Ruth was Wanting

  It was the honey-moon period, with honeyed white-lies laced into casual conversations over coffee. Ruth knew nothing real about Rahul, but she didn’t realise it. To her, the chances of him liking everything she liked was very grim, but maybe this was some soul-mate level anomaly. Ruth was used to asking the yes or no’s, and Rahul was used to nodding. He was the partner who turned into a mirror. So when Ruth wanted to do something festive, something a little out of the ordinary, something a little dangerous, the mirror matched her motions. As her eyes looked eager with her request, so did his. It was all a yes. 

 To have their first holiday spent together be Halloween, was perfect. There was no need to conjure up a gift, wondering what conversation prompted an idea for a present. No expectations, no obligations. But, it apparently required a visit to the local graveyard. Rahul despised the dark, the jump-scares, and the red corn-syrupy blood. But, Ruth loved it. The horror and the gore was her cup of chamomile. Ruth was his first love, and just like all of his other firsts, his initial line of defence was to simply follow along. So he would tie his laces, he would help her with her coat, and they would walk to the graveyard. 

During their walk there, Ruth was uncharacteristically quiet. With each step, she remembered Harry. He was a soul-mate level anomaly. He did like most things she liked, and the things that didn’t match were so interesting. They were in perfect harmony. Every synchronous conversation was a hit of euphoria, leaving them with a desire to talk for hours. Even after he died. They would talk and talk. But, they weren’t synchronous anymore. There was a mild lag in their connection, like a clock that would tick two seconds too slow. So Ruth would talk a little faster, to make up for it. She always had a question to ask, a song to hum, or a tv show to watch. Anything to keep her mind off the ticking and the lag. Years had passed, and she was known for her fast chatter, and what sounded like whispered conversations to herself in the dark. This constant whisper followed her to the library one evening, where she ran into a worried looking Rahul, wondering if she was okay. She wasn’t. The lagged conversations with Harry were weighing on her, but she couldn’t tell Rahul that. So she blamed it on finals week, and smiled. Several weeks, dates, and study sessions passed between Rahul and her, but she was still mumbling, and keeping up with her fast chatter. This was all Rahul knew of Ruth. 

Standing at the gates of a graveyard released a lot of Ruth’s pent up nervous energy. She began pacing, and tapping her hands against her thigh - wondering. What if I could get rid of the lag? What if, we were in perfect harmony again? Don’t pretend like this date was some spontaneous idea. We’re in Harry’s home. 

Ruth held onto Rahul’s quickly-perspiring hands. What seemed endearing to him, was her way of securing the housewarming present. As Ruth guided him to the tombstone, Rahul felt… calm.

Being a passive passenger in his own life, he was used to feeling a persistent exhaustion. Things always happened to him, but he never happened to anything. He would study where his parents told him to, he would wear things that matched his old High School uniform, and he would go where Ruth guided him. He was a very hyper child, but his mother made sure to fix that. Nothing he did ever felt like taking a full breath. There was always a bit of lung that needed stretching, but this would never happen to a man who didn’t know what being fulfilled meant. How could he, if he didn’t know himself? Exhaustion and calm were never good bedfellows, but suddenly he was breathing and his lungs felt full. Calm. Ready for something, but he didn’t know what. 

Ruth began the fast-paced mumbling, her words grew hands that quickly scanned the dark room for something missing. Harry, Harry, can you hear me? I’m here. I need you to come back. Please. Just- please come back. I brought you someone. He’s healthy. He’s a perfect vessel. I know he looks nothing like you, but please. Just come here. 

Ruth was wanting. Rahul was ready to let go. Her mumbles grew louder, he grew calmer- more detached. And in his last inhale, the moment before his sweet release, feeling so much life in his last moment, he let go. But, there was no Harry.

What Ruth didn't know was - Rahul Mohan was a hyper child. His mother, who had just lost hers, went to visit her graveyard one day, a fussy Rahul in hand. She wanted to fix him, yes, but that was the last thing on her mind that day. That day, she wanted to think of her mother and feel close to her again. So, she let Rahul's hand go, and he ran around the graveyard, looking for anything to play with. That's when Rahul fell, into a deep pit, a freshly dug grave with no inhabitant. He didn't scream, he didn't cry for his mother, but he laid there for a moment, looking at the grey sky above him. His vision of a full sky was disturbed by a nameless tombstone, sitting behind the fresh grave. The marble was unmarked yet. It didn't home a name, but it stood waiting. It would stay waiting for 10 more years.

Here's another thing Ruth didn't know. Harry was sick. He had been for years before she met him. Ever since he was a child. When he met her, he knew he didn't have much time left, but the borrowed time he had, was hers. He was diagnosed when he was a child, and his meticulous parents didn't know how else to handle their grief, except to organise where Harry would spend his afterlife. They bought the best marble, and they would plan what to mark that slab of death with when the time came. That slab wouldn't be marked for 10 years.

So, when Rahul fell into that grave, something did change in him. He was no longer hyper. He was a boy who would fall but not scream. A boy who would listen. A boy who had no opinion of his own. And a boy, who had somehow formed an eery connection with Harry. Ruth had lost Harry, and met him again when she ran into Rahul that day. A lag couldn’t ever be shaken off, because Harry, and the Harry who had passed, spent his time fighting a hyper little boy, who wanted to scream for his mother, but couldn’t. 

That day, Ruth released Harry, and the little hyper boy went with him, tired, but calm. He didn’t have to scream anymore.