OC 2. Cruise down memory lane…..

A brief glance into Jerome's birth and childhood. He struggles with his needs for intimacy as he gradually transforms from a 'lay' human into an unfeeling, self absorbed and self important human.

2. Cruise down memory lane…..

(Memories of birth and childhood)

He stepped into his room, shutting the door behind. Inhaling deep, he looked around the single room. This was his world! It looked different today. Even he felt different today... The glorified and revered, though the helpless, deprived and frustrated child had metamorphosed into a blithe, privileged and confident being over the past 8 years. He smiled to his reflection in the mirror. Fair complexion with dark handsome features.... Oh how he loved himself! Now, what was that other figure out there?

He craned hard to catch the little speck that grew in proportion in the mirror

…………………………..

A little boy clad in neatly ironed shirt and shorts, came sprinting and leaned against the mango tree, gasping for air, gazing longingly at the children as they ran after that one coveted ball, shouting excitedly. His eyes darted about as the ball rolled and bounced between the running and kicking feet. Oh it was so inviting! His feet ached to send the ball flying through the goal posts. All of a sudden, he found himself tearing into the mad rush heading for the ball. He could see only the ball... and he aimed a swinging kick at it....

“Heyy…ohh aaah!” Two boys collided with him and crashed to the ground. Blood trickled down his jaw and dripped on his now soiled blue shirt. He gritted his teeth as a burning pain tore through his temple.

…Pin-drop silence and some hurried murmurs...

“Jerry, are you ok?” Arun knelt beside him gingerly touching his bruised jaw as he cringed with pain, holding back tears. He dared not cry lest they send him back home.

“But where did you come in from? I didn’t even see you.” A defensive Ashir who had bumped into him was dusting his pants, glaring at him.

“You naughty boys! Look what you’ve done. He’s badly injured!” Susan appeared from nowhere and fell to the ground beside Jerry. Without another word, she carried him in her arms.

“Hush Jerry, all will be fine”

“I’m fine Sis! Just leave me alone.” He struggled back onto his feet and looked back, his cheeks moist with tears rolling uncontrollably, with the pain not of the injury, but for once again losing the chance. The ball stood still near the half-way line, occasionally swaying with the breeze. The other boys looked on concerned and frightened, for they had had strict instructions not to include Jerry in their play.

“He jumped in without even a warning, we did nothing”. Jithin scowled hard at Jerry.

“Susan, take him away please, before uncle comes along. We don’t want to get into trouble.” The boys chorused as Jerry’s heart sank.

Back home, Susan applied a band-aid over the bruise. “Hush dear. The pain will go soon”.

Jerry was inconsolable. He sobbed, “Sis I want to go there. Why don’t they let me play with them?”

“They are bad boys. Don’t play with them. Come let’s play chess.” Susan pulled out the chess board from the table drawer. She saw the futility of describing his special status as a would-be-priest. He wouldn’t understand or even accept the explanation.

The two settled down arranging the pawns on the board, his mind still darting to the football ground, his heart doing the various kicks and passes...

………………….

Knock! knock!...

Breaking out of the reverie, he opened the door to find Cletus and Francis, two of his newly ordained friends.

“May we enter Father?” They bowed in mock reverence and burst out laughing. “Come let’s celebrate our newly attained ‘fatherhood’ ha ha.”

The three got back well past midnight after a thorough celebration at the nearest restaurant.

Back in his room, Jerry tossed about in bed. Sleep eluded him as several scenes from his past came flashing in. Finally he switched on the bedside lamp and reached for the chessboard on his bedside table, a kind of peace settling on him. With practiced ease he set the board - the king, the queen, the rooks, bishops, knights and the pawns. He recalled the countless moments he’d spent playing the game all by himself. Reaching out he picked up the Queen. He’d developed an uncanny flair in winning the queens, both in chess and in real life…

………………..

Sobs wracking his little frame, Jerry turned the queen in his little hands. Tears coursed down his cheeks as he arranged the board and made the first move… He played like a champion, making moves on both the sides, though the whites were his side. The board was a gift from Mr Simon, his favourite teacher, who had taken keen interest in teaching him maths and even helped him with the other subjects. At home, his room and the chessboard were his refuge whenever he came rushing in to overcome the blues of rejection by his peers.

Anna remained a permanent fixture in the smoke filled kitchen, churning out the most delicious foods for the kids and with little time to spend with them otherwise. Jacob, a social figure remained ever busy meeting with the local leaders and planning developmental projects for the community. He adored his children, though he found little time to spend with them.

Fr Isaac and Fr Andrew took turns to make close follow ups on Jerry’s general upbringing and rearing as a priest-to-be. They specifically stressed on the need to attend Sunday classes, which he loathed. Every Sunday found him compulsorily dragged to the Sunday class where he would patiently put up with the droning sermons by the priest.

It often embarrassed him to note that even as his siblings and peers were chided for silly mistakes, he was treated with respect and reverence by all. He was given priority in almost all things at home, like being offered a chair, being served food. His bath was made ready by his siblings in turns, before he was ushered to the bathroom. He had at one time even suspected of having some serious illness.

At school he struggled to ward off the sense of loneliness in the crowd. His classmates got punished for incomplete class notes and for performing badly in exams. But when he dropped his grades, he was gently advised to work a little bit harder. Fr Isaac was always there to support him. It was apparently more important for him to excel in the Sunday classes.

It was well into the 8th grade and when he turned 14, that awareness dawned on him about the reason for the respectful and reverential treatment meted out to him by both, the young and the old. He realised with with a sense of dismay, that his peers had been instructed to keep away from him owing to his special status. Gradually, he became accustomed to the cosy life style, and got irritated when he was kept waiting for something. He even learnt to issue instructions to his siblings, which they carried out willingly.

As he grew, a gradual transformation took over. He would expect others to do things for him, like, making his bed, keeping his bath ready, laying his dining table for him, offering him a chair etc. It became an implicit privilege for him to be accorded the reverential treatment, failure of which would amount to nothing less than impertinence on the part of the offender. He remained a loner, going to school with his siblings. Back home, he would retreat to his room while the others would take off to the fields or the play ground. He would then pull out his chessboard and lay out the pieces.

Strangely, he could never finish the game, for when playing both sides, he wouldn’t let either side to lose. Stuck at a point as this, he once sat gazing at the black and the white queens on the board. His heart beat and his mouth went dry as he imagined them in their full regalia. He reached for the water jar and was infuriated to find it unfilled. This had to be Jessy! It was always during her turn to serve, that such slip-ups happened. Controlling his annoyance, he picked up the glass tumbler and walked out.

At the head of the stairs, he abruptly paused, his heart beating faster. Quiet laughter and strange moans emanated from the room nearby. Curiosity mounting, he stealthily moved closer to Jacob and Anna’s room which was bolted from within. Peeping through the crack in the doors, he was numbed to witness perhaps what could be termed as ‘eating the forbidden apple’ in the book of ‘Genesis’. He sweated and watched the novel scene unfold before him, his member raising its head, even as he lost track of time. He recalled trying to take a peek at some ‘dirty’ pictures that were being passed around by his classmates. They had refused to show him and had laughingly said that they would spill it out to him at the confessional.

The grandfather clock chimed loud in the hall bringing him back to his senses and he scurried back to his room, forgetting to fill the tumbler. His siblings were out playing. He shut the door and jerked furiously, coming over four times in succession. That was pure heavenly bliss!

From then on he began to take greater interest in the women at home. He felt a strange attraction toward his mother with her buxom figure. Susan now married since 3 years was so very feminine and alluring. He knew it was wrong to even think so about them. Yet, he found himself furiously venting out in the nights, imagining them moaning and writhing in his arms. The initial feelings of disgrace and remorse gradually waned out. Now he began to enjoy the imposed solitude, and would lapse into dreams of making it out with the females he knew. He looked forward to bury his face in Susan’s breasts, whenever she hugged him out of concern over his withdrawn behaviour. But call it the female intuition, Susan gradually pulled out from making bodily contacts with him, perhaps having realised that he was growing up. Unmindful of all that, he spent his lonesome evenings after school, outside his parents’ door, as they copulated, blissfully oblivious of an audience.

It was the month of June and he had just finished the last of his papers in the 10th exams. Fr Andrew called up and announced that it was time for him to join the Seminary. Crestfallen and with no choice left, he began to pack his meagre belongings. He would miss his room, his sanctuary that had held his secrets, his loneliness, his frustrations, his silent outbursts and all that he poured out in seclusion. He looked at the walls with the numerous saints smiling benignly down to him and scowled hard at them. Oh how he hated them! Susan breezed in and went about helping him with packing his personal clothing and stuff as he just sat there watching her move about. Would he miss her? Robin came in and gathered the bags, two in all. They walked out together.

Fr Andrew sat in the living room making small talk with Jacob. He said a small prayer with the family gathered around. Now it was time to leave home. The bags were placed in the car. He turned and hugged them one by one. Anna looked a bit sad, Jacob beamed proudly as he hugged him. Susan hugged him hard saying how badly she’d miss her dear little brother. His other siblings smiled and hugged him with indifference. He looked at the house that was his home for the past 16 years, yet had failed to be his, and turned away. Then as if on a sudden thought, he rushed back into his room, while all looked on nonplussed. He came out as soon, hugging his chessboard.

“Lets go”, was all he said, as he eased himself into the waiting car and waved out to his family that was.

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