4.

Chapter 4 of 'So Far, So Close'.

Dear Nevaeh ,

         

                    I know how to make the soufflé, but I don’t know how to put it like a recipe. Anyway, I 

                    kind of got this off the internet, so here goes. And yes, I realize I could’ve just told  

                    you to look it up but that would’ve been no fun.  

Ingredients

200g (good quality) chocolate 

100g butter

2/3 cup dark brown sugar  

5 eggs, at room temperature, separated

2 tablespoons plain flour

2 tablespoons cocoa powder

¼ cup caster sugar

Thickened cream and icing sugar mixture, to serve

Method

Preheat oven to 180 degrees Celsius. Grease a 6cm deep, 20cm (base) 8-cup capacity, square ovenproof dish.

Combine chocolate and butter in a heatproof, microwave-safe bowl. Microwave, uncovered, on MEDIUM-HIGH (70%) for 2 minutes, stirring every minute with a metal spoon, until almost melted. Stir until smooth. Stir in brown sugar. Set aside for ten minutes to cool. 

Beat egg yolks with a fork to combine. Stir into chocolate mixture. Sift flour and cocoa together over chocolate mixture. Stir to combine. Beat egg-whites until soft peaks form. Add caster sugar, 1 tablespoon at a time, beating until thick and glossy. 

Add 1 tablespoon egg-white to chocolate mixture. Mix well using a large metal spoon, gently fold in remaining egg-white. Spoon mixture into prepared dish. Bake for 35 minutes or until just firm to touch. Dust with icing sugar. Serve warm with cream. 

                     We’ll make it this evening. Get all the stuff ready. Oh and get Kyra too. I don’t want 

                    people thinking you’re crazy. See you soon. 5:55. 

Love,

Aditya. 

Both of us had read the letter. Kyra looked at me, terror in her eyes, and gulped conspicuously. “This is getting creepy.”

I sighed, “What is this supposed to mean? He says ‘we’ll’ make it today. Why is there a we here?”

“And what does he mean by ‘Get Kyra too, I don’t want people thinking you’re crazy.’” Kyra said. “What even is all this?”

“Wait,” I said. “Are we going to assume that this is really Adi?”

She just stared at me. “Are we imagining all this?”

“Answer my question first.”

“You answer mine.” 

“I don’t know.”

“I don’t know either.”

 

We decided to go to the shop and get the things for the soufflé, so that we could make it at precisely 5:55 pm, with or without our dead or alive best friend. 

***

It was 5:53 when both of us readied everything for the soufflé and went out into the garden to face whatever fate awaited us. Those two minutes seem impassable, like we would stay in the garden pacing from one corner to the other, occasionally glancing at each other’s worried faces, and counting the stone tiles we were walking on-forever. At some point, I could hear Kyra muttering the Gayatri Mantra to herself, and I wondered if that could be of any help. 

Who could it be? Could it be our classmate Raj, just having fun? But, no, he was incredibly devastated about Adi’s death. He wouldn’t do anything like that. He wasn’t in shape to. And it didn’t make any sense. Maybe we were imagining it after all. But I had read both the letters a lot of times. They were as real as reality could get, written by an actual hand on actual paper with the use of an actual pen. 

“It’s 5:54 NEEVY WE’RE GOING TO DIE S**T S**T S**T S**T” Kyra said, her voice smaller than it actually was. 

“Kyra. Calm. Down.” I said, even though I felt what I can only describe as a weakness that made my teeth feel like they were going to fall off.

“I’M GOING TO PUKE.” 

“Sshh.” I said, and checked my watch. “It’s time.” I whispered.

And at that very moment, the gate opened. I held my breath and stared ahead, like an old man who had committed too many sins and was now waiting for death to slap him in the face. No doorbell rung, nothing happened. The gate opened. Funnily, I saw a wheel. Then another. And behind them.. a foot wearing dirty old slippers. Tan pants. I looked up too face him. Grey beard scruff.

It was our gardener. Our 62 year old gardener Hemant Kaka. 

He smiled at me, his toothless grin lighting over his brown face. I smiled back nervously. He parked his bicycle on the side and went to get the garden pipe and start working on the plants and flowers. 

“Check the mail?” Kyra said, and both of us rushed to the mail slot. Empty.

I felt cheated on for some reason. Like I’d lost something and someone had promised me that he’d give it back to me, but he ended up keeping it. I wanted to punch a wall. It was stupid, of course, to trust a letter, even the source of which we had no clue of. But I still did. Somewhere deep inside I felt like I knew I shouldn’t have opened my hart to something like that, to a letter which was supposedly from a dead person. What sense did that make?

“You know, let’s just go inside.” I said, unable to hide how upset I was. 

“Aw, Neevy.” Kyra said, patting my shoulder. 

I just looked at the gate and chuckled bitterly, “What were we thinking?”

And then as soon as I turned, I heard the unmistakable sound of not-very-old sneakers on a wet road. At first I thought it was my mind playing games again. God, Neevy, were you in love with him or something? I thought. Maybe. Shut up, I am allowed to be sad okay, go to hell, another part of me thought. But then I heard it again. Kyra kept walking ahead of me like a deaf person. I turned back to the gate. 

My knees felt too weak to support me. My hands felt limp and like they were simply attached to my shoulders by thin lifeless threads. I breathed out a shaky breath and closed my eyes for a moment, wondering if it was an illusion, if I was even supposed to believe what was happening. My legs felt like melting jelly. For some reason, Kyra didn’t freak out. She just stood beside me squinting at the gate.

“What are you staring at?” he said, and chuckled, walking towards me, in his blue jeans and a black buttoned-down shirt. 

He walked over to us, and I looked back at Kyra, who’s expression was as normal as normality could get. “Sweety,” she said, “Its okay if you want to stay here for a while. I’ll be inside.”

“K-Kyra he’s … he’s here,” I said, confused and scared shitless as she walked inside.

“What?” she stopped and asked.

I looked back at the gate and he put a finger on his lips, shaking his head. I looked back at Kyra, bewildered, “Nothing. Nothing. You go ahead, I’m here.” She nodded and walked inside.

He then smiled and hugged me, and I couldn’t believe it for a second. It was happening but I couldn’t believe it. I felt his arms threatening to squeeze the s**t out of me, I could feel the actual touch, the warmth of him, everything. I could see him there, right there, before me, his tall frame kind of taking over, hiding mine. I could see his eyes, and they were all real. He was there. And it was so scary, like he would vanish any moment and that all this would break every piece that I had managed to put back together somehow. 

“I told you I’d come back.” He whispered into my ear. 

I couldn’t say anything back. All I could do was feel his scent, his embrace and him, right there with me. And I felt whole again. The broken strings were together and one again.