The Mysterious Case Of The Goddess Jeans - Part II

“Now tell me what’s bothering you. I am the only one who’s - what?” says V____ settling back in the plush seats of the corner café. It is a cubicle with just the right kind of privacy without being too cosy. He has largely regained his sang-froid (at least that’s what he thinks). He pulls his phone out of his pocket and holding it under the table, shoots off a quick text to his boss.

        “Will walk in late today. On the trail of something HOT.” Fire emoji. Dog emoji.

“No issues. Take the morning off. Want good story at EOD.” M____’s reply is almost instantaneous.

“Thank god there are no shiny surfaces here!” he thinks, pocketing his phone. He looks at S___ taking a sip from her steaming cup.

“So, you can only see them as reflections, off the glass or polished surfaces, right?” she says.

“W-What…? H-How do you know that?!” he gasps.

“I just know. Don’t ask me how I know! One of the perks of power, I suppose.” She is staring at him again, her eyes boring into his as if she can see right through his brain into the utmost recesses of his skull.

“How do you mean – perks of power?”

“Well, it all has to do with my jeans. The ones I have on now.” She looks down at her legs with a lugubrious expression that is almost comical.

“Wait, what? Come again? Jeans???” He has a distinct feeling of being trapped in a G. G. Marquez novel. Wings. Power. A pair of perfectly ordinary jeans. Yes. He stifles an urge to laugh.

“I know! I know it sounds crazy and I still can’t believe it myself. I am a Physics teacher for chrissakes! None of this makes sense to me… !!” she bursts out suddenly, setting her cup down on the saucer with a clatter, splashing half the contents on the table. A few heads turn in their direction.

“Ok! Ok! Calm down! Tell me everything from the beginning!” V___ looks around quickly. He snatches up a paper napkin from the holder and starts mopping up the mess on the table.

“Allow me, Sir!” the waiter comes up to their table and adroitly completes the task. He fills their glasses with water.

“Would you care for a bite to eat?” V___ asks. “I am starving.”

She nods her consent, and he orders a couple of sandwiches.

“Ok. All right!” she sucks in a deep breath and continues. “Here goes. It all starts when I go online to shop for a pair of new jeans a couple of months ago. My old ones are tattered. As you can see, I’m not one to spend a lot on clothes and shoes and stuff. My job pays well but not enough for any extravagance. I live here, but my parents are back in the small town where I’ve been raised, and I send home a part of my earnings every month.” She pushes back a lock of her hair from her forehead with her slim fingers. “So, here I am, searching for good bargains within my budget when I come across this website www.powerjeans.com. It sells only women’s apparel. Here, see for yourself.”

She takes her phone out of her pocket, pulls up the home page of the website and hands it to him. The landing page that says “Unleash the Goddess in You! Reach For the Stars on the Wings of Your Power!” appears initially; then the screen hangs for a couple of seconds and finally throws a ‘404 Page Not Found error.

He looks at her intently. “Yeah, I know. That’s what it says when I try from my phone. Now look it up on yours,” she says and waits for him to type in the URL on his phone browser.

“What the hell… !!” He holds it up for her to see: a perfectly operational website showing a full range of women’s jeans in all cuts and sizes with the latest trending accessories. No errors.

“I know. I think they have saved my number in a blocked list or something. Or perhaps they are using supercookies or pixel tags to track me! I don’t know. All I know is that as far as I am concerned, they’ve vanished. Kaput.”

“Have you called their customer care? This number here on top?”

“Of course, I have! I keep getting an ‘invalid number’ error.”

“Lemme try from mine.” V____ is dialling already. “It’s ringing… here, talk to them…” he passes his phone to her.

She holds the phone to her ear. After a couple of rings, a cool feminine voice answers, “Power Jeans Customer Care. How may I help you?”

“Hi, this is S____ C____. I recently bought a pair of Power Jeans online, around the second week of July. I would like to report a complaint…” she stops abruptly and looks at V_____. “She hung up on me!”

She re-dials and passes the phone to V____. “The number you have dialled is invalid. Please check the number and try again.”

“Shocker!” she retorts drily.

She continues after a pause, “Anyways, the prices are reasonable, so I go ahead and order a pair of Power jeans. In a week’s time they arrive. I try them on and they’re perfect. The diamond stud is a bit over-the-top, but I think, so what? I find myself wearing them all the time, day in and day out – at work, when I go shopping for groceries, out with friends. Even at home, I don’t want to take them off except perhaps in the shower. They feel so good, and I feel so light in them; I feel as if I am really flying. My students are electrified in my classes. My fellow teachers and Principal are amazed at my energy and enthusiasm. I feel I can do anything, teach any subject, be anyone!”

“I feel like a…” she trails off.

“A Goddess?” He asks.

“YES!” her oval face lights up. “And this goes on for about a month.”

“And then the nightmare begins.” She takes a gulp of water and looks at V____. Her eyes are like wells filled with unknown terror. Her lips tremble slightly.

“About three weeks ago, August 25th to be exact, I woke up in the middle of the night with a jolt. And not just an ordinary jolt. It seems an unknown force literally pushes me off my bed and onto the floor. It takes me some time to untangle myself from the bedclothes and get back into bed. The clock on my nightstand says 3:00 AM. Right at that moment, my cell phone beeps. It is a text from an unknown number. It simply states an address. The place is two blocks away from my apartment. Wrong number, I think, and prepare to go back to sleep.”

She pauses here, her face still as death.

“And…?” V___ prompts gently, barely breathing. The sandwiches served by the waiter remain untouched.

“What happens next can only be seen in horror movies. Everything happens so fast… it is all a blur to me now. All I remember is that like a woman possessed, I am getting dressed, pulling on these jeans, grabbing my door keys, slamming the front door shut, and rushing out into the night. It is as if some uncontrollable force is driving me, and I am completely in its power. Next, I am dashing through the deserted streets, past rows of sleeping houses, beneath ghostly streetlights that are whispering to me, guiding me. ‘A little farther down.’ ‘Right turn there.’ ‘Turn left here and then straight.’

“Suddenly I find myself in front of a three-storied house, and somehow, I know I have reached my destination. It is the house at the corner of R____ Street and T____ Avenue and the exact address in the text message. I hear an ear-splitting scream from the second-floor bedroom window just above the front door followed by a guttural voice growling unintelligible profanities. I know something terrible is happening in there and I must stop it. I pound on the door with my fist and the screaming stops. No one answers the door, so I take a few steps back, rush forward and throw myself at it. I know it’s crazy, isn’t it? But as I said a demoniac strength is possessing my body. Now I know it is coming from these jeans. The door collapses inwards, and I fall in, losing my balance. Then picking myself up I literally fly up the stairs and burst into the unlocked door of the room where the terrible thing is happening. I see a half-naked woman, in a torn silk négligée, covered in blood and bruises, cowering on the carpeted floor beside the bed. A huge gorilla of a man is towering over her with a cat o’ nine tails in his right hand.”

S____ pauses and covers her face with her hands. He gives her time to recover. A few minutes later she removes her hands from her face. It is drained of all blood.

“The next thing I remember,” she whispers, “is a strange beating sound like the spreading of a huge pair of wings. The man whirls around to face me, raises the hand holding his cat, and freezes. I realize that I am hovering several feet in the air above them. Suddenly I feel a tremendous heat emanating from somewhere near my navel and looking down I see the fake diamond stud emitting a concentrated laser-like beam. My whole body seems to be blazing like a furnace, and flames are shooting from every feather in my wings, every strand of my hair, and even my fingertips. A voice in my head tells me to direct the laser beam at the man and I do so. His body bursts into flames. Screaming horribly, he runs around the room helter-skelter, trying in vain to put out the fire, and then collapses on top of the woman on the floor. She bursts into flames too. In a few minutes, nothing remains of them except two charred skeletons.

“I don’t remember what happens next and how I get home. Somehow, I do. In the morning, I find myself collapsed on the floor of my own apartment, with a nasty burn on my right upper arm. My shirt is covered in soot with holes burnt through here and there. But these jeans…” she shudders and pauses. “They are as spotless as on the first day I put them on. I don’t know how that is possible.”

“Wait a minute, the address you mention, and the date, August 25th - now I remember!” V____ breaks in excitedly, “isn’t this the gruesome accident that has been all over the news for the last few weeks? No one knows anything. The police haven’t a clue, nor do the neighbours, although some of them think the husband has gone too far this time. But no one can explain why the rest of the room and the furniture are untouched by the fire. Apart from the front door broken in, there is no other evidence of home intrusion. Nothing is missing. No fingerprints, no DNA. Nothing. Clean as a whistle.”

She nods.

“Oh MY GOD… that is you???” His jaw drops and he stares at her aghast.

She nods again, her face haggard.

“And… and… the next one too. The 6th of September, time around 4:30 AM, as far as I can remember. The address - 29A, J________ Park. A pre-teen boy was abused by his father; both were incinerated. By ME,” she whispers. “I can’t control these powers. I can’t save the innocent. Why? Why have I been given these powers if I can’t help the victims? WHY?!!? I haven’t chosen any of these!! Then why ME? I am a killer, a... a… monster!”

“Maybe, whatever this is, it has chosen you.”

Slowly she rolls up both sleeves of her shirt. Two angry welts, one on her right upper arm and the other on her left forearm, stare up at him.

“I don’t know… are you sure telling me all this is a good idea?” V___ says, after a while.

“I have to tell you.”

“Why?”

“Because you are the only person alive,” she whispers, “who has seen my wings.”

Continued…