The Nearest is the Dearest—a short story by LJ Kundananji
The most beautiful one, I reckon, is not the one who looks most beautiful; rather, it is the one who is the nearest—the one who is always there….
My literature teacher was a very clever man who seemed to know everything. He knew everything about the works of literature we analyzed, whereas we, his pupils, seemed to know naught. He understood virtually all aspects of life, from the most austere of religious devotion to the most godless of atheism. Owing to this, we greatly respected his opinions, believed all he said, and, nearly deified him.
Several days before I left school, I had an interesting conversation with my literature teacher. I was actually shocked when he singled me out, saying:
“I want to have a conversation with you.”
“Okay,” I replied, quite timorously. In my mind, I thought he was going to verbally chastise me for being terribly quiet in his classes.
We walked to the tuck shop, where, to my great alarm, he bought me a drink. We sat down on the concrete seating area and began to talk. What surprised me was the fact that he considered me enough to the point of singling me out and buying me a drink. I was used to being belittled and made jests of. I was almost touched to the point of shedding tears. All this especial treatment sent me apologising.
“I’m sorry for being so quiet in your classes,” I said regretfully, hardly staring at him. “I usually have nothing to say.”
“Hmm,” he chuckled, “I don’t view that negatively; usually the quiet ones are the ones who know more than everyone else, because they are always observing what is going on.”
“Really?” I said, my eyes glistening at this subtle compliment.
“Yeah, like Benjamin in Animal Farm. He knew more than the other animals, but he just decided to be quiet.”
“Oh yeah—the cynical one.”
“I believe you know a lot too.”
All this pampering was enough to crack me and at this point, we became engaged in a hearty discussion. We talked about all that a pupil could possibly talk about with a teacher without suffering eternal scars; and finally, we talked about the recent statement he had made, which in my case had touched a raw nerve.
“About what you said,” I breathed, “that the nearest one eventually becomes the dearest—I don’t quiet believe that.”
He smiled broadly, sipped daintily at his bottle, then said: “It’s quite an unpalatable truth, I’d agree, but it’s plain reality.”
“There is no way I’d love an ugly girl.” I said confidently.
“Maybe not, but the word ‘ugly’ is only relative. Remember the saying: ‘One man’s meat is another man’s poison?”
“Yeah.”
“If that statement is true—which it is—then you’ve probably loved an ugly girl before.”
I chuckled at his cleverness, but then I intelligently said: “But still, I doubt if I could fall in love with a girl I perceive as ugly.”
“Your perception of beauty is never fixed; it alters with time and experience,” he said in a tone that betrayed experience peculiar to grown up people. “When you stay with someone long enough, it’s gonna happen: you’ll fall in love. You can’t understand it now, but when it does, you will.”
“I will, huh?”
“Yeah.”
Well, after that conversation, I had a lot of things to think about, but I was still adamant. I could not just see myself falling in love with an ugly girl. I was going to make sure that that never happened. I deserved the best; I deserved the most beautiful girl alive.
In time, I completed my secondary schooling and went to university. There I met a lot of interesting people, and even though I was studying engineering, there were a lot of theories therein to refute and hence fuel my skepticism. But most importantly, I met Tracy—the most beautiful girl alive. I could state, in no uncertain terms, that I was in love with her.
One fine day, before we wrote third-year exams, I took the time to tell her that I loved her. Well, truthfully, it was not as easy as it sounds.
“Um, Tracy, I got something to tell you,” I said as we walked round the bend, away from the hostels and towards the football pitch.
“Tell me,” she said, drawing to a stop and staring back at me with her large, round brown eyes which bore through me. I shuddered slightly. Her face bore a saccharine smile. This affectionate appearance encouraged me, and gave me the guts to go on.
“Um, I…” I grew shockingly speechless. I goggled at her with a gape. I was usually a good talker with no history of stuttering. How could this happen to me—at this crucial hour?
“What is it?” she asked with a surprisingly naïve look on her face. It is interesting how girls feign naivety and not knowing what you are at, or what you are thinking. All that feigning simply adds to the pressure.
I held her hand. The expression on her face changed, became less emotional. It is almost as if she ‘realized’ what I wanted to tell her. Her eyes bulged out as she stared into mine. Okay, this was it. Now or never.
“I love you,” I said in a whisper.
She suddenly grew stiff, and a strange coldness fell upon her. Her saccharine expression vanished and was replaced with one of ire. She let go of my hand and stared to the ground. Believe it or not, I had expected this reaction. It was so easy to tell at this moment that she was feigning it all. It is very typical of girls (it is part of their protocol: don’t appear too eager, else the guy will turn you down instantly, because guys want something that does not come easy). I knew that she had expected it and even wanted it. Yet, she pretended to be unhappy. Inside, she was jumping for joy and nearly going crazy with excitement.
I chuckled and took her hand again. I forced her too look at me. To my shock and dismay, her eyes were welling up with tears, and her lips were quivering.
“Why?” was the only word that escaped from my mouth.
She suddenly broke into sobs. I was totally dumbfounded. I had never seen her react in this manner before. It was terribly frightful. My confidence suddenly vanished, and at this moment, I was very convinced that I had done something awfully wrong. This did not look feigned at all!
Before I could move to apologise for my ungraciousness, she suddenly threw her arms around me and enfolded me tightly. She blubbered like a baby on my shoulder. I patted her back lightly, full of remorse.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered. “I’m really, really sorry.”
“No,” she said, suddenly breaking off the hug. She tightly grasped my arms and stared into my face with the most sincere expression I had ever seen on her face before.
“I am not mad with you!” she sputtered, a large smile growing on her face. “I’m happy—very, very happy! I was wondering when you were going to say that! I love you too!”
“Oh, Tracy,” I said, my own eyes filling with tears. “I really, really love you.”
I leaned forward and hugged her tightly. “I’ll never leave you,” I whispered.
I did enjoy my vacation that summer. However, it was longer than usual. This was because there were a million miles between me and Tracy. She was on the other side of the country, and school, at the moment, was the only thing that brought us together. The vacation, on the other hand, flung us in two very different directions, miles apart. We did talk on phone whenever we could, but that was not enough. I greatly desired her presence.
As the vacation slowly and excruciatingly drew to an end, I rushed back to the university to get my results. But as I walked out of the dean’s office that day, I had a very long face and a very heavy heart. I walked to the bench under the nearby tree and slumped down on it, staring in disbelief at my results slip. I pulled out my phone and called Tracy.
“Hi!” she answered. She sounded very excited and I did not need to guess why.
“Hi,” I said, trying to sound cheerful.
“I made it!” she screamed. “I made it, Frank! I cleared all my courses!”
“That’s wonderful dear.”
“How ’bout you? I’m sure you cleared all.”
I tried to speak but no sound came out. I was petrified for a goodly number of seconds.
“Frank? Are you there?” came a worried voice.
“I’m sorry, Tracy,” I breathed, thick streams of tears pouring down my face. “I’m so sorry.”
“Frank! Sorry? What do you mean?” she cried hysterically.
“I could not clear four of my courses,” I shuddered. “I’ve been excluded from the next academic year.”
“No Frank… no.”
“I’m sorry,” I said as I broke into sobs. I slumped forward; my phone slipped out of my hand and fell with a thud on the grass below.
“Frank? Frank!” I heard Tracy shrieking.
When Tracy came, there were few words. She did not need to say much, and neither did I. Her eyes were red and teary. I had stopped sobbing a while ago; but when I saw how distressed she was looking, fresh tears streamed down my face. She walked up to me and enfolded me.
We sat down on the bench together. I could hardly look at her. I was too ashamed.
“What now?” she said in a chilly tone that send all the hairs on my body standing on end.
“Gotta go back home,” I breathed. “Figure out what to do.”
“Oh, Frank,” she put her hand to my face and wiped away my tears.
“I’m sorry,” I said in a shaky voice.
“Sorry? It’s not your fault. It happens.”
“I should have worked harder, I should.”
“You did,” she bit her lip in pain. “It just didn’t work out.”
I looked up at her and held her hand.
“This was never supposed to happen,” I breathed. “I was never supposed to leave… to leave you.”
“Oh Frank.” Her tears flowed fast. “I’ll be there for you whenever you need me.”
“Will you, really?”
“Yeah.”
Three months later, I was in my room, back home, wallowing on my bed in sheer misery. Tears welled up in my eyes as I recalled Tracy’s face. In a burst of anger, I sat up in my bed. Why did my life have to be a living nightmare? Why did I have to be separated from the woman I loved in so cruel a manner?
A few minutes later, I was plodding down the road in my itchy and oil-stained overalls. I had landed myself a job in a garage in town. It was no dream job, but it was better than nothing. I pouted heavily as I pushed the heavy gate open. I started a bit when I noticed that Nancy, my workmate, had already arrived. She was seated on the large, rusty realm under the shed of the little guava tree. She was picking her teeth in a hideous manner. I scowled meanly at her.
“How are you this morning?” she greeted in her husky voice that always hurt my ears.
“Fine,” I said bluntly as I thumped across the concrete towards the tool shed.
Nancy chuckled and got to her feet. She tossed away the toothpick with a sharp flick of her fingers. I glared at her baggy, oversized overalls with slight contempt. She looked terribly hideous and I could feel my eyes water at the sight. I winced as she walked towards me; but to my relief, she stopped and picked up a broom. She began to sweep the ground just in front of the shed in which I was.
“You are lying,” she suddenly said, stopping and staring searchingly at me.
“What do you mean?” I asked with a thudding heart.
“You are not fine.”
“Why do you say that?”
“You look troubled, very troubled.”
“I’m troubled alright—by you!”
I sighed and turned away in annoyance. I tried to busy myself with sorting out the tools to dissuade her from talking to me. She was a terribly curious person who never seemed to want to mind her own business.
She laughed loudly and raucously. “I’m troubling you!”
“Yes,” I said inaudibly, breathing heavily with anger.
“Suppose I tell you that I trouble you because I like you?” Her voice sounded a bit more feminine this time. My heart missed a beat at hearing this revelation. I turned around sharply and glared at her as meanly as I could.
“If you like me, then you will leave me alone.” I said in a trembling voice.
“Hmm,” she chuckled. “I can see I am not your type.”
“Definitely not,” I declared confidently, and then said to myself: “Besides, you are the ugliest person I’ve ever seen!”
A broad simile suddenly appeared across her face. “Oh! I see why you are troubled! You are definitely missing someone. Tell me, who is she? How she looks like?”
“Um, far much better than you,” I said with an evil snigger.
“Iyee! Anyway, I agree; I don’t have a pretty face, and almost every other girl is more beautiful than I. All the guys on earth seem to hate me.” She lamented.
I felt a bit sorry for her, but then again, a deep urge to laugh came over me. She went back to sweeping and said no more.
Soon afterwards, our boss, Mr. Charlie, arrived. He was a burly man with a commanding appearance about him. He ordered us to get the place ready. Customers were already beginning to trickle in. It was going to be a long day.
Around ten, life at the garage was very hard. We were unscrewing the engine of Toyota Sprinter. My boss, who always wanted to ensure that he had a hand in each and every job, was under the vehicle whereas Nancy and I were working from above.
“Frank,” My boss barked from under the car, “pass me a ten.”
I quickly reached out for the tool box and handed the spanner to him. After a while, he called for me to join him underneath. I winced as I fell upon my knees, rolled onto my back, and worked myself under the vehicle beside him.
“Hold here,” he hissed grasping my hand and placing it on the underside of the engine. “Push hard, it’s heavy.”
I grunted and followed what he told me to do. He was right; it was quite heavy. I soon began to pant as he quickly unscrewed a bolt.
“Be a man, Frank,” he said with a chuckle.
“Yes, sir,” I breathed, pushing hard with both my hands.
“Is the chain secure?” Mr. Charlie called to Nancy.
“Yes, sir,” Nancy’s voice came from above.
“Okay Frank,” he said, beads of sweat on his forehead. “Let’s get out of here. We are done. Let’s go finish off on top.”
“Yes, sir.”
“You can let go now.”
“Yes, sir.”
In a flash, my boss was out of the car and on his feet. I slowly and laboriously worked myself out. My legs were barely out when I heard a snapping sound from above.
“Frank! Out! Something’s wrong!” my boss shouted. The urgency in his voice sent a great wave of panic through my body. I fought to completely drag myself out of the vehicle, but I was too late. The engine crashed to the concrete floor with a smashing sound. I screamed my lungs out as the most excruciating pain I have ever felt before rushed up my legs to my whole body. In an instant, I was one mass of pure, agonizing pain. Everything and every sound around me diminished into a dense darkness. All I knew at the moment, and all I felt, was pain.
I slowly opened my eyes and found myself in a brightly lit room. I blinked continuously to adjust to the burning brightness. I slowly lowered my eyes and started when I saw my mom’s teary face. She shrieked with joy when she noticed that I was awake.
“Oh, my baby!” She cried, leaning forward and embracing me. She blubbered on my shoulder for a good minute or so before drawing back. I averted my eyes to the other person, seated on my other side, with a big smile on her face. It was Nancy. Her eyes were glimmering with affection. She looked surprisingly different, almost… pretty.
“Hi,” she said.
I was too confused to say a word. I gazed downwards and noticed that both my legs were encased in plaster, and that the bed I was in was a hospital bed. At that moment, I noticed too that I had a drip attached to my arm.
“Are they broken?” I asked in a barely audible voice. I could feel a twinge of pain underneath the plaster. My mother nodded painfully. My heart sank.
“They’ll mend soon,” Nancy suddenly said with a reassuring look across her face. “Wont take long.”
“What happened?” I asked.
“The chain was faulty—it snapped.” She shut her eyes and bit her lip.
I suddenly felt a presence at the foot of the bed. I quickly looked up and saw Mr. Charlie, staring down at me with a very apologetic expression on his face.
“How you feeling, young man?” he asked worriedly, his voice surprisingly soft and gentle. I could not believe that this was the same man who barked out orders back at the garage.
“I’m fine.” I replied.
“Huh!” he chortled, obviously amused by my answer. “Fine indeed.”
None of us seemed to get wind of the joke, making him appear very uncomfortable. He shifted uneasy and said: “It’s very regrettable, what happened. I am very sorry, Frank.”
I nodded to show that I had no hard feelings.
“I’m very sorry, ma’am,” he nodded towards my mother. “I’m taking it upon myself to pay for the medical expenses.”
A grateful expression spread across my mother’s distraught face.
“I am also compensating you—five times your salary,” he said.
I raised a brow. If only that could get my legs fixed!
“Get well soon, buddy; I’ll miss you,” he finally said and scurried off.
After he had gone, I looked intently at mother and asked: “Do you have a phone?”
“Yeah,” she nodded.
“I need to talk to someone.”
She searched her bag and retrieved a phone. She handed it to me. I grasped it with a shaky arm and tried to poke the buttons with my finger, but my hands were too numb and weak. I gave up in frustration.
“Let me do that for you,” Nancy offered, much to my surprise. I gave her the phone and called out the numbers. She put it to her ears and waited. After a while, her eyes lit up.
“It’s ringing,” she said giving back the phone. I fought to put it against my ear.
Tracy answered.
“Tracy, it’s me,” I breathed.
“Hello Frank.”
“I’m not fine,” I said in a whisper. “I’m in hospital.”
“Hospital?” she shrieked in horror. “What happened? Are you alright?”
“Accident: broke both me legs; but they’ll mend soon.”
“Oh no dear! That is awful! I feel so bad.” I could feel the emotion in her voice.
“You are coming, right?” I asked hopeful. I added an incentive, saying: “My legs will mend faster with you ’round.”
There was silence on the other end.
“Tracy?” I asked worriedly.
“Um… still here.”
“So you are coming?” I asked again.
“Um… sorry, Frank. I wish I could, but I’ve got some tests to do.”
“Is that a fact?” I felt hurt. She could not even sacrifice a single day for me?
“Yeah, Frank. I’m really sorry, dear.”
“You said you’ll always be there for me.”
“This is beyond me, Frank,” she whined. “I’m hurting too. I really wish I could be there.”
“It’s okay,” I breathed.
“But you’ll be okay, huh? Please be fine for my sake.”
“Hmm, I’ll try to.”
“Bye dear.”
“Bye.”
The line instantly went dead. I slowly handed the phone back to my mother.
“She’s not coming,” I said in a miserable tone. “Tracy is not coming.”
Mother shook her head sadly. I stared at Nancy, but her head was bowed down in a contemplative gesture. It was almost as if she was feeling my pain. I closed my eyes and soon drifted off to sleep.
I woke up later to find my mother gone. But Nancy was still there. She looked at me with a fervent expression.
“Where’s mom?” I asked.
“She’s gone home; she say’s she got to take care of your dad.”
“I wonder when he’s coming to see me.”
“Not today, definitely,” she said. “It’s quite late.”
“What time is it?”
“Twenty one,” she replied unperturbedly.
“What? I’ve been asleep for so long?”
“Yeah, the nurse came around and gave you a shot while you were asleep. You didn’t twitch. I thought you was dead.”
I stared closely at her, with a question marks spinning out of my eyes. “Aren’t you going home?”
“I did,” she chirped. “Got a change of clothes.”
I looked at her clothes, and noted, with intrigue that her hideous overalls were gone. Instead, she was in a pink dress. I had never seen Nancy in a dress before. She looked different; almost like a girl; almost beautiful.
“Well, you still gotta go, right?” I asked with a bewildered look.
“No, I’m staying right here… keeping you company throughout the night.”
“Why?”
“I don’t want you to get lonely.” She said, smiling broadly.
I was struck mute with surprise. Is this the same girl I had told to leave me alone? I managed a weak smile. She really was a lighthearted soul, this one.
“I brought you some food too,” she said pulling out a lunchbox. “I figured you would not like hospital food.”
“Thanks,” I said.
True to her words, she kept me company. We laughed, joked, and talked about our families. I told her about Tracy, and she told me that she had no boyfriend, nor any friend for that matter. She said I was the closest thing she had to a friend. I felt pretty bad after I learnt this. I regretted having treated her so meanly.
Eventually, she tired out and, fell asleep in her chair, resting her head on the bed. As I watched her sleep, my heart swelled with affection. Here was a girl I practically detested, literally sleeping by my side! At that moment, I wondered why in the world I hated her. She was a lovely soul, she! Unlike Tracy, she was actually there for me. She was willing to sacrifice her time, her freedom, for me.
When I awoke the following day, I was surprised to find Nancy still asleep at my bedside. I softly called out to her. She woke up with a smile.
“Hi,” I said.
“Hi,” she said with a shy smile. Her hair was terribly disheveled and there was wax on the sides of her eyes. “Sorry, I look awful when I awake.”
“No you don’t,” I lied. But Frankly, I did not care about that. What I cared about was that she was there for me.
“I’ve got to run home now,” she said, getting up. “I’ll be back soon.”
“Sure,” I said.
As she walked away, I was amazed at how much of a girl she really was. All this while, her overalls had concealed her slim, girl figure; and when she disappeared around the corner, I already missed her.
A man’s face suddenly came into my line of sight. He was dressed in a white coat and had a stethoscope around his neck. I figured that he was the doctor.
“Slept well, sir?” he asked.
“Yeah,” I replied, a bit with amusement.
“Good,” he said. “Ready for your bath?”
“Bath?” I was shocked. I goggled at him.
“Yeah.”
“How?” I asked, pointing to my encased legs.
“Oh, we’ve got our ways,” he chuckled as he walked with a syringe towards me. I winced.
This is going to be very difficult to admit, but I began to like Nancy. Seeing how much she was there for me all the time made me see her in a new way. She was really a nice person, and strangely, I think she was… beautiful—very, very beautiful. I soon began to wonder how I could have been so blind.
During my stay at hospital, she was there for me. Even when my mother was not there, she kept me company. Even when I was discharged from the hospital, she kept coming to see me back at home.
It turns out my legs sustained minor fractures, so I could walk on clutches. In time, they healed, and I threw away the clutches. Buy this time, Nancy and I had become good friends.
One day, Nancy and I were taking a walk towards her home.
“Thanks for being my friend,” she said with a broad smile.
“No, thank you,” I said. “In fact I must apologise.”
“For what?”
“For being mean to you at first.”
“No, it’s not your fault,” she said with a despondent expression on her face. “I’m too ugly, anyway.”
I took her hand with tears streaking down my face. She looked startled upon seeing my red, teary eyes.
“You are not ugly,” I breathed, staring into her face. “God, you are not! You are very beautiful. All the ones who can’t see that are very blind. You are a very lovely girl.”
“Oh, Frank,” she said, with tears in her eyes. “Thank you.”
I leaned forward and enfolded her lightly. As I did that, I suddenly recalled the conversation I had had with my literature teacher five years ago.
“God, he was right!” I gasped.
“Who was right?” Nancy asked with a surprised expression.
“My literature teacher—I’ve just recalled something he told me.”
“What did he say?” she asked curiously. Suddenly my phone rang. I quickly whisked it out of my pocket and stared in disbelief at the screen. It was Tracy!
“Hi,” I said a bit coldly.
“Frank, how are you?” she inquired.
“Fine, I can walk now,” I said, a bit in annoyance.
“That is wonderful, Frank!” she shrieked.
“I’ve missed you,” I revealed.
“I did too,” she breathed. “That is why I’m coming tomorrow.”
“You are coming?” I asked in sheer disbelief, my heart beating wildly with excitement.
“Yes, dear; I’m coming to see you!”
“I can’t wait,” I exclaimed. “I really want to see you.”
“Me too!”
Nancy listened with a somewhat disappointed expression on her face. After I finished talking to Tracy, she looked up at me with a visibly sad look.
“Tracy is coming to see me tomorrow,” I said.
“I heard,” she said in a low tone.
I stared hard at her and said: “I’m sorry, but she’s the one girl I really like.”
Nancy nodded her head vigorously, trying her best not to cry. “I know.”
“So, will you be there when I meet her?”
“I’d rather not.”
“Please,” I pleaded. “I want you to be there.”
“If you insist.” She bravely said.
Nancy was visibly distressed as we waited by the bus stop for Tracy. But I was too excited about seeing Tracy that I did not seem to notice.
Finally, the tall, slim and beautiful Tracy stepped off the bus. She screamed with joy upon seeing me and ran to hug me.
“Oh, Frank,” she breathed. “I missed you my darling.”
“So did I,” I said, my heart beating so fast it almost tore out of my chest.
Finally, we broke off the hug, and she noticed Nancy for the first time. Nancy was trying hard to conceal herself behind the bus stop sign. But of course, the sign was not sufficient enough to conceal her being. Tracy noticed her for the first time. She did not seem to realize, however, that Nancy was with me. She glared at her with discernable contempt. It was typical of her to disdain people who were less attractive in appearance than she was. That was her only weakness. As I said earlier, she was the most beautiful girl alive.
“Hey you,” she hissed. “What the heck are you goggling at?”
“Don’t scream at her,” I said defensively, taking Nancy’s hand.
“This little shrimp is with you?” she asked.
“Yes,” I said with a smile, putting my arm around her shoulders, much to Tracy’s shock. “She’s has been with me, and she will always be with me.”
Both girls stared at me with shocked expressions on their faces, but Tracy looked like she was going to pass out.
“Tracy,” I said with a snigger. “Meet my fiancée.”
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