The Vaticinator

by Namita Singh

name to be Tanya. It’s slightly disturbing that I can be this ignorant. I sigh and shake the thought away, instead concentrating on finding Neal. It doesn’t take long for me to climb the single floor towards the library. As soon as I am at the doors, I get assaulted by Neal’s aura. His aura drowns the rest of the few weak auras lingering in the library. I sigh with pleasure. All the time I get stunned by the plain aesthetical appeal his aura holds for me. The feeling is something I still can’t express in words. It’s like my personal euphoric stimulant. I walk through the library, directly towards the end from where his aura is emanating. It’s coming from a separate cubicle at the corner, distinguished from the rest of the library by a simple wooden wall. I enter and immediately spot Neal sitting in one of the many chairs present, scattered around a huge table.

  He has his laptop open in front of him with a number of papers stacked beside it. But Neal is not concentrating on the work…or so it seems. He is sitting, almost slacking in his seat, his eyes focused on the screen of his laptop, but not really seeing it. His expressions are stoic. I thinkhe is feeling sleepy. I make my presence noticeable by taking a step inside. He lazily lifts his head to look at the intruder.

  “Hey.” I say.

  The rise of his eyebrows is the only acknowledgement he manages for a moment. Then he adjusts himself on his seat, sitting a little straighter.

  He clears his throat, “Hey.” He says, his voice hoarse. He is definitely sleepy.

  “Uh, I hope I am not disturbing.” I say, slightly smirking because after all he isn’t really working.

  “Yes, you are.” He says, as blunt as ever. But then he smirks too and rubs his eyes profusely, “Shit.” He curses, laughing.

  I smile involuntarily, “I am quite sure that I am not intruding.” I tell him, giving him a droll look, “But you can do with a nap. I’ll catch you later.” I smile, preparing to depart.

  “No, no.” he says, frowning and shutting the lid of his laptop, “A distraction is what I need.” He says, stretching his back. He draws his hand on the table and taps on it, indicating the chair opposite to him. I take the invitation and settle in the chair. “Did you need something?” he asks as I sit.

  “Uh, not really.”

  He smirks, stifling a yawn, “Shame.” He says.

  I eye him inquisitively then stare at him in shock, “You thought I am here to request you to write about me in The Plutocracy?” I deadpan.

  His smirk grows, “Or write about anything of your interest. That’s usually for what people accost me.”

  “I don’t read your paper.”

  “I know.” He replies too quickly. Then he takes a moment and adds, “People don’t just ask me to print things for the pleasure of reading alone.”

  I nod in understanding. The content of his paper is upon what most of the students form their opinions in this school. Of course, they don’t read it for pleasure as much as they read it to stay updated with the ‘good’ and the ‘bad’ of our school. “I don’t like other people reading your paper as well.” I say in reply to that.

  He remains silent, stoically keeping his eyes on the table. Almost absentmindedly, he starts picking at the edges of the papers laid in front of him. He looks up and suddenly grins, “You choose the worst candidate for demeaning my paper in front of.”

  “I am not demeaning it…” I start, making Neal’s eyebrows shoot upwards. I sigh, “Okay, maybe I am.”

  Neal chuckles, “And that’s a surprise. Considering that I have displayed how I antagonize…I really don’t expect complaints. Not anymore.”

  It’s a good thing he himself has brought the subject of his enmity that he projected in his paper against Duato. I can make a conversation flow at least, if not start it in the first place.

  “People learn.” I say, scoffing with a smile. “I heard about-”

  “I don’t expect you to agree with me, you know. You surprise me every time.” He interrupts.

  “-Uh…what?”

  “I know for a fact how cocky and arrogant I sound whenever I talk of Plutocracy. Conceited, even.”

  “Well…you have earned that right in my opinion.” I say awkwardly. The Plutocracy is a hit and Neal knows that. I don’t see what the big deal is if he takes advantage of it or expresses his pride over his own work. I don’t hear him bragging about it. He states as much as is actually true. Yes, he has a deadly way to express his hostility, though Duato is his very first victim. Yes, he holds a certain power over the crowd. Yes, people can’t really demand things out of him. If he is knowledgeable of these things and makes use of it, I really wouldn’t call it being arrogant or cocky or conceited. As a bonus, he is even aware of his supposed ‘cockiness’, knowing too well what he is exactly expressing. He is not blindly egotistical. “It’s like being aware of your own capabilities, than being big-headed.” I tell him.

  Neal nods, “Not everybody agrees with that.” He says with sobriety, “Anyways,” he huffs out his breath, “You were saying something before I interrupted.”

  “Oh? Yeah. I just got to know about Duato fighting with you again.” Actually, what I heard is that Duato and his friends ‘jumped’ Neal indicating that they must have taken Neal by surprise. But I don’t see a single scratch on Neal that may prove that Duato and his friends succeeded in defeating Neal. I am quite sure Neal must have retaliated, the thought making me use the word ‘fight’.

  He frowns, “Eh…he didn’t.”

  I raise my eyebrows, “But…Tany-uh, Ananya told me that he and his friends jumped you on Monday.” I am beginning to doubt what she meant by the phrase ‘jumped him’.

  “Oh.” Realization dawns on his face, “That seems a long time ago.” He chuckles. “It wasn’t exactly a fight as such…” he says slowly, “He was just trying to look threatening I guess. We had just talked…unpleasantly.” Then he suddenly jolts straight up, looking at the opening of the cubicle we are in, “Sorry.” He says. Through the haze of Neal’s aura overpowering my senses, I manage to sense another diluted aura lingering behind me.

  I turn back to see the librarian standing at the entrance giving sober looks to the both of us.

  “It’s a library.” She states…quite uselessly.

  “We’ll keep quiet. I apologize.” Neal says again.

  The librarian nods and walks away.

  Neal releases a long breath and rolls his eyes. “It wasn’t a big deal.” He continues in a much quieter tone. If I were not a therian then I probably wouldn’t have heard him so exceptionally clear. “He has been trying to talk to me about the situation…to sort of make an accord or something.” Neal shrugs. Then he frowns at me, giving me a suspicious stare, “I hope you’re not here to make amends for him.”

  I roll my eyes, “Duato is not exactly simpatico with me at the moment.” I say in an equally quiet tone. Neal leans forward to hear better; his hearing ability not as gifted as mine. He simply nods.

  A silent moment flourishes. The silence is similar to all the other silences that lead to an end of a conversation. So far our discussion has been somewhat similar to our previous conversations. Superficial and to the point. I wonder if he’ll disclose the reason behind his paper, if I suddenly ask him for it. He himself admits that his paper is not exactly enlightening, most of the times at least. He also admits that it provides him with a superior hand. But is that the reason behind his desire to keep his paper going? To have an upper hand? Just so he can have leverage against everyone like presently against Duato for instance? To a certain extent I am confident that Neal is not that shallow.

  I watch as he starts picking his papers, rearranging and stacking them on top of his closed laptop. I know that he is just about to dismiss our ephemeral encounter.

  “Why did you do it?” I blurt out instantly, driven by the sudden panic that our conversation is ending.

  He raises a finger, pointing at me, “Quiet.” He says, grimacing.

  I look back towards where the librarian was standing a few moments ago. I look
back at Neal and nod with a wince.

  “Do what?” he asks in a low voice.

  I suspire and reform my question in a quieter tone, “Why are you…suddenly on a warpath against Duato? I mean…I have never seen you specifically degrading anyone in your paper ever.”

  Neal raises his left eyebrow, smiling amusedly, “I thought you didn’t read my paper.”

  I roll my eyes, “I heard about it.” I correct.

  Neal shakes his head, “I do insult people in The Plutocracy on a regular basis.” He smirks.

  “Printing about someone who unfortunately kissed someone ugly is not nearly as serious as the full lashing you unleashed at Duato in the last two papers.”

  “I’ll again say,” Neal says, his amused smile growing, “I thought you didn’t read my paper.”

  I sigh, “My…best friend is…sort of a fan of The Plutocracy.” I tell him. “I learn of the gossips without any effort.” I stress on the word ‘gossips’.

  He nods, still smiling, “I am assuming it’s that guy,” he motions his hands towards his eyes, probably identifying Aakir by his unusual eyes, “…Aakir, right?” he asks.

  “Yes.”

  He nods, “Well…” he clears his throat, “Let’s say Duato did something that pissed me off.”

  “Pissed you off this much?”

  Neal simply nods, looking serious. But he remains silent, not bothering to elaborate on the subject.

  Well…it’s clear that he doesn’t want to reveal what exactly Duato did