Page 63 - FATE & DESTINY

FATE & DESTINY

“You are a great goalie,” he said. “I mean it.”
“Thank you, sir,” I said.
He gave me a chewing gum. “What’s your name?”
“Dorji Wangdi,”
“I am Kinga. People call me Jack.”
“Jack?” I said. “What should I call you?”
“Which name suits me? Kinga or Jack?”
“Jack.”
As the darkness crept in, we scurried through the heavy traffic and narrow passage. We climbed the
stairs to the third floor. He pushed the door open and led me into a living room furnished with burnished
antique furniture.
“You live alone?” I asked, glancing around.
“With my brother and his family,” he replied.
An obese man was watching TV in the next room. He glanced at me. Kinga tweaked a piece of banana
from a comb. “Have this.” He peeled one for himself.
I can’t believe I am at the stranger’s place, I thought. What am I doing here?
“Follow me,” he said.
“Where?”
He led me to the next building. “To my room,”
“This building is half completed,” I said. “Are you sure this is your place?”
“Yeah. After me, please.”
It was on the first floor. Except for a mattress on the bed and a closet next to the window, the room
was empty. It smelled of cement and there was no light fixture.
“Let’s fix the light first.” He brought out a bundle of wire from under his bed. “Hold it, I will connect it
to the main switch.”
I held the other end of the wire, peering against the faint light that darted through the open window.
“What’s this all about?”
As he gnawed the wire, his eyes bulged and rolled, and his body twirled to the ground and flinched.
“Auck! Auck!”
“Hey, what happened?” I blurted, flinching back. “You scare the hell out of me. Get up.” I looked
around. “Where is anybody?” I rushed out of the building and scurried to my place.
“What’s going on?” said Baggio. “Why are you panting?”
I held my chest, leaning against the door. “That man is crazy.”
Baggio shot me an intense glare. “How could you trust a stranger?”
“Wish I hadn’t gone with him,” I said. “He is epileptic?”
Jigwang chortled. “You mean Epilepsy?”
I nodded, still panting. Gazing at the ceiling, I wondered how I narrowly escaped from great trouble.
“Had dinner?” asked Baggio.
“No,” I replied.
I could hear disrupting clamor from the other room.
“What’s the matter with them?” I said.
“YHS,” said Jigwang.
“What happened to them?”
Baggio lay down and softened the pillow. “Drunk. Go to sleep or another trouble for you.”
“Phuentsholing has got to be crazy,” I said.
Jigwang giggled from under his blanket.

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