Shelton Market: A Short Story

I was walking on a dark, dreary, long and empty road where no existence of a mortal could be found, except for the trees which stood along the pavements of the road. It was after midnight on 13th December, 1989. I was walking fast to reach my friend’s house near Shelton Market. The reason for visiting my friend so late was the illness of his beloved wife. As a doctor, I accepted his plea to see his wife who had been suffering from tuberculosis for the past six months.

They got married a year ago. At the time of his marriage, he was poor but soon afterwards, his fate sparkled as his wife won a lottery ticket. But my poor friend lost his only child, after which his wife’s health started to deteriorate. The boy passed away after the delivery due to lack of oxygen.

My friend Rollins and I had been best buddies since the fifth grade. If someone else had called me this late, I would have definitely refused them. But I could never say no to him. I reached Shelton Market at around 12:30 a.m. The place was so quiet that it

“There is no one here except you and me.” I stared at the child who looked about eight or nine years old. “Who would I not be able to save?” I asked again. The boy grinned, “You’re making haste to see your friend’s pretty spouse, who is suffering from some serious coughing disease, isn’t she?” I was astounded. “What of her? And who are you?”

“The question shouldn’t be ‘who I am’ but what she is to me. That pretty wife of your dearest friend! She owes me, you know,” he said resentfully. I figured that my friend’s wife had borrowed some goods from the shop of this boy and forgot to give him money. “Oh, better come with me. I am going to her home and her husband will pay you.”

“Fool.” The boy said in his shrill tone, which was loud enough to wake the crows up in that old oak tree. “It’s not the money; that pretty woman had a wager with me, and she lost it.” He implied as if he had won some great