what?

The boat gently rocked.

He drew out his lighter and lit his cigarette. I noticed for the first time that he was wearing gloves. Perhaps he was hiding some old scars from his violent Hungarian past. He had lost his family there I knew. So I preferred to stay mum and let him do all the talking. He was a good story teller I must admit. He went on and on and on with the story. My legs were beginning to go numb. I was sure I would walk with a limp for ever, after this long ordeal and my thoughts drifted to how my life would be if I was to become a cripple. Meanwhile he spoke of Guatemala.

I thought it would be good as the police surely would not line me up and I wounld not be their usual suspect for every felony that happened in my area. Yes, that would be great. I was getting tired of being taken to the police station every time some crime happened to be interrogated. No don't get me wrong, I like cops. I would've liked to have been a fed myself but.... Anyways then I was thinking about the next logical step when he interrupted my thoughts.

"Have you ever seen him?" he stared into my eyes intently and asked me, as if I was the key to the mystery. I shook my head and replied "No".

He repeated his question "Have you ever seen him?" and this time stared into the space. Nevertheless I again answered that I had never seen him but had heard a lot of stories about him from people. He simply smiled at me. I did not think too much about his smile but now realize that I made a mistake. I should have understood its implications, but you see I was almost blinded by my own reasoning, which I had no reasons to doubt. And don't tell me that you have never committed the same mistake, come on, we all have. The only difference is in the number of times we commit the same mistake.

He continued, "I hate tension. Tension is a killer."
"It killed my wife and my kids once. I was really tensed.", I wondered what he meant by that. I thought maybe he was getting delirious, it was easy to become so you see.

We were there in that small room and the violent shaking of the choppy waters shook everything inside the stomach so wildly that all one would want to do is to throw it all out. The blazing hot sun and the hunger added to the whole mess.

He mumbled something next. I strained my ears to hear that and I soon realised that he was singing a Turkish song. He wasn't speaking to me though he was looking at me. I didn't know what to do. I for sure thought he had flipped it, flipped it for real.

Luckily for me, he regained his senses. He asked for another cigarette. I gave him one. I was dying to ask him some questions. I thought this was the best opportunity to do so. And before he could go ahead with his story I asked him "Have you ever avenged a death?".

He laughed, he laughed for a good few minutes and then calmly answered "No".

I asked him if he was in prison before.

"You do some time, they never let you go. You know. They treat you like a criminal. I'm not a criminal."

I murmured that I agreed to that.

(c) Deapesh.

, ,