BEING NORMAL

According to the dictionary, the word "normal" means constituting a norm, standard, level or type which is not abnormal, and it is law of the jungle that a dictionary is modern day bible.

Her life, by all models and patterns, was normal; she was a distressed being, with an even more distressed brother and parents who would merrily dance over each others graves if only jail were not invented.

Life was pretty normal till her father quit his job and altered his during dinner wine conventions with after dinner vodka etiquette. Apparently he was "fed" up of life, whatever that meant, and wanted to pursue his opportune vision of becoming a writer. "I say you've absolutely lost it,showing acute signs of dementia. I married a fright, an absolute loonie alright, but you're not twenty anymore. Think about the children for heavens sake, Ameto, this is outright madness", howled Rivka the day he had announced his lustrous plans.

"My love, I swear I saw her. I saw my grandmother, and she said I had to write, I had to."

"You're crazy. I can't even, I mean WOW! Sarah, Som, listen to this! Your father has decided to transfigure his life because his dead grandmother has arisen from the dead and asked him to write literary fiction!"

"Rivka, I dreamed of her, Don't joke about this. Im serious."

"Joke!? My life is falling apart, my husband communicates with dead grannies, my job sucks, my children are probably doing drugs, and you think I'm joking! Ameto, marrying you was truly, generously catastrophic."

This was again, very normal for her household, so she disregarded the yelling with mental agility and trotted towards the room. The metal of the doorknob felt cold against her sweaty palms. There he was, head in his hands, shaking all over.

"Som, are you okay?", she asked closing the door. Out of the frazzled and flecked seventeen years of sharing a room with Som, she had never seen him cry, even in childhood. He didn't react to her question though. She unnervingly sat down beside him, adjudging whether to touch this mess of a brother or not. To her modulated relief, he looked up at this point.

"I think, I think I did something terrible Sar"

"Hey, im your soul sister. You can, correction, you have to tell me."

"Its not like that Sarah , you would hate me.But it wasn't my fault, I swear it wasn't my fault."

"What wasn't?"

"Don't hate me for this please. They forced me to do it. I didn't want to I swear, and she said she was fine with it in the starting. I didn't want to, they made me do it, I swear."

"Som, I love you so much. I trust you, tell me."

"I think, I think I raped somebody"

Both the siblings sat together, side by side, like they used to ten years back after sharing a forbidden secret. Both of them were staring out of the window, with those same grey eyes tinted with shades of green. For an instant it felt like they were two beings bonded by an invisible rope of deeds, while the smell of fresh lasagna filtered through the window advancing inch by inch.

"No you didn't", she finally said, as if giving out a verdict.

"Im telling you"

"And I'm telling you Som, you didn't. Thats that. Were you alone?"

"No."

"All the more better, you were forced, you said so yourself, this is no big deal."

"But I feel awful Sar, I really do."

"I feel awful, you feel awful, everyone feels awful Som, but that's just the way it is."

"I just, I don't know."

"Exactly, you don't know. What are you planning to do anyway? Walk down the station and go, I think I raped a girl please jail me? Only, you can't do that in real world Som, unless of course, if you talk to dead grandmothers like dad."

Both of them cackled at this.
"Who was it by the way?"
"Marika."
"Luca's step sister Marika?"
"Yuh."

xxx

This was it. This was where they met every evening since they were twelve years old. She was indisputable of the fact that this was what love felt like, exhilarating and wait worthy.She had never told about Luca to anyone, not even Som. She wanted this bit of her life to be her unique cryptography, her own entirely.

The ruined house was a wreck to the world and a temple to her. As always, she was strategically fifteen minutes late. Luca's brown waves had an exclusive luster, even in pitch darkness.

"I've heard that the woman who owned this house was murdered by her gardener."

"How do you know?"

"Because I happen to be the gardener."

"But I love gardeners", she chimed in cuddling him like a baby.

On their way back home, she couldn't forgo and ended up asking,"Marika is your sister?" At the mention of Marika's name, both of them flinched. Her mind started racing. What if Luca knew? What if Marika shared everything with her mighty step brother? Would Luca leave her, or would he tell everyone, or worse, could he threaten her?

"Of course she's my sister", answered Luca walking two steps ahead of her now. "But not biological, right?", she continued fearlessly. "Marika is a beautiful girl, and she's my step sister. So yes, I'm not related to her by blood."

Her relief was brilliantly grand, beyond words, across gestures.
xxx

She entered a radically civil sounding house. No cries, no outcries, no shattering of crockery, there had to be some veritable misdeed.

On entering the hall, her eyes fell upon a scene she had forgotten to picture. Ameto and Rivka were seated side by side, neatly, on the main sofa, as if waiting for a public bus to arrive. Som was sitting on one of the side sofas, eyes fixed on the table. With the table adorned with cakes of discrepant shapes and sizes, her entry was the only thing which seemed to complete this happy picture.

"What's the cake for?", she asked everyone, looking only at Som. Som answered her a blank face, with redder and puffier rimmed eyes than yesterday.

"What, are you all talking to ghosts now?", she started raising her voice. "Sit down Sar, don't make a scene and hear us out, let's act like humans for a change", Rivka said in an unctuous tone.

"You people don't get to talk about making scenes and acting human", she fired back. "She's right", said Ameto, already looking tired.

After four counted deep breaths, full exhalations and inhalations, Rivka announced in the deepest tone she possessed,"We, your father and I, have decided to leave each other and live again."

The room became sultry and still. The whole scene reminded one of a paused video tape. How all the characters have tranquilized expressions, as if waiting for the restart button to be pressed. There were no gasps, no coughs, no nods, just a noiseless room with four beings and various cakes.

The silence was broken by Ameto this time," You people and Rivka are going to live with Daphne till things get sorted out. After that, I'll go to Israel for two months. If any one of you wants to join me, you're more than welcome. We all need a break after all."

The pause button was pressed again for three minutes this time. "Why would you go to Israel?", Sarah asked finally.

"Oh don't bother to ask that honey! The dead grandmother suggested that Israel would help him find a new partner and kick start a new life at fifty seven", Rivka said with a pasted smile so broad that her front tooth were smeared with lipstick.

"Atleast I do not possess gay partners to enjoy bus rides with", shouted Ameto with an animated face. The two children, for the first time, fully looked up, eye balls springing out of their sockets.

"WHAT!?", Som burst.
"Yes, your mother likes women, no wonder our marriage never worked out", blurted Ameto.
"NO I DON'T. Stop lying like that you sick, sick monster.What kind of a father are you? It was just a kiss, that's it. I'm not gay for heavens sake", retorted Rivka, visibly embarrassed.

By this time, everyone, except Sarah looked like those boiled uncapped potatoes which are too hot to be touched how much ever you try.Faces red, saliva spitting out with every curse, nostrils flared. However, our Sarah seemed to be aloof. She waited for them to debate a bit more, regret about doing the wrong thing a bit more, mocking dead people a bit more, and then she knew.She knew she couldn't wait any longer.

She stood up calmly, then thrust her face into the largest cake as vigorously she could. The pause button, was yet again pressed, but for lesser time this time as she had to look up and breathe.
xxx

"Remember we slept like this when one of us got scolded?"

Sarah had cried, taken a bath, arranged an urgent meeting with Luca the next day and worn the fluffiest night gown she owned. With this preparation, she tightly hugged Som's back and tried to drift off.

"Sar, I think I will go to the police."
"People get separated all the time, what will the police do baby brother?"
"No, I meant about Marika."
"Sleep Som, we all have had a long day."
xxx

For reasons not even known to herself, Sarah ditched her fifteen minute late strategy and raced to the ruined house at the exact time. The door was open as always. Her heart raced and beat and thudded, as she braced herself for telling Luca that they would have to run away, preferably taking Som along. She was so preoccupied in thinking, that she missed a skirt. She was so preoccupied framing words, that she missed a bra. She was so preoccupied, but no she wasn't. She wasn't when she saw a tangle of two beings, both known to her.

Luca stared, mouth open. Sarah would probably just have changed from preoccupied to occupied if this were any other random girl, but she jumped straight from preoccupied to suicidal when she saw Marika, laying down at her place.

"You're, you're early", Luca managed.
"Yes, I had to be early at least once", she turned and left.
xxx
The cliff was high enough, especially with the cold currents downstairs, how she wished there were actual stairs or a tunnel to slide down. But this wasn't time to waste. She prayed exactly for eight minutes. One minute for Som, and the other seven minutes for him not confessing it to the police. At the ninth minute, she did it.
xxx

It was cold, but Graziano's home made coffee was warmer than ever. This cup of coffee, he mused to himself, was his only hope, only partner in this world of terrible crimes. His noble thoughts were interrupted by a haggard looking young man rushing towards his desk. He was out of breath, yet with all energy he could muster, he claimed he had to confess something terrible.

Graziano cursed his father for pushing him into this unrepentant career of the forces. Now how cruel can a career be, that it denies a man his morning coffee over some teenager's doltish confession?