The ‘Wander castles’ blue horse
What an enticing call would one make at such a gloomy hour, three hours to dawn? It had been a custom in our family to switch off our phones right before retiring to bed. A profound misconception was inculcated by our mother into her siblings that a thief might strike through the phone call waves at the deepest hour of the night. The eve to the unknown ignoring the mothers’ counsel seemed to plead with my heart to forget the ordeal to catch up with the ensuing call. An alarm seemed to maliciously ring countless miles away in the dreamland. No subject seemed to however be alive to provoke a punishment against the ordeal breaker. As sauce of rotting persimmons passed across our table in the party taking place in my dream, arrogance with my appetite broke the glass separating my consciousness from my phone ring. All that was visible at a glance was a series of zeros in the new number making the call. I secretly confess in my joyous heart that the estranged voice that drummed my feeble eardrums seemed a form of the proclaimed family ordeal but far less with a tender motive.
The only and upsetting that made the half a minute conversation was “kindly visit wander castle tomorrow at 10 am.” I could mildly acknowledge the voice, but the night dews washed away my sensory memory. Who on earth could have a peaceful night in such suspense? I could trace every bit of my brothers’ snore in the neighboring room. A history of wander castle virtually created by the three triplet brothers in college lingered in my mind with such a convincing message. During my college years, we happened to meet in a common course of as heavy eaters hanging out at the cafeteria every day fifteen minutes before mealtime. The relationship developed to the extent of adopting coordinated virtues of uniform wears, common routines, and life choices. We would meet every Sunday evening at a common hall that turned out to be the wander castle in the city. It was unfortunate how life after school separated us. The greatest worry in the phone call, however, was the female third party who seemed such familiar with the wander castle.
I was extremely keen to follow the ‘prescriptions’ of the wander lady in the ordeal phone call. I as a result took casual wear in the hose and took off home. I seldom and cautiously walked beside the wander castles privet hedge lit a brighter yellow. My mother’s ordeal shouted a big caution at the face of the door of the hall. Sitting in a peripheral edge of a broken chair a blue flashlight promptly appeared a mile away. A blue horse mane made parallel swings to the body of the rider moves in the silk blue blouse. I could catch a glimpse of a white envelope held out in her hands. As the horse sarcastically crossed the lane the lady dropped the envelope at my feet. A brighter white curtain unfolded on my eyes in a manner that is unanswered to date. Joe who was my college colleague held a placard indicated ‘Bran appointed the manager of branch Adidas.’ Bran my name? meaning the words? I could help the series of questions rushing my mind when Kriggler appeared holding butter cookies hastily distributed amongst the three of us. He promptly read out a copy of a letter taken from the white envelope. I could believe my eyes, as I am bearly completing the circle amidst my mothers’ ordeal, the wander castles and the lady on a blue horse. I hand eventually landed a new job besides meeting Joe’s wife.