Short Story: The Rickshaw

Prachy Bora shares a mind-numbing story that is equal parts thrilling and shocking.

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This piece is available for free reading this week

My phone buzzed at exactly 12, in a dark serene room of my apartment. Confused, I picked up the call. A feminine husky voice in real hurry- “Open the door dumbhead – it is pouring outside.”

I didn’t have to hear another word to decipher the identity of the speaker. Rainbows, daisies, books, heaven, sparkles, stars – everything that is magical is her introduction. It has been six months since I’ve seen her beautiful sculpted smile. I dashed out and wrapped myself around her sleek skinny figure like a viper coiling before striking. I admired her beautiful face with the zeal of a lover and the thirst of a killer. My best friend ‘Juli’ was here.

“I’ve got you a sweater, and I am dying to see you put it on,” blurted Juli as she reached for her suitcase. The suitcase, yes, the suitcase itself was a shock for me. In our 7 years of togetherness, it was the first time she arrived with a suitcase pointing towards her hopeful long stay. A pink sweater with my initials inscribed on it was gleaming in her eyes. Like a toddler I hopped and laughed with her, wearing the pink sweater. When I enquired about her visit she smiled and said, “Missed you a little more than usual.” I honestly didn’t care about the reason as long as she was here and near.

We conversed about life, the pastness of the past, the slangs of the present and the triumphs of the future. From head to toe everything flew from my lips to Juli’s ears and vice versa. The next few days slipped like sand leaving a fist grip. I took her to places I was enthusiastic about and places where she wanted to be. The experiences we shared were unforgettable.

One such experience was to adhere to Juli’s sweet tooth. Juli and I explored Delhi’s every bakery to find the most drool worthy blueberry cheesecakes. We ended up on some decent outlets but not close enough to make Juli crazy and rash. This was until an ad popped up on my Instagram “The heavenly bakers”.

“That is our place maya – this is where we will go tomorrow.”

Her hazel brown eyes were brimming with desire and fancy. Juli is a person one can never deny. She gets what she wants and so I obliged. I’ve always been curious how she pulls that off.

The following morning, I found Juli ready in her blood red dress with black lace up boots for a two-hour drive to Noida. As I entered the hall Juli cried “Oh, what a wonderful sundress you have on!”

I blushed for obvious reasons. An almost perfect lady complimented me with such sincerity. I looked up to Juli. We booked an uber to the nearest metro station. Around 2 in the noon we were in Noida navigating our way to the delightful cakes of “the heavenly bakers”.

A tiny bakery topped with a bumble bee sign and splashed with yellow and magenta color stood at the right corner of lane 7. We giggled and darted to the store to have a bite. As the whipped cream touched Juli’s honey lips her eyes brightened, her features softened and her head tilted towards left. The cheesecake left Juli at a loss of words but profound emotions. Juli always found moments of joy in the smallest gestures and slightest events.

However, our return was a rather challenging one. We boarded a metro train to an intersection of lines. To our dismay the metro was under maintenance and got delayed for an hour. With all the other frustrated strangers we stressed and sighed. After an hour or so a long-awaited automated announcement was made. “We are sorry for the delay, the doors on the left will open for two minutes- passengers can leave or wait for the error to be fixed, thank you!”

Juli took me by the hand and led the way out of the metro station. It was not far from my residence and so Juli suggested, “Let’s take a rickshaw, it won’t cost much.” It was already over 9 making it unsafe for our gender circle as someone’s dear sons were out drinking enjoying their normal lives. We hurriedly started looking for a rickshaw.

From across the road, a rickshaw driver with a conspicuous speech impediment approached us demanding forty rupees for a one- way drive to the residence. He was a small-statured man who looked like he had just started his thirties. The amount was reasonable and non-negotiable. Hence, we agreed and took our seats in the rickshaw.

Two hundred meters passed and the driver asks us in a calm stuttering shrill sound, “A-h are y-ouh b-b-by any ch-chance in c-ollege?”

The unnecessary question alarmed us. I reckon we were both arguing within ourselves to answer or leave the question unattended. However, Juli decided to answer and said, “Yes!” The driver moved his head just enough to peek in the back from his left eye and smiled crookedly. The dark night and the crooked smile of a man is never a good combination for a woman. It was a warning from above to run. Though we couldn’t possibly jump off the rickshaw.

While I was thinking of ways and dimensions to be saved, the driver shot another question: “What college?”

Before I could think Juli stroked my hand. Her hand was warm like her smile. “How could she keep her composure?” kept playing in my head. She gave him what he wanted, a random wrong answer. He went silent. After a few minutes he started stuttering, blabbering and mumbling, making strange and freaky noises. I was scared to death. My heart was in a fist. All I could see was my way home and Juli.

On our way home there existed a dark alley. I never desired light with the intensity I desired at that very moment. The driver turned towards the alley as instructed. As we are in, he suddenly shouts at the top of his lungs- “Kuttaaa!”

This instance allowed even Juli to be fear stricken. In a bold voice Juli exclaimed, “What!!??” The rickshaw driver peeks in the back with a tilted head and starts laughing maniacally. We were horrified. Goosebumps paired with an uneven heart rate.

He goes, “You-uh donn’t huh know kutta ? a dog?” None of us had any ounce of valor left. And so, we stayed quiet and acted meek.

We were about to reach our home when Juli asked him to park. The driver looked at the door of someone’s house and asked in a chilly and lunatic manner

“Is thezs the- gayte of-f-f youhr house?”

Juli whispered in my ear to close my eyes. I did but I peeked. I peeked and what I witnessed that day changed forever how I looked at Juli. The driver turned his head to take a peek again and the very next moment my face was darkened with blood all over. It matched Juli’s dress. Splashes of blood on the white seat cover and on Juli’s press on nails. My Juli had slit the driver’s throat and gouged his black eyeballs. With an affirming smile Juli made her concluding statement, “Been six months since I sliced one!”