ChartanThe ongoing saga of a guru turned limo driver and his search for the meaning of life.

Chartan sprung up in bed, not knowing where he was. He stared at the doorway facing him and the hint of morning light. He heard a low hum and looked down at the expanse of black hair resting on his sheet-covered thigh. He was quickly centered by Gina’s presence. Why had he been lost these past few seconds? What had he done before falling asleep? No answers.

The bottom-third of the door way was taken up with an object. “Daddy, can I have breakfast?”

Chartan was now fully awake. He got out of bed slowly and shuffled over to his son.

“Jake, do you want a ride?”

The boy jumped up and shouted, “Yes.”

He heard a grunt as he reached down. Gina was up. The day was on—no more time to dwell on his memory gap.

Later that day he visited Brazil who was recovering from prostate surgery; i.e., it was removed.  They talked about their night on the mountain until Chartan realized his friend was asleep. Chartan studied the heavily lined face of a warrior so intently he was unaware that Brazil’s wife was standing next to him.

“He looks like a baby, don’t he?” she asked.

At first Chartan was unable to process the intrusion. He cleared his throat and responded quietly with “yes.”

When Chartan drove back to his apartment, he thought of the sleeping face and the stories it could tell. He truly sensed that Brazil didn’t have long to live and that saddened him because he wanted to know more about a man who had become a friend.  The further he drove, the more he realized he didn’t know Brazil at all. In fact, he knew little of Brazil’s wife who had done time with Gina. What had that relationship been about? It was only Jake he was certain of, but even that was threatened by every moment he was away from the boy. He stopped the car—it was good to be home.

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