Salmon & Fries

Chapter 3

He grabbed my hand from nowhere, made me wear my slippers and pulled me outside the door. He had never done that. He had never pulled me or as a matter of fact even touched me in any way. I saw his dad's old Moped scooter right at the gate. He rushed towards it, with his hand still holding on to my wrist. He caressed the seat of his scooter, turned around and hailed, "We're going to fly!" And in no way on Earth was I going to sit behind him on a Moped, and "fly". I loved my dear life and I would never let that idiot drive. We were illegal anyway. I thought of resisting him but before I could, I realised that I was sitting behind him, being taken somewhere. I don't even know how I ended up sitting instead of running away. While still in the state of confusion, the horrific scene of my nightmare clicked in my mind. The blood rivers. The shattered glass bits everywhere with the blood. The stream of red mixed with dirt. The arm. The fucking arm. I started feeling my ears go warm. I could feel my heart pound faster and faster. My throat went dry and I began to lose track of what was happening, everything was spinning slowly, just before Salmon jumped us up over a speed breaker. My forehead bumped into the back of his head and my ears started ringing. It wasn't such a hard hit, but yet it felt more painful than hitting a wall. And I don't know what was happening to me, before I could analyse or get back to my senses I would already lose track of what was going on and then suddenly come back to the present. He took me to this garden, called Joggers park and the name was ironic because you never saw anyone jogging, just aged aunties walking and gossiping. I remember the last time I had been here. It was with Salmon and his parents too. Back then I didn't call him Salmon, back then he had a name. After 4 years, the place hadn't changed at all. He took me to the corner most bench in the whole garden, under a big tree Peepal tree. Something was different about him. Something was different about today. It felt different. Something was. We sat down and he started, "So this is what it is". I replied, "What?". "Is she alive?". "What are you talking about Salmon" "I have a name, why don't you call me that someday?". It was the first time he had ever said that. He seemed annoyed by something. He took a deep breath, and then started, "Why do I always have to be the..." and I lost track of what he was saying. All I could do hear was voices of was admire him and the sound of his voice. I had never done that. His voice could soothe Moon at twilight or start off a storm at midnight. His voice wasn't deep or manly, it was rather a little nasal but raspy. His hands would often move to make shapes and figures in the air so that he could "make a point", and it scared the shit of me when he was driving because then he would be driving the scooter with one hand.

This talk, was different from all our talks. Every time we'd talk, whether it be in the class or the bus or on the phone it would be fun and comfortable, but this time it felt nervous. Nervous and uncomfortable. I knew something was different. It wasn't the way he looked or how crazy many girls were about him and that he only talked to me. It wasn't his brown eyes or his white cheeks that got pinkish when he smiled. He was the kind of guy who could, just. It was just, something, something about him that made my nerves feel every sense and my stomach wobble from the inside. There were no fucking butterflies. It was not pleasant, but it was more pleasant that uncomfortable.