Brown Boy

By P.S. Nissim

Something lurks among the trees...

Hitesh lost his son in these mountains years ago. They tried to tell him it was a wild animal that took the child on a stormy night. But Hitesh remembers the scratching sound outside his window; he remembers the door that yawned open by itself. Most of all, he remembers the story of the mysterious, legendary creature said to haunt these dark jungles. The one everyone is afraid to talk about.

Now he’s back to find out the truth...

• Language: English
• Publisher: Blaft Publications
• Release date: Jul 25, 2023
• ISBN: 9789380636429

P.S. Nissim

P.S. Nissim is a fan of Ray Bradbury, Stephen King, Shirley Jackson, Algernon Blackwood, Donald E. Westlake, Surender Mohan Pathak, and Patricia Highsmith. He reads and writes on his daily commute to work. If he’s producing a lot of writing quickly, it means the traffic was bad in those weeks and he got stuck in jams.

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BROWN BOY

P. S. Nissim

Published in India in 2018 by

Blaft Publications Pvt. Ltd.

© 2017 P. S. Nissim

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, telepathic, neuromorphic, or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publishers.

ISBN 978-93-80636-42-9

Blaft Publications Pvt. Ltd.

4/192 Ellaiamman Koil St.

Neelankarai

Chennai 600041

www.blaft.com

Acknowledgements

Thanks to @wordbandar, poet and writer, who critiqued and vastly improved the work.

Thanks also to G.S., who advises me to thank P. and M.

The narrow mountain road curved, and Hitesh saw the homestay again. The feeling in the pit of his stomach wasn’t from the sharp turns of the journey. It was from the building itself. A small two-storeyed house in the tiny settlement of Palong, in the mountainous jungles of Sikkim, a day away from civilization. Dingier than he remembered it from three years ago, but still so ordinary-looking. Belying all that lay hidden.

Like most other buildings here, the house had been built by excavating a part of the mountain slope. The land around the house rose up steeply on either side in a tight clasp, the rear of the first floor touching the mountainside again. The staircase followed the land, to one side of the building. A small clearing next to the staircase had a pile of ashes at the centre and log benches in a circle around it.

He knew the layout of the building. Two guest rooms on the ground floor, three on the first. A balcony extending around the rooms on the first floor, perfect for taking in a view of the snow-capped mountains across the valley as you enjoyed a hot cup of tea. A perfect getaway for a few days. What could go wrong here?

When he’d phoned them to book the room, he’d spoken to some new girl on the staff. A good thing, or they might have turned him away. The corner room on the upper floor—the one overlooking the road and the valley. Yes, I know it’s a little more expensive. That’s the one I want. Now he’d arrived, and his eyes were drawn to the room above him as he paid the taxi driver for the long drive. It was the same room he’d stayed in the last time.

The last time he hadn’t travelled alone, though.

The staff had all changed. The place had been new then; now it was a well-established holiday destination. No more enlisting aunts and cousins to help out. So nobody recognized Hitesh as he signed the register and climbed to his room.

A couple more houses were visible further down the road, then a line of white funeral flags where the road disappeared into the forest. Across the road, dense jungle crept right up to the shoulder. It seemed to be dark under the trees even at this time of the day, visibility almost nothing. It hadn’t creeped him out the last time that the jungle was so close to the house...

It was only after he’d dumped his duffel bag onto the bed and kicked off his shoes that Pema came in to welcome her new guest. Welcome, sir! I’m Pema, your hostess, and I hope you had a good drive up—

Her hands went up to her face in horror. Hitesh!

Hitesh gave her a sad smile. Hello, Pema.

For a moment neither said anything. Pema finally chose a neutral topic. Your hair has gone white, Hitesh.

He ran a hand through his thinning hair. I just stopped dyeing it. There seemed no point to it, after…

But Madhu did not come with you?

Divorced. Only a few months after… you know.

Pema was uneasy at this unexpected arrival. Why had he come back? But there was no way for her to come out and say it. As she watched him, she noticed more differences from his last visit. His eyes, bloodshot, seemed permeated with a deep sadness. Downward-pointing creases outlined his mouth. He’d gained weight, and he seemed ten years older. How different from the last time, when a happy family of three had occupied this very room: Hitesh, ever smiling, Madhu, pretty yet shy, and…

She turned away. Her vision blurred with tears. It took all her self-control to walk to