Short story:

Shadows of Truth

Mr. Wickramarathne whistled softly as he drove his car through the crowded streets. Everything seemed to have come alive. Laughter and endless chatter filled the atmosphere as people hurried through the already packed pavements.

"Ah, the merry month of May" he murmured to himself. Looking beyond the towering buildings he saw the distant trees basked in the sunlight, casting a golden glow to everything around.

He forced his way through the busy streets and finally reached the familiar place where he had visited so often. He made his way along the circular driveway and brought his car to a stop under the porch. His heart warmed yet again as his gaze rested on the familiar sign.

"Little Angles-A home for the orphans".

Curious eyes

He stepped out to the morning sun and was suddenly aware of the curious eyes around him. The children in the playground were engaged in their usual Saturday afternoon playtime. Their eyes eagerly looked from his face to the back of his car, where they knew he kept all the wonders locked in safety.

As always they were tempted to run towards the car but they knew their matron's temper well enough to spare the lecture on good manners. Mr. Wickramarathne laughed heartily as he saw their delighted faces.

He rekindled his memories for he was one of the fortunate people who had a childhood worth remembering but unlike others, he was determined to make the lives of the less fortunate as fortunate as his own.

Anil Wickramarathne, a lawyer by profession, was a well known figure among the sophisticated circles in town. His passion for justice had secured him a reputation as one of the most ruthless criminal lawyers of all time. Not even one criminal had ever slipped through his fingers.

His appearance did justice to his persona. He was in his mid forties, tall handsome, with intelligent eyes, well cut hair and a conservative dress code. There was an air of honesty about him that most people found reassuring.

Though his reputation was that of an accomplished lawyer who neither forgave nor forgot, his close friends and family knew better. His appearance was a shield. Beneath the surface was a man whose heart melted for the tiniest tragedy.

His charity work which he kept under wraps was only known to the closest of friends. Mr. Wickramarathne was like the Santa Claus to the children at the orphanage. For everyone else Santa came once a year but for them he came every month with toys, books and games packed inside his car.

He handed the car key to the watchman and made his way towards the entrance. He chuckled softly as he stole a glance at the children who kept edging nearer when the watchman opened the car. He went in to the office and greeted the humble lady whom he had known for the past ten years.

"Good morning Mrs. Perera!"

Mrs. Perera wished him the same as he flopped into the chair facing her and the usual tete-a-tete followed.

Transferred

"Some children were transferred here from our Nuwara Eliya branch recently", she said after a while.

"Any particular reason?" enquired Mr. Wickramarathne.

"No, it's just that some children want to continue their studies here in Colombo. They think the facilities are much better here".

"Oh. I see," He responded nodding his head in acknowledgement. "Mind if I go and speak a few words with them?"

"Yes of course why not". She rose to her feet and accompanied him to where the older children sat talking to each other. Mrs. Perera walked alongside him and stopped every now and again to introduce him to the children. His eyes ran along to the far corner of the room where a girl all by herself.

He could not see her face as she was keeping a steady gaze out of the window. She slowly turned her head as she heard their footsteps.

Mr. Wickramarathne brought himself to an abrupt stop. It was her eyes that held his attention. She was a lovely girl in her early twenties. Soft dark curls framed her angelic face. Her wide set eyes reflected the colour of midnight. He did not know what had caused the sudden stir in him. For some unknown reason he felt a sense of familiarity in her eyes but she showed no sign of recognition whatsoever.

"Who is she?", his own voice sounded strange to him. Mrs. Perera followed his gaze and unshered him to the other end of the room. He was thankful for the distance between him and the girl for he was aware of the uneasiness that kept mounting inside him.

Grave

Mrs. Perera clasped her hands together and her expression turned grave as she began.

"Her name's Nayomi". She paused to look at him with eyes filled with sorrow. "I was there when she was brought to our Nuwara Eliya branch. Her parents died in an accident eighteen years ago. It was..."

Whatever she said afterwards was inaudible to Mr. Wickramarathne. He felt as if the veil that masked his mind's eye had suddenly parted as memories floated on to the surface.

It had been a gloomy day in the month of November. A slight breeze had come whistling through the looming pine trees as layers of damp evening mist descended upon the mountains. Mr. Wickramarathne had been driving along the winding road, his newly married wife, Angela, beside him. It had been the first time they both had found a holiday to spend with his parents who lived in Nuwara Eliya.

He was amused by the way Angela asked eager questions about everything they passed on their way. Her continuous chatter filled the atmosphere.

"Oh, look darling! What's that waterfall over there?" She tugged at his shirt sleeve forcing him to look out of the window. He never thought for a moment that the fraction of a second could change his entire life. He was taking a bend when Angela Interrupted his attention.

He did not see the jeep that materialised out of nowhere until the last moment. Mr. Wickramarathne braked hard and somehow managed to avoid the collision but the driver in the jeep swerved feverishly to his right and to Mr. Wickramarathne's utmost horror, it skidded on the edge of the road and disappeared out of his vision.

Motionless

Mr. Wickramarathne sat motionless for a few seconds unable to believe his own eyes. Every muscle in his body felt suddenly numb and hollow. Looking back he saw that his wife already gone out. She stood shivering at the edge of the road. He stepped out and made his way towards her.

A horrifying sight greeted him. He knew that it was a steep slope and the chances of survival were very few. The jeep lay cradled between two trees, its windscreen smashed to pieces to reveal two people, probably a couple on a holiday.

Their blood-soaked heads rested peacefully on the dash board. One look at their twisted bodies told him more than he needed to know. And then he heard a muffled cry coming from the direction of the jeep.

His gaze rested on a face that appeared from behind the front two seats. It was a face of a child, a girl not more than two or three years old. Tears ran down her damp cheeks as she gazed at him with her sorrow filled eyes. They reminded him of the midnight sky. Mr. Wickramarathne's heartbeat rose as he took a step towards the jeep.

Surprise

"Let's get out of here Anil". He looked back in surprise to find his wide standing behind him, her arms wrapped around herself.

"But the child". He asked in a voice barely audible. "We can't abandon her like this." Her eyes widened with disbelief.

"Are you insane?". Her voice rose as she came up to join him. Mr. Wickramarathne stared at the woman he had known for so many years yet he suddenly felt like looking at an alien. He couldn't detect even one hint of sympathy in her eyes.

"Listen to me darling". She said with a forced calmness, placing her hands on his arms. He could feel the sense of urgency as she spoke. "No one saw us after the accident but if we take her to the police they would suspect us. Is that what you want?"

"But...". He couldn't trust his own voice. Angela tightened her grip.

"Sooner or later someone will find her. So don't worry". There was a sense of finality in her tone. Mr. Wickramarathne's heart squeezed painfully as he looked into the girl's eyes for the last time. He felt torn between wanting to save her and following his wife. And then he took the decision he regretted all his life. Mr. Wickramarathne followed his wife, his mind trapped in a tangled web.

Eyes

That night he tossed and turned on his bed unable to sleep. The little girl's innocent eyes haunted his thoughts, accusing and torturing him until he drifted into an uneasy sleep. He prayed with all his heart for the girl's safety while his wife prayed for their own. He did not relax until he read the newspaper two days later. The little girl had been found by a woman and her parents had been killed by the accident.

Mr. Wickramarathne heaved a sigh of relief but the shadow of truth tormented him for a longer time. She would have been killed if she hadn't been found. No, he could never forgive himself. He couldn't believe that he was blinded by his wife's words.

As years passed by his family life became a living hell. He gradually saw the real woman beneath the angelic face he had loved in the past. He became aware of the flaws in Angela's character. They became inerasable, indefensible and ultimately unforgettable like smudges and evident brushstrokes in an otherwise beautiful painting.

Workaholic

To minimize the time he spent at home he became a workaholic, sacrificing his time and energy for his profession. Every time he confronted a criminal he felt as if he's dealing with the weaker version of himself, the man who once committed an unpardonable crime. Mr. Wickramarathne fought with a newfound power until he ruthlessly demolished the feeble efforts of the opposition.

As his success in court increased, his marriage however went from bad to worse. They were never blessed with children but he secretly believed that God had not been unjust to his wife denying her right to be a mother.

It had been one of those special days, as he remembered even now, when he had first seen the humble place. From then on he dedicated his weekends to visit the children at the orphanage. The time he spent there was the time he cherished. He loved to see the joy he brought to the lives of the innocent children.

It was an experience beyond anything he had ever come across in his life. Now, may be God has given him a second chance to correct his mistake.

"Mr. Wickramarathne, are you feeling all right?" Mrs. Perera asked, looking up at him with concern. Mr. Wickramarathne slow ly rose to his feet, unaware of the inquiring eyes around him. With every step his heart pounded hard against his chest. Finally he reached her.

She averted her gaze to her lap as she heard him come. His mind was reverberating with questions. "Would she recognise me? May be she still remembers". But she did not even once look up to meet his eyes, a hint of shyness was evident in her angelic face. Words were not coming easy for him. The reputed lawyer felt that he was defeated for the first time in his life. He cleared his throat nervously.

"Uh..Hello Nayomi, my name's Anil Wickramarathne". He said trying to sound casual. The man who ruined your entire life, he silently added to himself.

"Hello sir, I've heard a lot about you."

He saw that she was smiling sweetly her eyes turned down. Her hands rested on the book she kept on her lap.

"Do you like to read books?" he asked wanting to start a conversation.

"Oh yes I love to read," she responded eagerly with childish pleasure. Mr. Wickramarathne suddenly felt an urgent need to protect the fragile girl in front of him. She was old enough to have been his daughter. May be he should speak to Mrs. Perera right now about adopting Nayomi.

His heart warmed at the very thought. Mr. Wickramarathne gazed at Nayomi with new found love and affection. He suddenly realised that he had been oblivious to her continuous chatter. She was still speaking about her favourite topic; books.

"But sir, it was hard to find books there", she continued. "Now that I'm here I'd better start early". His eyes rested on her fingertips that caressed the embossed letters on the cover as she opened the book and then they ran slowly over the page, touching every sentence, not missing a single word written in Braille.

Mr. Wickramarathne looked up at the distant mountains as the sun disappeared out of his vision, enveloping him in the eternal darkness.