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This story was written by Durba Biswas in response to the following prompt:
Random Sentence: Pick up the nearest book of fiction. Go to page 124. Read the fourth complete sentence on that page. Make that the first line of your story.
The book closest to Durba was 2061: Odyssey Three by Arthur C Clarke.
by Durba Biswas
“You sound like a cop,” said van der Berg with a grin, not intending it the least seriously. Barbie van der Berg was my best friend through the first twenty-two years of my life. She hated being called Barbie and so we all called her van der Berg or Vander for short. Right now, she is in the passenger seat of my ‘mom-car’ with her feet on the dashboard and a slim joint between her fingers. The windows are rolled up to near top to avoid fast-burn. It is 2 am and we have been driving down the coastline road for hours. Usually, I would be sleeping at home with my boyfriend of seven years and our two dogs. But tonight I am driving down to the airport with Vander.
I turned to her and said, “Sorry Vander, the petrol station is right up ahead and I don’t want people there to smell the joint.” She blurted out a snort laugh. “Lee, you can’t even call it weed? Man I thought you would have become less of a prude by now.” She tapped out the joint and put it back in her almost-empty Marlboro pack. I rolled down all the windows. “Fuck I am dying, close the windows!” I turned to look at her, she had curled up her thin shivering body into the passenger seat with her large green sweatshirt and faded blue jeans almost swallowing her. She had chopped off her long hair years ago but now I could see the stiff tufts of new hair peeking out from under her hood. If it wasn’t for the salt and pepper in her hair, it would have been hard to guess that Vander was almost forty. “Fuck sorry! Wait let me roll these back up,” I said to her as the rear windows rolled up. By the time we pulled up at the petrol station, the chilly winds gushing through the car had taken out all the smell but had also encouraged our bladders to burst. Vander jumped out as soon as I turned off the car and sort of ran towards the loo. I stepped out and dug my hands deeper in my black bomber jacket and stretched my legs.
Vander and I had been out of each other’s lives for most of our thirties, but growing up we knew everything about each other. I came from a family of divorced parents and garden-variety childhood traumas. She came from a family of divorced parents, sexual abuse, and manipulative relationships. So we had a lot to bond over but I had also convinced myself that because her life had been worse than mine, my problems could never be as bad as hers. Ergo, I had assigned myself as the default agony aunt in our relationship – and it seems I haven’t broken this terrible habit yet. If I were honest, being friends with Vander was like being on a roller coaster. Her highs were high and lows were low and I ebbed with them. At twenty-two, I left our dinky town for the city to do my masters and move in with my then boyfriend. At first I missed her like a rush. The phantom pain of her absence was constant and felt like it would never stop. But it did. It took a few years though. The pain slowly went away, our lives diverged, and we drifted apart. I had only known about her life through common friends. She had worked as a technical writer, and a designer, she even wrote a children’s book. She had been in love a few times too.
In the last few years, news of her came sporadically and none of it great– her father’s death, breakups, depression, breakdowns, medication, and then tales of Vander with alcohol in her hand at parties and dinners and even breakfast. She wasn’t doing well and I wanted to reach out to her. I almost called her one day but I couldn’t do it. It terrified me, her unfiltered agony. Then a week ago I got a call from Vander. I almost did not pick it up but then I did. “Hey Lee!” she sounded exactly like she used to – excited, warm, lovable. I felt relieved. “Hi Vander! Long time babe. How come you are calling me after such a long time?” I said feeling suddenly giddy. “I am in your part of the town for a few days next week, and I thought we could catch up,” Vander said, and this time I caught the slur in her voice. I said “Sure, I would love to!” before I could process what was happening. “Cool, I will reach on Saturday and then I have to leave for the airport early in the morning on Sunday. I can’t wait to see you and find out what you have been up to.” My sense of giddiness was replaced by dread. “It’s only two days” I reminded myself. “Yeah, I want to know what you have been doing these past ten years, Vander. You have been all over the planet it seems,” I replied. Vander laughed at the other end. “Yeah man, it has been a trip and a half, I will fill you in when we meet. Bye Lee! See you soon.” I was still holding the phone when I heard the click.
We stayed at the Holiday Inn by the beach for those two days. I told her I wanted to spend time with her without distractions, but the truth was that I did not want to bring Vander into my life. Our friendship had been airlessly tight and messy, and I don’t think I am strong enough to get too close. Vander told me about how her father died (bowel cancer), about her breakups, depression and then losing her job, and how she had been couch surfing for eight months in different cities with friends. I told her about my job, boyfriend, and dog babies – not in detail though. We also drank a lot through those two days. Vander smoked up a lot. As for me, I suddenly started having panic attacks after getting drunk. Vander tried to soothe me but it only made it worse so after the first two times, I drank only beer and drank it slowly. It was all surreal and I had to look at the pictures of my boyfriend and dogs to remind myself that I was not twenty anymore.
I felt Vander’s cold hands as she hugged me from the back. It brought me back to the gas station. “Hey I am done, and look I got us a few treats for the road.” I turned around to see her holding up a two-litre bottle of Coke and at least seven bars of Nestle milk chocolate. I suddenly felt scared. Like I was fourteen again and she was calling me about her parents’ fights and how she was cutting herself because the pain felt like relief. Back then it was two of us against the world with our wooden swords and all we needed was each other. I couldn’t do that anymore. “Hey you ok Lee? You look terrified.” I blurted out “You surprised me, that’s all. I really need to pee. Was the loo clean?” Vander was already eating from one of the chocolate bars. “Yeah, it’s pretty clean, just make sure to stand back from the sink, the water splashes.”
I got up to leave and then suddenly I felt like I had to hug her, like this was the last time I would see her. So I turned to her and hugged her as tightly as I could. Vander at first seemed surprised, then she relaxed and hugged back. I think I hugged her for hours but maybe it was just for a few seconds. Vander looked at me and said, “Oh man, that was a good hug. I missed it, you know, your bear hugs.” I gave her another tight hug and quickly turned to walk to the loo. Vander was right, the loo was pretty clean but I had no wish to spend a second longer than necessary. By the time I walked back to the car, Vander was asleep in the passenger seat, with a half-eaten chocolate bar on her lap and the opened Coke bottle on the floor. I carefully got into the car, picked up the bottle and put it in the back seat. I started the car and let her sleep till we got to the airport.
By the time I drove up to the departure gate, it was already 4 am. “Vander, wake up, we are here.” I tapped her shoulder. She was awake at once and looked at me. “Sorry Lee, I slept through the whole ride, but to be honest, I was out of it by the time we were at the gas station. I don’t remember most of last night. Maybe I should quit the drugs and the alcohol, huh Lee?” She looked at me and gave me a small smile. It was the same smile she gave people when they asked Vander about her parents’ divorce when we were fourteen. It was nothing like her heaving sobs when she told me that her mom had moved out. I said “Yeah you were fast asleep and I figured a long nap would help,” not knowing what else to say. She smiled and said, “Thanks Lee, that was one of the best naps I have had in a long while, but I guess it’s time for me to go in, the check-in is about to end.” Vander turned in her seat to get her backpack from the backseat. She collected the untouched chocolate bars and started to put them in her bag, and then stopped and took one of the bars, turned to me and said, “Here, I didn’t get a chance to get you anything but I know you used to love this stuff.” I had stopped eating chocolates over five years ago – trying to lose weight. I took the bar from her. “Thanks Vander.” It was still warm from her touch.
We stepped out of the car into the chilly morning air right outside the nearly empty departure gate. Vander had placed her backpack at her feet and took out her joint. “Just one drag, I need to throw this away anyways,” she said as she dug into her pockets for her lighter. “Sure, I have a spray freshener in the boot, in case the smell is too strong.” I said. Vander nodded and cupped her palms around the joint to light it. She took a long drag, held it in, and let it out slowly. The smoke dissipated in the chilly breeze almost instantly. She put out the joint, and then tore off a piece of the Marlboro carton and clumsily wrapped the joint in the pale gold foil and put the lighter and the wrapped foil in her jeans pocket. She bent down and stuffed the Marlboro pack in her bulging backpack. She straightened and looked at me. “Time for me to go now. I really loved seeing you again Lee. I am happy that you got the dogs you always wanted,” she said with a smile.
Time seemed to have stopped and we were the last two people in the world. I wanted to hug her but now it felt awkward. Vander stepped forward and gave me a small hug. “Take care Vander, I wish things were different,” I said, trying to not cry. “Nah Lee, don’t be sad, give my love to your boyfriend, maybe I will meet him one day.” She gave me a quick peck on the cheek and let me go. I stood there in stillness. I felt like if I moved, I would cry, if I cried, I would do something irrational like beg her to stay. So I stood still and watched her as she picked her backpack and walked towards the gate. I saw her take out the gold foil and the lighter from her pocket and throw it in the garbage can. I saw her showing her ID to the security at the gate, then she went inside and I could not see her anymore.
I stood there for a long while, afraid to move. Then suddenly, I could not stay there a moment longer and I had to get out fast. I jumped into the car and closed the door. I sat there holding the steering wheel, white-knuckled, surrounded by Vander’s presence — the lingering smell of smoke and sea, a barely touched bottle of coke, a half-eaten chocolate bar, and her shoe print on the dashboard.
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Here’s how Durba Biswas describes herself: Durba Biswas loved every bit of the clear writing course. She is an environmental researcher by day, brimming with stories she hopes to pen down. She wrote this sitting on a sofa surrounded by her dogs.
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Art by Simahina.
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