[FATMAN & ROBIN: PART 2]
Once upon a time, in a galaxy far far away, in an oxymoronic village named Electronic-city in a moronic city of Bangalore, I used to work in a mundane IT job. It was a metro city on paper all right. But there was neither a metro nor any city where I lived. For Diwali night, we used to buy the cheap crackers from a Tamilnadu village 3 KM away. All the IT population there lived for Friday night with bated breath, and for the glitz and glamour that came along in Vijay Mallya's city of good times.
However, for me, this craving ceased to exist the moment I met Robin a few weeks back (read our first encounter here). Robin- my poor joke of a genie, a few millennia old storyteller spirit.
As a routine courtesy, flat mates politely posted in the WhatsApp group titled "402" individually that they are going out for the night. A subtle message to 'make hay while the sun slept' to anyone not single and desperate to mingle among us. Though somehow, deep down we all knew each other's relationship status, or the embarrassing lack of it. Irrespective, this little WhatsApp courtesy ensured a secure rendezvous with my pet ghost tonight.
At 9 o'clock, I knocked on the little scent bottle with a knuckle- "Robin paaji!" The bottle stirred and tumbled down to release a dark viscous cloud with Robin's vague face popping through the smoke. I nonchalantly grabbed a Lays chips packet from the table and inquired - "So, how's everything...err...inside the bottle?"
"It's stuffy in there, human. And lonely too. You are not quite a memorable company anyway, nothing the like the masters I have served previously. But it's good to exchange words with somebody at least in a while."- cribbed Robin, before complaining some more- "Ohh, and I was worried about that sharp neighbour girl of yours too. She could make you squeal about our little secret so easily. That girl really got on my nerves the last time. That was a really narrow escape last time."
"Well that makes the two of us. But trust me, she is pretty harmless mostly. Though, when angry she turns into an active volcano. I can disappear quicker than you in that moment. But worry not about her finding about us. Besides, thanks for your vote of confidence in my favor."- I returned the cribbing duly wrapped in sarcasm.
"Ah, don't be so naïve Fatman. If thousands of years on this planet has taught me anything, it is the unexplored depth of human nature. Understanding a woman's heart in particular, is like searching for a tiny pearl in Atlantic Ocean."- Robin became philosophical. A quick glance at me and he knew instantly he was about to lose me and it was prime time for the new story. So Robin began:
"It was the year 1929. America was just about to be hit by its worst economic crisis nicknamed ‘the great depression’, whilst already reeling from aftermath of First World War. Ordinary folks were finding it tough to make the ends meet. Michael Bradbury arrived on the American soil in those turbulent times with hope for a new start with a fresh identity.
Mikey, as he was fondly called in Manchester- England, was an RAF veteran and fought for his country in the WW1. Posted as an intelligence agent under the disguise of a pilot in the Luftwaffe, his cover was blown shortly after landing behind enemy lines. Tortured savagely for nearly 2 years, he was released in a soldier swap when war eventually ended. Mikey survived amputation of his left hand during the torture, which got him honorably discharged from the RAF. This four yearlong great war ultimately ended in 1918, but Mikey's war in real world had just began.
As if being an amputee military veteran rendering him disqualified for regular jobs wasn't distressing enough, he found himself hounded by the secret service under suspicion of being a double agent. His social life was in totters already, and now his personal space was in violation too. So unbearable became this intrusion, snooping, constant surveillance, that he packed his bags and set out for America, the land of opportunity. He believed he could make an honest living away from his scarred past here. But the misfortune never left his side here too. America got hit by the great depression in October 1929, with Wall Street crashing down and its repercussions felt across the globe. With hardly any jobs available there for even able bodied workers, one handed Mikey never really stood a chance.
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After surviving a disparaging bout of unemployment with utmost determination, fate finally relented. Mikey found his way to the capital city Washington DC at a newly built government facility and landed a contract for running a tiny coffee shop here. All was going as planned for him until one day, the unthinkable happened.
On a chilly winter morning of 1932, when it was snowing heaps and buckets outside, a young attractive girl stepped into his small café. She had the perfect milky complexion with just a hint of vermilion on cheeks, draped in a checkered skirt and a hat hiding her long serpentine curls. Mikey found himself at a loss of words, when she said: "Hello, good morning."
It was only when she tapped him on shoulder that he came back to reality and sheepishly put together an egg bacon and coffee breakfast for her. Being a former spy, Mikey was a natural at eavesdropping, though he wouldn't let it become a habit anymore. But today he desired to know more about that divine face which nearly cost him his peace. Mikey quickly figured out that the girl had come for a steno job interview and was not an American, well going by her accent at least. Her thick language reminded him of his old days as a spy in Europe- "Perhaps a German ancestry, Nah! More like a Dutch may be."
Anyway, she chatted her way up heartily with other candidates, while Mikey kept pointing his restless eyes and ears towards her direction. When she finally stood up for her turn, she looked back and stole a glance at Mikey. As if caught spying again, Mikey managed to let out an awkward smile and a nod wishing her good luck. To his immense relief, the girl nodded back and walked out leaving both the coffee shop and Mikey with a sudden sense of emptiness.
Later that evening, Mikey found the same gleeful girl sitting glum now in a corner of the café. [In all the later years of his life, Mikey was never able to tell how he got this insane courage. But that day] He stood up determinedly, put his apron aside and walked over to sit next to his mystery girl looking straight into her deep blue eyes. As if the lonely girl didn't need any words to initiate, she let her thick English and thick tears out instantly - "I don't get it. It is okay to reject someone. I mean it's not my first time this way. But this buffoon today tells he was rejecting me because of my poor accent. You tell me, if one can be good at stenography and if one can look decent enough, do they deserve to be humiliated like this? Is there something wrong how I look or sound? You tell me mister." And the moist eyes became moister.
Mikey took a gulp down, put his palm on her folded hands and began with a cough- "Ahhmm.. Only a blind or a heartless fella can say that you look anything but ravishing. As for your accent, it's not your fault honey. I understood you perfectly well though. And I can help you improve it if you would like."
The girl stared at this stranger who complimented her while telling honestly what she was lacking. She was smitten instantly with earnestness of this ordinary looking man missing one hand. Didn't say a word but didn't blink either staring into his sincere eyes.
"My name is Michael and I work around here. I am not from around here just like you. Rather I used to be a farmer in England before arriving here."- he concealed the military background conveniently.
"Whoaaa! I could have never guessed it. You speak such fine American accent. I wish I could do that too."
"You will girl. Real soon. But perhaps a cup o' tea for now?"- Mikey tried to comfort her. And she burst out hysterically - "Haha! A leopard cannot change its spots. And an Englishman can't stop loving his tea." Seeing her laugh again, Mikey too didn't mind his sudden lapse in choice of words. He just smiled and poured her some hot chocolate.
"I must apologise. I meant no disrespect Michael. Ahh, you are so innocent (chuckles). You just made me laugh I..don't..why..."- and she burst out laughing again. After controlling her amusement, she added politely- "My name is Evelyn, but you can call me Evy. I am so glad I met you today." This makes both smile warmly once again.
With the snowfall getting heavier outside, they both kept sitting and chatting there whole evening, exchanging their slices of life.
Mikey: "So where are you from?"
Evy- "I am from Vienna. I came here to live with my aunt after my mum and papa passed away last year."
"So sorry to hear that."- he pressed his fingers against hers while murmuring to himself- "So, Austria it is. Pretty close guess, Mikey."
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They met the next day again in the coffee shop. And the next day to that too. And then they spent the Christmas weekend together at Evelyn's aunt's home. Mikey started helping her with her accent; she began lending him a hand at the café; they both went together to the church every Sunday morning. In a few months, they moved in together, expressed their unsaid love for each other, and exchanged vows in the same church immediately after Evy's aunt passed away in 1934. If they were in love already before, now they became so much more. She managed the front of the café now where it started becoming profitable, while Mikey handled the cooking. Mikey in turn, used his earlier training to help her get rid of the thick accent splendidly.
Time was passing at its own uninterrupted pace, when on a spring morning of 1937, Evy received an interview call letter for a secretarial job for an influential senator in DC itself. Must have been some observant recruiter straying to his café one of these days. Anyway, he was pretty confident Evy would nail this job with her wits and charm. And when Evy trunk-called him on her selection, he was already preparing her favorite butter scotch cake to celebrate the occasion. Here were two specimens who came to this land of the opportunities in desperation and indeed fought their way to an honorable living. Mikey and Evy raised a glass that night to the starry sky expressing their gratitude to the heavens.
Mikey was once again sitting at the front of café, mostly alone, while a young apprentice was handling the kitchen. But he didn't mind much as times were getting turbulent and lots of political gossiping was happening in his café these days. Despite not wanting to eavesdrop, words here and names there he could hear easily. One could say he was under an ideal cover for gathering intelligence. But with Evy at her office, and the young apprentice not being much of a conversationalist, Mikey usually just kept to his own.
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One Sunday evening, his coffee shop was swarmed by customers. An unprecedented rush of sports tourists came to town for the much awaited NBA game. So many customers, so many orders, they quickly ran out of milk that evening. He couldn't leave Evy to manage the entire restless bunch at the front counter, so seating himself there he sent Evy for grocery hunting. Meanwhile when he was getting heckled, a delivery boy entered his coffee shop. He handed Mikey a yellow envelop, took his signature and departed swiftly. Mikey put it aside for the moment with all the heated customers dancing on his head. A tough day it was but he felt proud about how his small business was thriving. Closing the shop with a content smile, he picked up that envelop and opened it on his lonely way back home.
His spy brain was activated and he froze in his tracks the moment he saw no emblem, no postage stamps, no recipient or sender marked on both sides. It was- as if somebody just hand delivered him a clandestine letter. That too in a yellow envelop. What could it mean? A yellow parchment was used for a secret message during Civil war. Was it a coded message to him from someone who knew about his past? Mikey became restless at the prospect of his peaceful life getting jeopardized due to his sketchy past. He opened the envelope and saw below put together with newspaper clippings:
"RENDEZVOUS TOMORROW MIDNIGHT
FRANKLIN STREET
UNDER BROKEN LAMPPOST
ORDINARY LIFE NOT FOR YOU"
Mikey's heart sank. He stood there confused for some moments. Contemplating how and who did he slip up. He never even told Evy about his little secret. Then how did they get the wind? Mikey tore up the letter and reached home. Evy had set up the dinner table but he didn't have much appetite. With an excuse of a tired day, he pretended to sleep earlier than regular. But sleep was the last thing on his mind that night. Is it somebody blackmailing him to carry out his dirty work? Is it his old buddies from the secret service finally caught up with him? Is it the Germans enticing him because of his cover of a disabled Café owner in DC? May be I am over thinking it all. It could very well be just a practical joke. Mikey remained indecisive whether to follow what the letter said or not. The place wasn't much far away from his home or café. Yes, he must do whatever it takes to protect his little heaven together with Evy now.
Next day, Evy and Mikey left for office and café together respectively. Later in evening, when Evy telephoned Mikey before leaving for home as usual, he made an excuse that the café requires some plumbing repair in kitchen and he would need to spend the whole night there only. Around 11:45 in night, Mikey closed the shop and went out. He had made up his mind by now not to hesitate even while taking a life for keeping his little secret safe. He stood under the broken lamp at Franklin Street. He lit a cigarette and started smoking. Then he lit another one. By the end of his fourth one, he realized he was there all by himself for last 30 minutes. Perhaps it was just a prank after all.
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He heaved a big sigh of relief and turned to home. But the moment he entered house, he felt something amiss. There wasn't anything wrong he encountered. Everything was in its place, but for Evy. She wasn’t there. He called out her name, checked all rooms, bathroom and terrace. The veil of fear lifted just a while ago, returned to choke him once more. He went out in the street, back to the cafe. But Evy was nowhere to be found along the way. Whole night Mikey rushed from pillar to post, dialed her office and all her church friends' houses. But there was absolutely no trace of Evy anywhere whatsoever.
With an ominous thought building up inside, Mikey went to the police station. He lodged a complaint about his missing wife but didn't disclose about the letter or anything from his past life. The next few days he sat only near the telephone with one eye towards the main door. His young apprentice handled the shop by himself for a few days, while Mikey ran behind all the customers he knew in powerful positions about his missing wife’s case. Sometimes he felt it was he himself who brought this calamity on her. Where would she be right now? In what condition? Alive or... No, no, he can't think this way. Think Mikey think.
But after a month, even Mikey's hope began to dwindle. There was nobody among relatives anymore on both their sides. He started going to church almost every day. Perhaps to keep that diminishing hope alive with a dose of spirituality. But it was just becoming futile with every passing day.
Winds of war were breaking out meanwhile in Europe once again. Though America had not joined it yet, it was not untouched either. DC became the cauldron of all political activities. After 6 months of misery, Mikey returned to his senses. He needed to stand up for himself and survive in these turbulent times. His café was all that he had now. Mikey reopened it and occupied himself again. But whole day he would just watch outside the door for a suspicious delivery guy bringing ominous news. And every evening he would stare outside longingly for his fair blue eyed wife to return. But the worse came when it used to snow. Mikey was inconsolable and cried his heart out on those lonely nights.
He sold house away and gradually shut himself inside the café. Occasionally he would venture out to church, only to return from the stairs alone. He wanted to believe in existence of God, but he also felt betrayed. The old neighbors and church friends tried to keep his spirit and hopes alive. Despite their best efforts though, Mikey was now a lost man. He was angry, and conflicted. He didn't know who he should feel angry upon anymore. America, his home country, an unknown enemy, the Almighty, or perhaps himself? He realized he didn't care anymore whose fault it was. His loss and grief had numbed out all the remaining emotions inside him. One of these days, Mikey would go to the same lamppost he stood under that fateful night and wondered what if he had never left the sight of his beautiful wife. May be the fear of his past made him put his guard down and pay this heavy price. And Mikey lived on like this for next 8 years.
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The Great WW2 had been ravaging the whole world for long now. It started in 1939 by the German madman, the likes he fought against earlier. Tt was 1945 now. It had been many times over more catastrophic than the WW1. Finally an attack on Pearl Harbor dragged the USA into. And that followed by the destruction of Hiroshima and Nagasaki sending the world into shock and awe.
How far we had gone, driven blinded by the insatiable ambition of our chosen leaders?
Mikey heard it all from radio, newspaper, numerous customers chatting incessantly. And he couldn't care less. The war ravaging inside him wasn't over yet. That’s all that mattered to him.
On one chilly winter morning, when it was snowing heaps and buckets outside, a delivery guy entered his cafe. Mikey's dried up eyes lit up for a moment. But to his dismay, this guy left a registered white envelope addressed to Mikey's name. He went into his shell again while the now grown up apprentice dexterously managed the shop. Later in evening, Mikey picked up the letter, checked its exterior and almost let out a cry. It was addressed to Mikey alright. But the sender's address was written as: "Lamppost number 5, Franklin Street, Washington DC." Impatiently, he opened it and the contents of the letter left him horrified and speechless. This is how it read:
"My Dear Michael,
A day doesn't pass by when I don't regret how our fates turned out. Deep down inside I know you haven’t forgotten me yet. It all happened because of a misunderstanding. A yellow envelop and message meant for me came to you by mistake. I was supposed to be sitting there at the counter that Sunday evening. You must have figured out already what happened next.
I had to leave your side immediately to protect both of us, once my cover was blown. I was recruited as an active undercover German operative at a nascent age, and sent here to build a solid cover from scratch. That’s how we infiltrated enemy ranks. I could speak many accents fluently already. But that's when I met you- a goodhearted simpleton.
The secretarial job under the senator was no coincidence either. That’s where I silently collected intelligence. They used to send me a letter delivery every Sunday where to drop information for my handler. But when you picked up the letter that day, they panicked and I had to disappear to keep you safe. Now that the war is over, I can unload my agonizing burden of secret. However it will never be safe enough for either of us to meet ever again. You may still be under surveillance.
Before you burn this letter after reading (for your own safety), I just have one more secret to share with you. What we had together, the married life, the love (I know you cannot possibly believe me now, but) every moment of that was real for me. I fell in love with you at the café the moment you came and consoled me.
You are a good man Mikey. Kind of person I would share my life with. But please do not wait for me. I can never return to you in this life. Just know this. You will always be in my heart. If you believe I still possibly have one.
Yours Forever
-Evelyn”
Michael felt overwhelmed with mixed emotions. On one hand, he was relieved that Evy was safe, that she he wasn’t the reason for her situation anymore. On the other hand, he felt sickened at their charade of a marriage. But who was he to judge her, when he blamed his own past so long for her supposed ordeal. He would have done the same thing perhaps to keep her safe.
Only regret he had was, he could never tell her his own secrets. May be they could have disappeared together then. He was still far from closure, but Mikey knew he could die a peaceful man now. And he trusted Evy to be still in love with him. A woman’s heart is deeper than an ocean after all.
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I heard Robin’s long story with a sunken heart myself. “But is it a happy ending or a sad one?”- I exclaimed.
“That’s only for Mikey and Evy to say.”- Robin cut me short- “What I can tell you however is that Love is beyond mere togetherness. Love can only be measured in sacrifices you are willing to make for it. Not all love stories need a closure. Some can live with their imperfections too.”
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