Superman | Abhinav

Things were anyways not good and they both knew that. It had been going like this for long now and each knew something was wrong. They fought a lot, in those months. Every night when he got home they fought and always there was something to fight over. Sometimes over the food she had prepared for dinner and sometimes they fought over the trivial soap in the bathroom and. And on rare evenings when there bulged into existence nothing over which they could find the common argument she would call her mother and sit endlessly beside the phone. There were times when he would leave the place after they argued without having dinner and return late when he was sure she was asleep. He got used to sleeping on the couch with his legs on the table.
All this was happening and then one evening he took her out for a movie. It was a Saturday and they went to watch Annie Hall, which was playing at a theatre nearby. She wore the pretty green dress with matching shoes that she kept for special occasions. She applied a bit of make-up and he said she looked nice.
On the way the car gave some trouble and stopped a couple of times. But that was all. On the way he told her some funny things that happened at work and she laughed. They talked about her sister’s upcoming engagement. They talked about his raise and how they would move into a bigger apartment when that happened. There were a couple of things and dresses she said she would like and he said sure. Then she said she would love to have a baby. She said a little girl was what they were missing would cheer everything up.
The movie was already a couple of minutes in by the time they reached. The hall was packed and their seats were somewhere in the middle. And when they managed to find them there was this old man sitting with his legs crossed on one. When he saw them he immediately got up and considerately apologised. He, this old man, said he thought these were unoccupied. He smiled shyly and then hurried to his seat that was somewhere down.  
Their seats were comfortable and the viewing angle perfect.
It’s nice isn’t it? He said and crossed his legs comfortably. Seats are nice and big.
Yes. She said. The place is good. Is it new? I don’t think we’ve been here before, have we? We should come here more often.
Sure. He said and passed the popcorn bucket to her. Sure. Why not?

But then something happened. An hour into the movie she excused herself to go the bathroom. But she didn’t come back and when half an hour had passed he too left and looked for her. He had an idea where she would be and asked the teenage girl at the popcorn counter to look for her in the bathroom. Please see if my wife is there in the bathroom, he said. He gave her description of how she looked, what she was wearing. If you find her, he said, tell it’s alright now. Tell her I have the medicine. Tell her to come out and we can go home, he said.
And just as this girl went into the bathroom he, standing there with arms crossed, suddenly realised that he did not want to be there when she came out. He didn’t want her to feel uncomfortable by him standing there waiting for her. He thought about giving her a few minutes alone. So he left, and went back to the movie hall.
The old man was there again, sitting on his seat, just like before. And when he saw him, he promptly got up but he gestured him (old man) to remain seated. He told him it was alright. He asked him to move to the other seat, where she had been sitting. Then he sat down and heard, for five minutes, Woody Allen speak in his usual neurotic Woody Allen way. Then he got up and left.
She was standing and looking at the movie posters and when she saw him she smiled and walked to him. He didn’t say anything when she took his hand. He wanted to say a lot of things but he didn’t. He wanted to ask why she was crying, in the bathroom. Wanted to ask what was wrong. Everything was nice today wasn’t it? He wanted to say. Then why?
Would you like to eat something? He finally said when they were outside.
That would be nice. She said and took his arm.
They noticed this small café on the sidewalk across the street and decided to go there. Big oval Chinese lanterns hanging from the canopy illumined the place in yellow, violet and green giving it a quaint yet cheerful look. A big sign above said Chiro’s Place. There were not many tables, about ten and most of them were vacant. The tables were covered with a plain white cloth and the chairs had an oriental touch to them. A small plain vase with a blooming red rose was the only thing kept on each table.
They sat down on one and she sat facing him. Behind her shoulder he could see the whole street, the colonnaded shops in kaleidoscopic hues and people on the sidewalk walking leisurely taking time to see things. He wondered what kind of person this Chiro was?
What are you thinking? She said.
Nothing. He lied. Nothing at all.
He took her hands in his. They were dry and rough. It was unusual, her hands were always so soft and he loved her hands. After they made love, he always held her hands in his and caressed them. But they hadn’t made love in a while now.
You are thinking something. She said. Tell me.
Nothing. Really I was just looking. He said.
He took the rose out of the vase. It dripped a few drops of water on the table.
Here. It’s for you. He said.
She took it and smiled. She smelled it once and then placed it on the table, near her bag.

A young waitress came and gave them the menu. She was very young, about seventeen or eighteen and her name was embroidered on the yellow apron she wore on her dress. It was embroidered in Green. It was Alice.
They said they would like to have sandwiches. And a couple of cokes. That was all. But then he called her back and asked if it would be possible to have some music. He said anything was fine but she told Alice that he loved Jazz. It was all he loved when it came to music. It will be nice if they could have some jazz, she said. Alice smiled and said she was sure she could do something. And he said it would be a waste of this beautiful night without some music.
It began to drizzle. Thin drops fell with muffed melody on the canopy above their heads.
You love rain. He said.
Yes. She said.
Look how beautiful the street looks. Behind your back. He said and gestured her to turn around and see.
Why don’t you shift your chair here? He then said when she didn’t turn around. The street looks pretty.
No. It’s alright. She said. It’s fine this way.
We should go somewhere. It has been a while since we went somewhere. He said.
She didn’t say anything. She played with the rose.
Let’s go next month. Yes. Tell me, where would you like to go? He said.
I don’t know. She said. Anywhere is fine. Listen…
The sound from the scratchy record floated from the café. Faintly, at first barely perceptible in the pattering rain, it rose slowly till they could hear the serenading singing.
– too fast
I fall in love too terribly hard
For love to ever last…
You know this? She suddenly straightened up and put her hands on the table. It feels I have heard this somewhere. You know how I am when it comes to music. Have you played it before? Is it in your collection?
No. He said. No, I don’t have this. But I know this and it reminds me of this girl who I met in sophomore year. This girl I am talking about played it so very often. She almost played it every night before bed. Then in the morning she again put it on. For a long time I wondered what was wrong with her. I mean if you listen to this the first time, you may as well as wonder what is so different about this guy. And then you have to listen to it again and again; hundreds of times in a month. And when you do that you realise that slowly-slowly it has begun to take over. And eventually, I guess, it took over me too. Things were different then… Don’t you like it?
I like it. She said.

The little boy came from somewhere while they were eating. It was only when he went by their table that they became aware of him, this tall thin boy with freckles on his face. The t-shirt he wore was a size larger and hung loosely from his shoulders. He had a red cloth wound around his neck. And they noticed that there was something amiss in the way he walked, his steps were unbalanced and when he passed by the next time they saw that his right foot was encased in plaster. But the boy didn’t seem to mind the pain, if there was any. He cut across the tables making swishing sounds as he did so. The girl Alice came to watch from inside.
Hiya Alice! The boy said aloud and waved at her. How are you? Guess who am I?
Where his middle teeth should be there was a gap. When he spoke, a faint whistle trailed his words.
Hey Kid! Alice waved back. I am fine. How’s your leg coming along? What are you today…wait…I know…Let me guess…Superman.
You guessed it! The kid said grinned. He did his arms akimbo and put the fine leg on an empty chair. He stood like the macho figure on front page of comics. It was too bad that there was no wind otherwise his red cloth would be fluttering.
A Superman with a broken leg. Alice chuckled. Careful with the leg kid.
It is fine now. Mother said we will go tomorrow to get it removed.  The boy hovered his plastered foot in air.
That’s nice to hear. Alice said. Where is your mother?
She’s back at shop. She’s baking a cake. The kid said and began laughing.
What happened? Why are you laughing? Alice said.
She’s baking a cake for the new lady across the street. She came in some time ago and said she would like a cake. In an hour! She said it was her husband’s birthday today and she just remembered it while taking the afternoon nap. Isn’t that funny?
That’s funny. Alice said and smiled but she didn’t laugh like the boy did.
Hey, where’s Chiro?
Ah, Chiro is not well. He is resting. Alice said. He will be there tomorrow.
Too bad. The boy said pompously suddenly remembering the game. If he were here I would have cured him. There is nothing Superman can’t do.
Alice laughed and was about to say something when a customer called her. The boy again started whizzing around the place again.
Isn’t he cute? She said when she turned her head around.
Yes. He said gently and wiped his hands and mouth with a napkin.
He looked up at the canopy for a while and sipped his coke. Then he got up and adjusted his chair so that he was next to her with his back to rest of the tables and then he took her hand into his.
Listen, he said. I have got to tell you something. I don’t think I’ll be able to make to your sister’s wedding. –
– And I don’t think I am getting that raise. The old man, he doesn’t really like me. I don’t know maybe I won’t even be there next week.-
She opened her mouth to say something but he didn’t stop talking. He kept her hand held tightly in his.
-I am sorry. I really am. I don’t know what else to say. But it is and I didn’t want to tell you. I thought I will make it work somehow. But I don’t know how. I don’t know and I am worried.

For a long time they didn’t say anything and just sat like that looking at her side of the street that opened to the theatre. And they saw two people bend over the ticketing booth outside the theatre. These two appeared to be trying to explain something to the person inside issuing tickets but that didn’t seem to be working. A few minutes later both of them left.
She shut her eyes and rested her head on his shoulder. When she opened them a minute later she saw the little boy was there and he was staring at her. Disconcerted she raised her head and hit against his chin. His lip got cut.
Oh I am so sorry. She said and quickly got hold of a few tissues. I just-
It’s alright. He said taking them from her and pressing them against the cut. It’s alright. It’s just a small cut.
He sucked on his lip.
It’s okay now. He said.
He looked at the boy who had taken a few steps away from their table and stood in the distance sheepishly.
He beckoned to the boy and when he came near he said. Would you like to sit down and have a sandwich? Looks like we’ve got more than we both can possibly eat… And I am sure you are hungry from all that flying and fighting with the bad guys.
The boy said he wasn’t hungry. Is it still bleeding? He asked.
Oh that. It’s fine. Don’t worry kid, these things happen. Have a seat. Come. Have a sandwich. Look there are three remaining. We will all have a sandwich. He said that and put one in his plate and one in hers.
Would you like a coke? We’ve got plenty.
The boy shook his head. Mother says it’s not good. He said. She says it gives stomach trouble when you grow up. She says it has too much sugar in it and that’s not good for your health.
Your mother is right kid. Don’t have these. These are bad. He dug into his sandwich. Come on kid. This is very good.
The boy pulled out the chair and sat uncomfortably.
Does your leg hurt? She asked him when he was comfortable on the seat. How did it happen?
She was smiling now and when the boy saw that he relaxed a bit. I was playing football, he said. Someone pushed me and I fell and then they all fell on me.

The boy ate slowly, taking time to chew before he swallowed a bite and when the two of them were done with their sandwich they sipped their cokes and occasionally glanced at him. He was almost through with when suddenly he stood up and said he had to hurry home. He said his mother would be waiting for him at the shop to deliver the cake and she was a quick tempered lady. Then he said goodbye to Alice who was rearranging the white cloth on a table. Alice asked him to come again the next day, when he would be free of his plaster. She said she will have a treat prepared for him; to come dressed like today, like Superman. Chiro will be here. He will like it, she said.
By the time they left it had stopped raining and the road was all wet and the small puddles here and there shone in light from the lit windows. Their faint, slow footsteps were drowned by heavy, paced ones of others coming and going in all the directions.
On the way back the car stopped twice and she fell asleep with her head against the window. He drove slowly. There was a breeze and it felt good. Occasionally, lightning sliced up the sky but that was very far and although they were driving in its direction, the thunder never reached them. There was nothing on the radio and he hummed the song from the café. He imagined the small boy running tomorrow, free of that plaster on his leg. With a cape fluttering behind (Sure there will be wind tomorrow, he said to himself). The kid will climb a table and jump to the delight of Alice and old (perhaps) Chiro and all others. The kid will stand like he did today, with his arms akimbo, like Superman.

Indian Review | Literature & Fiction | Abhinav writes for Indian Review. Visit for more literature, fiction and poetry