There are people who watch things happen and there are people who make things happen. My dear friend Stanley happens to belong to the latter few. He is always doomed to have some commotion of ideas troubling whatever little brains he has. Ideas that cause tremors in his life, as well as of those close to him who end up getting some tumult as well. These tumults can easily shake the very ground under your feet. Well ,Stanley's brain waves, if allowed to overflow, can sure cause many a flood much costlier than any other calamities that I can think of.

     If someone were to ask me to describe Stanley in one line, I'd say, "he is nature's sole mistake." Why I call him that is because he would go to any length to twist and turn the dictates of fate until he reaches a common consensus with God and both agree that events should be thus. He just can not let things be. Just as a person clings to his bed in the morning never wanting to get out, he clings to the belief that people create circumstances and it is never vice versa. As long as practicing this belief is limited to his own life only, it's all very well, but he has also been gifted with a soft heart that always insists on volunteering to help others master their fate and get what they want. To put it lightly, he is a self made man who is more of a warning than an example.

     If perchance you have never seen him, though the chances for that are quite thin, I'll give you a brief description of how he looks. He is a tall, lean man, always properly attired in a black suit, and bears a startling resemblance to a scarecrow. It does sound rather funny now but, at times, I have seriously found myself talking to scarecrows thinking them to be my dearest friend. Who knows when his kind heart may put an idea into the straw in his upper chamber (or brain as he likes to call it ) and he will be shooing the birds away from some field. A rare species of homo sapiens, he is usually found helping someone cross the road or carrying an old man's load for him. If you see any such creature, rest assured that you behold the sight of one of the wonders of the world, known commonly as R.B. Stanley.

     Some of you still may not have had a chance to peep into my personal diary, for if you did, you would have grabbed the golden chance of sneaking into another man's life, a temptation that anyone belonging to the human race can not resist. Well, it is for these unprivileged few that I must give a detailed account of the story from where it began.

     Life on this planet revolves around daughters of Eve. If it wasn't for women, why would men be on Earth in the first place? Sadly, men realise this fact while women refuse to accept that they were created for men. A girl, no doubt, is the root of my latest problem... a girl that I have for some reason fallen in love with. Maybe you wonder why I don't know the reasons for these feelings. I can only answer that question in my father's words. When I was much younger, he told me that true love just happens, one does not need reasons to love someone. I heeded his words of wisdom and locked them up safely in some quiet corner of my mind. The words must have had no problem fitting in and settling down. I say so because my brain, just like a politician's speech, is mostly empty. So once I decided that I loved her, I stopped looking for reasons. I was afraid of losing my fascination and admiration for her.

     I met her one afternoon when I was driving Stanley to The Royale Restaurant for lunch. On our way we saw the fairest of maidens standing by the road. She waved to us and Stanley waved back. "Hello", she shouted. "Hi!" I shouted back. "Please Stop," she cried and I could see her in the rear view mirror. She started running after the car. I pulled over. She asked me if I was by any chance going towards Star Cafe. Before I could open my mouth, Stanley had already opened the car door and stood like a true gentleman holding it open for this lovely damsel with hair that could embarrass sunshine and a complexion that could put many a flower to shame. As luck would have it, or rather Stanley would have it, I steered the car towards Star Cafe, hating myself for being a gentleman. There are times when I curse it; nothing can be worse than having the reputation of a gentleman and living the rest of your life proving yourself worthy of the title. You start doing what you are expected to, not what you really want to do and end up confusing the two till you can't even tell the difference. Nevertheless, a gentleman does what a gentleman must. The three of us then headed for our now common destination. Sometimes I wonder why I stick to this dough of humanity who claims to be my friend. Perhaps it is because he eventually does straighten things out. In the course of reaching a happy ending he does, of course, make a few blunders that he puts down casually as "errors in Plan A." Amongst all his strange principles and code of ethics, is one that an error does not become a mistake unless you refuse to correct it. A very noble thought no doubt, but at times the rectification of errors could cost you more than the errors themselves.

     By the time I parked the car, Stanley the lion hearted had asked "My fair lady" if she would care to join us for lunch. The sweet mademoiselle, however, replied in the negative for she had come there looking for someone.

     We happened to take a table near the fair maiden's, no not because I had fallen in love with her till then. Star Cafe was a small downtown hotel where every table was too close for comfort. During the course of the meal, I couldn't help looking once or twice in the direction of the beauty I had just driven. I noticed that whoever she had expected to find had not arrived so she waited. A few minutes later, in walked a strongly built man, the type you would never want to even say "excuse me sir" to, for you spoil his mood and you spoil your day. If Darwin could have seen this latest entry into our story, he might have revised his theory of evolution. We all spring from the apes but this fellow did not spring far enough! What in the world, I thought, was he walking towards our fair maiden for?

     To my dismay he seemed to be the very man she was waiting for. She greeted him with a flashy smile, showing that my beautiful senorita had perfect white teeth. The man sat down with her and drank like a fish. During this interval, the poor girl tried like hell to talk to him but he showed no signs of listening. Later on he went to join some similar looking men sitting at the next table playing poker. Dainty and petite though she may have seemed, the lady sure was very strong in mind. Isabella, as I had overheard him calling her, followed this second cousin of a gorilla and asked him to go home with her. He forcefully grabbed her wrist and said "I put my sister as the prize, now who has the guts to win her?" One of the men from the same circle, the type you wouldn't even want to see in a nightmare, said "Why, I happen to have the guts and the cards to win meself a fair lady like your step sister".

     I saw the horror on Isabella's face. No matter how strong a woman is in mind, she always needs muscular power that only men have. I knew she needed help but I couldn't help being rooted to the spot. I must confess I never create scenes and hate being a character. Quite naturally, I felt as uncomfortable as a centipede with athlete's foot. Well, you may recall that Stanley was there with me and before I could stop my dear friend, or should I say Sir Galahad of Star Cafe's Round Table, he had walked up to him and made the mistake of addressing Isabella's brother politely. "Excuse me sir" he said. As I had expected, her brother turned out to be the kind of man who doesn't excuse anyone for anything, and Stanley had indeed asked for the punch that sent him sprawling over the floor.

     Seeing him lying there, I quickly sprang to action and gave the macho man a punch obviously not without receiving a blow myself. The fight continued for about twenty minutes with Stanley giving him one punch and yours truly giving him another blow. The rest of the lot was either too drunk or too human to venture and come forth to our aid or his.

     Isabella thanked us graciously and sincerely. It was when I looked at her tear stained face and red eyes that I must have been love struck. All of a sudden, I felt something pierce right into my heart, a pang of some sort. What's the good name of the fellow who plays around with a bow and arrow?... yeah, Cupid; I assume that he scored a bull's eye. I could not help noticing that the thank you spirit was somewhat partial, with Stanley receiving the better part of it. Needless to write that I did not like that very much; in fact, I didn't like it at all. To add salt to the wounds, as some say and insult to injury as others remark, she quickly scribbled her phone number on a piece of paper and handed it to Stanley as I looked on.

     I couldn't have been in the best of moods when I drove back home and, being the shrewd eye that he was, Stanley quickly sensed that something was troubling me. "Quite a fine lady", he casually remarked. I nodded my head in the affirmative, saying absolutely nothing. "You like her, right?" he went on. "Shut up, Stanley and let me concentrate on my driving," I said rather rudely. "Say what you may," Stanley went on, "you have developed feelings for the girl, my friend". He said this with such finality that I wonder if these were not the very words that convinced me that I loved her. For a considerable amount of time after that, we drove in complete silence, interrupted once or twice by Stanley's appeals to drive carefully.

     The silence started to grow suffocating. I finally broke the ice (if only I could do it literally rather than metaphorically I would have broken it on his head). "Where should I drop you?" I asked. "Anywhere," Stanley cooly replied, "as long as it is not off the bridge we are just crossing." I burst out laughing and it really helped lighten the mood a bit. "Good," said Stanley, " now we are ready to work on our Plan A?" One of his many tactics... he had taken me off guard once again. "What" I shouted, " do you have a plan already?" "Plan for what?" he asked and, seeing me smile, added, "you do like her." This time I did not protest.

     We decided to go over to our favourite spot before any further discussion. In about half an hour's time we reached the side of the lake that was our favourite spot for relaxing. "Can we really," I asked Stanley, "do something about the situation?" For an answer, Stanley picked up a pebble and threw it in the water. "See this," he said, "it is a mathematical fact that the casting of this stone can alter the centre of gravity of the whole universe; there's nothing a man can't do. You just need to be determined and devoted to your goal. " Over the next few hours, we discussed the various courses of action open to us. Each one of them had its own loopholes. The one that sounded most practical at the time was that Stanley would call Isabella up and ask her out to dinner. He would then send me with a "Sorry" note and beg to be excused.

     This way, I'd get to spend the evening with her and, with some luck, impress her. At exactly seven o' clock I was standing in the revolving door of The Royale Restaurant making up my mind if I should go in or come out. Finally someone inside solved that problem for me. He moved the door to come out of the place and I was pushed inside in the process. It was not very difficult to spot a girl as beautiful as Isabella. I saw a swarm of young guys moving about the corner table where Isabella was seated.

     As I approached the table, I could hear my heart drum louder than the time when I was twelve and Uncle Sid had caught me smoking in his barn. Repressing the urge to turn back, I kept moving forward. "Hello," I said. She greeted me with a smile and looked with anticipation in the direction I had come. "So," she said, "where's Stanley?" "Stanley," I stumbled, "well he sent you this note. He was called for some urgent errand by his fiancee." "His what?" she shouted. "His fiancee. She had spoiled one of her favourite evening dresses and it needed to be dropped at the Dry cleaner's." I liked seeing her face turn red and then blue and then a mixture of the two till she settled on a purple tone. But I did not enjoy the words that she said after that. "Tell this unthinking, disrespectful friend of yours that he must never ever dare call me again or I will tell my brother to take care of him, real good care of him." With these words, she got up and started to walk towards the door.

     Error in Plan A, I thought. This was something neither Stanley nor I had predicted. I had to act and act fast or see my life walk away from me. "Wait", I said and ran towards her, but a silly waiter got in the way and I ran into him instead. The result was that I was soaked in shrimp soup from head to foot. Hearing these noises Isabella looked back and burst out laughing along with the rest of the people in the dining hall. "Please wait," I repeated. To my surprise, not only did she stop, but she walked towards me. She handed me her handkerchief and asked if I was feeling all right. Seeing the concern on her face, I saw a glimmer of hope. "Yeah," I said, "I just wish that I wouldn't be such a spectacle." "A spectacle," she repeated, "I can understand that for I have been one all my life. You know being good looking is more a curse than a blessing. I have found admirers in plenty who loved me for my eyes, my hair; but few ever ventured to look beyond that." This time I understood her and told her so. "You know," I said, "when I fall in love with someone, and I mean really fall in love with someone, I don't want to love her for any particular reason. I don't think love is supposed to be conditional." "How true," she sighed, "I hope you do find someone who loves you for what you are and not what you look like."

     This was my chance to speak my heart out. I realised that it was now or never. Of all the things that my father had taught me about true love, one said that it is no use keeping it to yourself. He used to say, "When you know, son, that you are in love, tell her that and keep telling her that. Do not assume that somehow she would know." The moment she said those words, my biological tape-recorder-brain rewound and replayed my father's advice. Before that golden moment could pass, I asked her, "Will you?" "Will I what?" she obviously failed to take the hint. "Will you love me for what I am?" I dared to ask.

     She looked at me from head to foot and burst out laughing once again. I was hurt of course. You know that the male ego can not stand rejection and this was even beyond that, this was downright insulting. Within the last ten minutes, I had noticed that my fair maiden did not hesitate for a second in openly displaying her feelings. I was frightened and at the same time impressed by this quality that is so difficult to find in an age where everyone is repressing or suppressing ones feelings. At least I see no point in feeling one way about something and acting contrariwise, saying one thing and meaning another. "I can try", I heard her say. So engrossed was I in all these thoughts, that I did not believe my ears; I couldn't say if she had really said the words or if I had imagined it. "You'll try to do what?" I asked. I was too stupefied to ask a sensible question. "Why, I'll try to do what you want me to do," she smiled, revealing those perfectly beautiful teeth of hers, and I realised that she wasn't just beautiful on the outside but an adorable creature from inside too. I looked beyond those lovely looks into the beautiful person and decided to commit myself to her for the rest of our lives.

     I was sitting comfortably reading the morning's paper when I was jolted out of my sofa by thunderous knocking at the door. I opened it and Stanley rushed in. "So?" said Stanley, "you never told me what happened. Did everything work as we planned?" I patted him on the back and related the whole story. Stanley was happy beyond a shred of doubt but something troubled him. "What?" I asked. "Well the two of you are now happily engaged but where do I produce a fiancee from, in case she asks?" The problem did sound serious. I could never tell Isabella that it was all a plan to fool her and trap her into falling in love with me. We thought and thought it over till Stanley finally decided to hire a girl and ask her to act as his fiancee for a day.

     We marched towards the Performers Theatre Group and found a young girl who could just fit in the role we had planned for her. She agreed to do what we wanted her to do for a sum of $100.

     The next morning, she walked up to Isabella's house and told her that she wanted to talk to her about something very important. Then she started yelling and shouting at Isabella convicting her of intending to lure her affianced away from her. "How could you," she said, " how could you fall in love with a man who is already engaged? Stanley is mine, only mine."

     At first, Isabella did not know what she was talking about, but when she began to understand what the strange lady was driving at, she could not take that kind of talk any more. Another thing that I've learnt about my senorita is that she does not take things lying down. "Shut up, lady," she shouted back, "what makes you think that I am in love with your miserable fiance?" "You gave him your number and agreed to go out with him to dinner" the lady remarked. "So? That still does not prove I love him. I was only returning a favour, as he had come to my aid at some point in life when I needed it. You think I am so desperate that the moment I see a man I'll fall in love with him!" "No, not any man, I am talking about Stanley," and in a more stern tone, our performer added "my Stanley." This called for action and Isabella had had just about enough. She called her step brother who grabbed our dainty actress by the arm and dragged her out of the house.

     So, after so many years of waiting for the right girl, I have finally found my soul mate, someone who loves me for what I am and someone I love for what she is, not what she looks like. As for Stanley, he has just left for the hospital where our actress is lying in bed after bumping into a wall when Isabella's brother pushed her. Stanley and his kind heart could not leave her alone. He had to see what he could do to help.

©1998 Saher Khan.


Back To Short Stories

This page hosted by Geocities 1