FORTY-ONE
ANIJ IS BUSY CHECKING TRUCKLOADS of stuff. Those are being unloaded in front of his big garage. There are a few guys from two different pickup trucks. They are unloading lots of boxes and some other cases. Anij is counting every box and case from those trucks. He asks one of the guys, “How many left?”
“Ah . . . let me check the paper . . . There should be one more truck and that is it.”
“Shit. I got a lot of stuff today. Come on, guys. Move just a little faster, please.”
“All right . . .”
Since Mario’s death, Anij has been promoted to regional manager, covering his old town, Halawa, and Honolulu. He is always on top of things and never makes a mistake. A private little promise to Mario to help his business to prosper as much as it can. He gets tons of phone calls every day for deliveries and pickups. He sure is a one hell of a busy guy. The truck drivers are finished with unloading the stuff. Anij watches them leave. He lights up a cigar and enjoys a moment of satisfaction for his work, just like other people.
The house is surely so much bigger than what he used to have. Now Anij has a five-car garage and seven bedrooms and four bathrooms in his house. It is a mansion. A very pretty one, with ornate stained-glass doors; stone walls surround the entire house. It has a big garden that resembles a tropical forest. The idea, of course, came from Bikini Island. And it is certainly bigger than the neighbours’ houses. There are four guards who constantly are on patrol around the house, 24/7. It is for the security of his goods. In his garage, he has a few different Corvettes and a pickup truck for a daily commute. Last but not least, there is a brand-new V8 Thunderbird for Samantha.
Everyone in the neighbourhood thinks that he is doing a trade business at his home. And everyone buys it without any problem after watching all those boxes and things coming to his house daily. To disguise his business, he even hires real truck drivers. It is more believable that way. Every Saturday, he gets lots of baby toys and sometimes gives them away to neighbours. That is all there is to it. Obviously he knows how to do things properly. No one wants this exclusive area to become the centre of high drug traffic. All in all, he is rich and respected.
As far as Anij is concerned, things couldn’t get any better than this — except for Samantha. Ever since he became the regional manager with hectic daily schedules, she has started going out for days and not coming back home. He lets her do her thing. It is about time to take a big toll on both. She is becoming sicker and more violent to him. Many times she fights with him for no reason. He doesn’t know what to do with her anymore. She has become a total menace and nuisance. She is sober for probably about ten minutes during the entire day. There isn’t anything she doesn’t try these days. Probably everything in the encyclopedia. So far there have been quite a few heavy and serious fights between them. There were times that he slapped and smacked her. Whenever that happened, she stormed out of the room and started to break things around the house. She has even been arrested a few times.
It is late at night. Yet again, they are fighting about the same thing. As usual, Samantha screams out loud, “I am so sick of you, Anij. Seriously, I don’t even know why you are with me.”
“What are you talking about?”
“You don’t even care about me! And you are always so goddamn busy with your work and your shit.”
“Hey, baby. That is what I do. Don’t you know that? But I give you tons of stuff, right?”
“Well, I never asked you to buy me all these shits, you know. See? You don’t even know what I want.”
“Then why don’t you just tell me now? So I can give you whatever you want. Okay?”
“Oh, my God! Listen to yourself! ‘Why don’t you tell me now’? What the hell? You got some attitude, ha!”
“What the . . . What the hell is wrong with you? Just tell me what you want. Then I will do something.”
“Wow . . . So it is always you. Ha? I tell you what. So you will do something about it? Why can’t I do something about that? Ha? Why does it always have to be you? Why?”
“What? You don’t make any sense. What does that have to do with me, anyway?”
“There are many things in the world that don’t make any sense at all, like UFOs . . . drugs . . . You know, they do some crazy shit. But no one knows what it does to you, exactly. I just can’t talk to you anymore.”
“Whatever . . . If there are so many things wrong with me, then why don’t you do something about it? Come on. You just said it. Do something!”
“Holy cow! I can’t take this shit anymore. I am out of here!”
“Come back here! I am not finished!”
“You sound just like Naoki! Remember? Can’t forget about that, ha?”
“Come here, you crazy bitch!”
He smacks her face hard with his fist. She falls down hard on the ground immediately. Her fear and rage glows hotter than the sun. Her eyes say it all. She stares at him with the darkest malice. Because she is so angry, she even pants deeply and has not a word to say. Her brain must be having a hard time to come up with anything. So she doesn’t even try to get up. Then he walks up to her and yells at her.
“When I am talking to you, you don’t just run away from me, okay? Don’t you dare to walk away from me like that ever again! Next time, it is going to be very ugly. Okay?”
“Sorry . . .”
She takes a moment to answer. His behaviour starts to remind her of her ex-boyfriend, Naoki. It terrifies her. Her emotion takes over and she starts to weep loudly. Anij is looking at her. He is sure that she fears him now and it makes him feel bad. He hadn’t wanted to hurt her. But his angry-o-meter went over the red zone. He takes a cigar from his pocket and lights it up. After only a few puffs, he throws it on the floor and walks up to her. She is still sobbing for her sorry life. His violence lacerates her mind and body into pieces.
He grabs her and hugs her. She also puts her arms around him. The weeping goes on for a while. It echoes in the house.
After that big fight with Samantha, Anij tries to talk to her more often and spend more time with her. But once the water escapes the cloud, it soaks the ground. That is just the way it is. He feels that she is in a distant world from his. Lately she leaves the house fairly early in the morning and comes back home pretty late, close to midnight. And it is happening almost every day. Every time he tries to talk to her, she resists and tries to talk to him as little as possible. Or she simply avoids it. This makes him really sad and depressed. Once she was the love of his life and now she has become his biggest burden.
He starts to take more drugs and alcohol to forgot all this. Things can only deteriorate at the current rate. He is doped up and drunk all day, with lots of crying as well. There are lots of smashed whisky bottles on the floor. Whenever he takes drugs or alcohol, he plays his old mom’s music. The music echoes inside the house. The lyrics from the song exactly portray what he feels. He has become a slave of drugs and alcohol; and possibly his own sadness and depression.
Deliveries are not made on time. James calls Anij up very often to make sure he is sober. But that is only a temporary solution for the deep scars of his life. Anij doesn’t care about anything anymore. He ignores phone calls. Mostly he can’t even hear the ringing of the phone due to his intoxicated state. Samantha is out having multiple affairs with just about anyone. It is a house of living horror. All kinds of terror and horror have been creating a pure hell for the past few months. The once pretty and respectable house is now a stinky dungeon — just like their lives.
One day, Anij wakes up in the middle of the day. He walks around the outside of the house with a bottle of whisky in his hand and suddenly stops in front of Samantha’s car in the driveway. She is kissing a guy in her car while Anij is watching. She notices Anij after a while but she doesn’t even want to stop. She just keeps on going. He is too inebriated to do anything about it. After watching them kissing for a while, he sinks down to the ground. The whisky bottle shatters and the shards fly across the driveway, expressing what he is feeling right now. The guy who is kissing her is surprised as he watches Anij.
“Who is that?”
“Oh. Don’t worry about him. He is nobody. Where were we?”
“Oh . . . you mean this?”
They grab each other with passion and keep on kissing each other. While she is kissing him, she looks at Anij on the ground for a while then closes her eyes.
The sun went down a few hours ago. Anij is cleaning his pistol. It is a Glock. It is a powerful and deadly accurate machine. He has had it for a long time but never used it. It is not certain, but it looks as though he must have found a way to use it. For any soldier, good maintenance of his gun is a key for a sure shot whenever the trigger is pulled. So he dismantles all the parts and cleans them nicely. It makes him look like a child with his first toy gun. He gets all excited and carried away. Then a fantasy blooms suddenly. He carries the gun around the house and does some cool moves from action films. Many names come across his mind. He tries to mimic movie stars by aiming the gun at the door, making phony gun-firing sounds, and rolling on the floor as if he has to rescue a bunch of hostages on the other side. From a distance, it really looks childish. He puts himself in a situation and talks to himself.
“I am out of ammo. Throw me the magazine. Okay. I got it. I will take these guys down. You go and rescue Dr. Stanley. Okay? All right. Here I come, assholes! Bang! Bang! Two down. And another! Bang! Bang! Three more down!”
Certainly it seems like he is sober and having a blast, now. Then the door is opening slowly. There is Samantha walking inside the house. She is a bit tipsy. The wobbly walking says it all. She slams the door shut. And there is Anij rolling around and running through the house with his gun. She throws careless looks at what he is doing. She sits down on a couch and throws her boots in front of him intentionally. He notices her boots and speaks to her.
“Hey! Where have you been all day?”
“Well, you saw me the other day. What was I doing then?”
“Hm . . . Screwing some guy?”
She puts on a pathetic smile and replies, “No . . . Not a guy. Guys . . . ‘s’ at the end. Plural! Actually a whole bunch of assholes who just can’t get enough of me all day long.”
He is shocked that she is so freely talking about that without any guilt. But he keeps talking to her about it. He still feels that he owes her a lot. In his mind, all those horrible things that she is saying now can’t be true at all. So she is just making some shit up to get some attention from him. So he continues.
“Wow! That sounds exciting, right? So? Good? Better than me?”
“Oh, God, yeah. You know . . . they have proper packages in their pants. So it just has to be better from the get-go. Okay?”
“Yeah?”
“Oh, hell yeah!”
His face is getting red and his anger starts to show. The blood pumps his fury quicker than he can blink. Then he asks her again.
“Yeah?”
She starts to take a moment to make fun of him again.
“. . .Yeah.”
His eyes are about to burn her eyes.
“Yeah?”
“. . . Yeah . . .”
“Yeah?”
With him being so mad at her, she stops.
She just stares at him. She doesn’t know why he keeps asking the same question. She feels bad for him about two seconds. Then her fear kicks in. But she continues to ignore him. He is becoming very paranoid. He puts on a sickly smile and asks her the same question again. This is very scary.
“Yeah?”
“Now you are creeping me out. Stop asking me the same question! Okay?”
“Yeah?”
“. . . Why are you asking me the same question over and over?”
“Yeah?”
“Stop!”
“Yeah?”
“Oh, God. I am going upstairs.”
“Yeah?”
“Just what is wrong with you?”
“Yeah?”
She pretends that she is not scared and runs to the stairs. His rage is going through the roof. He fits a silencer onto his gun and starts to aim at her. For some reason, he resumes the game he was playing before she came in and speaks to himself.
“Dr. Stanley, I got that bitch finally. I will make sure to get rid of the evil force on earth forever. Don’t worry about me. Just run to the door, okay?”
There is Anij aiming the gun at her. She thinks that he is just playing a role in a movie. She asks, “What the hell are you talking about?”
Anij continues to talk to himself. “You are a true evil to this society. I shall have to punish you in my way. You have caused too much damage to everyone. Now it is time to die, bitch!”
“What the f — ”
Before she finishes her sentence, he pulls the trigger.
With the silencer, it was so quiet. It almost seems like an exquisite artistry. He shoots her five times. She falls down on the floor immediately. The red blood spreads across the floor fast. Her guts are spewing out and blood is gushing out her stomach. The rivers of blood quickly create a little pond with a few intestines floating around. He gets close to her. The steamy blood pond never looks so real to him. His eyes examine this situation. Even shot five times, the human body is still resilient. She still can move a little bit. He gets even closer and studies her body. She looks at him for the last time and raises her hands to grab him, while she is moaning very loud. This must be her ultimatum. Blood is squirting from everywhere. She sees herself covered with blood. A warm tear trickles down on her pretty cheek.
With all her strength, she grabs him. He notices that she is trying to tell him something for the last time. But his rage completely shuts down his emotion. He is like a machine now. As soon as she tries to say her last word, she is vomiting a bucket of blood from her mouth. But without any consideration for her last words, he shoots her with his eyes wide open till the magazine is empty.
Gun shells drop on the floor and roll about. He doesn’t flinch at all. He stoops down to her dead face and yells, “How do you like that now? What? What? What did you say? Yeah? Yeah? See if you can screw some more assholes. Hm . . . I didn’t think so.”
He looks around slowly and yells out to Eddie, one of the guards.
“Eddie! Eddie!”
Eddie runs into the house.
“Yeah?”
“Clean up this shit. I don’t want to see it.”
“Holy shit! What the hell happened?”
“What? Never seen a corpse before?”
“Well, yeah. But . . .”
“I told you to just clean this shit up. Now! Now! Now! Now! Now!”
“Okay . . .”
“God! What the hell is wrong with you! You don’t wanna work?”
Anij throws his gun on the couch and picks up a whisky bottle. The whisky has never tasted so bitter. It burns his throat. Then he walks out of the house as if nothing had happened. Eddie is looking at Anij while he is wiping the floor. Anij stands on the porch and looks up at the sky. The stars are shining as usual. Nature doesn’t seem to react at all. He takes a big sip of the whisky and pulls out a cigar. The whisky and cigar are the only friends he has now.
Then he says to himself, “Ah . . . Now it is quiet.”
He shakes his head and keeps staring at the stars. The stars feel so different now than when he used to look at them. After a while, warm tears are dripping down his cheeks. They get into his mouth . . . salty and warm. He thinks that it should feel different this time — especially now. But it can’t be different. No matter what happens, tears are always warm, and so is blood. Tears are always clear and blood is always red. They just don’t change their nature. Some things always stay the same. It doesn’t matter how you feel or how badly you want them to be different.
He starts to cry and cry and cry. Now he feels he has lost everything. At least when he had Samantha, he didn’t feel this bad. But this excruciating pain of losing her is slashing his mind and heart. He lies down, curls up his body, and puts his hands on his head. He pulls out his hair. It doesn’t hurt him. He can’t even scream out loud. The nature of sorrow brings him a devastation and eventually an annihilation. This deep sorrow, hollowness, and vanity make him mute.
While he is having a seizure of sadness, Eddie is walking toward him with a few bullets in his body and bleeding badly. Then he falls down by Anij. Anij gets up, startled. Now he doesn’t know what to think.
“What the . . . Hey! Wake up! Wake up! Eddie!”
He looks inside the house. There is a guy with a gun in his hand walking toward Anij. He is reloading his gun and watching Anij. The gun also has a silencer. Anij questions himself as the guy is slowly approaching him. The sadness has had its turn. Now it is time for horror. He walks backward and yells at the hit man, “Who are you? Who sent you? What do you want?”
The killer doesn’t answer at all but keeps on coming. He looks determined that he will kill Anij right at this moment. Anij continues to yell at him while he is trying to find a way out.
“How did you get inside? Just tell me what you want!”
The killer of course doesn’t answer back. He just walks closer and closer to Anij. Before any more bullets travel, there must be a way to get out of this situation. Anij starts to run away with all his might. The killer starts to shoot at him. Luckily, the bullets avoid Anij. Anij’s Corvette happens to be nearby. The killer shoots at Anij a few more times. But the bullets only make some holes in the ground and the cars. Anij quickly gets inside the car and starts the engine. There is no time to look in the rear-view mirror. He just takes off as fast as he can. The killer shoots some more as he chases after the car, but Anij manages to get away.
Oddly, the killer stops shooting at Anij and enters the house. He looks at Samantha’s body. Then he grabs the phone and dials a number. “James? He ran away.”
“Hm . . . Okay. That should do.” James answers the phone so casually.
“Okay.”
The killer throws his gun on the floor and exits the house ever so calmly. It seems he doesn’t care about Anij anymore.
Anij is driving like a maniac. Traffic lights are no concern for him. This is a matter of life and death. He is heading to the home of one of his guards, who is off duty today. With many violent turns, he gets to the house. He is still not sure whether the killer is chasing after him. It feels like the killer is about to pop out his face and shoot him any second. He looks around the yard carefully and knocks on the back door. But no one is answering.
He grabs and turns the doorknob. The door opens. He wonders if the hit man has already killed his guard as well. Many other speculations run through his mind. He is really terrified. Just to make sure, he decides to enter the house. It is too dark to see anything. It is a little weird that all the lights are out. He is hastily groping the walls to find a light switch. As soon as he finds the switch and turns the lights on, the house is full of art paintings of blood everywhere.
“Shit . . . got him, too?”
Anij’s guard is lying on the floor with his guts open, and so is his wife. Hand strokes on the walls and floor clearly tell him that they were suffering and trying to stay alive. But they just couldn’t make it to the door.
Without a word, Anij gets out of the house quickly. Another abrupt sorrow hits him hard. Maybe this time it is harder. He doesn’t want to see another corpse ever again, especially someone that he actually cares about. He doesn’t know where to go. His other guards — or anyone else that he knows — might also be as dead as ants on the street.
There is no time to panic. He has to find a way to survive right now. The road is his worst enemy when he has nowhere else to go. He quickly checks under the seat. That is where he usually keeps his wallet and some other legal documents. Luckily they are there. As his mind is nowhere to be found, he is constantly making turns for no reason.
After driving for hours, a road sign appeals strongly to him. That is a sign to the airport. He makes a quick turn and gets to the airport. He exits his car and leaves the car in the no-parking zone. Then a security guard comes up to him.
“Hey! You can’t park here.”
“Do whatever you want, okay?”
“Okay. I am just trying to do my job.”
Without listening to the security fellow, Anij just runs inside. No one should underestimate the power of desperation. He doesn’t need anything if he does not have Samantha. It is about time for him to realize what is important. His priority has been flushed down the toilet for a long time, when it comes to Samantha. But the clock is ticking on a time bomb that he is carrying now. Sweat soaks his shirt. A natural instinct tells him to move on and start a new life somewhere else. Remorse won’t give him another chance, like a closing door.
Right in front of him there is a big world map showing all the continents. Surely he has heard about many different places from other people. But he is not sure if any of those places are where he wants to make a fresh start just like a newborn baby. He keeps on looking at the map. But nothing stands out. His eyes are only getting busy. He just wants to get away as far as he can. It doesn’t matter if it is the opposite side of the earth. He checks out Australia. It seems to be far enough. And he knows that they speak English there.
But somehow the distance isn’t the answer for him. So he points out somewhere else randomly. His finger lands on France. Surely he is a gourmet seeker, but food won’t fulfill the rest of his life. Plus he doesn’t speak French. So his eyes start to wander around once again. Then, beside the map, he sees an advertising poster. It says, “Welcome to Hawaii. The land of sun and relaxation. Your true vacation starts here!” And there is a couple walking along the beach. His eyes fall on the female model. She is wearing a bikini swimsuit. Then it hits him hard. He again scans the map quickly.
There it is. Bikini Atoll. He becomes completely still. His eyes don’t even blink, as if his heart stops. Millions of memories from his childhood spring all across his eyes. Emotion takes over his mind once again. Tears are pouring down. He sighs deeply with countless regrets. It is very hard to even pronounce the name, Bikini Island, in his state of mind. He feels that he would make the place dirty if he went there with everything that he has done. But any hometown is supposed to welcome its own people, no matter what. He tries to justify himself and his past deeds. This might be the last chance for him to make it right; probably his first and last chance. With much determination, he finally decides to head back to his old home. He runs to a desk and asks for a ticket.
“One-way ticket to Bikini Island, please.”
“Where, sir?”
“Bikini Island.”
“I am not sure where you want to go, sir. Let me look it up first.”
Of course she has never heard of the place. She takes some time to find it on the map. Then she checks the air routes.
“Sir, I am afraid there is no airline going to Bikini.”
“There must be! It is a part of the Marshall islands.”
“Oh . . . Okay. Then let me look it up again for you, sir. Just a moment.”
“Can you make it quick? I’ve got to go right now. I mean right now.”
“Just a minute, sir. I am going as fast as I can, sir.”
“Come on! I need it now!”
“Please calm down, sir. It will only take longer if you keep interrupting, sir. Okay?”
“Oh, God. Just find one. Okay?”
“I am doing it, sir.”
He keeps looking around suspiciously. Just about every man looks as if they will kill him in a moment. There are lots of people sitting and reading newspapers hiding their faces. There are also lots of people walking around for no reason. He is very uptight. It is getting worse. He just can’t wait any longer.
“Found one yet?”
“I am still looking for one, sir. The location is very far and not a lot of people go there. So it might take a little longer, sir.”
“Oh, my God . . . Please . . . Please . . .”
“Oh. I got one. It will leave in forty minutes. Is that okay, sir?”
“Yes. Just give me the ticket.”
“Make sure that your passport and payment are ready, sir.”
“Oh, shit! My passport. It is in my car. Let me get it.”
“Okay. I will be here, sir.”
He storms out to get back to his car. Luckily it has not been towed yet. He opens the door and reaches under the seat. And there are the passport and the wallet. He runs back to the desk and hands them over.
“Good. Any preference, sir? Smoking seat? Non-smoking seat? Any disability? Any other special request?”
“No! What — does it look like I need a wheelchair?”
“Then, no . . . What about a smoking seat? I can smell something.”
“I am a chimney maker, okay?”
“Okay, then smoking seat it is. What about a business class? Or a first class?”
“First class.”
“Okay, then, first class . . .”
“Is there anything else? How long does this need to take?”
“Just please patiently wait, sir. I am not done with this yet, sir. Okay?”
“Oh . . . God . . .”
“What about a seat by the aisle? Or a window seat?”
“By the window.”
“Okay, then a window seat. Any duty-free products that you might like to purchase?”
“No.”
“Okay, ‘no’ for duty-free products. Do you have any luggage with you?”
“Do you see any with me now?”
“Okay, then no luggage at all. That would be 976 dollars and 35 cents, sir.”
“What? 976 dollars?”
“And 35 cents. Not a lot of people go there and you have to make three transfers to get to Bikini Island. That is why it is very expensive. And you asked for a first-class seat. That certainly adds up.”
“Okay, whatever. Let me see . . . just do it with my credit card.”
“Okay, sir.”
After a long, dragged-out procedure, she is done with the credit card transaction. He keeps tapping his fingers at the desk.
“Thank you very much, sir. It would be gate number six and seat number 4-C. Have a safe trip, sir.”
“I will be late because of you.”
He runs to gate six. A deep sigh of relief unloads his worries. Before entering the gate, he looks back once again to double-check if anyone is still following him.