Leaves

      The sun sweeps the roads to brilliance as I rode my bicycle. Weaving my way around potholes and muddy puddles, I hurry on the more or less dusty roads. My destination, an abandoned, shrub overgrown enclosed area to the south of the new cemetery.
      As I approach the large rusted gates, I see the bicycles of Ameen and Yoos parked outside, their chain locks looped through the grilles. I do the same to my bicycle, and squeeze my way in to the green enclosure guarded by walls of grey cement. It always amazes me how quiet it becomes the moment I step in here.
      “Hey, you’ve been a while” Ameen calls out. He is sitting on the grass peppered with yellow flowers, his athletic frame resting against the trunk of a gnarled tree. We never did determine what kind of tree it was, though numerous debates on the nature of the tree are held right under its shade.
      Yoos’s back is to me as I make my way to them. He turns around, his myopic eyes distorted under thick spectacles. From over his shoulder, I see he is reading a book, one I was too familiar with.
      “Not that again?” I ask, sitting down cross legged next to him, facing Ameen. Yoos goes back to reading. He doesn’t talk much. We like it that way, because when he does talk much, he frightens us somewhat. And that we don’t like at all.
       Ameen stretches his arms and legs and yawns. “Did you bring the bilimagu leaves?”
      “Yea.” I reply, pulling out a handful of crumpled green leaves from my pocket.
      ”You should have brought more. That might not be enough”
       “Doesn’t matter. No one is home today, we can go back and pluck some more.”
       “Right, Yoos, stop reading that crap and give us the goods”
       Yoos reaches inside the big pocket on his brown cargo pants, and pulls out a cigarette pack. I snatch it from his hands and get busy with tearing the top open. I pull out one cigarette, and throw the pack to Ameen. He deftly catches it with the least possible movement, and pulls out a partly dislodged cigarette with his lips. Before long, he lights it with a box of matches he fishes out of his shirt pocket, and inhales with a hiss.
      “Aaah that feels just nice” He sighs, slumps down more against the tree, his eyes out of focus at an indeterminate spot in the sky. I lean over and take the matches from Ameen.
      Double Happiness Safety Matches.
     “Why are they called safety matches?” I ask.
      Yoos mumbles, his eyes still intent on the book. “Coz they can only be lit from the box.”
      “Huh?”
      “If not, they won’t be safe. They can ignite anywhere, on any surface”
      “Aah!” I comprehend.
      “Stop that talk of igniting and surfaces. Reminds me that I have to study for tomorrow’s exam” Ameen moans, swirls of grey smoke issuing from his lips, making the trunk of the tree seem part of the grey wall behind.
       I strike a match on the box, just to be on the safe side, and it blooms into an orange bud, not yet a blossom. Happiness Once – It lights up. I bring it to my cigarette and puff. Happiness Twice – That lights up too. Thus Double Happiness, I assume.
       The first drag of the day is the best. The smoke goes straight to my head, swirling up through my eyeballs, distorting my vision for a nanosecond, and then envelopes the grey matter further up. I plunk down on my back, seeing the smoke outside and feeling it inside. I move my head just a fraction, so that my eyes are shaded by the outermost leaf of the undefined tree.
      It is so very quiet in here.
      We don’t talk much. We don’t even normally hang around together much. Yoos, for all his reading, hardly fares well in studies. Ameen, for all his good looks, is still looking forward to his first kiss. Me, for all my everything, got nothing inside. Except, for the moment, some smoke.
       I just lie down there, looking at the sky, observing the intensity of the sun waning from white to yellow to orange. It is getting late. I got an exam to ace and a girl to flatter, the latter takes precedence.
       My third cigarette winks out of its fiery existence.
       I sit up, and realize I must have dozed off. Neither Ameen nor Yoos is there. I look at the ground and there aren’t any of the bilimagu leaves I had brought. I need them if I was to go to appease the girl. I look up and see the leaves of the undefined tree slowly waving in the breeze. And I wonder.
       I walk up to the tree, and stroke the rough bark, all the while looking up. The lowest branches are just below the top of the wall. With the thought that I can reach the leaves sprouting from these branches, I clamber up the tree. Halfway, I grab a small branch, and jump. It snaps from the tree and lands on the ground with me. I straighten myself and strip the leaves from the amputated branch. I quickly rub them over my fingers and over my face, especially over my mouth, making sure that their smell is overpowering enough. Putting one leaf in my mouth and chewing it, I squeeze out through the rusty gates, unlock my bicycle, and ride away.