William Brown was not happy. In fact, he had about the foulest mood he could possibly get into. He just can’t get the image of that kid out of his head. Big black shiny eyes that could put cows to shame, glittering overgrown eyelashes—no supermodel with their artificial means can beat the kid in that area. Mr. Brown is supposed to be impressed. Instead he has an unsettling, unsure feeling in his gut. He just can’t put his fingers around it.
The kid is the son of Mr. Brown’s brother-in-law. After the untimely and unfortunate death and subsequently unceremonious funeral of his dear departed mother, the kid arrived at his aunt’s residence. Is it going to be his foster home? Mr. Brown didn’t want to think about it. His wife and her brother weren’t that close. In fact, they were out of contact for so many years. Without a warning an unknown kid comes into his home, like an omen. His arrival sounds hidden trumpets-- I'm here now and you have to take care of me. What's worse, the kid stares at him for long minutes. Perhaps for hours. Mr. Brown feels suffocated in his own damn house!
He gets out. Perhaps some fresh air will do him some good. He goes to the nearest cafe. He doesn’t really frequent cafes but for whatever reasons, but the proprietor of this cafe knows him quite well. That's a surprise. Seeing him entering, he asked Mr. Brown—
‘Ah, Mr. Brown. Coffee?’
‘Yes, black. No sugar.’
The coffee was surprisingly good. Mr. Brown only believes in home-cooked meals. This is one of the reasons why he doesn’t bother with cafes. But the coffee was good. In fact, it was the only good thing he had that entire week. He finished the cup, took his hat and coat and started for home. Something has to be done. His wife has to see reason.
*
Sid is not happy. His mother died a few days ago but that doesn’t seem to bother him. This new uncle of his went outside. Curious person he is. His aunt isn’t all that fun. That woman points kitchen utensils at the TV and barks, ‘Go and watch cartoons.’
Fortunately, his uncle doesn’t stay outside for long. He will come back soon. And then he can have his way with him. He actually doesn’t have to do much. Just stare at his face with all the earthly intent he can muster and that face will grimace, turning into a scowl.
Sid wouldn’t be here if his mother didn’t die. But he’s not preoccupied with it. Perhaps, he’s not old enough. He saw his father cry and that made him feel bad a bit. Old people shouldn’t cry.
Now all he does is roam around silently in his aunt's house. Doesn’t talk much. When he sees Mr. Brown, he stares at his face. Mr. Brown freaks out. Sid loves that look on his face.
Cring...Cring…
The doorbell rings. A sly smirk widens Sid's entire face.
*
It’s been seven days since that kid left. Mr. Brown finally was able to make his wife come around. Now Sid went to another aunt, this time from his mother’s side. Mr. Brown felt somewhat guilty for a while but quite happy at the same time. His peace was restored. This called for celebration. He visited that cafe a couple of times. The proprietor was delighted. His face brightened and those beady eyes were sparkling. Mr. Brown looks like an expressionless stone statue. Perhaps it is amusing to see a statue sipping coffee.
On the eighth day of Sid’s departure, his other aunt called on the phone. That woman has a squeaky voice, like a mouse in a gutter. Says, Sid fed something poisonous to her neighbor’s cat. That cat was enormous, even the neighborhood dogs weren’t brave enough to cross paws with it. It's a mystery how Sid was able to get that feline to eat anything in the first place.
Mr. Brown saw his wife leaving the room, excited, talking on the phone. About Sid.
He picks up a local daily of that day. Opens up the economy page. A groggy, blurred face started to appear slowly on the newspaper—a face that of Sid.
The End.
Photo credit - myself.