Four Doors and Other Stories

by A. G. Billig

  “Noooo, noooooo, we wouldn’t!” a choir of tiny voices answered back.

  “Gaya can move freely both in her summer and winter house. Let me tell you something else, but first you must promise that you can keep a secret. Do you promise?”

  “Yes, yes, we can. Do tell us, do tell us!”

  “That’s not good enough. Let me hear you: we promise to keep the secret!”

  The teacher was watching them in delight. This man had a gift she had rarely seen. Even she had to work hard in order to polish her skills of dealing with the little ones. Actually, she was still improving them.

  “We promise to keep the secret, we promise to keep the secret, we promise to keep the secret!” they uttered in one voice, same as they did every morning, when they were standing up to greet the teacher.

  “Very good, I knew I could trust you! Every now and then, during the night, we set Gaya free and let her wander the zoo’s alleys.”

  “Awesome!” exclaimed little Mickey. How he would have enjoyed walking with her, eventually up on top of her head, just as he had seen in a movie.

  “I’m glad we met, children! I hope I’ll see you again. Go see the other animals. They could use some friends as well,” said the caretaker, pulling his hat down his forehead. “I need to carry on with my work.”

  The teacher approached him, holding out her hand,

  “You’re doing a great job here. It seems that you’re good not just with beasts, but with children as well.”

  “Thanks, madam,” he answered touching the brim of his hat with two fingers, as a salute, while taking her palm into a big and rugged hand. “It’s just nature.”

  That evening, Mickey was agitated. He barely touched his food and, right after dinner, he rushed into his room, saying he had homework, loads of it, to do. He even put the Do Not Disturb plate on his door. He was determined to go back to the zoo that very night. Somehow, he knew Gaya would be set free to take a stroll through the park. As his destination was pretty far and the bus service wasn’t available at night, he had to take a cab and needed cash. Walking with Gaya in liberty was worth a thousand times more than the bicycle with the green tires he wanted for his birthday and was saving money for. He opened the lid of the moneybox, a miniature of the red phone booths in his hometown, and threw its contents on his desk. It was made up of a few crumpled notes and many coins. Some of them rolled under his bed. Here was the money that his grandparents had given him at Christmas, for his birthday, and his fee for helping his father clean up the garage. After counting, he shook his head, satisfied. He had enough money, he thought, not only to get there but to also come back. Unless Gaya suddenly decided to go back to India and wanted him to accompany her. The only thing left to do was to choose what to wear. He needed clothes that would make him look like a grown-up person, so that he could make the cabdriver take him to the zoo, and that were strong enough for a long trip. He ran over the clothes in his closet but nothing seemed appropriate.

  He pouted for a few seconds and then suddenly, his face lit up. He rushed under his bed and got a big box out. It was the box where he kept his cowboy outfit. The vest, the checkered shirt, the leather pants, the boots, even a hat. Swell! The large brim, as large as the caretaker’s from the zoo, would hide both his face and age. He would present himself to the cabdriver as an American cowboy visiting his European relatives. The only issue left was getting inside the zoo that closed at seven p.m.

  “It would be so nice if Gaya waited for me at the gate. She would put her trunk around me, raise me up in the air and take me inside.” Mickey was dreaming with his eyes open. “Except that Gaya has no clue I am coming so she can’t meet me. It’s ok, I shall clear the fence. I might bring the washing line from the garage. A cowboy is no cowboy without his lasso.”

  It was barely nine o’clock. The TV set was making noises in the living room. Had these parents of his no intention of going to sleep? He was running out of patience. His schoolbag lay on the floor untouched. He decided to try on his cowboy outfit. It had been a while since he had last put it on. What if he had outgrown it? Luckily, it still fit. Maybe the sleeves were a bit short. The TV set silenced, implying that his parents were getting ready for bed. Every night, they would come into his room and kiss him goodnight. All dressed up as he was, he hid under the blanket which he pulled up to his chin, pretending he was half-asleep.

  He had no idea how long he stayed like that. When he opened his eyes, it was dark in his room and silence ruled all over the house. A soft noise, knock, knock, was coming from his window. What could it be? The trees grew on the other side of the lawn. And he had a visit to make. He hit the ceiling and went to the window to find out what was making that sound.

  There she stood, almost as big as the house. Gaya was knocking at his window with the sole finger of her trunk.

  “Come on, hurry up!” she said. “They’re expecting us!”

  “I’m coming, let me just grab my hat!” answered Mickey who was suddenly able to perfectly see distant objects and did not need his eyeglasses anymore. “Get off the lawn. My father will kill me”

  The elephant backed away, right in the middle of the road.

  “I’m ready,” he said, opening the window.

  Gaya stretched out her trunk, putting it delicately around his waist. Finally, she placed him on top of her head, just as he had wished.

  “You can hold onto my crown,” she said. The elephant was wearing something on her head comparable to a tower-shaped jewel, adorned with colourful butterflies and precious stones. She had massive golden bangles at her feet, with gold tassels jingling at each step. Her eyelashes were dark brown and longer than he remembered.

  “I am glad to see you again, by the way. I think you are a great little fellow,” Gaya told him, as she moved at an unusual speed for an elephant.

  “I don’t know, not everybody agrees with you,” he answered a little sulky and still sleepy.

  “If you are implying those two girls, your class-mates, the skinny one and the chubby one, there is one thing I know: they suck. Su-ck! They need a cold-water shower to come to their senses. But I did not want to scare you. The truth is that it is not their fault. They hold nothing against you. They just do not feel loved, that’s all. Therefore, they withdraw into themselves and treat other people badly. Either they look people up or they make fun of them.”

  Poor things, Mickey thought. Not to feel loved must be terrible. Not to be kissed goodnight. Not to see the Easter Bunny. Not to be able to speak to animals.

  “I’m glad to see you too, Gaya,” he said almost kissing her wrinkled head with an enthusiasm he tried to hide because his father had taught him that a man had to control himself. And, hell, he was a man. He had left home all by himself.

  “I knew you could speak,” he whispered.

  Gaya smiled. “You can whisper as softly as you like, I can still hear you. I can hear even your thoughts!”

  The streets they were passing looked bizarre and strange. Moreover, they were very different from those he knew so well. The two-story houses, aligned impeccably alongside concrete sidewalks, where tiny trees were growing at a specific distance between each other, had been replaced by hovels painted in bright colors. As dawn approached, he could see that some of them had a dirty cloth at the entrance instead of a door. Fistfuls of withered grass were growing on the curb.

  “Where are we?” he asked curiously.

  “We are in India. We’re going to the circus. I am the star of the show and you are my special guest!”

  Mickey stood up and started swinging his arms. Before Gaya was able to make a sound, he slipped and almost fell. Most obligingly, the elephant waved his left leg so that the little fellow may grab it.

  “Do not try standing on a walking elephant without previous training!” joked Gaya.

  “I didn’t mean to do this! I was just happy about being in India and about being properly dressed. Look, I have a hat! Is the sun strong in India?”

  “Y
es, it is quiet strong!”

  “How do you get by without a hat? Don’t you get a sunburn?”

  “Never! My skin is thick, so thick that I feel nothing. When I’m hot, I cool down. Just like this!” she answered sucking up a finger of water from a puddle and sprinkling it on him. Mickey giggled, delighted.

  “Tell me, Gaya, don’t you ever get bored being locked up in that enclosure at the zoo?”

  “I don’t have much time to get bored.”

  “How come?”

  “Firstly, I get plenty of guests every day. And not just children, like you. But other creatures as well like animals or insects. Then there are birds that are flying in from remote places to recount to me what is going on in the vast world. Pigeons sent to get advice on a circus number. Ants who know the latest news from inside the earth. Marvelous things happen around me all the time. A blade of grass is growing. Dandelion seeds learn to fly. A cloud changes shape. A star rises. How could I ever get bored?”

  “Then why do people get bored? Maybe it is better to be elephant than a person. Look, sometimes on Sundays, when we are all at home, I see Mummy walking back and forth in the dining room. My father watches TV, pretending he doesn’t see her. Until she places herself right in front of him, hiding the telly, and yells: ‘I’m bored!’”

  “I’ll try to clear this up for you. Did you ever go to the circus?”

  “Sure, I did! But never to an Indian one.”

  “Did you notice how the magician was hypnotizing the rabbit until it stood totally still?”

  Mickey nodded his head in affirmation.

  “It goes the same way with people. Somehow, they act like this rabbit. They never live in the present. All they do is think about what happened and what is going to happen. Sometimes, these thoughts seem to get tired. This is when, having forgotten how to listen or to observe, they start feeling bad. Like being hungry. They say they get bored. And rely on a familiar activity to push away the nasty feeling.”

  Mickey was confused. Why were grown-ups thinking so highly of themselves when it was obvious that they were less intelligent than an elephant?

  The air was lighting up and vibrating with merry music sounds. They were approaching a huge tent, with purple and red walls. A same-coloured flag, with two golden strips, was waving on the highest point of the tapering top. The elephant and the boy stopped near the artist entrance. Gaya made that trumpet sound again. A chimp wearing a white vest with big, silver buttons and red, baggy, silk pants appeared at once. Massive bangles hanged at his wrists. The turban on his head, artfully made, bore a huge amethyst.

  “Raj will take you to your seat,” said Gaya lowering him on the ground. “Stay calm, be patient and you will see me as no one in your country has ever seen me before.”

  Gaya became impressive, majestic, superb and very different from the grey and burly animal at the zoo. All dressed up, prepared for the show, she seemed to be more than an artist. She was a goddess of creativity, luck and abundance.

  The chimp took Mickey’s hand and pulled him inside the tent. The backstage was animated with humans and beasts who, in perfect harmony, prepared for the show. The little boy sat in the front row. His heart was pounding heavily. He did not know where to look first. To the swarthy people around him. Or to the merry orchestra that was making the wonderful music, the clowns who were playing tricks in the middle of the arena. Or to the dazzling, colored lights, shining from the ceiling.

  It was before he could come to his senses, that clowns were leaving the arena and drums announced an important moment. A white cloth was being stretched from one end of the arena to the other, dividing it in two, while the master of ceremonies was proudly announcing:

  “And now, ladies and gentlemen, our number-one star, Gayaaa!”

  A roar of applause and cheers made the tent tremble. Mickey looked to his right and felt full of pride as if everyone knew he was the star’s special guest.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, you all know Gaya is a perfect artist, who takes great care of her appearance. Please, give her some time to prepare herself for you. Ladies and gentlemen, I give you Gaya!”

  The elephant entered the stage while the audience acclaimed and made her trumpet noise that seemed to drive them crazier. She stopped behind the white cloth. All you could see were the top of her head, her eyes, and her spine. She must have put her front legs on something because she rose above the curtain, in a diva-like pose, her head leaned backwards, her trunk rolled up in the air and her mouth open in a smile.

  “Gaya, Gaya, Gaya,” shouted the crowd.

  The elephant hid behind the curtain. She slowly took off the crown on her head and put it aside, on the board. A few seconds later, her golden bracelets fell next to it. Afterwards, the audience heard a water splash. Meanwhile, the orchestra was playing a happy song. Gaya was completely out of sight when, out of nowhere, a gazelle appeared, chased by a huge Indian disguised as a lion. They both tangled in the white cloth and tossed until it detached.

  The audience cheered. They could now see all of beautiful Gaya. She was sitting on her back legs, in a big water basin, pretending she had no idea that all eyes were on her. She was holding a brush in her trunk and washed her back, her ears, and her feet. Now and then, she would put the brush aside and pour on it some odor-free liquid from a porcelain bottle. She would grab it again, continuing the embellishment process. After a few similar gestures, thoroughly made, she would put her trunk into a smaller basin, get some water, and let it flow on her body.

  One thing was certain: Gaya was the brightest elephant on Earth! Not only did she knew how to take a bath but she knew how to use a towel as well. A big, white one. Children and adults were equally mesmerized. Gaya seemed to notice finally, the crowd around her. Her eyes had a cocky glow. She moved to the center of the arena, waving her ears as if she was saying:

  “Ok, you caught me again in the act! But you loved it, I know that!”

  Starting the tour of honor, her trumpet-like voice sang again while a dozen men were taking out the water basins. Children approached the board, their hands full of candies. Gaya stopped in front of a little girl, with curly hair. She gently caressed her forehead with her sole finger. The kid handed her a big, red lollypop. Gaya gently grasped it with her trunk and put it in her mouth. For a few seconds, she moved her lips and kept her eyes closed as if she was enjoying it to the fullest. Afterwards, she resumed her triumphant march and disappeared in the artist entrance tunnel.

  From this moment on, Mickey’s memories got unclear. A bunch of sounds, colors, and smells. He left the tent with the other Indian children. It got cold and dark. He almost broke into tears when a familiar trunk grabbed him, putting him somewhere high up and chasing his worries away.

  “Don’t worry, we’re going back home. I’m so proud of you. You are the bravest little boy in the whole world. Don’t you ever forget it! You’re the bravest little boy in the world!”

  The gentle touch in his hair made him open his eyes:

  “Gaya?” he murmured.

  “Mum, yes, it’s me, Mum,” the voice answered, holding him. “My brave little boy who fell asleep dressed up as a cowboy.”

  Mickey is rubbing his eyes, his fists clenched, having a hard time believing he is back in his bed. Somehow, his mother’s smile reminds him of Gaya’s. As she takes him into her arms, tears gather in his eyes. Few tears. Because he is the bravest little boy on Earth.

  “Mum, can I ask you something?”

  “Of course, honey! Anything!”

  “Can we go to the zoo on Saturday to see Gaya?”

  GREEN EYES

  The hard soles of his shoes were leaving marks in the cobblestone, melted down by the heat. The narrow asphalt strip went by the steep barren lakeside for a while, when suddenly it turned right and followed the highway, leaving behind a whitish dusty path. It was this path he chose daily as a short cut to his home. His shirt was glued to the skin of his chest and back because he hated wearing an under-vest. The
man’s strides were heavy and rhythmic. He looked straight ahead, with a frowned set gaze. It might have been the daylight, as heavy as it was, making his wedding ring glow. He was tired. Tired from all the dust, tired from the scorching heat, tired with this forsaken place where he has been living for the past two years. He felt trapped.

  He had settled down here right after being betrothed to Mary. He had met her at the movies. They were total strangers and yet, they had seats next to one another. The film was utter crap and he did not refrain from commenting and laughing out loud. She had told him to behave himself, otherwise she would have the usher throw him out. The man was puzzled. He was used to women performing a somersault to get into his good books. But not this one. Mary was all determination and self-confidence. A different female species he had to explore. At the end of the movie, he had made a short but irresistible apology that had put a smile on her face. “Piece of cake,” he had said to himself, thinking that the war was won before any battle had taken place. He had pursued her to the bus station, extracting a phone number and the promise of a date.

  It had not been love at first sight but still, it was love. He had fallen for her lively spirit, her wits, her ambition, and her openness. She fancied him for his good looks, his wonderful body, his passion. After a while, they were inseparable. They enjoyed climbing the mountains, taking long strolls in the park, eating ice cream, dancing and making love for hours and hours. To cut a long story short, they were happy.

  So happy that, once the autumn came, they got married. A small wedding—just family and close friends, with no white, princess garment and no tuxedo. Actually, Mary had a stout figure and thought a mid-length, straight dress made of cream brocade would suit her best. As for him, he wanted to make her smile like the first time they had met. Thus, he adorned his best office suit with a pair of new Converse sneakers. Right after the ceremony was over, the newlyweds packed their bags and moved to Mary’s hometown. He had just graduated from college and got a job as an engineer at the nearby nuclear power station. The man had grown up in a similar small town and, during his first year of marriage, he did not miss the life of the big city. Moreover, he loved his job and he loved getting back home every evening to his Mary, who was always greeting him with tender caresses and exquisite food. She had landed a job as a nurse in a state-run dispensary and seemed to have forgotten her old ambitions.