The Silence Speaks. PART 2

Flawlessly they moved on.

After a while, the man broke the silence. “After we get out of this road, tell me the exact location of your place. Ok?”

“Ok” said the girl.

Her beauty pleased him. He had never seen a girl like her before. This girl outshone even those girls whom this man used to consider as ‘prettiest of the pretty’. She had something different. That man could not resist asking her name and finally he asked, “Umm… so… so what’s your name?”

She looked at him. “Estella… Estella Stratford”. Lovely name she had.

“Beautiful name, miss. I am… I am Francis Macini. People call me Frankie.” He said.

“Oh” she replied. Her reply seemed very straight, straight… as if she was not interested. Obviously. Why would a girl be interested in a stranger? Just because he was dropping her home?  No.

“So, you don’t speak much. Right, Estella?” Frankie asked.

She did not answer.

“Estella?” he again asked.

“Yes”. She was looking outside.

Frankie felt a little embarrassed. He was the only one who was speaking. Estella didn’t even give a damn!  It’s ok if she was beautiful but ‘continuous conversation’ did not make much sense. Therefore, Frankie remained quiet of the next 30 minutes.

“Do you know where the cemetery is?” this time Estella spoke. Frankie tried to control his emotions. Now, he was not the only one who spoke.

He questioned back, “err… the big one or the small…”

“The big cemetery” she answered.

“Yes. I know about it. They buried my mother there.  Why?  What happened?” Frankie said.

“I live near the big cemetery. So you’ll have to drop me there.” Estella’s face was still expressionless.

“You live near the cemetery?” Frankie asked her.

“Do I become a ghost if I live there?  Don’t go on my dress”. Estella was, now, smiling at him.

Frankie became quiet.

15 minutes later… near the cemetery...

“Where now?” asked Frankie.

I don’t remember which turn. It is just a white bungalow. Wherever you see it just…”

“Ok… ok…fine. I’ll search it up”. Frankie then, somehow found the white bungalow. He was amazed. It was magnificent with “Stratford’s” written outside. So, Estella was rich. She lived in a bungalow while Frankie’s was a four-bedroom apartment with people filled up to the hall. As he was lost in his fantasies of owning a big house like Estella’s, she spoke, “Here I have to go. Thank you so much for dropping me home. I’ll always remember you. Bye.” Then Estella started walking towards her house.

 Frankie was still there… imagining things. Then suddenly his eyes fell on Estella, who turned back and smiled.

He smiled back.