Home Novel Thriller/Aksi With Love, Katherine
With Love, Katherine
10/9/2018 23:28:11
Kategori: Novel
Genre: Thriller/Aksi
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Grieving. To distress mentally; cause to feel grief or sorrow.

Even thegrieving word have a morose phonetic. It sounds sad. A feeling that a personfeels when something bad happen or bad news report for something that are verysentiment or daring.

“Ed, you ready?” a distancevoice shouted at me. Wakes me from the void. Sight through the thick wall.

“Yes.” I replied.

As I leavethe room the dark glooming feeling surrounded me and somehow the emotionalcontext beyond the wall that I’ve been hiding from for a while has evolve to acolossal monster and coming to attack me. Its like the Titanic. But with nosurvivor.

“You drive.” my sister,Rose.

“Sure. Perhaps this is thelast time I can at least bring her somewhere.” I replied as the wheel turns,brought us toward our destination.

“She needed to rest. Hertime has come.” Rose, with a faint voice.

Her name isKate-Rosemary William. An angle with no voice. By no voice I mean she’s mute.No talking. But the way she acted always intrigue me. Its like our mind is connected.Her way with arts is actually the way she communicates with people.

But apparently no oneunderstand her. Accept me and my family. No. She is not my older sister noryounger sister. She is no one else other than my grandmother. Well, to make itshort, she died of old age.

Her beingdead is a currency that I don’t know how to spend. Although I do realize thatbeing dead is an obligatory thing to do when you’re old enough or when the timehas come. That is the nature of existence. We share this common thing with allspecies. Even earth have its own age. 4.543 billion years old. And one day itwill die. Anyway, let’s not talk about age.

This world.It falls apart after I received a phone call yesterday during my lecture. Itkilled me from the inside.

“You there, Ed?” A faintvoice that keep shouting at me.

You knowhaving a palace on your mind making you having the whole time in the world. Butif suddenly someone call you without a notice, it surely disturbed your serenemind palace. Nonetheless, why do we even call is palace for ourselves ifsomeone could interrupt it?

“Yeah. Here we are. A sadplace.” I responded.

“Well you don’t have to beall dramatic. I know you’re the emotional one but this is just a tradition.”Said Rose.

“She died Rosie.” I statedmy defense.

“Everyone dies. That is theonly thing you can rely upon human to do. You just need to wait for your turn.Just like anybody else.” She replied.

You know it always be a wasteof a time to have an argument with my sister. For a person who know universebetter than others, she knows nothing of human nature.

            I walked out of the hearseas I reached the destination and indulged myself onto the lightless surrounding.Waiting for the others to be arrive at the burial site. The whole world seemsto lose it colours. The whole technicolour world turns to a monochrome world.Probably because one of the best human being ever existed are not here anymore,that even the world is grieving for it lost.

At thegraveyard everything is written in Arabic. The tombstone was written in Arabicnumeric. But it literally just names and dates. Although I might should’ve toldyou from the beginning that my grandparents were Muslim.

My granddad, He is not fromEngland nor from the Europe continent. He is from Malaysia. They’ve beentogether after the World War Two. Well somehow, I heard that their romanticentanglement was very strong and unusual due to the understanding of paintingsand arts. Only they can understand each other. Like I said, art is the only mygrandmother, who is a mute, to communicate with people.

* * * * * * * * * *

As all peoplehas arrived, the coffin was carried to the location of the burial and tombstone.The ground dug is sure deep and starless. My mom is crying on the other side.And dad, pray silently as his mother is going down the hole.

“As we all witness today,once again we are at a great lost. Kate-Rosemary William, a mother, a family, afriend, a colleague, a painter, an artist. As always, she is one of the bestthing could happen to the world. Her smile puts a lot of thing in order andrepairs a broken heart. Her artworks will always remain as a sentiment value ofher to the world. And may she, rest in peace.” Said dad.

I don’treally know if dad have any special connection with her to be honest. Dadalways busy with his work. He’s a businessman. A jack of all trades, master ofnon but better than a master of one. His work had something to do with stocksmarket.

 After school he decided to study abroad inUnited State of America. Rather than stay with granny here. He even goes tostudy with his own money. He is gifted with a brilliant mind. A mind to readand predict the probability in business. Although I should just say, he is amathematician who calculate money rather than calculate the speed of inflationof the universe. Maybe Andromeda nor Bellatrix does not intrigue him at all.But he seems a little bit excruciating today. Well of course, its his motherwho died today.

“In this perplexed anddespondent world, she finds her way to be disparate in a unique way. That herunique-ness making the lost of her somehow a very costly value to us. But asalways, she would always be in our heart.” Dad finished his speech.

And the undertaker startedto pour ground on her, everyone began sobbing.

“Is it raining already?”said Rose.

“I can’t just pour the rainhere, can I?” I replied with something on my eyes.

“Sometimes it is better tohave some storm rather than little rain from the summer.”

I cried.

* * * * * * * * * *

Time passed by, seconds became minutes, minutes becamehours. For sure a storm with a struck of lightning began to show a little daylight. The monochrome world that overcome the colours of the world finally shed away. It’s like when youplay one of Vivaldi’s pieces, four seasons, winter, the music changed everyminute. The weather became clearer and clearer. We all cheer up a bit. Well,can’t mourn all the rowdy day.

                As we all drove back home, mom made some tea andbrought biscuits. Many people came and said hello and sorry. Indeed, thishappened when someone dies. Visiting. But most of them I don’t even know who.Some people from my father’s childhood. And some are just people who mygrandmother borrowed sugar from. It’s the neighbours.

I think thistradition of visiting people when they died is a preposterous activity. Dohuman have this behavior of only remembering or appreciate thing once they lostit. What happened during her life time? I mean what they would do if the thingthat they lost today is still available at any moment.

Interesting expression.

Do we even have the thingwe lost from the beginning? Well surely, I can’t answer that. Time is limited, weshould’ve spent it with things we love. I learned it the hard way I guess. Didn’ttake the time I had for granted.

As the dayturn from a cloud with a silver lining to an orange-ish sky, more and morepeople came by to say sorry. More biscuit being consumed, more tea beingboiled, more sadness being paste on the tall wall that we call feeling. Somepeople start handing me some stuff they got from grandmother. One of them is astatue made out of clay. A statue, with a face on the other side. Looks like a Greekphilosopher. Archimedes?

“Your grandma gave it to mebecause I pass her salt that I thought were sugar. I don’t really understandwhy though. Something about being a slow worker. I thought she was angry butthen, again, I don’t understand what she’s doing. So, I just took it home andkeep it as a gift.” Said Melissa, the nurse who took care of her.

“It means you dense.” Ireplied with a confident voice.

“Sorry? You were saying?”replied Melissa.

“You dense. That’s what sheproclaimed.”

“No. she didn’t. How dareyou?!” as she set her eyes toward me. That deadly glaring eyes.

“This is Archimedes. Thisis from one of his principle to measure the buoyancy in salt water.”

She gave a confused lookand it looks funny.

“You gave her salt that youthought were sugar. Well, Archimedes’ principle states that the upward force ona submerged object is equal to the weight of the water that it displaces. Saltwater weighs more than fresh water, so it exerts a greater upward force on asubmerged object. In other word, if you mix fresh water and salt water, thefresh water would stay on the top as the salt water is denser than the freshwater. So, a way to be angry with you is by passing you Archimedes’ statue isactually to tell you that you’re dense. Assuming yourself as a salt water.Which part of the insult you didn’t get?” I explained while eye staring deepinto her vigorous eye of irate.

I laughed internally. Shedoes know how to insult the best. My grandmother.

“You have no right to saythat to me!” As she stormed through the hallway.

I always realize peopledon’t like me when I open my mouth. They say I’m being too straight forwardabout what people hiding. I’m just being honest.

“Good job there, brother.”Said Rose across the room. She saw what happened on the court of appeal.

“Not everyone isintimidated or fascinated by your intelligent prowess.” She continued.

“Shut up.” I replied while makingmy way toward a bedroom. I wanted to have a rest and sleep. This crowdedsituation making me hate human contact nor touches.

                The door frame I’m reachinglooks like a portal to another world. And it seems like the time suddenly moveslow. But at least I’m far from other people. Out of reach. On the other sideof the bed there’s a picture of grandmother and granddad, the happy couple. Iheard the story of how they met before. It was romantic indeed. They had a littlepinky promise since they were small kid. Childhood friend apparently. Together,they endured war and that is one long lasting love.

                Emotional context somehow always a bad chemicalreaction in my opinion. It takes all your concentration and put it somewhereelse so that our mind can only focus on the love or the emotion. It consumesmuch more energy and effort to it think that way. And because we focus the emotionalcontext rather than the logic, everything seems to be wonderful.

Yet, the backend story is adisaster. People usually do idiotic move when they are in love. Moronicdecisions then lead to moronic consequences. And sometimes its other people whohave to take care of the consequences.

“This is exhausting.” Imuttered.

As I lay down on the bed,my eyes set straight to the ceiling. It’s getting darker and darker. Whitelight penetrated through the windows and light up the whole room turns unlitand starless.

The light faded. I fallasleep. 5.50 P.M.


* * * * * * * * * *


I woke up.

It’s been 2 hours. Iremembered the exact time I fall asleep.

It felt like a blink. Awhisper. A few lines of poem keep running in my head. It’s like when you keepon pressing a repeat button on Youtube video until you get bored by the samesong you keep repeating. But if we’re lucky enough then the sound that keeps onechoing inside your head might just disappear one day. But this one don’t. Iactually seen this poem from somewhere and I don’t remember where. I can’t helpit. Sometimes everything catching with my brain terribly fast. I keep reflexingbut I can’t control it.

                My suit was a mess, probably because I’ve been lyingdown for quite some time. My right-hand side seems to folded a few times assome crease shows up. It does look a mess but I don’t really mind. I changed myapparel to a t-shirt with a picture of a bird. Not my best style but at leastit will do.

                I walked down the hallway to the living room wherethe whole event of meeting and greeting event is taking place. It seems likeeveryone has left. Only my family. They been tidying up the whole place. Ihelped them cleaning the living room. The biscuits had runs out. Same goes tothe tea. But Rose ordered some pizza for dinner.

I noticedthere were some spilled water on the wall. So, I thought I should grab a napkinto wipe it out and that was the moment I realized there is a story written onthe wall.

It is like when you’reangry and throw something on the wall. The mark on the wall tells the story ofyour angriness. The pattern of the wall is strange as it looks like it has beenre-paint a few times. The thickness of the of a wall are not supposed to bethis thick. Perhaps grandmother always paint on the wall as well.

Maybe she runs out ofcanvas. Or a paper. The whole reckoning reason I can deduce that she is in painas the wall is being painted. Something that she’s been hiding is on the wallbut she covered it with another layer of paint.

Do you knowwhy she’s the best? It is because she had this one particular face. A face ofhappiness. But somehow the pattern seems befuddled as I noticed the wall. Sheseems very happy on the front. The way she communicates, the way she moves, thebody language. The whole operation team inside her brain works with full ofwonder. It’s unbreakable. Bring the best cryptographer in the world, they wouldstill puzzle by her move. She’s like an enigma encoder with a forth rotaryencoder and repeatable alphabet. She can rule over the world faster than TheThird Reich because no one breaks her. Perhaps she is the Napoleon ofexpression. No one understands her. Makes her more valuable. 

But, she seems to havefailed on the backend side. The wall. The wall tells you everything. The rage,the anger, with a plus of sorrow and disconsolate. It can’t be read. It isunclear. She been holding onto something.

“Damn it!” I whispered tomyself.

I thought I knew her allaround this time. During her sickness, I was there with her all the time. Ithought everything is going to be okay. Instead no one understood her. Somepieces that are joined together are just enough to break the ice but it won’tdo the whole story.

And the bells ringing.

We thought it was pizza.So, Rose went ahead and open the door.

“Apparently, grandma leftsomething for us!” Rose shouted.

As she walked through thedoor frame on the living room. She looks excited and fascinated by the man whorang the death bell. But then again, the pizza hasn’t arrived yet. And I don’tlike where is this going.

A man wearinga suit with a briefcase that looks like one of the weapons from James Bond’classic movies. Like a gun briefcase. Interesting. But that is not whathappening right now.

“Mr. Krueger.” A voice. Myfather.

“Pleased to finally meetyou.”

It seems like fatheralready expecting to see him. They probably talked on the phone before. It’sthe lawyer.

“Mr. and Mrs. Williams.”The suit man with a briefcase. Mr. Krueger apparently.

“As we all anticipated, thelost of our beloved, Kate-Rosemary Williams is a very unpleasant news. I amvery sorry for her lost. Therefore, as you all see right now. I’m here on herbehalf. She has something to tell you all.”

“Why don’t you have a seat,Mr. Krueger?” said mom. As she pat on the sofa.

“Sure.” He replied. He tookthe briefcase on his side and place it on the coffee table.

“I’ll get a cuppa. Thekettle just boiled” Rose continued.

                This is cold chilling atmosphere. The one feeling youdon’t feel every day in your whole pathetic life. It feels like starlesssurrounding. Gloomy. They were talking behind me yet I can’t hear anything. Igot distracted by nothing.

As Rose get a cup of tea,Mr. Krueger open his briefcase.

“It’s temperamental anddisheartening at the same time. I understand how everyone is feeling.” Said Mr.Krueger.

Took him a while to look atthe whole briefcase. Perhaps many people died today. I wonder if he would haveto visit any other family after this.

Nah, Look at the suit. Itspristine. That means he never leave his office today. Been sitting on the tableand writing in hurry based on the line mark on his forearm, edge of a desk.Pressure on. There’s a thin line of ink on his wrist. Powder based printed. Hebeen printing a ton of documents.  Hecan’t just have a mark like that if he had gone to people houses for the wholeday.

Rose came back with a cupof tea. Everyone sits

“As now, I’m going to reada letter written by Kate-Rosemary Williams on date 19th September 2016.”

At this point, everything moves slow. Every second felt like an hour. Sounds over reacting and over exaggerating.

Kate-Rosemary Williams

140 Bye Mead, EmersonsGreen,

Bristol BS16 7DQ,

United Kingdom.

My love, My dear, My life,

                        I’m sorry for now I’m gone. For my time hascome and so will you one day. Remember me in your prayer, may soon we will betogether. In heaven we meet, at a full stop we reach.

As you’re hearing or readingthis, I may have gone. Or maybe Mr. Krueger got robbed. But either way is fine.I hope you’re not in a horrendous figure as this being read to you. Grievingbrings nothing but sorrows and delicate.

My son. My possession is notsomething valuable that you can trade with people. Nor sell it for a higherprice. I own nothing but my love for you. You’re the best thing that everhappen to my life. After meeting your dad, obviously.

For you, I left everything Ihave. A possession of no such value as the cursed I left you with. Yourintelligent. It’s up to you now. Although, please take care of the iris for me.My favorite Irises. Violently slash into long strips, their violet petals onsword-like leaves.

Beautiful,enlightening, lovely grandchildren you have gave me. Underneath gaunt, thinpaper, rest a truth. Oh, Darling. I’m sorry for have not tell you.

There are a few things Ikept for quite a life time. It is one thing I don’t even know the quo status is.Father mine left something on foreign soil. Malaysia. It is very important foryou to not tell anyone about it. Some people came after me. It’s a treasurehunt and I’m the owner of the treasure. Keeping it hidden. A myth and a legend.

Illustrious. But I have toinform you, entirely anonymous. Seek for it if you hunger or left it there forthe better.

The curtain has rises. Theplay must go on. It’s not over. Family is all we have in the end.


Well then, away, I must.


It’s cold chilling night.The atmosphere is not great. It’s the recent event. The beast from the east.

I’m so pissed they didn’tname it as “Eurus’s rage” or at least something to do with that Greek god.

Eurus is the name of theGreek god, God of East wind. Basically, the things she would do is a blow of eastwind. I quote that from one of a movie I watch. This phenomenal truthfullyblock the view of my favorite star.

“Just the one.” Rose passme a cigarette.

I took it.

“You get what’s written inthe letter yes?“ She continued.

“The myth and the legend?”I replied as I burned the cigarette.

“It’s grandmother. She liketo play games with us.”

“Remember the Easter hunt?”Rose responded as she took another sip of the cigarette.

“The curtain rises.” Imuttered.

“It’s for you.” Rosecontinued.

“Yes. Gibberish. Classiccryptography. Setting designed by Paul Krueger.” I replied with confident.

                Kate, our grandmother. She likes to play game andpuzzle. Once she did a map for an Easter egg hunt. Except it wasn’t really anegg hunt. It was at the old church down the road. She paid someone to setupeverything exactly as planned.

I was very fascinated bythe structure of the old building. Full of culture. And the hunt was a mathproblem. It’s from one of the famous debate. The Grandi’s series and Thomson’slamp problem. We couldn’t solve it. Rose so pissed that she got her answerwrong.

The fact that she wrote herletter in gibberish is not surprising. She always does that anyway. Gibberishis a classic cryptography method. Game language. Used during World War Two bythe German.

But their gibberish is muchmore complicated. They use enigma machine to cipher and decipher the code witha correct setting. Unfortunately, 1941, Alan Turing and this team broke thecode thus shorten the war and save millions life. Probably if he didn’t breakthe code the whole Europe could be The Third Reich. They hit Poland like aspeed bump.

Anyway, I will explain thecode.

She needed to preciselychoose a word that synchronize with the gibberish letter. She used the one thatis designed by a guy name Paul Krueger since it’s impossible to simply use anutterly nonsense gibberish setting. Good thing that she picked a lawyer namedafter the designer. Making it much easier for me to decode it.

Notice the pattern of theletter she wrote. All the paragraph sounds pretty straightforward. Until,


“Beautiful, enlightening, lovely, grandchildren you have gave me.Underneath gaunt, thin paper rest a truth. Oh Darling, I’m sorry for have nottell you.”


This part sounds tricky yethoneyed. It feels romantic but that’s the trick. Notice that there were toomany commas. 3 sentences 5 commas. I deduce the full stop is to separate thegibberish letter. Commas determine the gibberish letters. Delete all the wordafter the commas but not behind commas. Now segregate them. You’ll get,

“Beautiful, enlightening, lovely,. Underneath gaunt,. Oh darling.”

Now. The whole sentencedoesn’t make any sense. The puzzle is halfway solved. Take all the first letterfrom all the word available. The full stops work as a space. You will get,


Still. It doesn’t make anysense. But if one understands the mathematic of probability then you candecipher it yourself. But it would take years of solving it without a correctsetting. So, using Paul Krueger’ settings, you can decipher it without problem.You can search it online though if you want it. But I will straight away translateit for you. It’s,



It’s for me.

All the paragraph after the code was meant for me. Not my father.

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