Chapter 6: Amelia's What?

'This is insane. Completely insane,' John kept chanting. His teeth chattered as he sat pillion on my bike.

'Ready?' I said, putting on my helmet.

'It's freezing.'

'Zip up your jacket.'

'It's late. We are so drunk. Why do we have to go now?'

'It's Amelia, Fatty. She herself invited me. On her birthday.'

'Meet her in the morning. I am sleepy, bro.' He rested his head on my back.

I kick-started the bike. The vibrations of my Enfield woke him up.

'You are not even a young like old days bro. How will you get from Villa wall .?' John said. His voice vibrated along with the bike. Her Villa is Inside the Campus of MIT.

'I have my old ID if some problem arises.'

We left the compound of my house and headed out towards the Outer Ring Road to reach the MIT main gate, a ten-minute drive.

'Slower, dude ,' John said. He held my shoulders tight. 'My stomach doesn't feel so good.'

'Don't puke on me, okay? Tell me to stop if you need to.'

'Slow down, anyway. There could be cops.'

John was right. We had so much whisky inside us, the cops' breathalyser would probably blow up.

A police checkpost came up ahead, two hundred yards before the MIT main gate. A cop signalled us to slow down.

'Damn, we are dead,' John said.

'Wait,' I said. I slowed down the bike, as if to comply with the policeman. I brought the bike to a halt a few steps from him. However, I did not shut the ignition. Two other cops walked towards me. In a second, I put the bike into first gear and zoomed off. I could hear the cops scream from behind.

'What the hell was that?' John said and turned around. 'They have Cars too. They will chase us.'

'Take out my ID. It's in my jacket pocket. Quick.'

As John fumbled and pulled out my old MIT student card, I reached the gate.

'James Williams, East campus,' I said, with the same confidence as when I was a student. I didn't remove my helmet.

'ID?' the security guard said.

John flashed my old ID. He hid the 'valid until' date with his finger.

It is amazing how even under alcohol's influence, the brain knows how to cover its ass from authorities.

As it was night, The MIT security guard let us in.

I tore into the campus. I took the road towards the institute building on the way to Maseeh dorm and towards Amelia's villa.

'Are the cops coming?' I said.

John looked back. 'No. They stopped outside the main gate.'

'They never come inside campus,' I said and grinned.

The cops were familiar with MIT students, who often took their bikes and car for a spin outside at weird hours. For the most part, they left them alone.

'Terrible idea, anyway. Now the cops have your bike number.'

'They won't care.'

'How do you plan to get Near maseeh and in Villa?' John said.

'Like I used to. Mango tree.'

'Seriously, Brother? You are not a Young anymore. You won't just get into trouble with if you fall right. and if you get cought. You will go to jail.'

'Relax.'

I parked the bike fifty meters away from Villa no. 225. The main entrance of the girls' Dorm had twenty-four-hour security. A patrolling jeep also took rounds every hour to check if the guard had dozed off. Her Villa is just around the corner of Girls dorm. The mango tree at the back was the only way I could get in. Villa 225 was the corner area. It was somewhat cut off from the other security post, and was where Amelia had been staying from the time she joined MIT five years ago. It had a big window with a lush green mango tree outside.

Fortunately for Amelia, when she had joined MIT as a PhD student, the much-in-demand Villa room had become available. We used to call 225 'our little home', as this was where we met most of the time. I never took Amelia to my Dorm. Forget the rules, which did not allow girls, I was also aware of how female-deprived the boys there were. Walking in with a Amelia and locking the door of your room—that would just rub salt on their wounds.

Of course, I was not allowed into maseen area as well, which was a strictly girls-only Dorm. However, if you were reasonably agile, the tree outside Villa room 225 had uses apart from yielding delicious mangoes every year. At least one night a week I would climb it. Once at first floor height, I would jump across through the window of 225 and I'd leave before daylight. Nobody ever found out that Amelia had a male visitor. The whole system worked beautifully.

Of course, until we broke up.

John and I walked towards the back of Maseeh to reach the mango tree. I removed my jacket.

'So this is how you used to—' John started, but I interrupted him.

'Shh … low volume, please.'

'Where is her room?' John whispered.

I pointed at her window.

'What if you fall?'

'Done it a dozen times.' I waved my hand airily.

'With Blenders Pride in your blood?'

'Relax, I am fine.' I twisted my body side to side as warm-up. I clasped the trunk with my hands and lifted one leg up to the first branch. I had done this so many times, my movements were reflexive. Once up on the tree, I looked down at John. We whispered to each other.

'You wait here. If anyone comes, cough,' I said.

'How will that help?'

'That's true. It won't. Okay, if anyone comes this way, distract them. Give them some reason why you are here.'

'What? What is a coaching class tutor doing at a girls' dorm at quarter past three in the morning?'

'I don't know,' I said, brushing leaves off my face.

'Brother, you haven't thought this through.'

'It's fine. Nobody will come,' I said and looked up. I climbed a few more inches and looked down at John again.

'Damn. Big problem,' I said. John's face dropped.

'What?' John said.

'I didn't get her a gift.'

'Seriously, brother, that's your big problem?'

'I'm meeting her after years. On her birthday. With no gift.'

'Send her an Amazon voucher later. Now please go up. Just get it over with.'

'No gift, no cake, damn,' I mumbled, pulling myself up with my arms. I noticed that my fitness levels had dropped. I guess teaching maths at SAT Classes didn't keep me as fit as when I was the volleyball captain at MIT campus. I reached Amelia's window. She had kept it slightly ajar for me, just like she used to.

I stretched out my hand to push the window wide open so I could enter. The room lights were switched off. Maybe she had gone back to sleep. Or maybe she was pretending to have done so in order to enhance my surprise.

Amelia had a bit of lazy in her, just as I did. At least she used to. Maybe that is why we connected in the first place.

The branches had grown since I last climbed them. Instead of jumping into the room as before, I simply hooked one leg over the windowsill. I held the window frame with my hands and pulled the rest of my body in.

'Happy birthday to you,' I sang softly as I shut the window. I tiptoed into the room, my eyes adjusting to the darkness. I only heard the mild hum of the convection heater in response.

'Happy birthday, dear Amelia,' I continued to sing, standing near her bed.

She's the one who had invited me. However, I couldn't presume she'd be okay with me sliding under her sheets and hugging her like old times. No, I couldn't just cuddle her. We weren't together anymore, I reminded myself.

But she did say she missed me, a voice in my head said. I took out my phone and switched on the torch. The white LED light lit up wherever I pointed it. I saw Amelia in bed, fast asleep. The quilt almost covered her face.

'Amelia,' I said, my voice soft. I did not want to startle her.

'It's James. I am here,' I whispered again.

She didn't react. I found the bedside lamp's switch with the help of the phone flashlight. Watery light filled the room. Amelia lay in bed, covered in her white quilt with pretty pink flowers printed all over it.

'Hey, birthday girl,' I said. 'It's me, I'm here to wish you.'

No reaction. Okay, nice acting, very cute, I thought. I looked around her room. She had a bundle of white paper sheets, probably study material, on her bedside table. Her iPhone lay on top of the study material, and was connected to a charger. Like always, Amelia had Johnson's Baby Lotion next to her. She applied it on her face and body every night, and always smelt like a baby.

'Hey, Johnson's baby,' I said, 'wake up.'

I placed my hand on her shoulder, over her quilt, and shook her gently.

She didn't move.

Had she been drinking, too? Maybe those were drunk messages, I thought. Is that what made her call me to her room? She sounded pretty articulate though. Was she acting? Was it her way of making me wait? Or maybe even making me get into bed with her, without actually asking?

My mind grappled with the alternatives. It was so hard to be a guy and choose what action to take with a girl sometimes. A part of me wanted to be bold and go for it.

Slide into bed with her, kiss her happy birthday, that voice said. Okay, maybe not on the lips but on the forehead. Forehead kisses are fine, right? another voice said.

No. Don't ruin it. She's called you over. Let her decide the pace, a counter-voice, total killjoy, said.

With reluctance, I chose restraint. But acting or not, I had to wake her up.

I shook Amelia's shoulder again, this time with more force. She didn't budge. I pulled the quilt away from her face. She lay there still, as if in deep sleep.

'Okay, Amelia, enough jokes. I came to wish you in person. Happy birthday.'

She didn't react.

'Are you going to wake up?' I said.

No answer.

'Amelia, I know what will work. I will slip into bed with you. That will make you wake up.' My breath caught on a laugh.

She still didn't respond, so I bent to push her a bit, to make space for me. It felt heavy.

'Amelia,' I said, this time my voice loud. 'Are you okay?'

I touched her forehead. It felt ice-cold. My heart pounded hard.

Something was wrong. I pulled the quilt down further from her face. Her neck had dark red marks on it.

'Amelia, baby,' I said. I touched her cheeks, eyes and ears in quick succession. Everything felt cold.

'Wake up,' I said, I don't know to whom in particular. I switched on the main light in the room. The light from the bright hundred-watt-bulb made me scrunch my eyes at first. However, it also let me see Amelia clearly, lying absolutely still.

'Amelia,' I called out loud. I brought my fingers close to her nostrils. I felt nothing. I had seen in movies how they check someone's pulse. I lifted up Amelia's thin, cold wrist. No pulse. I tried checking it a few more times.

Nothing.

Amelia was … dead?

I felt nauseous. I needed air. I stood up and pulled the window wide open. I looked down. Under the moonlight, I could make out John. He stood there, shifting his weight from one leg to the other. He noticed me at the window and waved to check what was going on. He pointed a finger down, suggesting I come back. I couldn't respond. I tried to throw up but couldn't. Confused, John threw up both his hands in exasperation.

I turned back into the room. No, my Amelia couldn't have died. This was a bad dream. I stood still and stared at her body, hoping she would wake up.

The phone vibrating in my pocket jolted me. I picked up John's call.

He spoke in a naughty, teasing voice.

'Bro, what's going on? You went back in. Getting lucky? Should I stay or leave?'

'John,' I said and stopped.

'Yes?'

'John, come up.'

'What?'

'Just come up.'

'Why are you calling me to your girlfriend's, or ex-girlfriend's, Villa room?'

'I beg you, John, come up,' I said, close to tears. He sensed something was wrong.

'Will Amelia be fine if I come up?'

'Come,' I said and hung up. I went to the window again. I pointed the phone flashlight at the tree trunk to help him.

He looked around nervously and lifted a leg to climb. The mango tree creaked. They are designed for monkeys, after all, not overweight, ninety kilo humans.

'Careful. Now put the left foot on the next stump,' I whispered as he reached closer. Fortunately, nobody heard the commotion on the tree this late at night.

He placed his leg across the window. I pulled him in.

'What's going on, brother?' he said.

I shut the window and bolted it from inside.

He saw her lying in bed.

'She's sleeping?' he whispered. 'You haven't woken her up yet?'

'She's dead,' I said.

John jumped back a step.

'What?'