Cold Souls

 

            At a glance, Mr. Brown looked like a frustrated rag. His wife had left him, running away with his three children after cheating on him with the most popular TV star. Mr. Brown had lived in his apartment since I was born, because I could remember how he cautioned us while playing in the compound. All this while, we always hear nagging and incessant shouts from his apartment. His wife, Mrs. Brown, had a wide mouth, she could talk a whole day without a pause. Mr. Brown was a contrast, he talked very little and acted so speedily. Maybe that was the reason he always beat her up whenever she got on his nerves. The reason for their arguments, I could never know.

            “You are an infidel.” I had heard Mrs. Brown say on one of those occasions. Was it that Mr. Brown was a cheat or that he wasn’t being a good husband? I didn’t know. However, that was then. Mr. Brown, as I could see now, looked like someone fed up with life. I couldn’t blame him, he was lonely at his age, probably in his early fifties.

            Our compound was very wide, with two different three-story buildings apart, only connected by some electric wires. We lived in block A, while Mr. Brown occupied block B. We both lived at the 2^nd floor in the different blocks facing each other. I could see him from our veranda, in his, standing with his two arms, resting on the rail, his head swinging from left to right at intervals. I could see the pain and loneliness on his face. He stared briefly at my direction and put away his face. Probably, he did not notice I was there all along.

            Looking at this man, I felt pity for him. I couldn’t help him but I wished I could. My parents had warned me to always mind my business in our over populated yard, but as inquisitive as I was, I headed downstairs, straight to block B. What exactly was I expecting to tell Mr. Brown? I didn’t know.

            Mr. Brown had taken special interest in me, right from when I was a kid. He singled me out of my three elder sisters, making it seem so obvious. He was friends with our family and always visited with gifts, for me of course. This had been my memories about Mr. Brown. I had never seen anything bad about him in the 13 years of my life.

            He was still sitting there when I came in. I greeted him twice before he was able to respond.  His face was weary, like the face of a man who had lost all his fortune. I really pitied him, but now, I didn’t know what to tell him.

            “Ruby, how are you doing?” he managed to ask,

            “I’m well, Mr. Brown. You don’t seem alright. Is there any problem?” I asked confidently, feeling like an adult at that time.

            “It’s nothing really, my dear. It’s just that one of those unfortunate circumstances in life, is trying to weight me down. But I’ll be fine. Don’t worry, ok!” he said, faking a faint smile and patting my slender shoulders.

            I wanted to ask him about his family. Since his wife and children left a fortnight ago, he hadn’t visited and no one had bothered to ask. I had to take up some courage to do that.

            “Mr. Brown… what about your family?”

            “My dear, there are some things you would not understand at this stage and age of your life, when you grow older, you will. But I’ll tell you something.” He said, still smiling painfully. We both sat on the long wooden chair in the veranda and he began to talk, almost in whispers.

            “My wife and children do not want to be with me anymore, so they decided to leave for some time. They might still come back if they want to, but I’ll always welcome them back.” He stood up and went back to the rails.

            “When the time comes, they will come back.” He said again and turned back to me. “If they don’t return, I’ll take it as one of those unfortunate experiences of man which he has to bear in good faith. My dear, things are not always rosy. Things don’t always fall in the right place for us. But what shall we do? We still need to brace up and face them squarely. Some things are better-off left unsaid. Don’t worry, it will be well.” He said finally, taking my hands into his.

            Going down the crooked stairs of block B, I kept pondering on the words which Mr. Brown had said to me. I didn’t quite understand them all.

             I remembered my C.R.K teacher, talking about life not being rosy all the time. She said that sometimes we pass through hard times and other times, all things seem so good. This made me not to forget Mr. Brown’s words: My dear, things are not always rosy.