One thousand one hundred and fifty words

Chapter eight: Stuffed animals (part one)

The watchman sat there on the wooden chair. A hue of amber from the bulb overhead shooed away the darkness outside. The black hair was all they could see from behind at first.
And then, his dark green costume. His shadow fell on the ground diagonally. The walls on the right were yellow, now losing its colour and ruff.
Nisha's flip-flops slapped on the stairs as she walked down.
She stood on the fourth step and said, 'Bhaiya.'
There wasn't a reply.
'Bhaiya,' she pointed up, 'We were upstatairs and the water was flowing.'
The watchman responded back silence. In that silence they heard the distant sound of water falling at the other side of the building.
A man appeared out of darkness. He was holding a big red bag, an orange coloured back pack. Nisha moved to one side for him to climb up. The man was in somw hurry. They heard his footsteps gradually vanishing overhead.
'Bhaiya,' Nisha tried again and looked at Stuti.
'Is he sleeping?' She said.
Both of them grinned.
Nisha was the fist among the two to go near it. If, by any chance, she would have known the thing sitting here was breathing no more she wouldn't have crossed past the first floor.
The hair shaded half of his leathery forehead. His brown lips were pursed together. A grey beard covered his chin and some parts of his cheeks.
'Hello,' Nisha said, 'The water is overflowing. We should turn off the motor.'
Ofcourse, he didn't move. He was dead. How would he? He sat there on his chair reading his news paper.
Nisha said him a couple of more times after which Stuti flipfloped in front of him.
She said, 'We won't mind turning it off ourselves. You should not make it a habit. It is your work to turn it off. Where is the switch?'
The body sat there.
'Stuti,' Nisha looked at her, 'We don't know if it is his work to turn off the motor.'
'At least he can say us something,' Stuti looked at him and then tapped his shoulder. He felt hollow when she tapped. She was shocked.
It was Stuti who first theorized that he could something other than a living human being sitting there. She found his eyes peculier. For instance, he didn't blink at all. Second, they weren't watery and shined like plastic. And again, it was all stiff and didn't move a muscle. Stuti tapped his arm and then pulled up his arm looking into his eyes in case he finched. He was unnaturally light. Like a big stuffed doll. He wasn't moving a centimeter. She tried to take his pulse rate from his wrist. They weren't any, she realised he doesn't have any blood vessels or muscles.
'What are you doing?' Nisha asked.
Stuti looked at her.
Both were confused. They weren't scared though.
Nisha grabbed her hand. 'Let's go.'
'Wait.'
She tapped his shoulder again, this time harder. When he didn't wake up she squeezed it. Her eyes grew large. She gave a short shout, put her palm on her chest. Nisha heard her flip-flopping up the stairs. Nisha looked at the watchman, turned and ran behind her. A sound stopped her. She turned back and looked at the watchman. He was still reading the news paper. Her legs moved again.
They passed the man who was carrying the red bag.
'Stuti stop,' Nisha asked.
Stuti stopped and clasped her hands together. Her fingers slipped into the gap between the fingers on the other hand and rubbed.
Stuti was sure it was not a living human. But what was it. She wasn't sure. That voice she heard that day, could that be the watch man's voice? She had no idea. Ideas scurried in her head like hungry rats, none of them able to trace a piece of cheese.
'Stuti, you scared me,' Nisha said.
'I-'
'What?'
Stuti stood silent for sometime.
'Let's go to our room,' Nisha said.
'N- O-ok.'
They heard foot steps. When they turned they found the man with the red bag. He stared at his shoes and walked up. When he was gone, Stuti continued.
'Let's go,' Nisha said.
They ran walked up and crossed the man once again. They stopped in front of their room.
Stuti looked at the door. Stuti saw she was hesitant. She heard it click open. Nisha closed the door and they went in. She turned on the TV and sat infront of it. She saw Stuti walking into the bed room.
Stuti came out again and gave herself a shake. She almost smiled and then sat down next to Nisha. She was worried, Nisha assumed.
'That was not a man down there,' Stuti said.
'Hm,' Nisha reached for the remote to turn down the volume.
'That was some kind of doll,' She said.
'Who?'
'The watchman Nisha, the watchman.'
'A doll?'
Stuti nodded.
Nisha turned off the television and sat crosslegged facing Stuti.
'Yeah, it can be. Why did you feel like it could be a doll?'
'I felt it. H-He is filled with stuff like small twigs, bush and stuff. Like, I don't know what's inside but I think it's something like that.'
'You-'
'I felt it when I touched it. Twice actually.'
'But it couldn't be.'
'Yes.'
'I have seen him coughing.'
'Heard him flipping the pages, me too.'
They looked at each other and heard each other breath.
'Nisha,' Stuti said, 'I want to tell you something?'
Her face could make anyone worried.
'W-what?' Nisha asked.
'I said you... I said you about seeing someone in the kitchen.'
'Yes,' she held her by her arms to calm her down.
'There was someone in the room,' she said, 'For real.'
Nisha swallowed and looked at her, 'I said you about the door getting locked automatically.'
'I didn't see anybody.'
Nisha watched her.
'I don't know why I said that,' Stuti said, 'I am sorry.'
'Then how-'
'I have something else to say you,' Stuti said.
'What?'
'You know you asked me how we got this place for so cheap.'
'Yes.'

The secretary's room was on the fifth floor. Room no. 506.
'Why are we here?' Nisha asked.
'I want you to hear this from him. I want you to believe me.'
'Believe what?'
Stuti pressed the bell. Nisha stood behind her listening to the muffled ting-tong behind the door.
'I want to move out of this place. I want to make sure you understand there is something wrong here.'
Nosha looked at her for some time.
Stuti was pressing the doorbell for the third time when he opened the door.
He was short in height, around five feet two inches in length with a balding head. Whatever hair remained now turned grey. He looked at them through his spectacles.
'Yes,' he said.
He seemed like somebody who had moped his forehead out of perspiration.
'Mr. Nagasesu,' Stuti said, 'I told you about the door locking by itself.'
He stared at them for a while.
'Come in,' he pulled the door ajar.
Nisha looked Stuti.
'No,’ Stuti walked in, Nisha followed, ‘I am here to talk about the apartment. A-About the things that happened here. There's something wrong with the watchman as well.'
'Sit here,' he showed them the sofa, 'I will be back in a minute.'
They watched him vanish behind a curtain and looked at each other.
Stuti looked around the house. It was spacious as compared to theirs. There was ample space for a set of three blue sofas to fit in with a table in middle.
The walls were cream coloured and there were three door except the one they came in through to leave the place, all of them aided with a purple curtain. As soon as her eyes were done with them they saw the decoration there.
'Nisha.'
'Hm,' Nisha looked up to at her to see that she was staring at the wall. There was the picture of the secretary. He was standing next to a black leopard, ferocious and roaring. First she thought it was a pet leopard and hence, not harming him. No no, it's not a real leopard. On walking closer, she found out the leopard was behind a glass panel and there was a tabloid below. Ah! He is in a museum. Her knee hit the table.
'Easy,' Stuti touched her arm.
'Where did he go?'
Stuti looked at the door though which he left, 'I guess we need to sit and wait.'
Nisha dropped on the sofa. Stuti sat next to her.
'The sofa is hard,' Nisha whispered.
Stuti nodded.
They heard tap water run somewhere in the apartment. The secretary appeared few minutes after the water stopped. Nisha observed his front hair was wet. He washed his face, she thought. Although, his face wasn't dripping with water. He probably dried it with a cloth.
'Tea?' He asked.
'No, we-'
Before Stuti could finish, he vanished behind another curtain.
The girls looked at each other. They heard a clicking lighter, then the flames from the stove and finally the sound of a utensil being put onto the stove.
'He's making tea for us,' Nisha said.
'I don't want tea.'
'W-we- I mean, the watchman?'
They sat there idle. Nisha ran her eyes here and there to pass her time. She found out there was a plant vessel next to the middle sofa.
The secretary reappeared after few minutes with a tray. It had two white cups.
‘Here,’ He passed the first one to Nisha and the second one to Stuti.
Nisha sipped her tea and then looked up to find that the secretary was missing.
‘Where did he go?’ Nisha asked Stuti.
‘I don’t know what’s going in his mind,’ Stuti put the cup on the table.
When the secretary appeared back he had a bottle of whiskey in his hand. And a glass.
He settled down. Put the glass on the table with a clang and started filling it up. Both the girls looked at each other.
There was no ice or water. He filled it up to the brim and gulped the whole lot down with a single shot. Some whiskey slipped down his lips and waterfalled down her chin. It dripped on to her lap.
‘I don’t drink tea,’ Stuti said.
He didn’t listen. Whiskey raced up to the brim of the glass.
‘Mr. Nagasesu,’ Stuti said.
The secretary turned at her. Air filled her lungs and he exhaled loudly. His elbow reached to wipe his chin.
‘You are late.’ He said.
Stuti’s eyebrows crept near, ‘Late.’
His bald head shined when he nodded. He put the glass to his lips and drained it down his throat. Nisha bit the inside of her lower lip. She secretly buried her nose under her t-shirt.
‘Late for what?’ Stuti asked.
‘Late for me. Everyone got late for me.’
He tilted down the bottle of whiskey above the glass. His eyes watched Nisha’s refraction on the glass turn yellow.
‘You don’t like whiskey. Do you?’
‘Hu?’ Nisha pulled her nose out. Her t-shirt flapped back near her neck.
‘You. Nisha. Your name, Nisha. Yes. You.’
She shook her head in negative. ‘No one drank in our family, so…’ She bit her lower lip nervously.
The secretary grinned. A nasty grin. ‘They say a drink can help you cope up with pain,’ He smiled.
‘I think we should move,’ Stuti said, ‘It’s already late.’
Nisha nodded getting up to her feet, ‘Yes, we should.’
‘What did you find about the watchman?’ The secretary asked and drained the third glass.
‘What happened to the watchman?’ Stuti asked.
The secretary wiped his chin again, then his nose. He sniffed.
Stuti sat down. ‘Y-You know there is something wrong about this place. What is it?’
The secretary smiled, ‘You want to know what had happened or what is going to happen?’
Nisha sat down staring at the secretary.
‘What is going to happen?’ Stuti asked.
The smell of whiskey was all around the living room. He made himself another glass.
Stuti asked again, ‘What is going to happen?’
‘Death,’ he said.
Nisha shifted on the sofa. ‘Hu?’
‘Death is going to happen. It’s inevitable now. Even for you. You are late. Even for yourself.’
Nisha tapped Stuti’s arm and signaled that they should move.
‘W-What do you mean?’ Stuti asked.
She saw a tear shimmer below his left eye. It slipped down his cheek. Nisha buried her nose in her t-shirt again. The secretary sniffed and closed his eyes.
He opened it again, ‘Where should I start from?’
‘The watchman,’ Stuti said, ‘What happened to him?’
‘He died two days after you came here,’ the secretary said.
Stuti’s mouth opened but nothing came out. Words fought among themselves at the darkest end of her throat, unable to decide which one should come first. It defied logic. The watch man was there, all the time. She have seen him, Nisha have seen him. How can then? Wait. Was he missing during the initial period? She turned to Nisha who stared back at her clueless. Who knows, she can’t remember. And who focuses on a simple life like that of a watchman.
‘He came here on duty two months before that. I came after a month. All of us are new here. No one lasts two months. If you are lucky, three months,’ he burped, ‘Oh, sorry, unlucky.’
‘How did he die?’ Stuti asked.
‘I found him in his small quarter,’ his adam’s apple ran up and down his throat twice as he drank, ‘His body was lying on the floor. All dead and cold. Flies were already swarming around it. He was lucky he was whole and they hadn’t feasted up on him.’
‘They who?’
‘I don’t know…’ his body began to tremble. He pressed shut his eyes and put his index and thumb finger on his lids. Fresh tears appeared. His shoulders shuddered when he wept.
‘Are you ok?’ Stuti got up and walked to him. She massaged his right shoulder. He had lean muscles. This body was surprisingly thin.
He didn’t reply. He shuddered and cried.
Nisha sat there watching the man with big eyes. Nothing made sense to her. It was probably a dream. A very vivid dream. With a vivid stink of whiskey from which they will wake up. Probably soon. Hopefully soon.
He stopped, sniffed and dried his face with his shirt. Stuti withdrew her hand. He poured another glass for him and drank.