The Tattooed Neighbor

It was 7 P.M by the time I wound up arranging everything in the new apartment I just got in. I read too much to follow the proverbial phrase of taking a step back to have a fulfilling look at how neatly have I arranged my apartment, and grinned to myself. I was, as usual did my best.

At twenty five, I had a job I love doing, I have been posted at different places across the country, learnt and grew up in the past couple of years, and finally got posted in a metropolitan city where I finally ticked off an important thing off my bucket list; renting an apartment to live all by myself; my ticket to independence.

While my mom did try to scare me off saying that living in a home by myself meant coming back home after a tiresome day to dishes that are waiting to be done and vegetables that are waiting to be cooked, but if she knew me any well, she knew they aren’t going to scare me off. In fact these mundane things were my energy. I loved cooking for myself. I love to have the simple nest that my abode would be, from where I hardly move my ass out.

I grinned to myself after a tiresome Sunday, more than half of which, I spent cleaning and arranging my apartment, making it shine, and twinkle. I decided to cook for myself, the first dinner at my home, to celebrate, and read a book till wee hours of the morning. There were two more days for my joining, so I could sleep till late morning tomorrow anyway.

Getting excited, I connected an old but dear gift, my radio in the kitchen, and played a radio station which played old melodious songs, and got to work. Half way through my cooking, had it started. Somebody playing drums, which sounded as close to me as if they were playing it right next to me. As if it wasn’t enough, the one who’s playing the drums clearly suck at it, big time. Five minutes passed and I felt my head pound.

I increased the volume but the drums sound didn’t sound any less, and I was left to a pounding headache, and mountainous irritation. Maybe the day long tiresomeness was also kicking in, because of which I ended up ditching my plan of cooking for myself and ended up ordering in Chinese food, and ate it sitting in my bedroom, where the pounding music was sounding less in volume.

A week passed and this continued. There was no drums sound the entire evening, every day, but started the moment I stepped in to cook dinner for myself. It was coming from the next flat, I observed, and after eating from outside for a week now, I thought enough was enough, and finally decided to confront the reason for my slow death.

I knocked on the door, and tapped on the floor restlessly, and tried to put on a pleasant persona when the door opened to reveal a teenager, who checked me out, and gave a sort of appreciative look to me, showing clearly that he approved of my assets.

“Hi” I tried not to sound ice cold.

“Yo” he said nodding at me.

Kids. I murmured vehemently.

“I just moved in to the next flat.”

“Cool” he gave me a grin, as if I invited him over. Narrowing my gaze at him, I asked rather icily “Aren’t there any elders at home, kid?”

That seemed to put him off, as he stopped chewing his gum unimportantly and looked at me annoyed.

“Who’s it?” a manly voice was heard from behind, and I saw the boy standing before me, turn towards the person that was approaching from behind and speak “Some chick”

“Look kid—” I began hotly, only to find the door wide open to reveal a man roughly my age, or even a couple of years older to me stare at the teenager with a bored annoyance. “You got to go back and practice, else you would either kill the dog with your music or create a hole in the wall”

That shut the younger boy up, as he stalked off, muttering profanities under his breath, making sure he’s quite audible to us.

“I heard that” the older man said, shutting the boy off completely, as he turned his green eyes to rest at my face.

His stand changed as he saw me, his eyes suddenly less irritated, even can be called slightly warmed up. His over six foot and wide shoulders and strong arms made him tall and strong before me, almost making me appear like a mouse before his well-built body.

A tattoo peeked from under his sleeve, and the long hair of his touched his neck at back, while fell somewhat into his eyes over his forehead, giving him a boyish charm.

“Yes?” he said stopping my assessing him in between.

Before I could open my mouth to speak a word, I heard the torture of drums sound from behind, and winced mentally.

Cursing under his breath, the man closed the door behind him, bless his soul! But not before turning to murmur something in a language I didn’t understand, making the violent drums change into something more bearable, if that was even possible.

As him and me stood in the hallway, with only a slight sound of stupidly played drums in the background, I stared at the well-built neighbour of mine and realized lately that his physique was intimidating to say the least. In this less space of a hallway, standing right before me he looked more powerful than ever, and I thought back on my decision to give him an earful.

“Sorry, Tony could be a nasty fellow” he said finally.

“I saw that” I said unpleasantly.

“But he isn’t a bad boy. Just going through some rough phase”

I nodded understandingly, finally mellowing down. “I was a nasty person myself when I was his age”

At this, I saw his eyes twinkle interested, as he noted me amused.

“What?” I asked self-consciously.

“Nothing, trying to picture you rebellious and bratty”

“I am bratty”

“If you say so” he said, but his eyes crinkled more, amused.

“Hey, don’t go on outer appearances. I may appear like a mouse, but I can be a pain in the ass”

Half way through my tirade, I realized just what I was speaking and to whom. Why was I being over familiar with a person I barely met anyway?

“You don’t appear like a mouse” he had said “Far from it actually”

It stuck to me that he was flirting. It came as a surprise, because he didn’t seem that cheapo who would flirt randomly with anyone. In fact he looked partly charming, if I allowed myself to admit.

“Umm well” I said rubbing my nose self-consciously “Actually, I moved in recently next door”

“Oh” he said turning back, acknowledging 306, and turned back to face me. “Oh” he said again, slightly smiling.

“And I hear drums around the same time every day”

“Detention for Tony” he said lazily.

“Detention?”

“Yes, the kid tried his hand at something he shouldn’t. So that’s what he ought to do every evening.”

“What did he do? Drugs?”

“No, thankfully. Caught with porn”

“Oh”

“At his home, on his parent’s wedding anniversary, when half of the invitees saw the kid caught”

“Oh” I said feeling suddenly sorry for the kid. “That must be hard on him”

He looked mildly surprised at the comment. “I think. Yeah”

“It might be embarrassing for him. He wouldn’t take it well if he’s ashamed before a crowd of people. Please tell me he wasn’t given a speech before the crowd”

“No” he smiled “No, I bought him along with me, instead. Just said he would stay with me for the summer”

“And this is your idea of detention?”

“Well, this and taking the dog on a walk early morning”

“Right” I said distasteful “What the kid needs is somebody to talk to right now, not having him to be bossed around as if he did a blunder. What he did was a mistake. Not a crime”

He gave me another smile. “He hates being called a kid” he told as a prelude. “I don’t think lecturing would work on grown-ups.”

“Detention does?”

“He’s learning something”

“You think? That’s less of a detention to him, and more of a torture to the listeners”

“He is just a beginner”

“It would take him more than one summer to even learn it. Does he even like it?”

“He seems taken with Guitar more than drums” he said as an afterthought.

“See” I said throwing my hands up frustrated. “You know what, let me handle him. If you can do me a favour, join him in some guitar classes”

“You’ll handle him?” he asked baffled.

“I meant, I will talk to him”

“And he would listen?”

“He would. That’s a part of my job. I’m a Psychologist” I said belatedly.

“He would hate it if he knows who you’re”

“I won’t tell him of course” I told him.

“Why do you want to do this?” he asked slightly curious.

“I am not doing it for free.” I said flatly “Just promise me he would never let him play drums again”

He laughed now, a rich rumble originating deep from his heart.

“So, there’s a personal gain attached to it, I see”

“Hey, this is a win-win situation. It’s a give and take”

He scratched his chin thinking aloud, “Why should I trust you with my kid?”

I narrowed my eyes, and miffed, said the first thing that crossed my mind “He isn’t your kid”

“I am his god father” he said flatly.

“Yeah okay, what is your point?”

“Tell me a reason to trust you with him. For all I know you could be doing this because you got no clients”

My mouth hung open, at his words.

“Hey! Just because I’m offering something out right, you don’t get to judge me. You don’t even know me”

“How don’t we rectify it then?” he said with a enigmatic smile. “I will get to know you before trusting you with him”

I opened my mouth slightly, and closed it, not knowing what to say at him asking me out so subtly. At his smile, I felt my toes curl, and bought time by taking a gulp or two.

“Well…”

“For the sake of stopping the drums…” he teased me and I groaned inward.

“And why should I trust you with me?”

“Because I can be a complete gentleman when I put my mind to it, and people say I’m a good conversationalist and also, I plan to take you to the coffee shop few blocks away which is safe for you, and serves excellent coffee”

I had to make sure I didn’t smile, as I thought of answering him.

“Twenty minutes is all I give you. If I feel anything not right, I will leave”

“Twenty is good” he grinned at me.

“I will pick you up?”

“I stay next door” I said wrinkling my nose.

“Ya, but you might need time to dress up”

“Five minutes is all I need” I scoffed, but made a check what all I should do in these five minutes. Brush my hair, and wash my face. Yeah, that much would be fine for a favour date.

“Five minutes it is then” he smiled at me. “Tick, tock. Tick, tock” he said looking at his watch, making me dash to my door.

“Hey” he called out to me, making me stop with my hand at the door knob.

“I would like to know the name of my date”

“Sneha” I said, slightly breathless both by the making a dash to the door, and by him calling me his date.

“Aaron” he grinned at me “Aaand four minutes thirty seconds left”

I closed the door on his grinning face, but stopped on the other side of the door, smiling to myself a little, at the strange conversation I have had which ended up in an unexpected set of events.

My date, I heard the voice of my tattooed neighbor in my head and decided to order my coffee bitter, in order to balance the sweetness I felt in my heart.