Heavy Rains...
It started raining heavily in the afternoon. People walking on the streets, rushed inside our small restaurant for refuge. Some just stood still, gazing impatiently at the skies, while a few gave in to the delicious smell coming from our kitchen. Father, soon, became busy with serving the customers, occassionally taking over the podium to chop some vegetables for the soup. As the noise increased in intensity, I went upstairs to complete my homework. Our house was a two-storeyed building, the upper floor, our home and the lower one, our restaurant.
I liked watching the rain. The sight of raindrops falling on my windowpane, thrilled me. I kept my notebook on my bed and went to the window. The sight of the blurry city and dark grey clouds was tantalizing. Everything was so still, serene and calm. Only the raindrops were falling slightly tilted. I soon became mesmerised and forgetting all about my homework, kept staring at the horizon until a lone figure's movement in the empty street caught my attention.
He was a little boy. It was difficult to identify his features in the cover of the thick rain. He was dripping wet but he walked bristly, undeterred by the rain. No, he started running. He seemed panic stricken as he looked frantically in every direction. Probably seeking shelter from the rain? He stood there for some moments and then moved towards Mrs. Haruhi's house, who was the owner of a drug store. And then he disappeared.
Was he a thief? Who walks in such heavy rains? Won't he catch a cold? Such questions popped in my brain for some time. Then as the rain slowed down, I went back to my over turned notebook in my bed and tried to complete the unfinished essay.
A few minutes later, I heard someone shouting loudly from the streets. I peered over from the window and saw Mrs. Haruhi yanking the same little boy who I saw in the rain before. I rushed downstairs, cutting through the crowd of customers in our restaurant. I stopped at the door and peeked from there to witness what was happening.
It was still raining but that did not stop Mrs. Haruhi from dragging the boy out in the street who was just looking down at the street, perhaps feeling guilty, and did not resist her yanking. Now, I could see the boy clearly. He was about my age, had short hair and his skin was smeared with dirt and mud. He looked as if he had not taken a proper bath since a long time. In his left hand, he held something tightly.
"Come out here you thief!" yelled Mrs. Haruhi. "Show me what are you stealing?!"
She hit his head and pulled whatever he was holding, from his hand. It was a bottle of medicine and a few tablets.
"What are you going to do with this?!" she thundered. "Answer me!"
"Hold on!" someone said from behind. I recognised it to be my father's voice and I shouted out as I realised what he was going to do. "Pa!!"
But he was already on his way.
He held out his hand at Mrs. Haruhi and stopped to take a look at the boy.
"Is your mother sick?" he asked.
The boy only nodded, slowly.
My father reached for his pant pocket to take out some money. No. He's tricking you. Why do you give in so easily? I screamed in my mind.
He placed the money in Mrs. Haruhi's hands and took the medicines from her.
"Matsumoto-san, if you keep giving away whatever little money you have to these tricksters, you'll end up selling your restaurant." said Mrs. Haruhi. Then she turned to the kid and said,"Do not dare to steal again from me!" and she left.
"Suzie!" my father beckoned me. "Bring me a bag of tomato soup!"
I dropped my shoulders in disappointment and proceeded to bring the soup to him. As he placed the medicines and the bag of soup in the little boy's hands, he looked up for a while. In his eyes I saw astonishment. He looked uncertain at this sudden kind gesture and did not take the items from my father, thinking it to be some kind of a mean trick to abuse him. When he became sure it was no trick, he snatched both the things from my father and ran away as fast as he could.
I knew he was a thief.
For some unknown reason, I was asked to stay outside my father's room. After six hours, the doctor and his team came out and he gave me a reassuring look. "Your father will get well soon. Take good care of him." and he left. With tears in my eyes, I rushed inside to look at my father who was still lying unconscious. I was so happy that he was saved. I thanked the doctor in my mind. But I still had to pay the humongous expense of his treatment. I sobbed beside him the whole night, the heavy rains
ALL EXPENSES PAID 30 YEARS AGO
Inspired from a story from my childhood about the virtue of 'Giving"
I liked watching the rain. The sight of raindrops falling on my windowpane, thrilled me. I kept my notebook on my bed and went to the window. The sight of the blurry city and dark grey clouds was tantalizing. Everything was so still, serene and calm. Only the raindrops were falling slightly tilted. I soon became mesmerised and forgetting all about my homework, kept staring at the horizon until a lone figure's movement in the empty street caught my attention.
He was a little boy. It was difficult to identify his features in the cover of the thick rain. He was dripping wet but he walked bristly, undeterred by the rain. No, he started running. He seemed panic stricken as he looked frantically in every direction. Probably seeking shelter from the rain? He stood there for some moments and then moved towards Mrs. Haruhi's house, who was the owner of a drug store. And then he disappeared.
Was he a thief? Who walks in such heavy rains? Won't he catch a cold? Such questions popped in my brain for some time. Then as the rain slowed down, I went back to my over turned notebook in my bed and tried to complete the unfinished essay.
A few minutes later, I heard someone shouting loudly from the streets. I peered over from the window and saw Mrs. Haruhi yanking the same little boy who I saw in the rain before. I rushed downstairs, cutting through the crowd of customers in our restaurant. I stopped at the door and peeked from there to witness what was happening.
It was still raining but that did not stop Mrs. Haruhi from dragging the boy out in the street who was just looking down at the street, perhaps feeling guilty, and did not resist her yanking. Now, I could see the boy clearly. He was about my age, had short hair and his skin was smeared with dirt and mud. He looked as if he had not taken a proper bath since a long time. In his left hand, he held something tightly.
"Come out here you thief!" yelled Mrs. Haruhi. "Show me what are you stealing?!"
She hit his head and pulled whatever he was holding, from his hand. It was a bottle of medicine and a few tablets.
"What are you going to do with this?!" she thundered. "Answer me!"
"Give it to my mother." he replied in a strained tone.
"Liar!" She continued to beat him."Hold on!" someone said from behind. I recognised it to be my father's voice and I shouted out as I realised what he was going to do. "Pa!!"
But he was already on his way.
He held out his hand at Mrs. Haruhi and stopped to take a look at the boy.
"Is your mother sick?" he asked.
The boy only nodded, slowly.
My father reached for his pant pocket to take out some money. No. He's tricking you. Why do you give in so easily? I screamed in my mind.
He placed the money in Mrs. Haruhi's hands and took the medicines from her.
"Matsumoto-san, if you keep giving away whatever little money you have to these tricksters, you'll end up selling your restaurant." said Mrs. Haruhi. Then she turned to the kid and said,"Do not dare to steal again from me!" and she left.
"Suzie!" my father beckoned me. "Bring me a bag of tomato soup!"
I dropped my shoulders in disappointment and proceeded to bring the soup to him. As he placed the medicines and the bag of soup in the little boy's hands, he looked up for a while. In his eyes I saw astonishment. He looked uncertain at this sudden kind gesture and did not take the items from my father, thinking it to be some kind of a mean trick to abuse him. When he became sure it was no trick, he snatched both the things from my father and ran away as fast as he could.
I knew he was a thief.
30 years later.
I tried to do many jobs, but failed in each one. Now, I help my father running the restaurant which has revamped a little bit.
One morning, as my father was busy taking orders, I noticed a tramp coming inside our restaurant. Since, I am a girl, I found it awkward to tell him to go away on my own. I decided to call my father instead.
"Pa!" I called out and gestured to the tramp standing at the door.
Instead of driving him away, my poor old father decided to give him a nice warm bag of veggie soup.
"Here! Sit down and eat it before it gets cold alright?" said my father and patted on his shoulder.
You will never learn father. I jeered at him in my mind and turned away to mix the curry.
I thought of the many instances of how my father had been tricked by these kind of people who pretend to be sick and poor and get a free meal from him. Perhaps I was too busy in these thoughts that I didn't notice the voice of my father dying out, how his hands and feet stopped moving, and how he fell, crashing down on his back and hit the base of his neck. All I could see was that he lay sprawled in the floor in an awkward position, with his head tilted up.
We rushed him to the nearest hospital. They gave him first aid there but told us to admit him in the biggest hospital of the town, for they lacked the equipments to operate on him. We were not allowed to meet my father for a few days in the big hospital. The next time I see him, he is covered in bandages and strange instruments. Tears welled up in my face. When the nurse came, I asked if I could see my father. She denied and placed a bill in my hands. It was 700000 Yens. I slipped down to the floor and began to cry. How will I ever be able to pay such a huge sum?
The doctor looking after my father called me to discuss about his condition. It didn't surprise me when he said that the chances of survival in this operation are very low. He spoke something about cerebral haemorrhage, but I didn't care. After he finished, he asked me when will I pay the fees as the operation will begin only after the fees are cleared. At this point, I couldn't hold back and cried.
When he comforted me a little, I told him how generous my father was. How he used to help strangers without seeking anything in return, despite being poor himself. As I told my father's story, I noticed that the doctor suddenly became very keen and listened with great attention. When I finished, he stood up, walked near the window of his room and stood still for a few moments. I hoped that he will offer a concession listening to this sad tale. Why will he? Not everyone is as stupid as my dad to give away freebies to strangers. Oh dad! I got up and asked his permission to leave.
After coming home, I took out a wooden plank from the backyard, and with a heavy heart, wrote,"FOR SALE" and wrote my phone number beneath it. I hung it outside our door as I closed it probably for the last time, and went back to my father before the rains begun to shower.
After coming home, I took out a wooden plank from the backyard, and with a heavy heart, wrote,"FOR SALE" and wrote my phone number beneath it. I hung it outside our door as I closed it probably for the last time, and went back to my father before the rains begun to shower.
For some unknown reason, I was asked to stay outside my father's room. After six hours, the doctor and his team came out and he gave me a reassuring look. "Your father will get well soon. Take good care of him." and he left. With tears in my eyes, I rushed inside to look at my father who was still lying unconscious. I was so happy that he was saved. I thanked the doctor in my mind. But I still had to pay the humongous expense of his treatment. I sobbed beside him the whole night, the heavy rains
hiding my voice from being heard by the world.
The next day, I woke up when sunlight streamed in through the glass windows and fell on my face. I was still tired but a note placed upon my father's chest caught my attention. I took it and began to read. It was the same hospital bill. But the total expenses now read ZERO. Attached to it was a small note which read:
ALL EXPENSES PAID 30 YEARS AGO
WITH A BOTTLE OF PAINKILLER, PARACETAMOL TABLETS
AND A BAG OF TOMATO SOUP
DR. AZUMA KICHIRO
The boy who once stole medicines
The boy who once stole medicines
Comments
Post a Comment