Maithaly BanikMaybe a cake from that pastry place she likes will seal the deal. The sun was scorching and sweat plastered the shirt on the back. But the walk was important. No penny could be wasted on bus fare when the universe provided us, humans, with two very strong legs. Also, the more money that was saved, the better. And how long was the walk to the pastry shop, only 3 kilometres? Anyone can walk that distance.
Maps show the way to the place is weaved in the dust of the city motors. Right now, crossing then and a narrow left later, the shop stood tall like an ancient mausoleum. Bright red and white colour stripes shade the dogs from the heat. There were usually 10 buck biscuits inside the backpack but not today. The last 10 bucks went into balloons.
It was Date night and it fell on Valentine’s Day so the pressure was on. The room must have rose petal floors, a red carpet at the entrance, a table with candles and mood music. The night will be perfect. All that’s left is the dessert to sweeten the night. Love comes in many forms and as people say, the best path to someone’s heart is through their stomach.
The funny-hatted shopkeeper eyes every customer as they enter, observing their eyes hovering over the pretty pastries on display. The shelves adorn the wet dreams of a chocolate lover while also encasing the nightmares of many diabetes patients. What would be good for a Date night dinner? Obviously will have to get her favourite Hazelnut pastry. Last week at the party, she was licking her fingers off the pastry just before she started choking. Also maybe get the raspberry cake for when she would be fine after injecting her Epipen.
“Excuse me, can you please pack a hazelnut, a raspberry and two cheesecakes?” The shopkeeper used sticky tongs to get the pastries out and sealed the box. The nails in his hand when he reached to take the money looked infected. Anyone can get into the food industry easily these days. Hygiene and cleanliness were secondary to mass sales and obesity.
Spots appear in my peripheral vision on the way home. Probably should get dressed before meeting her. The door of the silent house opens to darkness. The humidity inside fought against the sweat beads on my forehead. A cold shower was awaiting the hot day. But the house was filling in with the smell of rot. Maybe I should open the windows, but the neighbours would complain about the smell. The aircon was on and on full blast but still, it would not stop the rot.
The pastries were kept inside the freezer beside the containers of meat. The outfit for the date was laid beside her, a red dress for the night. Cold water rained from the shower head and washed off the dust and aches from my body. The soothing water proceeded to prune my skin after a while. The towel wrapped around my waist while water dripped the floor from my wet hair.
The pungent smell was now blurring my judgement. Something had to be done with the smell. Air fresheners must work. The 4th bottle of air fresheners was almost towards the end of its life. Maybe I should buy an air purifier but savings were low. And the smell will vanish in a few more days.
The smell was strongest in the bedroom. “How are you sitting here in peace, honey?” Her eyes twinkled in the dark room. A sweet smile played on her face. “I’ll help you get dolled up after I am done. Okay, honey?” The sweet silence was music to my ears. The argument last week had irritated my eardrums and this silence has been a blessing.
The suit had come back from dry wash just yesterday. The delivery boy was being nosey, asking if my girlfriend who usually receives my clothes, was still around. These men were drooling around my love like dogs in wild heat. Nasty little pests. I shooed him away as anyone would do to a salivating street urchin.
My gold cufflinks were her gift for my birthday. She kissed me in front of everyone at the last party and cuffed them around my wrists. How she ran her manicured nails through my short hair as she licked the cream off my lips. It was also the last time she kissed me. The fight afterwards was very vile. Blood was still smeared on the kitchen counter. It was on my chores list. I promised to clean it after we made up.
As I walked back into the bedroom, I saw her sleeping in the bed. “Well, that won’t do honey. I need to get you dressed up for the dinner.” I smiled. It felt good to smile at her. She never joked about my crooked teeth or the bad breath. She was an angel, my saviour. I walked towards her and helped her stand up. She lopped her arms around my shoulders. Oh, how I loved her!
The red dress was my choice, she allowed me to pick her outfit on date nights. Unlike the last time when she was wearing a wine-red curve-hugging dress while she had her smooth legs wrapped around the thighs of some other girl, grinding against her as her strawberry lips printed the other girl’s face in smeared blood lipstick, her make-up today was minimal. The bold colours on her lips and cheeks didn’t do much to hide her ghost-pale skin or the blue undertone of her lips but it was enough to distract my mind from tonight’s dinner.
She proposed to stay back in our bedroom while I set the table and put the finger stew on the stove to heat it. It had ladyfingers in it, all the more reason to call it finger stew. People must consume greens with their meat, as her nana always used to say.
She loved to cook until it involved feeding my friends. She hates them, but maybe I was wrong about it as she did not hesitate to crash at their place after the fight. I called her a hundred times. Only after that, she came back. I pulled her into my arms. I hugged her tight. So, I decided to cook from then on.
I served the meal on the table. I arranged her plates, just like she liked them. I arranged mine in the way she detested. I walked into the bedroom. Her shoulders were slumped down, I guess she was sad. I kissed her from the back and helped her out of the room.
She sat and I put the napkin on her lap. It was becoming hard for her to sit straight. But she still had a soft smile on her face. I kissed her hand, it smeared my face red.
I pick up her finger and put it inside my mouth, along with those ladyfingers. Her taste blasts in my mouth. I enjoy her, to the fullest. I think of how she and I are becoming one. Her finger under the skin of mine. I savour her taste. I want more now. I pick up the knife and begin to carve her face.
