Limbo

-Abdul Munim Khan Chowdhury

 

 

Michael Foster had no idea where he was. To him, everything was dark. The bright sunlight did nothing to help him determine his location. There were no birds, no trees, no sign of any mechanical city life. From somewhere far, far away, a beeping sound could be heard. It did not bother him at the moment. He had been walking along this path for days.

 

That beeping sound, though.

 

Where could it be coming from?

 

The sky was a dazzling blue, no sign of any clouds. Mike sighed. He had hoped that it would rain. It has been such a long time since he felt raindrops on his face.

 

‘Ahem!’

 

Mike jumped up a foot or so off the ground, moving his head frantically around to find out the person behind the voice. Then he saw the figure. A figure as tall as he was, with the face obscured by a pulled-down hoodie. It wasn’t even cold here, Mike thought.

 

`I know it’s not cold. But still, I have this hoodie pulled down all the time.’

 

`Ho…How did you know what I was thinking??’ Mike was stunned.

 

The figure did not answer but slowly came closer. As the person came nearer, Mike became aware of the fact that he somehow knew him. He was a teenager like him, with sparkling blue eyes to match with his smile.

 

‘Who are you? Where did you come fro .. from? And what is this place? Can you please he…help me, mister?’ Mike stuttered. This stuttering started at the age of 5 and got worse when he was under stress.

 

The boy nodded but still did not answer him. Instead, he started walking at steady pace away from him, towards a big mountain near the horizon. Mike had not seen that mountain before.

 

‘You should come with me, you know.’

 

Mike was startled to hear him speak again, but he followed him nonetheless. As they walked, Mike looked at their shadows behind them. Their movement seemed synchronized perfectly, each step following the next in a precise order.

 

‘What was the last thing you remember Mike?’

 

This question jolted Mike somewhat. Why had he not thought of this himself? He could not remember at all how he came to be here in the first place. To him, this strange place seemed to stretch the boundaries of time in a way that was unfathomable.

 

‘I don’t exactly remember….I was with my father and mother yesterday….’ Had it really been yesterday that he was celebrating his birthday with his parents and cousins? Nothing made any sense anymore; he just shrugged and left the sentence unfinished.

 

‘Yes Mike, it was your birthday wasn’t it? Such a beautiful cake it was that you were having. Looked delicious.’

 

Now a slow trickle of fear started to flow down Mike’s spine. There must be an explanation as to how this boy was reading his mind, and so accurately at that. He shook his head as if all this was a bad dream.

 

‘You will know soon. My face should have brought some form of recognition in your face by now….’

 

Mike looked at the boys face more carefully now, trying to remember. Where had he…where could he have possibly….the garbage truck…a figure….

 

‘That’s it, Mike, keep going. You are close….’

 

…The garbage truck was parked on their street…(Mike’s face scrunched up in concentration, trying hard to remember) A boy had come out to collect the garbage….And then it hit him like a hammer. This was the garbage boy.

 

That beeping sound, which was lost in the background for some time, had returned. Louder.

 

‘Very good Mike, very good. I am the garbage boy. I walked over to collect the garbage and saw you looking at me through the window of your home. You had a hard look on your face, a look of arrogance and pride….’

 

It was all coming back slowly. It was true, Mike was looking out the window while his family and friends were eating the big chocolate cake and enjoying the magic show arranged for his birthday. he saw this boy, looking at him with a forlorn face…a look of longing in his eyes. Mike was, for some reason, very full of contempt and pride at that time. He had stridden out into the lawn where the boy was collecting the garbage. As the boy was about to pick up the contents of the containers, Mike tipped them over.

 

Why did he do that? What was he thinking?

 

‘It happens to the best of us, Mike….but what did you do after that? Think Mike, think! There is not much time!’

 

‘What do you mean there is not much time? Are you going to hurt me for what I did to you…?’ Mike trailed off, as everything was coming back to him in floods.

 

He had tipped the containers over and waited for the garbage boy to pick it up. The boy, though, did not move, just stood there with his mouth agape; he was not ready for the cruelty that Mike was showing.

 

‘Go on, pick it up!’ Mike had ordered. As the boy still did not budge, Mike gave him a shove. the shove was not that hard, but as he was unprepared, the boy lost his balance and staggered on to the road behind him. A loud sound of tires screeching and honking. A sickening sound of bones crunching and flesh against metal. There was blood everywhere. Mike felt that he had turned into a stone, as he slowly trudged up to the disfigured boy lying in a pool of his own blood.

 

The mouth was still moving, and so was his right arm. Mike bent down low to hear what he was trying to say, as tears flowed down his eyes.

 

‘I’m so so.. so sorry! Please for…forgive me! I don’t know what came o..over me…I just…!’ He could not finish the sentence. The boy, with a final burst of energy, gave Mike a violent push towards the other side of the road. The truck coming from the opposite side would have crushed him if the boy had not pushed him away.

 

‘Then I remember hitting my head on the pavement….Is that it then? Am I dead? Just like you?’ Mike wondered out aloud. The beeping sound seemed to be getting more intense now.

 

‘Death is a mystery that no one has solved and come back to tell about it.’ The boy smiled again and kept walking. ‘I am you, Mike. Your subconscious mind. Look.’

 

The boy suddenly turned, and Mike stood face to face with himself. Only the Mike in front of him had blood all over his face, the left arm broken and hanging grotesquely.

 

‘No…this can’t be. This must be a bad dream. I should wake myself up….’ Mike closed his eyes and kept them shut tight for some time. When he opened them again, he was expecting to wake up in his own bedroom. Instead, he was greeted with his own bloody face.

 

‘There is no use running Mike! You can never outrun yourself and your guilt! Never!’ The other Mike shouted as Mike started running backward at full sprint. He staggered and fell, panting. His subconscious appeared beside him, now in the shape of his mother.

 

‘It’s alright Mike. Let it go. Let it all out. No one is judging you.’

 

The beeping sound got more rapid. The Sun that was shining so brightly just a while was covered by dark clouds that seemingly have come out of nowhere. All Mike wanted was for the beeping sound to stop now. He looked at the face of his mother, looking down at him kindly. Tears filled his eyes.

 

‘I am sorry….I don’t know what came over me back then! You were standing there looking at me….a..as if you wanted the life that I had. I…I just had this violent urge of hurting you…no one can have what I have! But tr..trust me I never wanted to kill you! I swear I did not!!’

 

His mother stood up and faced away from him, staring at someplace far away. ‘This is what I wanted you to admit, Mike. Do you not yet realize where you are? You have been in coma, for I don’t know how long. I am a part of you, your own subconscious mind. You must have lost consciousness when you hit the pavement hard. But this guilt….this guilt Mike, has been stopping you from waking up. You don’t want to wake up in fear of what you have done, or what consequence you might face. Listen, Mike. Listen carefully. Try to listen past the beeping sound. Concentrate and you will be able to hear them….’

 

Mike, in spite of the raging wind that has been blowing all around him, tried to listen. He concentrated hard, and at first, he could only listen to the loud rhythmic beeping only. As he tried harder though, he could listen to some murmuring. The murmur became intelligible as he focused on the voices, and he could hear his mother and father talking in low voices.

 

‘Can he hear us? It has only been 3 days….I cannot let them pull the plug on my baby! He will come back to us! Answer me Mikey, please!’

 

‘You have to control yourself Martha. He is my child too, but we have to accept the fact that he is gone now. We are only causing him more pain by keeping his heart beating by this machine. The doctor will come be here any minute now…please don’t fight him.’

 

‘No John….Mike! Come back to us! The boy who pushed you is dead son! he can’t hurt you anymore! We have your room ready in our new home, but you have to wake up to see it!. Please…!’

 

‘I am right here, Mom! I haven’t left you guys! Don’t pull the plug!’ Mike desperately shouted out in vain.

 

The figure had turned back to being the garbage boy.

 

‘Try harder Mike. One mistake cannot end your life like this, be it as serious as it was. Reach out to them….wake up Mike! Wake up! Wake up now!!’

 

He couldn’t take it anymore. He tried to shut out the raging wind, his mother’s sobbing, and all this shouting. The beeping sound was intolerable now.

 

He opened his eyes again, at least tried to. His eyelids felt so heavy. The beeping sound was still there. But the shouting and the raging wind had stopped. A relief.

 

‘He is opening his eyes! Oh, Mike!! My baby!’

 

‘Careful Martha, you can’t hug him now. His head is still tender. Just in the nick of time too. We were this close to unplugging the life support machine! Thank goodness!’

 

Mike looked around as the blurry figures around him came to focus. He smiled.

 

‘Told you, all you need to do is try harder. See you some other time, Mikey,’ whispered the unearthly voice.

 

Mike really wished that he would stay before the boy disappeared into nothingness.