Short Story: Man Standing in the Dark (Full Story)

HOW OFTEN DO WE COME ACROSS A MAN WHO STANDS ON A DARK ROAD EVERY NIGHT?

Since last three years, I have developed this habit of not sleeping until 3 .a.m. in the morning. I don’t know why but I read all night and sleep all day. Everyone at home is mad at me except for one person. That is my father, who is a retired lawyer. Every day it is my mother, who is yelling at me, but I don’t see him having any problem with me reading all night. Initially, I thought he’s bored and he doesn’t give fuck about what I do, but it is not that way. Maybe he’s aware that I am not gonna do anything wrong staying awake all night, I thought. This thought rested other thoughts which were about to take birth and float in my mind for the rest of the time until I got a real answer to it. Helpless, I knew, those’ll come out anyhow.

            So, one day, when I was sitting reading a Stephen King novel (I don’t remember the name of the book, it was Misery, I guess) my father came knocked my room’s door and came in. I stood up, giving him the respect he deserved. He told me to sit down and he sat beside me. He asked me, which book I was reading? I told him the name. He said, personally he disliked Stephen King books, not because he thought King is not a good writer, but he doesn’t have interest in reading thrillers. And most of Stephen King books are – thrillers, I guess all of them except for a memoir of his writing journey he wrote. 

            I asked him if his health was all right. He replied positively, which lit up my mood and I continued reading the book. Frankly, I was thinking why he had come in my room so late at night? It was not something he did every day. Honestly, I don’t remember if he ever came in my room so late at night in past. Well, there was something he wanted to tell.

            “Beta, are you okay with me staying in your room for some time?” He asked.

            Why is he asking me? Technically, it is his house; he can roam anywhere he wants to. He does not require my permission for it. Thoughts flooded my mind. More were on their way to hit my mind, before which I answered his question. 

            “Of course, Papa” I said and shifted my gaze toward the book I was reading. I had to complete it tonight.

            While I was reading, I was also observing what my father was doing. He was reading the titles of the books which were kept in the shelf. I didn’t stop him, but I was afraid if it was the last day of my reading. Surprisingly, I saw him taking a book and reading it. I was amused and somewhere in my heart, I felt something. I don’t know what it was, but it was something positive. We both kept reading the whole night and by the time, I finished the book – I saw him sleeping on the chair. I thought I would wake him up and send him to his room to sleep beside my mother, who must be thinking my father is sleeping next to her. I did not trouble him, without making any noise I switched off the lights, and silently slept on my bed.

            Next morning, when I opened my eyes, first view I saw was my father reading another book. He had already completed the first one which he took, now was on the second one. It was a thick book, around seven hundred plus pages. He told me, it would take him some time to complete it. I smiled at him and paced toward the drawing room where I encountered my mother’s eyes. Those eyes were accusing me of – not letting her husband sleep last night.

            “You have transferred your habit to your father also. Don’t you think someone should wake up early in the morning to procure milk from the milkman?” My mother almost shouted at me. As if I had told my father to come to my room and read a book.

            “No coffee, today?” I asked.

            She shook her head and gave me the money to bring a pack of milk. Early morning I had to go down and bring milk. If you don’t know, I hate roaming. I’m a homebody and that developed the habit of reading in me. When I returned I saw my father had transferred himself from my room to the drawing room sofa. I was glad to get my privacy back.

            It was not the end. This thing continued for the whole week and he had read almost six to seven books of my collection. I had a collection of over 700 books. I wondered if he decided to read all of them, how many days it would take him?

            But it was not the real question. The real question was – why did he start reading books? From last three years, they were right here in my room, but he never came and read any of them. Suddenly, what happened to him?

            Next day, I saw him doing something which gave me complete shock!!!   

He had bought a mini-whiteboard and was drawing something. I went near the whiteboard and took a close look at it. It had random names scribbled on it and some sentences like – “Met in a Fair” and “Rich Man with Unsatisfying Relationship”. I was perplexed. I didn’t know what it was. My father looked at me and smiled. I thought of asking him, but did not. I was aware of his habit of acting suspicious. I knew he wouldn’t say, so I did not question him and departed from our drawing room. Rest of the day I kept thinking of what I saw in the drawing room. This unexpected change in my father’s behavior left me baffled, searching for an answer that only he had. After a few hours, my parents went out to do essential shopping and I had a chance to know what was actually going on in my father’s mind.

            I looked at the mini-whiteboard and saw it was filled with almost 10 or more sentences. It had no title or subtitle to it on the top. I started reading:

1.  It starts with an unplanned meeting of three people.

2.  The protagonist (of the story) has difficulty in breathing during the trek and other two helps him.

3.  Three of them are unaware that a number of problems are waiting ahead for them.

4.  One night, something unexpected happens (fire in tent) and they all get separated.

5.  The place they’re in is not safe, they face a challenge each.

6.  Soon they find out – it is not an ordinary trip, but a trap!

7.  One of those three are behind this whole trap.

(PLOT IS COPYRIGHTED)

“WTF!” I exclaimed and sat with the white board in my hand. I read all the sentences again. It looked like a rough outline of a story. The sentences made considerable amount of sense to me; they were in a sequence, in order to develop a story out of it. Stories were not new to me, but I did not expect my father to plan anything related to any story. I went inside my room, deciding that I’ll ask my father about the sentences he had written on the whiteboard. And I secretly hoped he would disclose what’s going on in his mind. 

            My parents returned late at night around 11 .P.M. I knew my father would come in my room and pick up a book to read. I was working on my laptop when he came in my room. As I predicted, he picked up a book and started reading. I remained quiet, waiting for my mother to go to her room and sleep. Once she went inside her room, I went out and came with the whiteboard. My father saw me bringing it, was going to speak something, but stopped himself.

            “Papa, may I ask you something?”

            “Yes?”

            “What is all this?”

            “This is the plot of the book I am planning to write.”

            My guess was correctly. “From when did you develop interest in writing?”

            He smiled and asked me to pull a chair and sit with him.

MY FATHER’S NARRATION

“Before I tell you what I am going to write, let me disclose the reason why I am writing a book. Have you ever come across a man standing on a dark road every night? Have you ever seen one?” My father asked me. I shook my head and he continued:

            “When I was your age, I lived in Shimla. It was year 1974. Back then Shimla was altogether a different town and today (when we visited) it is quite developed. We didn’t have much concrete houses and most of the houses were constructed using wood. I had my group of friends. We used to do all sorts of crazy activities like trekking, reaching out to isolated mountains in Shimla, etc. During our summer vacation, we went on an adventure toward Manali (a place close to Shimla). While my stay at Manali was a comfortable one, I remember, it was a memorable one too. Outside my friend’s house (where we staying), there was a streetlight under which a man stood all night. I saw him from the window, but never dared to ask him why he stood in dark under the streetlight every night?

            Soon came our departure date and a night before departure I felt an immense urge to ask him – the question which was troubling me. So, that night, I stepped out of my house and went near him. I stood few meters away from him and kept staring at him for a while. I don’t why, but everything seemed to be very quiet as if he had a remote control to grant silence to everyone, including me. Yes, I understood at hill station there’s quietness during night hours, but still that silence was different. Without making much noise, I went up to him. When I reached close to him, I noticed he was reading a book.

            He turned around when he saw my shadow, approaching him. At least that’s what I assumed, might be wrong. I don’t know.

            “Yes?” he asked me. He seemed to be in his mid-fifties, very old.

            “I… I stay there,” I said pointing towards my friend’s house. “I watch you standing here all night. I am pretty puzzled. I want to know - why do you stand here every night under this particular streetlight?”

            “I am studying for my exams. I have my medical examinations coming up.” He replied and started to study again.

            I felt guilty for disturbing him, but at the same time – another question came in my mind.

            “Why do you study here? You can study at your home also.” I suggested.

            He smiled a little and replied, “I can’t study at home. People in my house get disturbed if I stay awake at night. They don’t let me study all night.”

            I felt bad for him. There was an instant feeling growing in me to invite him into my friend’s house to study, but I could not, it was not my house.

            “Why under this particular streetlight?” I asked.

            “If you’re going to keep asking me questions, then let me tell you my story. At the age of 23, I was going to become a doctor. I always had this dream of treating ill people and I also wanted to accomplish my goals and support my family. I worked hard for my exams and every night I used to come here and read my medical books. My family never allowed me to study at night, so I came here every night and studied. I loved this place. All my papers went well enough to secure me decent marks and only last examination was remaining. As usual, a night before my final exam, I was studying here at around 2 .A.M. and exactly two minutes later, that is – at 2.02 .A.M. a truck came and hit me. It was not like I did not see the truck, I saw it and moved away from the road, but the driver of the truck was drunk. He moved his truck over me and I was dead on the spot. My dreams died with me and everything ended within a span of few seconds. From that time, I stand here every night. People watch me and go unaware of the fact that I’m a harmless spirit.” – He said.

            Awhile I stood there, not because I had become emotional listening to his story. I could not move. My legs were jammed. Finally, after some moments I was able to move my leg and I ran away from him. I looked back and saw he was still reading the book. He was unmoved, but his story moved me.

***

“Beta, I always wanted to tell you that I loved writing and reading books. But life never gave me a chance to become a writer. I studied Law and became a lawyer, when I look back; these working years don’t give me happiness. The real happiness I felt was in reading the books which are in your shelf. When you developed this habit of staying awake all night, it obviously reminded me of that Man Standing in the Dark. I realized how sad he was and how miserable his life-after-death had become. I don’t want such a life-after-death. I want peace. So, I decided to write a book and try to publish it. I don’t care whether it gets published or not. I just want to write one for my contentment.” My father said and looked at me.

            “So, we should work on our dreams, right?” I said.

            “Yes, we must because life can change within seconds.” My father said. 

            “Thank-you, Papa for sharing this story with me. But I still have a question in my mind.”

            “Shoot” he said.

            “Why do you still remember your meeting with that spirit?” I asked, curious to know. He would have easily erased it from his mind.

            “You cannot forget him.” He said and pointed toward the window. He was asking me to look outside. I went near the window and looked outside.

            I saw a Man Standing in the Dark under a streetlight.

THE END

Note: Thank-you for bearing all the grammatical and spelling mistakes