Speaking Tree

He was waiting under the Banyan tree. Few butts of spent cigarettes were strewn around, some of them still glowing orange. It was his habit to throw away half smoked cigarettes without stubbing them off. Suddenly he violently coughed and took sometime to control his breathing. He lit another fresh stick of death and blew a big plume into the night sky. The stars momentarily blurred away.

The moon less night might have been considered beautiful by any romancing couple. He was waiting for the courier to deliver the package. It was late.

His thoughts ran to his love. This job would give him enough bucks to buy her that ring. He had decided to make this his last contract and then turn a new leaf. The Banyan threw a leaf on his face as if it had read his thoughts. The locals considered The Banyan tree the source of Truth. May be this was its way of communication. There were many stories of sightings of a Spirit like being on the Tree. The Banyan stood at the entrance of the town. Its 'holiness' esured that no one resided any where close to it. It was deserted at nights.

He looked at his watch again to check the time. The hand was well past the decided rendezvous time.

He flicked away the half smoked cigarette. The Banyan whirled and rustled as a cold breeze passed through it. It sounded as if it was saying something. May be it was speaking the Truth.

This job would ensure his future. With enough money in his hand he would move to a new place with his love and start a new life. He had met her in the seedy bar. He had gone there on work. The job had gone wrong horribly. He had been scanning the mezannine for his target when his eyes fell on her. She was standing there staring back at him with the most beautiful eyes he had ever seen. Unfortunately the target was sitting at her table and made the first move and shot off few bullets at him. Her instinct was to pick the nearest table knife and jab it into the attackers neck. He finished the rest with a clean shot. Neither spoke a word. They walked out hand in hand and sped away on his motorbike.

Since then they had been together. At times, she assisted him on his job by bringing the needed distractions. With his guidance she had become so good at it that she could perform contracts on her own. He revealed his secret of successful job. He taught her to move fast and first. He taught her not to blink till after she had squeezed the trigger. Her skills made her teacher very proud She had not yet taken any contract though. He had encouraged her and as a gesture gifted his favourite Colt .31 to her. The hilt had notches on it filed by hand. It showed the count.

He had never failed on his contract. But tonight he had plans to fail his client and succeed for himself. He planned to take the contents of the package for himself and retire with his love. As he lit another one to gratify his nicotine craving he heard the rustle and the twigs breaking behind him. He was fast. Faster than the stand offs in the wild west movies. He spun around in one smooth swift motion simultaneously letting the lighter fall to the ground and pulled out his new shiny un-nothched Colt .31. Two rounds were heard almost simultaneoulsy. Two bodies fell to the earth. The lighter lit the dry grass. The yellow light shone in his attackers eyes. They were the most beautiful eyes he had ever seen. The eyes stared back at him emoting the realisation of their folly. Two Colts slipped out of the hands as they tried to reach each other and fell to the ground as the breath left them. The wind ripped through the heart shaped leaves of the Banyan and one could hear it cry, for Death is the ultimate truth.