Short Story, Fiction.
Shashi cooked the evening meal, glancing fondly at Adrian as
he fed the dog. Their bedsit was big as a barn and they’d both felt a dog wouldn’t
cramp their space. They’d found Tim at the local SPCA.
“I swear Tim’s grown since last night.”
“His food bill certainly has since last month,” Shashi said
dryly, energetically stirring the white wine sauce, one amused eye on Tim wolfing
down his food. Within seconds it was gone. The dog looked surprised. Adrian laughed. Tim wagged his tail and bent down to give his bowl
another professional lick. A few laps of water to wash it all down and he
looked at Shashi with beseeching eyes.
“We’ll take
you soon as I’m done, action man,” Shashi grinned, expertly measuring out
rice and water into the electric cooker – a gift from thoughtful parents to
make life easy. Shashi remembered wondering at the time where in the small
kitchenette this would fit. Now steaming hot rice, because it was cheap and easy to
cook, had become a regular accompaniment to their meals.
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| Weeping Willow, NZ |
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With Tim barking madly
at his heels, Adrian walked to the door. Barely managing to contain an animal gone berserk
with joy, he leashed Tim and stepped out, letting the dog run ahead as far as
the retractable leash would allow. Putting the final touches to their meal Shashi
hurried after them, eager for the walk after slaving over the hot stove.
It was dusk - the best time of day to unwind after a long, hard,
punishing schedule. Their exams were looming and if they weren’t attending
lectures, they were cramming. Tim forced them to get away from it all for
a few minutes everyday. Once back home they would bury their noses in their books
again, but with fresher minds.
Trying to keep up with Tim’s energy as he charged off to
sniff at trees, lamp posts and grass verges, Shashi smiled. Tim had added a
wonderful dimension to their lives.
“Wonder what’s exciting about sniffing at dog piss,” laughed
Adrian.
“You don’t know what stories those smells tell.”
They approached the bend in the road. This is where university flats ended and the posh suburb of
Streamarbour began. A wide grassy bank, majestic willows, birches and pohutakawa
lined the little stream where ducks paddled, entertaining families with
kids, university students, couples and the old. Shashi and Adrian paused to
watch as a proud mama duck and her ducklings swam past single file. “Quark”
warned mama duck in guttural tones to one of the ducklings who got waylaid
by someone squatting at the edge of the stream, holding out her hand.
Tim seemed to know that hand. Tugging hard at his leash he
almost dragged Adrian to reach it and proceeded to smother it all over with a
very slobbery tongue. “Oh TIM,” squealed a familiar voice. Adele jumped up
hurriedly to face Adrian and Shashi with a smile. “Oops, sorry Adele. Ever
since you got him those doggie treats he’s been overwhelmed with gratitude.”
“You mean, overwhelming,” laughed Adele ruefully, rubbing her
wet hand and face. Part of the charm of a university town was that one did run
into friends often. After a few minutes of conversation Adele said she had to
get some books from the library and that she’d better hurry before it closed.
Adrian and Shashi smiled their goodbyes clutching Tim's collar for he wanted, once again, to demonstrate his fondness for the lady.
“Easy boy,” murmured Shashi, making sure Adele was out of
earshot, “she’s married to medicine. You don’t stand a chance.”
Adrian laughed. “I agree,” he said. “She’ll probably top the
class."
After a good forty-five minutes they led a tired but happy
dog back home. Tim promptly flopped in his favourite corner, dozing contentedly
within seconds. Adrian poured out some wine - a pinot for Shashi and a cold chardonnay
for himself, gifts from Adrian's indulgent parents.
“You drink red and I, white; I am a tea person and you
prefer coffee. However did we get together and manage to stay together for five
whole years?” he laughed.
“I know. You like rugby - jinkies, what a blood sport,” Shashi
teased, knowing Adrian would rise to the bait as he loved rugby with a passion.
“What about cricket? Half the players are just sitting
around waiting.”
“You wouldn’t understand. It is a game of skill.”
“It’s boring. Nothing seems to happen. Rugby is fast - involves
all players.”
“A game of kill," said Shashi, slightly riled, "where the unsporting rule by manhandling their
opponents.” That was an unfair dig – a reference to a recent incident
where a rugby player had picked up his opponent by the legs and smashed
his head.
“Those players are disqualified - taken off the field
immediately. You know that. Rugby isn’t just violence without rules."
“Those huge hulks
break all your so-called rules and are happy to take the penalty AFter they’ve almost
crippled their opponents and made them redundant,” said Shashi. “That’s not
sporting.”
Adrian laughed softly. “People break rules in cricket too –
all that match fixing and under arm bowling...”
This was beginning to sound like an argument. How on earth did that happen?
“Well,” said Shashi, flush in the face, eyebrows knitted, “I hate it when that happens.”
Realising they were dangerously
close to a fight over something outside their influence, Adrian quietly got
up and dished out the food. Then he motioned for Shashi to join him.
“Damn, it smells
good,” said Adrian, sniffing appreciatively.
Shashi, knowing full well Adrian
was trying to make up, but still sore about his exposing the underbelly of
cricket, couldn’t help feeling a bit gratified. The two ate their meal in
silence though both were aware that it was Shashi’s turn to say something to
indicate the fight was over. Feeling childish and pretending to take refuge in their theory of
savouring each bite, seemed like a better idea.
“Damn, it tastes good too,” he ventured finally, responding to Adrian's truce offering. The two smiled tentatively and Adrian raised his glass in a
silent toast. After a sip he added, “Hope I can rustle up something as good
tomorrow.” They finished the meal and continued sitting at the table, chatting some
more. Then, reluctantly, they got up to clear away their simple meal.
As the two passed each other Adrian silently reached out for
Shashi. For a moment the young men hugged, content, energised by each other, and wonderfully happy. These were their last few, critical days at medical
college. Both knew a lot depended on their doing well in their exams.
There could be no distractions now. “Later,” said Shashi softly with a sigh and
a final lingering feel of Adrian’s wonderfully sculpted arms. The moment passed
and they reluctantly broke contact. After a while each was lost in his books.
They both had dreams. To make them a reality they knew they’d have to work hard - perhaps
harder than others. There simply were no shortcuts. Eventually, they planned a partnership.
Partners in life and partners in work.
Damn, life was good.
Note for non-Indians – The name, 'Shashi' is common to both genders in India. I used the name as I wanted heterosexual Indians to realise only towards the end that the story was about two men living ordinary lives together. As I suspected, most comments were positive towards same sex couples.
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| if you liked the story. Thanks. |
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