Mr. Sandman

Tables. With glass walls on top. Holes in the glass to speak. Chairs to sit. Feet. My feet, walking to the chair. Sitting down. “Yes?”

The man was tall. He had an oval face. Stretched neck. Thin glasses. Sparse hair. “I would....” I looked around, tables, chairs, glass with holes. “I would like to make a withdrawal”. The man raised his eyebrows; it made his glasses come down lower. “Can I have the slip?” he said. Hands. Nothing. Pockets. Nothing. Bag? I reached for my bag and brought it up to my lap. Books, a compass box, random pieces of paper, no slip. Last chain. There. I pulled it out and handed it through the hole in the glass. The oval man looked at it. “If you would follow me sir”, he said. He got up and led the way. To follow him I had to cross the table where he sat. We passed by other tables as we walked. All of them had glass walls with holes in them.

Elevator music played in the background. Ding ding ding. A rising piano sequence. It rose and restarted. Reached the highest note and began again. Ding ding ding. “We keep the lockers at the back. We don’t want anyone to get to them now do we?” I had learnt that adults try to get children interested by dumbing things down. But this was something that already had my interest. “So you and all the other bank workers are the only ones who have access?” The man laughed. “If we had complete access to your secrets it would be illegal. The lockers cannot be opened unless we use two keys. Which means I cannot open your vault,” he walked to a place filled with rows upon rows of drawers, “unless you are with me.” He seemed to know his way around the drawers. I followed him. Ding ding ding. There was no numbering on the drawers, which made it impossible to tell one from the other. So how did he know which one was mine? “Here we are.” he said. A key appeared from his pocket and disappeared into one of the two slots. The left slot remained empty. “Use your key and make your withdrawal. I’ll give you your privacy.” With those words the man left. The elevator music rose and began again. Ding ding ding. Pockets. Hands. Bag. Compass? Nope. I need to go home and get the key. Ding ding ding.

“Yes?” the man looked at me with his eyebrows raised. It made his glasses slip further down his nose. “Huh?” I asked. The man stared. “May I help you sir?” he asked. “I.....“, table, chair, glass wall with a hole. “I would like to make a withdrawal”. I replied. “Can I have the slip?” he asked. Hands. There. I handed over the slip. He looked at them and nodded. “If you would follow me please”. I did as I was told. I followed him. We both passed rows of tables with workers. Did they all have a key to my safe? “Do they all have a key to my safe?” I asked. “No sir. Every lock has two keys. You have one and the bank has the other.” he pointed to the drawers. “Through here”. We entered the maze of drawers. How did he know which one was mine? Ding ding ding. “How do you know which one is mine?” the man laughed. “They have numbers on them sir. It’s this one”, he pointed at my drawer - Number 420. A key appeared from his pocket and disappeared into the slot. “I’ll give you some privacy”. He walked away. Right. The key. That I got from home. Ding ding ding.

Door. Home. Bag. Heavy. Off my shoulders. “Mom!” I yelled as I walked in. “Mom! I need the key”. She stepped out of the kitchen wiping her hands on her apron. “What key?”

“The bank key.” I replied. Duh.

“Check the drawer”. She said, pointing at the drawer below the television. I went for it. Spare batteries, remote, old wallets, watches, pieces of paper my father wouldn’t throw, and there, the key. I picked it up and put it in my pocket. “I’m going out!” I yelled. She was already back in the kitchen. I knew without looking. I ran out to go play with my friends.

“Yes?” the man asked with his eyebrows raised and his glasses lowered. I was ready this time. “I would like to make a withdrawal”. He nodded. “Can I see the slip?” he said. I looked down. Hands. Bag. Chain. I put a hand in this time instead of looking. Textbooks. Compass. Paper scraps. Slippery bag material. Ding ding ding. There. The slip. I pulled it out and handed it to the man. He looked it over and nodded. “If you would follow me please.”

“You have no focus in life. If you would just eat two fish every morning you could get almost as big as me.” Mandar rubbed his stomach as he said this. Shubham fell over laughing. Mandar continued walking around with his stomach sticking out, hand behind his back. I laughed too. It was a pretty good impression. “Nonsense, what is this you do? Laffing? Silence please!” Shubham slapped the ground with his hand. No sound escaped his mouth. I threw my head back. I could still laugh. Mandar let go of his hands and stomach to join us on the floor. We were at Mr. Gokhale’s house. A neighbour who wasn’t home. We weren’t supposed to be here, but nobody would know. Mandar stopped laughing. Ding ding ding. The lines in his face dropped down. “My mother passed away. The funeral was last month. I didn’t go.” Shubham put a hand on his shoulder. Somehow he looked older. When did Shubham get glasses. Knock knock knock. Three loud knocks on the door. I turned around and stared at the door. It was white. A single latch was the only thing stopping whoever was outside from discovering us. My friends would know what to do. I turned to look at them. Mandar looked excited now. He handed me a small folded piece of paper. “The newest stuff in the market.” he said. “Been selling it. Never tried it. They say it’s therapeutic. Gives you sleep. And dreams. They call it-” Knock knock knock. “Bilal! Are you in there? Let me in! I wanna play too.” My name made my head turn. I know that voice. My sister. I turned to Mandar. He shook his head. “We can’t let her in. She’ll tell everyone that we smoke in here”.

Knock knock knock.

“Bilal. Please”. My chest tightened. I could never say no to her.

We passed by the tables with the holes. I said nothing. “Right through here”. The drawers. The numbers on the drawers. 100,200,300,400, 1,5, 10, 15…“here we are”. A key appeared from the man’s pocket and disappeared into the slot. “I’ll give you some privacy.” he said, and walked away. Ding ding ding. Pocket. Key. I still have it. It was a tiny key. Identical to the one the bank attendant carried. Into the right hole. And turn. *click* I slid the drawer open and pulled it out. It was no longer a part of the wall, it was in my hand. And it was heavy. I placed it on the table. Was there always a table? The drawer had two things. I scanned all of its corners without putting a hand in. Yep. Two things - a folded piece of newspaper, and a doll. Ding ding ding. I picked up the doll. I know this doll.

The sun burned bright. I lifted the doll up to shield my eyes. “Come on you slowpoke!” noise all around me. People talking, walking, being people. “Ha.ha. ha. Bilal is a slowpoke. Bilal is a slowpoke”. I know that voice. My sister. She ran further. She was in the lead already? Not a problem. I ran. She laughed. Why does she do this? I’m faster than her. She knows that. The crowd and the lead gave her an advantage, but I could catch up before we got home. The crowd would thin down closer to my place. Open road advantage, and then there was the fact that she had a weakness. *bark!bark! *

“Whoa!” I stopped running. That’s what you do when a dog barks in your face. You do not run. You cannot outrun a dog. Not in this life. The dog held its mouth open and dripped saliva on the ground. *bark bark* it went. I put my hands up like they told bad guys in movies to. It stretched its neck to reach for the dolls legs. It couldn’t reach. *bark bark* the dog wants the doll. My sister laughed in the background. She knew. This was why I had the doll. She knew the dog wants the doll. As she laughed she took baby steps backwards increasing her lead while I was stuck. I can’t throw the doll, my parents will kill me. It’s her favourite toy. I could hear ‘her’ laughter in the background. Damn. She thought this through. Okay. Okay. Think. I held the doll out in front of me, the dog jumped to catch it. I lowered it. It jumped again. And again. Dogs are not smart. I can work with this. I look up at my sister. She was almost out of the market. Now or never. I switched hands. The doll was in my right now. I pulled my hand back and acted like I was about to throw it. The dog ran ahead, but came back as he saw I still had it. That’s it. I moved my legs this time and repeated the movement. And again. I twisted my upper body. The doll was held between my head and my hand like a shot-put ball. I went back to front three more times. The dog was ecstatic. The chase was about to begin. I pulled my upper body back. And release. The dog ran. I did too. My sister took a second to realize that I was back. She turned and ran. She ran. I ran in her direction. Not the dog’s direction. I wasn’t going to reach the doll before a dog did. I’m not stupid. I ran.

Ding ding ding.

I ran without looking at the zoo animals around me. I had already seen them. And my sister was slow but she wasn’t that slow. I turned to look at her. Big mistake. “ooph”, It felt like I had run into a wall. I landed on my butt. How did a wall get here? The wall stared at me, its friends sneered. I know this wall. I have seen it in school. “I know you”, said the wall. It went into a squatting position to come up to my eye level. “You’re that muslim kid. What’s your name? Mohammed? Abdul?” its friends tried to hold their laughter. It sounded like someone trying to hold back a sneeze. “What are you doing playing with dolls?” The boys that stood in front of me threw what they were carrying in their hands into the monkey cage. Whatever it was spread out in the cage and even hit some of the monkeys. The monkeys screeched at the boys. The boys ignored them. I was the new target. I knew these guys. My friends and I tried fighting them once. We lost. Lost bad. But this was the first time I was facing them alone. They looked bigger now. “Bilal! Don’t sit on the ground. It’s dirty!” My mom yelled at me. I turned my head. A smile of relief. My sister had run back to fetch my parents. She was dragging my dad by his hand. My mother followed close behind. I felt something land on my foot. The guy who felt like a solid as a wall was now standing on my foot. “I’ll see you later”, he said. With that they walked away. I have never loved my sister more.

Ding ding ding.

" Yes?” the man looked at me with his eyebrows raised. The action made his glasses slip further down his nose. Hand. Table. *Bang* The chair behind me fell over. I hadn’t realized that I stood up. I had however, knowingly brought my hand down on the table. “Let me out!” I said. The man looked confused. “Sir?”

“Let me out.” I repeated. It sounded like a clear instruction. I moved closer to read the name tag on his shirt. Mr. Sandman. It said, with black font on a yellow background. “Let me out” I repeated. A smile came across his lips. “You may leave whenever you want.” he said. “If you can”. Ding ding ding.

I took a deep breath. okay. Don’t panic. Don’t panic. Damage control. Where am I? I turned around. Nothing. Miles and miles of white floor stretched around behind me. So that’s a no on the exit. I looked ahead again. Tables and glass walls with holes. So many bank workers. Men. Women. None of them paying attention to me. Wait. why are they all so busy? I was the only customer here. But still all 20 tables looked busy. They were talking on phones, filling out forms, arranging cabins. None of them smiling, laughing or talking. Completely silent. Ding ding ding. Except for that. What is that? I looked around. Nope. No elevator. No walls. All the tables were strewn about on the floor. There was no order. There were no walls. No start. No end. My own teller was the only one still looking at me. He had a grin on his face. It helped with the evil vibe. “I’m leaving”, I said. The teller made a sound. “You will be back”.

I made no reply. Instead I walked to the lockers. Maybe there was an exit behind the lockers. It’s my only hope. I walked to the lockers. Without the bank worker to guide me the journey seemed to last forever. And then I was there. Lockers around me. Wait, where was I going? Ding ding ding. Oh yeah. 420. The numbers would show me the way. Ding ding ding. The numbers would know. I touch the lockers as I pass by. I wonder what’s in there. Mine had a doll and a piece of paper. That was another mystery.

420. I’m here. I reached into my pocket. I turned the lock. It clicked open. So I didn’t need him. The man lied. I could open the drawer alone. Ding ding ding. I pulled the drawer out and placed it on the metal table. It was the same. A doll and a piece of paper. A folded piece of paper. I picked up the paper. There was something inside. Something cubical that could fit in my palm. No time to think. I need to get out. I picked up the doll. She would be mad if I lost it. Now for the exit. Bright light hit my eyes. I lifted the doll to shield them. A door. Right behind the lockers. Hiding in plain sight. Jackpot. Ding ding ding. I ran. Mostly because I couldn’t take this place anymore.

I ran. I lost too much time. She was out of the market. I wasn’t. I pushed whatever came in the way. Which was mostly purses, paunches and plastic bags of vegetables. I was out. There she was, a bit further to my left. But essentially at the same place. She had lost the lead and this is where my advantage began. I jumped off the sidewalk and onto the road. She can’t cross. This race is mine. I ran. Traffic was quick. I was quicker. “Bilal!” I heard her yell out. “My doll!” hah. She couldn’t catch me. I made it to the ledge in the middle of the road. I jumped on. Brakes screeched. I didn’t care. I was winning. I set my sight on the next road. Not yet. I could see the perfect moment to cross. Just a second away. “Oh my god!” Someone yelled. “What happened?” People always yell. It’s what they do. Markets are the best place to yell without being heard. I felt behind me for the doll. I had placed the doll on my collar. Throwing nothing for the dog. Faking it. But all I felt was neck. Oh. The doll fell. So that’s what she was saying. I turned to look for it. Traffic had stopped. That would make it easier. Something pink was on the side of the road. Right off the footpath. It trailed a path to whatever everyone was looking at. “She just, she just, she jumped! In the middle of the road!” Someone yelled. Everyone was looking at the doll. My sisters doll lying in the middle of the road. My sister lying with it, holding onto it. The pink on the road led straight to her. It looked like some trampled vegetable. My sister would have found it funny.

Knock knock knock “Bilal!” I looked at Mandar. He should really let me open the door. “Open it”. He said. I was relieved. I looked down at the folded piece of paper. And I opened it. There was a single cube inside. It looked yellow. I picked the cube up. It was solid enough to hold in my fingers, but any pressure could cause it to crumble. Now that it was in my hand I could see that it wasn’t yellow, at least not pure yellow. The cube was made of tinier cubes. Like tiny grains of salt stuck together. All of them different shades of yellow. “Eat it”, Mandar said, trying to help. I placed it in my mouth and mouthed. What is it? He grinned so wide that his lips almost touched his ears. “It’s called Mr.Sandman”, he said. “It’s the latest thing on the market.” I nodded. Then looked at the ceiling. “So what now?” I asked the ceiling. “Now we lie down.” Mandar replied. “And we dream”. I did. I put my head back, lay on my back. Ding ding ding. The elevator stopped on my floor. It always made that noise until someone shut the door.