WHEN FATE BRINGS YOU HOME

CHAPTER 20

Two big white boards are set on stage facing the audience. Me and Laura are ready with our markers in hand to start drawing when the timer starts. My heart's beating fast, but this time with confidence. We have done well in the last three words given to us and we'll do the same for this one as well. I've got to be fast so that I can give him enough time to think his answer through. But there's no way anyone would mistake this word, or more like, this sentence. 

I started drawing the language of the deaf, the language of the mute, the universal language that no one can ever not know. The sign language. I quickly sketch a hand and slowly the features of the fingers, with the middle and the ring fingers folded down and the rest raised. It's figure-able. Understandable. For everyone. Anyone. Three simple words and we will win. Just like that.

But he remained silent. 

He looks almost blank, guards up and nervous. He's nervous. Is it because he can't comprehend it? I looked over at the neighboring board. Laura is busy drawing people so it should take some time. While I'm using brains here, why is it so hard for him to contemplate? Does he not know the sign language? Shit, I'll try again. I start with another set of drawing for the same word hoping he would get it this time. If I draw it more easier for him to crack this time, we can still win. Laura is busy completing the hair of the man. Her drawing is a mess by the way. Not criticizing.

I start drawing an eye. I draw the heart sign right next to it, followed by a hand pointing out of the board. All those art classes I bunked in junior school, I'm regretting it now. I look back and wait for him to come up with the answer. I'm not in a hurry, we still have time until Czes collects his words and thought. I look at him hopefully, for the words to come out of his mouth. Say it and we win. Fast. Each second is important.

But something tells me that it is off. A renowned professor and scientist not being able to break the puzzle, not even a puzzle, the simple pictures, is not acceptable. What's he waiting for? I know he knows the answer. I know  that he understood it the very first time I drew. He knows what the sentence is. But why is his expression empty? Why isn't he speaking? Those are merely just words, words that'll help me with my otherwise broken bank account situation. It should come out as naturally as he said all the other words, without meaning it. The task is too simple.

Say it, Shaurya. Please.

He stood there dubiously looking at me in return, like I am expecting too much from him. He shook his head once. What? He's not saying it? The confident scent in my blood is vanishing as it gets replaced with nervousness, anger and confusion. What's keeping him from saying it? He doesn't have to mean it. It's just a game. That's all it is. If it's to win, why can't he-

"I love you."

Czes's voice echoed throughout the hall as he screamed it out loud and clear, right when he figured it out from the board. See, that's what I wanted. That's what I was waiting for. Trying twice to win and still managing to lose is unfortunate. Three hundred dollars is it? I haven't even started to earn properly.

"The winners of the event today is Laura Miller and Czeslaw Milosz. Great playing, guys. Give a round of applause for the couple of the day. And congratulations, Shaurya Harshenn and Tara Menon for making it till here."

Everyone applauded. The chant of the clapping only made me more sick. I forced a smile at everyone before stepping down the stage without letting anyone know my frustration. Faking the smile is becoming more natural for me as I spend more days here. I stomped my way out when he followed me to the same hallway we were strategizing before. 

"Tara."

He stopped me with his hand on my arm like it somehow belonged to him. I pulled it back with anger.