Short Story: Man Standing in the Dark (Part One)

Part One 

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

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, this is his house; he can roam wherever 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!!!    

TO BE CONTINUED . . .