That Old Friend

A few months ago, I came across an old friend of mine, who had left three years before and had just come back to town for a short visit. His skin was sun-burnt and his hair had turned a greyer lot. He did not seem the same guy as from three years before. I have to admit it was he who first recognized me when I simply, just as an arrogant dog, was minding my own business.

“How are you friend?”, he asked.

“Oh, you are back then? How come you…Oh, come on, let’s talk.”, I answered back.

“Talk we can do later.”, he said, “But tell me how you are faring here.”

“I’m doing well!”, I said and stopped for a while before opening my mouth again, “Well, why are you so concerned now? Did you bother to ask when you were away?”

“If I had your address.”, he quipped back.

Well, then we parted promising to meet again the same night at the restaurant round the corner of the same street.

That night, I prepared for my best outing and before locking the door, did not forget to pick a pen which I had kept aside to present him three years ago before he left, and had failed to do so. The pen had developed rust over it, for I had left it discarded and had never used it until I was reminded of it that night. But even then, it was a gift. And I did not feel ashamed to gift the old friend a pen because we had always shared our things as school-going children and had always happily swapped old goods.

I was thankful to God that he had not forgotten me but I was still not aware of what that night was going to do to me.

I reached the restaurant well on time and found that he had still not arrived. Choosing a good table, I sat and made myself comfortable. That was when I heard my friend calling out to me.

I greeted him, and we sat down together. We chose from the menu and having ordered, I began the conversation.

“Where are you actually now?”

“I would not be able to answer that – it’s a secret base that I am working in.”

“Now, what’s that?”

“I said I can’t – I am needed not to reveal it.”

“You mean you work for a secret company and do secret business?”

“Yes, and let me tell you that I am on a secret mission here too.”

I leaned back startled, “What, you are a secret agent, work for a secret company, and are a on a secret mission?” I exclaimed, “That does not make sense to me!”

“Shut up and sit quiet,” he muttered, “You’re going to dox me!”

I sat upright. For the rest of the meal, we did not talk much.

At the end of it, I said, “Well, that’s why you never contacted me. You did not even inform me when you were leaving and before that, did not even tell me you were leaving town.”

“Well, yes.”, he answered sharply. And just as were getting up, I beckoned him to remain in his seat. I produced the pen from my pocket, and with a smile presented it to him.

“And this to celebrate our friendship which has till now lasted twelve years.”, I said, and handed it to him.

He looked contemptuously at it, took it in his hand and throwing it back to me, said, “Is this what you’re gifting me? I could have a thousand better pens than this with the money I am earning as a secret agent.”

He got up quickly, went up to the counter, forked out some notes and without waiting for any change, walked away.

I watched him leave, with wet eyes. Was this the same guy who had always wanted to be with me, who had always wanted to share his things with me, was always ready to part with any good old thing for another, had always shared his feelings, I wondered. I wondered was he really that friend who had grown up with me and now had thrown my present back at me.

“Money does wonders.”, I said, and walked up to the counter only to learn that the former gentleman had already paid the check. I went back to my home, and a had a good night’s sleep.

I have not seen him since, and I hope to never see him again because that would remind me of what a friend could do to another. But even if I wanted to see him, it is doubtful I would get the chance to do so because only today morning I saw his name in the news, accused of being a spy for the neighbour country.

© 2000 Asiman Panda