Oct 7, 2011

Goldilocks And The Three Bears

By Ilsa Rashid

Jason or jay –as he liked to be known as--was Goldilocks’ mentor, boss, inspiration and father. Goldie had his sharp mind, his skin colour and blue eyes. She had her mother’s hair though; long, thick and golden. The task that she was assigned was the challenge Andrew and Joe had failed. However, her father’s faith in her convinced her to accept the challenge.
The airport was nearing and she knew she’d be airborne soon. She felt a pang in her gut but she repeated to herself the reason why she was here: to bring justice and peace to the souls of Andy and Joe.
The airhostess woke her up when lunch arrived. Goldie pushed the tray; traveling always made her sick, but she sensed it might be the fact that she’d be in remote Alaska in less than four hours.
About 2000 miles away, three figures crept out of the house that awaited Goldie.
Goldilocks felt her eyelashes might freeze. Her Ray Ban shades didn’t help much. Ten minutes later, she was shifted to a snow mobile. Soon, a wooden cottage, like ones Goldie read about in fairytales, was in view. “This is it,” Goldie said to herself, gripping the cold revolver in her pocket.
She felt like the wind might knock her off her feet. Placing each step firmly, Goldie made her way to the door and knocked loudly.
She shrugged and, with mastered skill, jammed a kick and flung the door open. With feline agility she positioned her gun.
“Our visitor has arrived,” Jim said, with a sly smile across his face. “Bunch o’ asses, them all.”
The three laughed with evident mockery. They slunk into their couches and watched the LCD screen in the comfort of their hi-tech igloo half a mile away from Goldilocks.
Goldilocks made her way around the house; her practiced eyes darting for any movement. The house was empty but not abandoned; she discovered three bowls full of porridge on the table, unmade beds and maps of the Alaska on walls. Although the porridge was tempting, she followed her instincts and relied on the bag of crisps she carried. Goldilocks turned the rooms around. She tapped on the floors and looked behind every map and frame. After hours of investigation, she perched on the edge of a table and rested her elbow on a carved eagle beside her. With what seemed like magic, the eagle twisted under her arm and the Persian rug before her rose about two inches.
Goldie’s eyes widened in disbelief.
Eddie swore under his breath.
The trio stepped into the state-of-the-art snow mobile, very cleverly smuggled from France.
“This dress itches,” whined Carl.
“Growl,” was Jim’s reply.
“You suck at sarcasm. Jim.”
“Shut up and drive,” were the final words.
It was dark. It smelt of blood, oil and burnt wood. The walls were slimy and wet. Goldie felt like a child again, who saw monsters in the room at night. However, Goldie was sure she was not alone. Goldie gingerly moved forward and thrust her hand towards a vague outline she could observe.
The snow mobile halted right outside the door.
It felt damp and sticky; and rough in some areas. Like a bolt of lightning, the revelation came to Goldie—along with a wave of nausea—and she withdrew her hand in disgust.
Light. Blinding light; no it wasn’t the heavens calling. They were flashlights directed right at her face. As her vision adjusted, goldilocks saw the last image she had imagined she’d ever witness. Three hungry polar bears stood on all fours. It took a long moment before she realized it was a disguise.
“Like our costume? Itchy, but useful,” ‘growled’ the largest bear, who then took off his mask to reveal a face that looked better with the mask on. The flashlight swayed to the right and exposed the identities of the hanging corpses. Andy and Joe. And soon, she knew, she’d be joining them.
She had no where to run. It was at this odd instant that she remembered some verses she had learnt as a trainee:
Be a fighter,
die, but suffer,
don’t let chains bind you,
and if the enemy finds you,
make your loss a gain,
so that your name,
may be written in bold and gold,
so just hold your head up high,
today, you may die,
but your sacrifice shall survive.
Goldilocks smiled to herself and, with utmost caution, slid her hand into her pocket and speed dialed her father.
“Don’t I get a last wish?” Goldilocks played her card.
“Speak,” was the reply.
‘Tell me about this place. Who are you? And who do you work for?”
The largest ‘bear’ considered it.
“We work for Jake Enwall. Been lookin’ for him since long, haven’t ya? This place is studded with ‘em gems. Rubies, Emeralds, Amethysts; you name it. Been years here, no one but your friends discovered this place. Poor Andy didn’t even make it inside; the porridge did the job and finished him within seconds.”
Goldilocks swore out loud.
“Nice choice for a last word,” Carl smiled.
Jason knew what the gunshot meant. He disconnected the call and shut his eyes.
“Today, you may die
But your memory shall survive,” he repeated to himself.


Sania Bilwani said...

Ilsa, I've said it before and I'll say it again; I absolutely love this!
The poem was awesome. I can't even get things to rhyme.
"Light. Blinding light; no it wasn’t the heavens calling. They were flashlights directed right at her face"
^ :D

Fatema Shabbir said...

I love it! Especially the poem!! :)

Ilsa said...

Aw thankyou!

Asma Afzal said...

WOAH. You wrote the poem yourself? I thought it might have been a song, or quoted from somewhere :o love it.
"Today, you may die
But your memory shall survive." <3

Areeba Jibril said...

This is really interesting, I love the way you chose to end it. The last two lines of the poem stay with you, and they make for a great ending.

Zoha Jabbar said...

You WROTE the poem? Wow, that's impressive.

"Nice choice for a last word"
^ That was my favourite xD

Ilsa said...

Hehe thanks all of you :) yeah. Poetry is something that just comes to me like a revelation sometimes.

Fatin said...

The poetry bit was really something, but I found myself getting lost throughout the beginning. But, great ending.

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