I was a chain smoker back in London and gosh they say bad habits die hard but this one took my life.
It was raining that day and I didn’t have an umbrella with me so I decided to take a cab. Strangely I found the cab easily even when it was the peak of rush hour. I told the driver my address and he immediately took off.
I pulled out my lighter and a cigarette when the driver spoke, “Can You Light Mine Too?”. I was surprised as I haven’t seen many cabbies smoke especially when they have a ride with them. I nodded as he was looking at me through the rearview mirror.
“It’s tipping down huh.”, the cabbie said.
I nodded. I wasn’t particularly in the mood to speak and wanted to enjoy my cigarette quietly.
“Sorry, I was just trying to initiate a conversation. It’s been a busy day for me.”
“Yeah, it had been for me too.”, I replied almost feeling pity for the cabbie.
“How’s Samuel these days?”, he asked.
I was frozen for a second there. He asked again, “How’s Samuel these days?”
I was now in utter shock, Samuel was my father’s name. He never came to London, in fact, he was settled in Miami with my stepmother. My mother passed away when I was 5.
“Ho-How do you know him?”
“Samuel?”, the cabbie asked.
I nodded.
“I would’ve told you but my cigarette went out…can you light my cigarette?”, he asked.
I looked at my hand, I just took a single puff during the whole ride while he completed a full cigarette, I tried to reason it in my mind by assuming he must’ve been a heavy smoker and must be quite experienced. I tried not to dwell on the thought much. I asked again lighting his cigarette, “How do you know Samuel, my father?”
“You are playing with fire Landon, you are sure to burn.”, he said sighing.
“Would you just answer?”
“Ask him will you, tell him how did he survive the fire.”
I was getting desperate to hear the answer from his mouth. I slammed the back of his seat.
“Answer me DAMMIT!”, I shouted.
“Listen carefully, there lived a boy named Billy. Samuel and Billy were smokers too. They used to smoke a lot, then even skipped school for it. Then one day, they went to ride bikes and stopped at Bill’s house. They lit a cigarette again as they wanted to finish one before heading in but they didn’t know that Billy’s father was fixing his car and had a gasoline can beside him. Samuel threw his cigarette and it went straight in. The burst was so hard that the house was on fire.
Samuel somehow was alive and escaped from there while Billy shouted his name for help. Billy was still alive. Samuel ran away and an hour later the fire truck came along with the police and the medics. Everybody was dead till then except Billy’s mother who was out shopping. Billy’s younger sister and her dad along with Billy were badly burned. It was even hard to tag who was whom.
The incident was investigated and Samuel blamed Billy for smoking, when Billy’s mother arrived at the scene she was in utter shock and fainted. Since then there was no one for her left she spent her whole life alone, blaming his son for the terror that fell upon them that day.
Samuel could’ve told the truth, that might’ve helped the widowed lady and given her peace so that she could’ve forgiven his son. But Samuel never visited her and continued his life with just a scar of that incident.”
Father always showed me that scar telling me he got it while cooking food for my grandmother. I never believed him of course but I never knew the truth.
“How do you know all this?”, I asked.
“I would tell you but I am out of cigarettes and we arrived at the destination.”
I looked at my hand, my cigarette burnt out. I got off the cab making a mental note about asking my dad about it. The rain stopped and pulled out a small diary to note the cab’s number. The cabbie went away before I could knock on his window and ask how he knows all about it.
The cab rushed away and I was alone on the street under the clouds. I pulled out a new cigarette and when I was about to light it I heard a whisper in my right ear, Can you light my cigarette? I looked back but there was no one, I was still alone.
I went into the house and tried to light it again but whenever I did, I always heard the whisper, Can you light my cigarette?
I was now getting frustrated and couldn’t sleep so I decided to call my father. I told him everything and he was shocked and asked me how I knew all this. I asked him in anger what happened to Billy’s mother. He said she shifted somewhere in Eton, Berkshire as my grandparents told him when my father asked after a few years, but he never had the courage to visit her. I cursed at him for not telling her the truth and hung up the phone.
The next morning I took a cab to her house and told her the complete truth, she was weeping in front of me. I calmed her down and promised to visit her every weekend, somehow she smiled when I said that…
After that day I quit smoking cause whenever I picked one out of my pocket I hear the whisper, Can you light my cigarette?