Chapter 2: Under Her Hood

She had loved. The more appropriate term would be ‘wanted’. She had wanted men. So
many men. From complete jerks to the most charming creatures but she could never want
any of them for long. She got bored. Not with the man but with merely the idea that her life
will become unchangeable with this man. She did not care about pain. Not that she was
emotionally numb. She was a generous bitch.
She could walk past a woman and make her feel absolutely bad about herself. Juliann
wasn’t immodest and could not be an object of jealousy, according to our conventional
terms. She was unsettled. Who knew how much of her had been broken? How much of her
left to be healed? I believe what challenged the integrity of an intelligent and good-looking
woman in her presence was that you could see through Juliann. She had nothing to hide.
She was in herself a riddle. A riddle which had been unsuccessfully deciphered many times
before. Not that she had complex ideas. Even watching her required a mental effort.
Nothing disturbed her peace, when she smiled. She smiled because it was hard for her to
get angry now. She had lost her capacity to get angry gradually over the years. She was
nineteen, but she looked old. She belonged to the time of kings and palaces. She couldn’t
have been a princess. She was too ungroomed and simple for that. She would have been a
peasant. An emancipated strong woman. She walks, with a shovel. Tired and excited.
Physically excited and mentally exhausted. Agonized at the fact that she had not crossed
her target today. She had harvested wheat. She thought, 'Is it enough?' she was angry,
unlike herself. She was good at manual labor and it agonized her that she had not pushed
beyond her mastery. She had finished the target, but by the end, she wanted more. Much
more. But her head failed her. She needed a break.
"She wants more. Always." Holler said as he followed her into the platform.
He saw in her an undead princess, a protective mother, a harsh daughter and a purple
writer. She travels through your mind, sneaks into closed windows, looks for pits that lead
no where. She could fall into space and still keep walking. Absence was required to want
Juliann. She did not form an impressive image at the first meeting. Especially for a man
like Holler who reflected on every human being he acquainted himself with. Juliann
reached out to Holler. Not verbally or through her actions. She spoke with her eyes. Holler
was fascinated by her expressions. They talked. Raving mad talk. She jumped into clouds
wearing a shirt of wetness. She would love to fall on her face and dirty her dress. Still, she
would look beautiful. A childish maturity pervaded her.
Across the street, there stood a man. Made of honor. An old man, in his sixties. He did not
grow a beard. It is amusing how excessive hair growth on the face is often utilized for
measuring the wisdom of a person. Holler was walking behind her. She stopped, turned,
smiled. Smiled and asked, "Holler, are you going to keep following me?"
"Yes." Holler said. He could not believe he had answered. He always got nervous in front of
women. Any woman. But Juliann. God, Juliann made him want to talk. Those eyes
pleaded him to speak. She stepped out of the station and stared at a dog. She paced fast
towards the dog and started petting him.
"Do you know him?" Holler asked. The 'hygienic' man he considered himself to be and the
'tidiness' Juliann seemed to maintain did not match her behavior with a stray dog.
"I think i do. Don’t you know him? He’s Bricks." Juliann said and started talking to 'Bricks'.
"Bricks, hmm? How long have you known him?" Holler asked.
"Like for a few minutes." Juliann said.
Could he like her? Could he?
The old man walked towards them and said, "Oh Julia, you look so beautiful."
Juliann looked up smiling and hugged the man tight. Holler stood looking. He guessed it
was her father. Or maybe an old man she talks a walk with, from the old age home. He let
his eyes wander their closeness.
"Won’t you introduce me to the young man, Julia?" he asked.
"Oh sure." Juliann replied and continued, pointing to Holler kindly, "this is Holler. We met in
the train and he likes me."
"This is Ruswan. The man I love." Juliann said.
Holler gazed, wide-eyed at her. Ruswan intervened and added, "Come Holler. Let us go for
a cup of coffee and we will talk about why i am in love with this woman."
Holler tried, so hard, to detect one pinch of sarcasm in his statement but there existed
none. Juliann said, aloud, "Ruswan, I want hazelnut mocha. I want it."
Ruswan smiled and asked Holler, "You really like her?"
Holler attempted to bring a smile to his zipped lips and perplexed face. He did not
answer.
Ruswan said, "My wife died eight months ago. She was a violinist and Juliann was her
student. Juliann was an orphan. My son wanted me to go to an old age home but would
Juliann let that happen? She put up a fight. Her set of totally flawed logical arguments won
her me. She has taken care of me since then. I am an old man Holler. And this girl here.
She is precious. Made of integrity and will. Of course, my son Robert still wants me to go
to an old age home since he finds our 'association' unholy. But does holy matter? Does
religion care? I love Juliann and she loves me. I am her father. There is no way she is
letting me take care of myself." and he smiled.
Holler grinned and told himself, "She’s rich, so rich."

Chapter 1: Juliann's Ringman

He always liked women with crazy hair. Contemptuous Unobtainable women made him
want to be a man. Juliann was undeniably the most interesting woman he had ever met.
More interesting than his girlfriend Sherry.
After an hour of gazing at her, the first sentence she had uttered had made him burn with
joyful agony. “You can’t want me. You won’t get as near as touching me.”
Juliann was a statue. A Goddess. One whose salvation was indignation and who fed on
healthy disrespect. At that point, there was no way he could recollect all his ‘unimaginably
beautiful’ moments with Sherry. Juliann could overpower beauty and money. And that’s
what made it harder for Holler to not want her. She was not the sexiest woman. Nor was
she rich. She was simply beautiful. Beautiful inside. Bodily and spiritually. Not the spirit we
preach. For Holler, spirit was not soul. Not an invisible little ghost screaming notes of
morality inside his head. Spirit was her power. Her power to bind him as her helpless slave,
by the rope of her charms.
He could make love to her. Brutally. Hear her scream in pain and not feel a pinch of pity
for her. Not because he wasn’t a moral person. Holler was a moral man. He could find
beauty in so-called ‘ugliest’ of the faces. Not out of mercy, out of the irresistible need to be
‘good’. To be the man his father never could be.
“You are so buying me a ring one day and I wonder how much pleasure I would derive in
saying ‘no’.” Juliann said, smiling maliciously.
It was surprising how she could so confidently assert something like this on the first
meeting. Holler looked at her. Felt her breath on his cheeks and remembered what his
mother had told him after meeting Sherry, “Oh, she is so wonderful! I love her Holler. Don’t
leave her. Ever.”
But how could he not aspire to kiss this woman who made it totally impossible for him to
walk away? The station he should have got down at was far gone. The train was six
stations ahead.
He wanted her. Desired to hold her close to him and to make her fall on her knees,
begging him to own her.
As she nibbled on the chocolate, he asked her, “Why don’t you have a man? You seem
nice.”
“Seem nice? It’s amazing how men take the liberty to be so loving on the first go and can
indefinitely want her as long as it is a chase. Once the struggle is over and she wants him
back, they have to treat her like crap.”
“Does that answer my question Juliann?”
“Yes. Men don’t deserve beautiful women. I am content being without a man pricking my
ass all the time.”
“How happy do you get by making every man around you feel like trash?”
Juliann smiled and stared at him. She didn’t have to say anything.
Holler knew her. He was her Ringman.
Holler believed every woman had a Ringman. A man who fell prey to her body and her
spirit. Only one man who would want to be ruled by her.
“Ribbons.” Juliann said, suddenly.
They had remained silent for over an hour now. The next station was Bennington. The one
where Juliann was supposed to get down.
“Ribbons. What about them?” Holler asked.
“Don’t you like them Holler?”
Juliann was shameless. Utterly unintelligible to a human being who did not understand the
power of ‘pride’.
“The next station is Bennington. The train terminates here. The doors will open on the right
side. Mind the gap.”
Holler turned, looked and asked her, “Are you going to get down?”
He so tried to hide that tint of desperation, though his pleading eyes totally gave him
away.
“I don’t wait Holler. I don’t.” Juliann said and stood up.
Holler looked up at her and asked, “How can you want me to love you?”
“I don’t.”, Juliann replied and added, “You can’t love me.”, emphasizing on the word ‘can’t’.
“I want you.” Holler said under his breath. Loud enough for her to hear.
Juliann glanced at him angrily and asked, “do you?” and walked away.
Her name was Juliann. There was more of what she did not like than of what she certainly
did. She wasn’t a pessimist. She was confused. Confidently confused.
I lied. Told her I want her. I lied. Because there was no other way I could have her. Juliann
did not want to be loved. Humans were not capable of it according to her. She did make
exceptions.