Keeper

Zoom in on a valley blanketed by thick fog, one could see small pockets of fading light illuminating a small town. Surrounded by thick brush the attention is drawn to a small cottage at the outskirts. Victor Chacha's (VC) K-2 cigarette burnt amber bright. One of the few relaxing moments he kept to himself. The combination of a crisp cold Nathyagali night, a warm cup of sweet doodh-pattee tea and the subtle heat from his cigarette, was all that he craved all day. It was something he looked forward to in most cases unless the cottage had guests. Who invited them, who approved the booking or even who actually paid his salary was never clear to VC.

While he squatted at the front porch overseeing the garden and the dark sky over the short boundary walls, He sipped on the tea from a handle-less china cup, and inhaled generously, all the while waiting for the night to envelop. He was almost half way through his tea, when the doors started rattling behind him. Tonight was the night the guests took their involuntary leave. Just like many before them. It was the usual process. It had been like this for years and VC only knew that whatever this was, he wanted no part of it. The lights inside flashed on and off, until they didn't.

By the time his cigarette and tea were done, the noise along with the disturbance had halted. VC sighed and flicked off the cigarette butt. After so many years of this he had mastered the aim and every time he got it straight into near-by plant pot. This needed emptying every 2 weeks or so. VC sighed and got up to check inside. He reset his scarf and warm cap. The winters were merciless.

A large sigh followed a gentle nudge at the door. As unexpected, it was neither locked or stuck. The darkness in the main sitting room was ominous. VC entered and attempted to turn on the light. For some reason the power was cut and therefore he had to make his way in the darkness. The clear white drapes directed the light from outdoors and illuminated the room some. VC shuffled the drapes to get more light in and doing so, noticed thunder and lightning as it approached the town. The silences in the cottage was deafening. The guests had vacated as is usually the case. The lightening struck in the background, while VC scampered to cover the furniture again with white sheets. He had to do this for each room as he progressed.

First up was the adults' room. It was pitch black. So he opened the drapes to get some light in. Lightening struck and the room illuminated. Dark silhouettes standing in the corners of the room, quietly and peacefully. Further to confirm his suspicion, their numbers had grown. The last guests had joined the party. As had been the case ever since he had started work here, this was the usual process. As he moved around the bed the shining eyes followed him. Not a word was spoken. Not a brow was lifted. Initially when he started, the first few times were scary but not anymore. After tidying up the adult room he quickly moved onto children's. He gently closed the door behind him, while the eyes followed his every step.

He strode up the wooden staircase and made his way to the kids' room. As expected it was also missing any form of light. So VC opened the drapes. This action was immediately followed by loud thunder and three lightening strikes that flashed the room. The snapshot was of smaller sized silhouettes, standing in the corners of the room, silent and dead looks, but all of them constantly tracking VC. These were the kids of the families that this cottage had consumed over the years. VC made sure he did not stare. That he did not acknowledge the presence of these lost souls. As soon as he was done tidying up, he cleaned the kitchen and toilets before making his way out. Every time not knowing whether the cottage will let him go, whether the doors will give way. Just like the many other lucky times, he was let out.

The Sun was rising in the distant horizon. The golden dawn welcomed a new day and VC was tired so he went to his quarters to take rest. A few days passed before the bells rang again. A new family was visiting, and the reserved VC had no option but to cordially invite and serve these new guests. After all the cottage expected this from its keeper and the keeper had no option but to serve. Thus the cycle continued.