I was tired of concrete. From where I came, there were tall skyscrapers and a line of greenery at the divider of the massive highway. It represented the modern age of meticulousness; the proficient structures and rules. It made me miss wood, the smell of a wooden house, especially when it rained. I always felt strange after the first rains. Later, I learnt about petrichor and eventually associated the smell to the feeling of welcome freshness.
I preferred my boat to be of wood. The cockpit however, was made of steel; hosting the wonders of technology. I had got a variety of features removed for the sake of my privacy and my love for primitive simplicity. I had to get it polished. It could reach five knots and I had anyway planned to use it for staying.
I knew I’d wake up late. She was up and I presume might have been guessing what happened. She did not wake me up; shy nature or maybe just the shame of waking up with a stranger. She was sitting on the deck, contemplating what must have conspired last night.
I woke up, helped myself to a cup of orange juice and poured one for her. I spared her the trouble of breaking the ice.
“You passed out and I had no idea where to take you.” I looked up to meet her eyes. The confusion was now evident.
“I passed out after getting you here and even I have no clue as to what they call this place.”
I had found the place many years ago searching myself a spot with solitude. The lake was formed by the melting snow from the hills. The pine trees were so dense that it barely gave room for any shrubs. It seemed beautiful in winters; but I refrained from the place then.
I went back to bed and resumed reading my novel. I wondered what took her time but she eventually came in.
“When can I get back?” She had a tone of ironic confidence.
“I go back next week, enjoy the beauty till then.” I did not care to look up. I generally love to notice the confusion but thought that the truculence would be uncalled for. She took time to reconcile her thoughts. Humans are not defined by societal sophistication but by crudeness in grave situations. People have very extreme views about abduction. It’s as if their logic turns childish; parents take unwilling kids to interesting places!
“I wish to go back, now.” Her voice was with a hint of fear and the typical ironic woman strength. I did not reply.
“Are you kidnapping me?”
“No, I just do not intend to disturb my plans for the week.”
“Just leave me at the bank and I shall find my way.”
I smiled and agreed.
I left her near the bank, the pines started almost nearly. The wind was cold though there was sun after a long time; made me feel like sitting on the deck all day with a shawl around myself. She asked me which way to go. I honestly didn’t know. I usually followed the swifts that usually came from the lake side. While going back I camped in the forest for weeks while I finally discover civilisation.
I resumed my novel that I had left for about a week. There’s something about thrillers; I never find them interesting. Its’ stories become redundant after a while and once you get to know the style, it becomes easy to foretell climaxes.
I spent most of the day lazing around reading and sometimes my usual Beethoven. I had just started watching Prison Break and was hooked to it. It was the perfect fight between Scofield and Mahone; two geniuses after each other.
It was four in the evening and it would have started to get dark soon. I thought I’d leave the boat after a couple days. The good thing about humans is that you can trust their general instinct.
I spent the next two days finishing Prison Break. By the end it had been dragged so much that it was no fun guessing what might happen next. Scofield’s death seemed befitting such a story. My acquaintances always felt sad about the death; I never reasoned with them about it.
It was finally time. I picked up my bag and went for the forest. I wished everything would go according to plan. She probably was too scared off me. I just hoped she’d have come to terms with the scenario and maybe start to cherish it by now. The forest was dense and vast but there were always signs, signs to take you towards more living. It was a long day ahead of me to look for my tree house.
Read Chapter 3: Flick the Dominos
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