The Umbrella Man

Disclaimer

Hello! I felt like this one needed a disclaimer. The post below is a story that I worked on last month. It is 4634
words long and it is definitely not something that happened to me. In fact, this is one of the first one's that I am
actually posting here. Anyway, know that it is entirely fictional! If you guys like it, leave a comment below,
share it with your friends. :) If you guys don't like it completely, then sorry for wasting your time. If you guys
like it, but find there are some problems with it, you are welcome to drop a comment below or PM me. I hope to submit this to some magazine. :)

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A semicolon rose, leaving a conditional statement unterminated. Seconds later, another set of semicolons and brackets followed it and formed into two matrices. Functions detached themselves from their locations and curved around the matrices and formed an intriguing figure.

That dream fired off a specific corner of my brain, that ran away, raising the alarm.

I had finally cracked under the pressure and started to imagine seductive code.

"No plans for the long weekend?"

I opened my eyes and blinked. A colleague stood near my desk; a brown trolley-bag protruding from behind him. He was trying -- but failing to contain the excitement that flowed out his face. 

So even the office slog has plans for the holidays and I don't. Yay?

Many replies came to my mind.

I could jump onto the desk, pull my hair out and scream, "No! No! I don't! Okay? Get out of my face!"

I could get very, very friendly and hug him. "You are a lucky fellow! Go have fun with your partner! You beautiful human being, you!"

I could just stare at him till he walked away. Yes, that sounded perfect.

"Stuck with this," I said, pointing at the mess on my screen. I scrolled through the lines to add emphasis to my point.

It only ended up depressing me further. Will I even understand this shit after the holidays?

A smile spread across his face. I had to assume that it was a kind smile. That stupid grin coming from a person wearing those shorts, screamed, "Hahaha loser, stew here when I soak in the beach sun!"

The smile stayed on his face a little longer than was appropriate.

Maybe, I should just punch him.

"Well... Good luck... man!" He said, patting me on the back. He disappeared from my side before I could tell him my name or -- better yet, ask for his.

Weeks of repressed frustration threatened to burst out from my mouth. I hated it when people referred to me with a 'man,' instead of using my name.

Hey man, what's up man! Ugh.

There used to be idiots like that in my older office. I tried to recall their names. Mala? Varnan? What was it? Had I forgotten it already? Few more faces...  Only the faces surfaced in my mind. Their features very faint, with flashes of clarity. In a few more months, even that clarity would be lost.

What will happen in a few more years?

The slog rolled his trolley out of the door. The squeals rang in my ears even after the doors closed. I returned to my screen, trying to recollect the line of thought that he had interrupted.

I stared at the code. It stared back at me, clean of any obvious errors . If an IDE was a human being, it was right about now that it would be partying with the bugs in the code.

A tap came from somewhere within the office. I looked up, expecting the window to be open. Of course it wasn't. I didn't belong in offices with open windows anymore.

My display flickered and it felt like a warning from its side before shutting down, unable to face my incompetence.

I rubbed my eyes, clearing those unnecessary thoughts. I had moved to this office for a reason, and I should not let a bad day ruin my motivation.

The taps inside the office grew in their periodicity, and my debugging quest grounded to a halt. I took one last look at the code, contemplating between formatting it, and just leaving to the confines of my single room apartment.

It was the lack of comments in the code that annoyed me the most. I had never been a messy coder. What had happened to me?

Nope, I shouldn't be looking for an answer to that question. Not today.

I saved the files - multiple times, as usual, and left the office.

# 

I stepped out of the lift and turned back, just as the elevator doors closed.

What was I thinking? I cannot go home now! It is only seven in the night -- before a long weekend that too! If I fall on my bed at eleven, it meant... it meant three hours of having nothing to do, no one to talk too.

I stood there in the lift lobby, paralysed and unable to make up my mind.

At that moment, I hoped that some secret entity would turn up and say , "Hello there! I shall be nice and stop time for you. Also, I'll warp space and time to allow you to experience a small period of both of your choices. Then, you can decide!"

In a not very impossible parallel universe. The one in which I had not moved to a new office, I would be off to some bad movie -- getting ready to make fun of it, right about now. With the team... with friends...

I cursed, pulled myself out of that spiral and and summoned the lift. It decided to go up from the fiftieth floor instead of coming down.

I forced myself to turn away. There was no point returning to that depressing environment to be unproductive.

The door to the foyer opened on my approach and greeted me with a smell of antiseptic. My feet slowed down involuntarily as it sensed the wetness of the floor. There was a plop, and a subsequent sound of a mop sliding from somewhere behind me.

 A collection of small lights - possibly LED's, were trying to illuminate the entire foyer. Their larger counterparts had been turned off for the weekend already.

My footsteps echoed off the empty hallway, as I walked towards the exit trying not to feel lonely. But even that thought of the word managed to trigger bad memories.

I stepped out of the foyer into a flash of white light that blinded me, followed by a loud boom that stopped me on my tracks.

Wonderful. Rain. Yay?

#

I raced down the stairs. Getting stuck at office due to rain would be worse than the other two options.

A  roar emanated from the shelter above me. I walked till the edge and peaked out at the street in front of the building.

The volume of rain drops, shaped like needles almost obscured the street lights. The plants that split the road from the taxi drop off point, danced along with the trees, and a gust pushed some of the cold rain on my face.

I retreated back towards the steps, feeling the need to shout at an imagined entity that controlled rain. It felt easier then shouting into a void

Why? Why do you have to pile more shit onto people who are already having a shitty day. Why?

I could  imagine the answer that thing would say, "Its the law of equilibrium youngling. I will also pile on if you have good days, you see?" Then, I might go on to smack that thing on its head.

I cursed again, rather too loud that anyone who knew me was used too, and looked around out of impulse. I retreated further, and settled myself on one the steps to wait out the rain.

I watched with annoyance as my bus rolled down the road. Very few vehicles followed the bus down, but lots of water did. It fell into drains on the sides whose positioning needed a stronger word than appropriate to describe it.

Nothing else of interest happened. Water rushed into the drains that it seemed like it did not want to stay anywhere else. There was no rubbish that floated along in the water to choke the drain, there were no potholes, and no strays seeking the only shelter on the road.

It was all very perfect, and safe. I hated it. I also hated myself for hating it.

Why? No, not the right time to look for an answer to that question either.

I sighed, and considered my options. I took my phone out, and its screen was dark and unresponsive.

I was not sure if I had an umbrella with me, and I did not want to go up all the way to my desk to check if I had one there. Could I run down to the stop?

I imagined myself running down the slope, wind adding to my speed, as the rain water drenched my clothes. Considering my amazing stability of my feet on flat roads, it seemed like a bad idea.

I knew the weather here was temperamental. So I settled myself more comfortably and decided to wait out the rain.

Memories of times spent making paper boats outside my house rose up to greet me despite my resistance to not go down that spiral.

A door opened behind me, and an expensively dressed woman stepped into my view. 

#

The woman had her head bent down over her phone as she walked down the stairs, ignoring the meteorological orchestra in front of her. She stopped just before the overhead shelters end and pivoted to her left without taking her eye of the phone, and continued walking.

The air around me immediately saturated with her perfume, overpowering any chances of me experiencing other smells. Although, there was not much competition to speak off from the road, despite the heavy rain.

She walked past me and hefted the bag hanging from her shoulders. It looked expensive because I did not recognise the brand name. Her smell followed her down the trail while still lingering in front of me.

What did she use as a perfume? Nothing I buy had ever lasted throughout the day. Maybe she refreshes it every few hours? I did not know. But there can be a lot of things said about a person whom you can smell even before they enter a room.

It felt satisfying to make that generalization. I did not push that thought away, even though it was so obviously  wrong. Did I not deserve it after the past few days? That feeling of superiority -- how much ever unearned that it might be?

A flash, and then thunder rolled through from a source somewhere close, shocking me back to reality. Something fell that sounded like a phone.

The girl was trying to squat down, while wearing those shoes that were clearly not made for that posture. She picked up her phone, and stood up, hesitantly looking at the screen. She wiped and tapped it a few times. After few seconds of rushed tapping, she banged it against her left hand.

She -- No, let me give her a name... Rian.

Rian banged her phone a few more times and put it inside her bag. She rubbed her head, and fished inside her bag for something. After a few more moments of frantic searching, she closed her eyes, looked up at the sky, and turned back towards the entrance. Her gaze barely fell on me as she walked past and settled herself next to one of the large support pillars of the shelter.

She stood there for a few seconds, shook her head and started to pace while fiddling with her phone.

Another bus rolled down the street, making sloshing noises as it pushed the water whose volume had become large enough for it to be sloshed. The rain did not look ready to abate anytime soon. Diffused and very faint light fell on the streets below.

This was my cue to leave.

I stood up, and adjusted my bag as something poked my back from it. I adjusted it one more time, and looked out into the rain.

No, there was no way I can run down a slope in my shoes. It would be easy for that running to turn into rolling! I looked down at my shoes and at Rian again, who was pacing back and forth on my right. I had two  options in front of me. Run barefoot down the slope, or go help her out, maybe offer her my phone, both of which seemed like a bad idea. It might also be a good idea. I would never know because people never get to experience parallel universes at once. I wished we did, and it annoyed me a lot that we didn't.

I sighed, adjusted my bag, and decided to go with helping the woman thing. Maybe she will be nice?

#

"Hey, I observed your moves from my position when you exited the building, and I saw you drop your phone. Do you need some help? "

"Why were you looking at me you creep? Of course I don't need your help. Why are you even here if you have your phone with you?"

I did not have an answer to any of those questions.

"You. I am here to help you. I will help you. So take my help without objections."

Yes, that sounded perfect. Confident, strong, arrogant... Ugh.

I walked towards her deciding to say the first thing that came to my mind. After all, I knew I could help her. Both of us had same phones, and my screen was not an improperly stuck jigsaw puzzle.

"Hey," I reached near her, hoping she could hear my voice over the sound of this stupid rain.

She stopped pacing, and pointed at herself, somehow managing to convey the words "Are you calling me?" without speaking.

Of course I called you, idiot. Who else is there in this place?

"Do you want to make a call to someone?" I asked.

She looked at me, her expression unreadable. I braced myself for any response from her side.

"What?" she asked.

"I... You dropped your phone there. So I thought you might want to call someone to pick you up?" I asked,hesitantly taking my phone out and handing it to her. "The phone doesn't have charge, but you could use your battery on it."

She looked at my phone and back at me, "Thank you," she said, and waved her hands. "only my screen is down. I still managed to make a call."

"Oh. Okay," I said, and waited for her reply.

She decided to continue pacing instead. That was not the way I had expected the conversation to go.

It had not turned out as bad as i had expected it to be, but it was still a negative result. Maybe the world was kicking me because of my stereotyping sometime back, but she had reacted the same way I had expected people like her to react. Rian could have done something, maybe offered me her phone?

Why didn't she do that? Annoyance crept through my brain and further pushed me towards a renewed hatred towards my job, my situation, and this place that I had moved too.

Would I have done it if I were her? The rational part of me said yes. But somewhere beyond those layers of maturity, I knew I would not have offered help to someone so obviously different from me.

I snuffed out those thoughts of rationality as annoyance and anger took complete control. Time slowed down agonisingly during the next few minutes. It felt like someone was stretching it out while being  fascinated by the strands.

Rian continued to pace next to me, without another word. Each of her footsteps felt like someone was hitting me with a  small but very heavy hammer.

I waved my hands wildly as a green taxi crossed us, its sound completely masked by the rain. It did not stop, of course.

Stupid rain... I hate you rain! 

#

Something poked at my back again. This was the third time in the last ten minutes. I opened my bag and an yellow umbrella stuck out of the back partition.

I put my hand around the umbrella, and felt an odd tinge on my fingers. Had I stood here for so long with this thing in my bag? I remembered purchasing this sometime back but I had never taken it to work.

Something was definitely wrong here. I refuse to accept that I have become so stupid.

I glanced once more at Rian. She had increased her pacing rate, while also stopping to stare at the road every few rounds.

Maybe I could offer to accompany her till the bus stop with the umbrella. Should i talk to her? She had not made any effort to do so, had she?

Two distinct paths branched out in my mind. One started with me turning back, going to help her, and creating a possibility to have a conversation -- at least an awkward conversation that might lead to a longer one on the bus. The other involved me walking off with the umbrella. I wanted to live and experience both the possibilities, because both of them were more realistic than the usual ramblings in my head.

I thought about it for a moment. Even though parts of my brain were screaming at other parts that I was being stupid, childish, and immature, I decided to let the childish part win. I didn't want anything else to bring me down today.

I started towards the bus stop and was greeted by a flash of lightning with renewed vigour, and it brought along with it, a louder downpour.

It felt as though the rain didn't want me to leave the place and it was almost right. I still ran the risk of slipping down the slope while walking; even if I had an umbrella.

I looked back at Rian one final time. She stopped pacing and threw her hands up in frustration. She picked up her shoes, and then, with one last glance at the road behind us, stepped out into the rain.

I stood there, gaping at her react in a way I had not expected -- in a way I  would have in the past. Water fell on her with joy and seconds later, she was drenched from head to toe.

"Hey! Wait!" I shouted, waving at her. She didn't look back, and continued down the slope. I cursed, and decided I would follow her and put my hands inside my bag for the umbrella.

It was not there.

I opened my bag completely and dipped my head inside. Only trash and the darkness of the insides greeted me. Was I dreaming?

I blinked, and pinched myself. Nothing happened apart from an irritating prick on my wrist. Rian was stepping down the slope, while still looking behind her. I didn't know if she had stopped at my calls because she still seemed to be at the same position she was, moments before.

Had I just imagined the whole thing? But the umbrella! I had touched it!

I put my hands inside my bag again when there was a shout that started  together with another roll of thunder. An old man holding an umbrella was walking down the road with as much pace as he could muster towards Rian, who had stopped.

They conversed for a while, with Rian involuntarily making sure that even someone looking at them from a distance would know that they were arguing. Seconds later, the man held an yellow umbrella above her head.

I moved my gaze away from them and looked up at the sky. It was very difficult to make out the type of clouds above, considering the lack of sunlight.

My bag was still open and empty. Either I had hallucinated the whole thing -- which even though it sounded exciting, I knew was not possible. Or, it had just fallen down somewhere.

I looked around me, searching for any signs of the yellow umbrella.  Had it rolled down in the wind?

The rain had not let go of its intensity and I was sure that there had been a heavy gust sometime back. So, if it had rolled down, it could be somewhere on the road.

I still had my head down as I took a step towards the road and hesitated. The idea of getting wet did not appeal to me at all. So this was it then. I was stuck here whether I wanted too or not, until the rain passed. I should have just left the office early.

"Excuse me," someone said.

The old man with the umbrella was walking towards me, towing a rather embarrassed looking Rian with him. He closed the umbrella, once they were inside the shelter.

I gestured towards myself, and hoped that my expression looked puzzled. From this distance, he looked even more older. His hair was grey and the wrinkles on his face looked more like depressions than lines. What did he want with me?

"My granddaughter has been telling me that you gave her company," he said.

Company? She called that company?

I looked at her, and she nodded after a long period of embarrassed silence. "Thank you sir. It was not a problem," I said.

A content smile appeared on his face. "Would you like to join us till the bus stop?" he asked, opening up his umbrella.

I blinked, having no idea what to respond. At that moment, I understood what must have gone through Rian's head

As an old man, he looked harmless enough, but if someone else obviously foreign, offered me help, would I have accepted it? Was it because I was not used to being offered help here?

"No, sir," I said, "I... I doubt if that umbrella would fit the three of us."

"No, I insist," he said, "please?"

I stared at the sky, trying to make out if the rain was showing any signs of stopping. It did not. So it came to a matter of choosing between two options again. Should I refuse him and be stuck here, or should I leave with him?

This time, I did not have to imagine both the parallel universes.

"Are you sure it will be fine, sir?" I said, stepping towards him without waiting for his answer.

"Yes, it will be more than fine," he said, and lifted the umbrella.

I huddled towards his right, and Rian to his left, and we stepped out into the rain.

#

I took stiff, measured steps as we walked down the slope, and before long even the old man started to bump into me.

Every step felt like the one which would cause me to slip, and every step felt like someone dosed me with anxiousness and then purged it from my body. Rain pounded on the road, the shelter, and the umbrella, making me feel like I had gone deaf.

My hair was the only thing that was saved by the umbrella. My every step was a chore, my clothes were drenched, and weirdly, my left side felt wetter than the right. Water split into four, as it flowed past the heels of my shoes, and a shiver ran through my body.

I am going to slip! I am definitely going to slip!

"Do you mind?" I asked, and held onto the old man's shoulders. It was cold, wet, and rather tight when I touched him. He seemed busy conversing with Rian on his left and I could not hear a single word.

"Sir?" I called.

He did not reply.

"Sir?" I shouted.

I tapped his shoulders and they loosened as he turned. "Are you feeling comfortable?" he asked, genuine content still visible in his face.

"Are you okay sir? Maybe I can move further away so that you can come in," I said, hoping he would say no. One wrong step felt like a sure way to slip and roll.

"Nonsense. Not necessary at all," he said. He pulled me closer, and moved behind us.

"But..."

"No, just come in," he said, "its not very often I see people like you."

As he moved further away, I caught sight of Rian, who was looking at both of us, with an amused expression on her face.

"Could you ask him to not stay so far away?" I asked her.

She said something that I could not hear. She made an action that looked like clearing her throat and spoke again, "He likes to help people," she said, and smiled. "He would like you."

The road's gradient reduced considerably as we neared the bus stop. I looked at her and back at the grandfather, who was now almost out of the umbrella.

But why? I wanted to ask, even though that sounded like a stupid question at the moment.

We reached the crowded bus stop and ran into the shelter, water squelching under our shoes. Rian stepped away, and the grandfather came in last. He took few steps past me, down the slope, and ran hands through his hair, spraying water.

"Why?" I asked.

"Why?" he said, sounding incredulous.

"I mean... Why did you help me?"

"It is not a matter of why, it is the question of why not," he said, unfolding his umbrella again, "in my time, we did this voluntarily. In fact, not many of us even had an umbrella back then. Now, if someone with an umbrella approaches you in the city, you guys are trained to be suspicious."

He waved at Rian, who was probably standing somewhere behind, and pointed at me, "your bus is here," he said.

I turned back and found the bus lumbering towards us with clear indication of free seats. I relaxed at the thought of the comfort of the bus and the bed back home. I turned back to thank the grand father.

He was not there.

I looked back at the bus which was still lumbering towards us, strangely from the same position. My hand was holding a folded up umbrella. My umbrella.

"Thanks," Rian said. She stood next to me with her hair now loose falling till her shoulders. "I would have wasted a lot of time if I had waited for the rain to stop."

I looked at the umbrella in my hand, and felt the difference between the amount of water on my left and right hand side. Several things - rather unbelievable, clicked themselves into place.

"Is your grandfather coming?"

"Him?" she asked, "I thought I told you when we were walking from there, remember?"

I shook my head, my heart and stomach doing funny things at the realisation that I had just experienced.

"He is stuck at work," she said, and looked back at the bus, "anyway, thanks again for offering me the umbrella for the walk. I appreciate it. Is this your bus too?"

I nodded, as the bus rolled down on the decreasing gradient, and finally reached our spot splashing water onto the platform. The driver had not stopped close enough and water poured through the gap, splashing on the few passengers who climbed in.

Rian looked back at me, waved, and moved towards the door. My mouth felt like someone had sown it shut after the events that had just occurred. I just could not bring myself to believe it.

Had I just experienced two options, two universes at the same time? Or had I just hallucinated the whole thing due to sleep deprivation?

I did not know the answer to either of those questions. But, I knew what to do now.

I cut across the line on my side to get closer to Rian. As we reached that open area in between the bus-stop and the bus, I unfurled the umbrella.

"After you," I said, in an exaggerated manner, that made both of us giggle.

The doors to the bus closed, reducing the noise from outside. Rian... No, the girl whose name I was about to find out, was not there on the ground level. I smiled to myself, and started climbing up the stairs, with a single thought in my head.

Dear universe. I got your message. 

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