therefore, I don’t think your father is stupid enough to sacrifice himself for nothing.
“But that brings us to square one. Maybe your father can distract the occultists for some time, but they’ll eventually start seeking us. Now even Aakir cannot come to help us escape every time. And if I had to keep running and hiding like this….then I would have just run away before this whole ordeal even started. At least in that case, I might have just lived up to my old age.” Neal pauses, “Not to mention, we don’t know what your family may be forced to undergo because of our absence.”
I hate to admit how much Neal is making sense. I go over his words for a few minutes, staring at nothingness. Thankfully, Neal doesn’t push me.
He simply stands beside the table, his hands crossed over his chest, allowing me to think over things clearly. But I believe he is aware that he has already halfway won. He has hit where it counts-my family. He is right. My family will come out to be in a compromising situation if this keeps going on. My initial worry over my family returns full force as Neal makes me focus on that again. Already Aakir has landed himself in a jeopardizing situation. We cannot run forever. But this abrupt change of plan seems too sudden….too early.
I run a hand through my hair, “Maybe we should wait for some time.” I half-heartedly suggest.
Neal shakes his head, “Aakir told me he broke Julian’s ankle yesterday.” I nod in confirmation. He continues, “So, the most unlikely day for any of those council therians to return would be today. They would probably want Julian to have a slight break. Though we are moving in their nest anyways….I would still not prefer to be under their scouting stares on the way back. Today is the safest option.”
I frown at air, thinking of the developments that can come forth with this change. But even through my dubious state, deep down I know that Neal is making sense. I was against Father facing harsh judgments alone since the beginning. He will not be happy with our decision. But as Neal said, either we go now, or we go months later. Or we get caught years later. At least with the first option I will have the reassurance that my family is not suffering because of us.
Though there is one thing particularly bothering me.
“Why