Life's Fiction - contd

by Krishna Chaitanya
(Srikakulam, India)

Back to page 1 of the story

One day, Lucy's aunt (her mom's sister), Mrs. Catherine Wormwood visited their home to see Lucy. On the very day, Mr. Peter Sidebottom, brother of Luis also visited their home to see Lucy. Those two like Lucy very much.
A day later to the unfortunate visit of Peter and Catherine, Mr. and Mrs. Maxwell (paternal grandparents of Lucy, who were divorced long back and living in separate countries) arrived there to see their lovely Lucy.
On the very evening of the old couple's arrival, an old friend of Lucy's mother visited to see her. His name was Glenn Fleming. He also liked the little Lucy very much.
And next morning, another young lady named Josephine Schwarz arrived, saying that she was a school friend of Lucy's mother and now came to see lovely Lucy, as she didn't make a visit at the time of her mother's death.
Mr. and Mrs. Sidebottom were no good in entertaining their uninvited guests, who all came for the young girl. They also very much worried whether Lucy would complain about the ill-treatment. Now there were six visitors in total. And had already been three days over but none had left the house.
Lucy was pretty cool staying with all of them. She loved to stay with people. She's an emotional young girl. She wanted a big loving family. She had had the guts to love any human being from any corner of the world.
The interesting thing here was, all the six visitors had been staying abroad. Yearly once, they would visit India to see Lucy. But the peculiar question had incepted in Mrs. Sidebottom's mind, why all had arrived in the same week? It wasn't a Christmas period either, or any special family occasion. A forebode it's?
On a sun-drenched third Friday morning of this sizzling May, the little Lucy walked along with the six guests, through the countryside which was beautiful around the small village where she lived. The chestnut trees were in full flower and the hawthorn was white along the hedges. To reach the big sanctuary arranged by nature itself, they had first to walk down a narrow hedgy lane for at least a mile. Then they must cross two railway lines, and go round the big lake where wild ducks and coots and ring-ouzels lived. Beyond the lake, over the hill and down the other side, lay the area full of trees where Lucy would always sit alone staring at the peculiar birds every day. She had fabulous ideas for herself. Especially while sitting in this sanctuary. This was all unused land belonging to no one or possibly owned by someone from the ruling authorities and the lake itself was a sanctuary for waterfowl.
"What's the matter?" said Glenn.
"Ah.. who knows?" a voice came from behind him. It's young Peter.
"I got letters from all five of you..." said Catherine.
"What letters?" cried Glenn. "I have never sent a letter." He added with his amazing tone but perplexed. "Indeed I got five letters from all of you separately."
"What the--" yelled Peter. "I never wrote a letter for past six months. After all, I got five letters each signed by one of you separately."
"Ah.. Err.. This is looking so odd," said Mr. Wormwood, puzzled. "Even I got five letters for this meeting from all of you separately. "
"Even I got letters though none of you five I've ever met," came a final but beautiful young voice. It's Josephine's.
"I've send them to all of you separately claiming a signature from other five," the little voice came slowly. It's Lucy's voice and amid her words she's grinning.
"Why sweet heart?--"
"Why honey?..."
"But why darling?...."
"But why?.."
"Why Lucy, dear?...."
"Why?...."
The six distinct voices came almost simultaneously. A lull for a while until Lucy spoke.
"To kill Isabella," said she coolly. All the six jumped at once. Josephine almost fainted in shock. All enlarged their eyes and staring at the little girl in bolt from the blue.
"What?" this time same word came from six mouths and simultaneously.
"Yes," said Lucy, suddenly shifting her face and voice dangerously. "And I didn't expect you all ask me WHY! She's a monster. I didn't much care about myself. But when the same ill-treatment she has started to my lovely Mona, I couldn't put up with for a minute. And Mona's only three now. When Mona and I were on terrace with rice pudding earlier this year, she dragged her downstairs and hit her badly. And that blood-sucking monster didn't know how to love kids. OK. I'm a useless one for her," she went on as now tears pouring down heavily. "Isabella, but wasn't Mona her own daughter? And do you know? Do-you-know-- she didn't even want to name her--to my little love. What on earth worthy, this beast?"
"So what's your plan, darling?" said Peter.
"Ah..." said Lucy laughing mechanically through her tears. "The murder might've already been happened. The monster should've been dead by now."
"What?" jumped Mr. Wormwood.
"How on earth, dear?" said Mrs. Wormwood, flabbergasted.
"Hmm... Mona should've done it by now."
"Mona?" cried all the six at once. "But she's only three!"
"Hmm... I've been teaching Mona a small practice for past few weeks," said Lucy, stopped crying. "I used to prepare tea for Isabella at ten every morning. And the tea cup used to be placed on a small table. Then Mona would take two sugar pills from a blue box placed on the same little table, and toss them into the sizzling tea. After a minute or two, Isabella would clutch it firmly and stir it for herself and drink." She paused here for a while to give a ghostly laugh. Then went on, "accustomed to the routine, just before we came out, I prepared tea and placed it on the little table, beside the blue box. Today, the blue box contained only two pills, but not they were sugar pills. They're poison pills. My friend Rama has given to me."
"But--" a voice came but stopped before finding whose it was.
"So I have called all of you to visit here this week for an important discussion about me, but only claimed letters were written among yourselves," went on she, "and now when the murder committed, we're all here. The greatest living detective on earth also can't find this peculiar mystery. Even if one find it's a murder, they doubt all of you. But one couldn't prove it. Because none of you did it. And even I won't. Because you all love me and cannot complain on me. Even one or two among you go against me, you cannot prove."
"But we have letters...." said Josephine but only with a smile.
"The first person who won't believe it will be my dad himself. He never accept that I've written a letter. Because for him I'm an uneducated and I don't know how to read and write any language in the world. Poor daddy..... He don't know that I know languages more than him. And I'm writing a novella by myself. He could stop me from going to school but couldn't he lock my brain, could he?
"Even if the greatest detective come to handle the case," she went on, chuckling. "One will discover the murderer was Mona, a three year old child. An impossible case. And I think no act was yet written for such a crime.
"Come on," said she laughing loudly. And it seemed she's the only one making a noise in the entire world. "We have to make arrangements for the Isabella's death ceremony. And I've to take care of my little brother and sister until dad got inspired for a third marriage." And she thought to herself, "Life's fiction... hardly real it was."
The End

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