A Good Reason

Flash fiction with the words: blanket, lace, question

It is not often that a person is uniformly detested by everyone, especially in kindergarten. Hari was one of the few exceptions. It seems like a blanket statement but there was nothing remotely likable about him.

Thirty years later, I met him again. We were at a conference together. I recognized his name from the speaker bios. He was articulate and engaging.

I walked up to him after the event. He couldn’t remember me at first but his memory came back once I spoke about our school. We exchanged pleasantries.

“People hated me,” he stated in a matter of fact voice. “I guess I asked for it,” he continued. I made a conciliatory noise.

“So, where are you these days?” I asked.

“Oh, I live in Mumbai. Been there ever since I graduated.”

“Great. I come there a lot. Maybe we should catch up sometime,” I blurted.
He looked at me strangely but gave me his phone number.

A few months later I was in Mumbai and on a whim I called him up. He answered the phone and told me to come over. My meeting wasn’t far from his place so I went.

The moment I walked in he had a question “What’s your poison?” It was only four in the evening but I didn’t want sound rude. “Vodka on ice,” I responded.

A few minutes later, we were both sitting in his spacious living room on plush sofas sipping on vodkas.

I felt a twinge in my stomach. My face betrayed my discomfort.

He smiled. “They hated me for a reason, you know. I got caught trying to lace kids’ fruit juices with toilet cleaner.”

The twinge became a wild churn.

“I have since graduated to more sophisticated poisons,” he said in an even voice.