Lucky Chap

“One more peg of Daniels, please”, sighed Dr. Jones to the bartender. The former sunk his face in the cup of his hands, and ran them through his unkempt hair, “Why me, O Lord… why me? How could she do this to me? I can’t take this anymore… I don’t want to live anymore! Just snatch my soul away from by body, O Almighty as you claim to be.” The bartender threw a disgusted look at Jones. “There you go, another one of those drama queens. Well at least they’re good customers”, the bartender thought to himself. It was ten in the night and it was raining cats and dogs. A stray cat tried to get a shelter beneath a wet old newspaper, with its eyes glued to the blinking neon of “Rob’s Pub”, on the other side of the street, blurred by the droplets of despair from the heavens above. Soon enough, people started flooding in, mostly due to the rain. I mean, how often do you get a nice excuse to grab a drink and forget about your bossy wife and your annoying children? “Honey, were you out drinking again?” “No dear! It was raining real hard and I needed a shelter so I walked into the bar next to where I was standing or I would have been drenched, and caught a cold. That would mean you’d have to take extra care of me. Now I can’t just sit there and not order a drink, can I? Besides, I was cold, I needed a drink to warm up…” , and the excuses keep going with occasional flattery. But our protagonist, Dr. Jones, did not have to worry about his wife and children. Not anymore. Lucky chap.

Dr. Rudolf Jones passed his doctorate five years ago, two years after which he got married to Lucile, his childhood sweetheart. When I met Lucile the first time, I kind of fell in love with her myself. She looked like an angel without wings delivered straight from the heavens. Her big black eyes were more expressive than a Salvador Dali painting. The pink flush on her cheeks would remind you of an image of a dawn where the sun melts into the orange skyline. Her lips were as bright as lucid pink rose petals. Her hair, like the waves of a sea during a tide. Overall, she was a complete work of art. Jones always had his luck favouring him. Good job, better girl and an even better ride! I so hated it when he flaunted his brand new Jag, “Check out it’s all new 5-speed triptronic transmission dial. And the leather seats are just yum. Don’t forget to check out the monstrous V8 bringing this baby to life…”, and so on. Honestly, I was jealous of him, even though we are like the best of friends since college days. Lucky chap.

It was nine thirty-five, and I was getting back from work when my beeper came to life, “Meet me at Rob’s. 10pm. Urgent. –Rudy.” I was too tired to beep back, so I just took a U-turn and drove back to take the West street towards Rob’s pub. Something had to terribly go wrong when Jones’ messages contain “Urgent.” When I walked in Rob’s I saw that poor thing ordering yet another peg of whiskey. I walk over to him, just to hear him whine, while the bartender threw disgusted looks at him. Then I called out, “Hey Rudy! I’m here now. What’s wrong, pal?” Then he turned around and looked at me. I wish he never did. He looked like he hadn’t taken a bath in years, his shirt all crumpled and wet from the drink he spilled, his hair all messy and obviously you would need a lawn mower to shave his beard by now. A perfect disaster. “What is it, buddy?” I asked Jones. Dr. Jones sobbed, “Ran out of money. Care paying for the drinks?” “Erm.. yeah sure, why not?” I replied, reluctantly. “Thanks man, you’re the best”, he smirked. He always had me, that jerk. Now he doesn’t even have to pay for his drinks. Lucky chap.

He started, “It’s about Lucile.”
“Tell me about it.”
“No, YOU tell me about it.”
“What? Me? Why? Huh? You called me in here… wait WHAT? ME? WHY?”
“Well you should know better.”
“Dude, look, you’re totally high. Let’s just go home and…”
“Don’t change the topic man, don’t you DARE change the topic. All these years I thought you were my best friend and now you betray me?”
“What? I didn’t do anything. What in heaven’s sake are you talking about, Rudy?”
“Lucile. You stole her away from me.”
“Who, ME?”
“Yes, she deserted me, and she took her Jag…”
“Wait a minute, the Jag was hers? Why you double-crosser, you said it was…”
“NOT THE POINT RIGHT NOW, OKAY?”
“Yeah yeah okay… so she ran away, why does that have to be my fault?”
“Because, she left this on the telephone table, that no-good…”
“Now now, calm down. Let me see that.”
Jones handed a note over to me. Damn that girl can write a lot. I read it out aloud, skipping unimportant lines in between,

“DEAREST RUDY,
WITH THE DEEPEST REGRET, I…. Uhmm…. Hmm… I DO LOVE YOU, I REALLY DO, BUT…. Mmm,… uh-huh…. Uhmm… YOU NEED TO UNDERSTAND… okay…. Mmm…. YOU NEED TO GROW UP… YOU ARE INCORRIGIBLE…. MEAN… oh my gosh… YOU SICK… oh no, I misread that… YOU SUCK… YOU SHOULDN’T HAVE WEPT WITH YOUR P.A…. wait, wept? Oh, I misread that too… blah blah blah,… YOUR FRIEND, CHRIS (OMG that’s me!) ON THE OTHER HAND….. okay this isn’t all that important (NOT)…. HE’S CUTE… AND HUMBLE… (cough cough)… AND YOU SHOULD LEARN FROM HIM… blah blah, yappity yap…. AND I’M TAKING THE JAG WITH ME (score!)… I LOVE CHRIS (CPR CPR, I’m running out of breath!) … I’M SO SORRY, ALTHOUGH YOU SHOULD BE THE ONE TO APOLOGIZE…. WITH LOVE, LUCILE….”

Couple of minutes of silence and a tension between the two of us made me feel a little sick. Or maybe it was the whiskey. “Dude, your P.A.?” I didn’t know what else to say. “Man, who doesn’t?” he replied. Suddenly I realized I was a loser. Not him. Me. That lucky chap. Oh no! Wait a second, I’m not the loser, now, am I? It’s me this time. Lucky chap.

Three years later…

“Chris, dear?”
“Yes, Lucile.”
“Are you occupied?”
“Oh yes, I’m really busy watching this amazing game of football.”
“Oh, good. Would like some pop-corn and beer to go with that?”
“Oh, Lucile… you’re such a nice…”
“UP! GET UP NOW! HERE I AM WORKING ALL DAY LONG, AND ONCE YOU GET A DAY OFF, YOU SIT AND RELAX???”
“Well, that was the purpose of a day off, you know…”
“SHUT YOUR BIG MOUTH, TURN OFF THAT TELEVISION AND HELP ME DO THE LAUNDRY. AFTER THAT’S OVER, GET THE MAIL AND MAKE SURE YOU WASH MY JAGUAR. AND THE COUCH WON’T MOW THE LAWN SO GET OFF IT AND GET OUT THERE!!!”
“Yes, Lucile. I’ll just get the mail first and then… erm… Lucile, can you write it down… no? Hey I was just kidding, I remember… (now what was I supposed to wash, the car or the couch?)…”
I stepped out, lazily walked to the mailbox, gathered the bundle of envelopes, and walked back. Then I suddenly noticed this envelope which read, “Dr. Rudolf Jones…” I tore the envelope in an instant and started reading it. Unlike Lucile’s, Jones’ letters are always subtle and meaningful. It simply read,

“Hey Chris,
How’s it going, pal? I moved to L.A. a year back. Should have informed you back then. Getting married to my P.A., want you to attend it. Will personally come over to invite you, buddy. Oh! I also got myself my own Bentley. Check it out on Flickr. Loving my life. I’m glad Lucile got married to you. She wasn’t my type anyway. I’m so happy for you, man. Good luck with Lucile. See you soon.
Your bestie,
Rudy.”

I stood there, staring at that letter for a couple of minutes. Then I looked outside at the Jag. Then I turned towards the kitchen. There she was, Lucile. The work of art. Lucile looked back. Correction, glared back. I looked at the torn envelope. Dr. Rudolf Jones. Lucky chap.

-Arka Prabha Paul

Humpty Dumpty Sat on a Wall

West Berlin, November 9th, 1989: The brightest of Thursday mornings spread out its wings of light over the city of West Berlin. Humpty Dumpty, jobless as usual, loafed around with his big brother, Empty Dumpty.
Empty was kind of a bully as he always threatened to crack his little brother’s skull or make an omelette out of him; but no less was our little Humpty. “You poach me, I fry you”, would be his usual reply to the rooster. Anyhow, both got along pretty well.
It was nine in the morning, and Humpty was already tired. He looked around and saw a big wall with graffiti all over it, across the road. “I need to take a break, brother. Let’s sit on that wall over there, across the street” said little Humpty. “No way am I crossing that… you know the rumours about how chickens can’t cross roads, right?”, replied Empty. “Aye, your wish! I can’t risk getting all scrambled inside. I need to rest” , said Humpty while he crossed the road, ran past Checkpoint Charlie, and quickly sat on the Berlin Wall. Peace at last. Or so he believed.
Humpty’s move towards the Wall did not go unnoticed to Checkpoint C. They immediately informed a sniper at an observation tower close by, that an East German egg is trying to escape. “So he thinks he can just climb and alert the East Germans to save him? Very very foolish, my friend”, said the sniper who aimed straight at Humpty’s head.
Somewhere in Friedrichstadt, Mrs. Dumpty’s heart thumped faster, as she heard the bang of a gun and saw a bunch of crows diverging into infinity. “When will these stupid East Germans stop trying?”, she exclaimed. Little did she know.
People started gathering on both sides of the wall to see the egg dead with its broken shell and yolk split over both sides of the wall. Humpty’s friends quickly recognized him and started protesting against such an act of violence towards a West German. The people on the east part of Berlin screamed out, “Murderers, you West Germans! You kill your own men!” The West Germans realized it was true! They started shouting out, “Tyranny! Down with the Government! No more deaths! Down with the wall!”
The protests alerted the Governments on both sides. They sent in their infantries, with a leader to solve the matter and try to get Humpty Dumpty back to life. They tried putting him back together, maybe that would silence the raging protesters. But at the end of the day, all was in vain! Violence spread out all over the city on both sides with protesters breaking down shops and houses, crying out for justice. “Justice to Humpty Dumpty! Justice to Germany! Down with the wall or down with the Government!”
With the issue this serious, leaders from both sides got together for an emergency meet. After hours of discussion, they pronounced the Berlin Wall to be taken down as West Germany and East Germany would officially become one whole Germany as it was before 1961. That was all that the ‘Germans’ needed to hear. Millions of people gathered on both sides of the wall and waited for the signal. At once they start to break through the wall by any means necessary. After hours of struggle, the Berlin Wall was finally brought down.
The next evening, the Germans lit candles in the memory of Humpty Dumpty, the Martyr. Half of Berlin attended his funeral. His tombstone read,
“Humpty Dumpty sat on The Wall,
Humpty Dumpty had a great Fall.
All the King’s horses and all the King’s men,
Couldn’t put Humpty Dumpty together again;
But Humpty Dumpty, the true German,
Brought us all together again.
R.I.P.
(1810-1989)”
-Arka Prabha Paul