ADOM'S SONS(English Novel) By Krishna

Rakesh was angry of course, but frustrated and ashamed more.

That is why he took the forlorn route to his house.

And that route, instead of being the shortcut they normally are, was a longer one.

And so it provided additional time to him to think, additional time to be angry, frustrated and ashamed.

It was the first time he was defeated in such a venture.  In the past he had faced problems many times, but was able to solve it all somehow or other to reach the goal.

And all those opponents were smarter than this dumb bitch!

“I will ……I will teach you a lesson.” He gnashed his teeth.” You don't know me.  I was a little soft on you and that was my fault.  You insulted me? You cut my arms.  Wait. Wait till I ……”

Till I what?  He wondered.  He was speaking aloud as it Cathy was walking with him.

Where did I go wrong?  He tried to assess the situation in a matter of fact manner.

I should not have hurried so much.

I should have scanned the entire room and found the blade.

He believed that it was Larry who kept the blade on the window-sill.

The bloody fool.  He could not find any other place to keep that nuisance.

I could have taken with me some flowers or sweetmeat. Something.

Then he realized that his yearning for her had only increased albeit the painful retreat.

I could have made friendship with her first and then moved ahead with the plan to send him to city overnight.

I would have planned everything well in advance. Everything.

The second “everything” still had a touch of sweetness.

Let me be more careful the next time with whoever it is.

Lust still reeked in him like heat in a garbage dump.

Even the bitter experience did not produce any desire in him to throw it away.

After all, intelligence and logic never convert a mind towards purity.  Only sublime emotions can and nature never bothered to keep at least a bit of it in his system.

'But how am I to manage with these bloody scratches?'  The pain jerked his thought towards the here and now.

An injection will be nice.  But what will I say to the doctor?

And Lilly will start laughing at me.

I have to tame her. If she doesn't I will show her that Rakesh know not only to threaten but also to act.

To pack her off.  Again to the dirt, wherefrom I released her from being the most unwanted burden upon her drunkard brother and his owl-like wife.

Owl's meat also may be tasty.

They will sell her for fifty paisa per hour.  Then she will learn.  How to be humble.

However, it is good that most of the cuts are at the upper arm and he had three more shirts at home.

It is always useful to have more shirts to hide the shame beneath it.

And tomorrow?

Let tomorrow come.  Why bother now. Or take a day's rest.  Fever, cold.  Anything will do.

He was right.  Absolutely right.  That there will not be a tomorrow for him to bother.

At least he will be beyond the reach of much of the tomorrow.

This time, Mr. Tomorrow will be forced to accept his proposal.  Will be unable to dispose otherwise.

But he did not know it then.  He could not even guess.

Nobody is permitted to guess that.

To him, Larry was a mere boy, who was to return only tomorrow.  Tired and frustrated.  Angry at the boss and his company.

Thankful to Rakesh and his friend for their sincere efforts to get a job for him.

And she will be too afraid to tell it to him.  Even otherwise, how she can tell such things to him?

It is a closed chapter to her except the pungent smell of fear. As a catalyst to expose the hidden 'her' to me.

And an unwritten chapter for the boy.

But it will be an open chapter for Rakesh. To improve the stuff and style.

And to plan the next attack.

To win surely.

He reached home very late.  There was no light in or outside the small building.

“She might have slept already.” He Thought.  â€œShe does not expect me so early.”

Then a funny thought occurred to him.

He thought of Lilly also going out after his departure.

To her rendezvous.

And returning now itself and both opening the door together.

To a new life.

Far from the quarrels of the present.

While knocking at the door, he had an idea of suggesting such a new life to her, forgetting the past and looking forward to a happy future.

Not interfering with the other's affair.

But his idea withered and anger took hold of him as soon as he heard her voice, and saw her sleep-infested face and tired eyes.

“Have you finished with your dirty meeting so early?”

Saying so, she opened the door fully. Then saw him standing in the dark. Without shirt and having something wound around his arm.

She lighted the lamp.

“What happened to you?”  She asked. He found a trace of fear and anxiety in her.  It pleased him a little.

He removed the red and white shirt.

He seemed to have washed his arm in blood.

With blood still oozing from here and there.

At first she was horrified.

Coming near him, she touched his hand. “How all this blood on your arm?  Did you fall down?”  

He was thinking fast as to what reply he should give her.

Meanwhile, she was examining his arm carefully.  She found that it is all scratches upon his arm and none is much deep.

She made him sit down and went in and returned with some hot water and clean cloth.  She cleaned the arm softly.

The smarting and stinging had increased, when water touched upon it, but he was so resolute that not even a sign of the suffering was visible on his face.

After all, to show pain is to show want of courage.  And he wanted to be the hero.  The courageous hero.

At least in front of Lilly.

But he could not restrain his body from shivering slightly.

And the hand passed on the message of pain to her.

After cleaning, she took the cloth to bandage it, but decided against it, since they were only scratches. As if he had inserted his arm in some thorny bush.

Scratches all over.

Red, orange, saffron, white and blue.

But not deep enough deserving a bandage.

“How it all happened?  Did you creep through some bush to catch rats?”

The same irritating style. She was not so before.  Enough food three times and she has become so arrogant.

I will see to it.

But she was not waiting for the reply.  She arranged his meals and had left to sleep.

However, the morning saw a much more fierce development.  And the end of it all too.

He felt excruciating pain throughout his arm and did not get up at the usual time.

After some time, Lilly, entered:

“Why? What happened?  Was it so defeating?”

“What?”

“Yesterday's hunting program.”

HUNT and DEFEAT.

How did she know that?

His silence irritated her.

“Why are you silent?  Are you dumb? Or did someone beat you deaf?”

That did it.  Her taunts shot into his self-esteem.  His patience evaporated making him forget the throbbing pain.

He got up.

“What the hell you are crowing?”

He had great difficulty in controlling himself.  Although their relationship had been spoiled beyond repair, he had seldom taken advantage of his muscle power to intimidate her.  Normally, he resisted the urge to beat her, by scolding her, pelting obscenities at her, threatening her of the consequences and then going off.  He was afraid that if he hit her, she will not be able to withstand it.

After all, who can say when death visits a person?  Why should unnecessarily give the police an opportunity to teach him Law and Order?

But today, there was no other way out.  The pain neither let him retort in a suitable manner nor permit him to go out as usual.

“I am asking you.  How did this happen?”  

“Why should I tell you, you bitch?”

“No you cannot tell it.  I know.  You were cut into pieces by some broad of the gutter.  And you are so shameless to wear it as a medal.”

“I tell you. Stop it. Close your stinking mouth.”

“Stinking? Yes. But it is your entire body that is stinking like shit.  A dirty fool you are and I have to tolerate you for my bad luck.  By accepting you as husband.”

“Otherwise you would have died of starving.”

“Oh. That? I do all the works and accept the food as wages.  Never as a wife's right.”

“Who says that you are a wife?” He laughed “You are only a keep.  One out of several and it is high time to pack you off to hell.”

“You will do that and beyond that. I know. I am not deaf.  I have heard stories.”

“What stories you heard? Tell me, you dirty bitch.”

“I know it all.  I know that you have killed people, poor, old people for money. But I am not afraid of you.”

“Whom did I kill?”  He roared.

He had reason to roar.

Because he was innocent in that murder case, which the police wanted to hang on his neck, but could not, as he  had a very strong alibi which a senior police official did not want to publicize as it was connected to his and his family's honour.

And she knew all these.  But she believed that no lie or sin is a sin or lie if used to win a war.  And she was on the warpath with Rakesh as opponent.

“I know it.  You are a bloody killer and a dirty womanizer prepared to poke your nose in anywhere, if it stinks of the gutter. A fraud. You will kill your own mother for five minute pleasure or five rupees.  I know it you …you rotten swine.” She was spiting fire to destroy him mentally.

He could not control himself any more.

“I will kill you now.  This moment.”

He moved menacingly towards her.

Still, the fact was that he did not want to beat or injure her. He wanted her to run away.

But she was in the throes of hysterics to that extent that she was not able to control herself or was able to see the shadow of violent impatience in his eyes and to act logically.

She stood up to him. Adamantly, aggressively.

“Yes, Yes.  Kill me. Come on. You beat me and I will pull out your eyes.  Rascal.  I won't let you see another broad in your life.”

And she extended her hand towards his face.

Naturally, he had no alternative.  He caught hold of her hand and twisted it violently.

She writhed and hissed and turned and kicked him on his shin.

The insult and pain inflicted upon him by Cathy.

The taunting remarks and vulgar talk and kick of Lilly.

Both came together like two red, angry rivers, joined together and pulled him deep into the whirlpool of despicable crime.

He left her hand, grabbed her long silky hair and pulling it towards him, started the assault.

Starting from her cheeks, he proceeded systematically, inflicting severe blows on her face, shoulder, chest, arms and abdomen.

And she stood up with the same resolve, inflicting wounds on him with her nails, wherever she could, glowering at him all the while.

It was he, who was tired first.  Then he summed up the operation, taking a step backwards and kicking her on her lower abdomen.

It was beyond her tolerance and she sat down, pressing her belly and crying aloud.

But his anger had not subsided yet.

His arm had become an ocean of pain with his own blood mixed in it.

And from that ocean, he picked out the best kick and hit, rather shot it, at Cathy. But Cathy was not at the receiving end and it hit like a thick bullet on Lilly's hip.

And she flew to the corner of the house with an open mouth and eyes filled with deep, dark terror, to fall down like a deflated foot ball.

Red wetness oozed out from her.

Precisely at the moment, someone knocked at the door.   

      @@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@