THE LAST STORY

CHAPTER 1: THE DREAMER

“Katy walked away with the green roses dangling indignantly. Danny stopped two blocks away. He stood still with his hands in his pockets, at the curb on the corner. His face was that of a graven image. Deep in his soul something stirred so small, so fine, so keen and leavening that his hard fibres did not recognize it. It was something more tender than the April day, more subtle than the call of the senses, purer and deeper-rooted than the love of woman—for had he not turned away from green roses and eyes that had kept him chained for a year.…..” Daniel could not get his eyes off the book. He was an ardent fan of O.Henry and lapped up every story of his as soon as he got his hands on one. He was reading this one with intense concentration and interest when there was a knock on the door. His mother was calling him downstairs for dinner but who cared for dinner when you had an O.Henry book in your hand.

After minutes of yelling on the part of his mother, he finally put the book down and got up in a reluctant manner. His room was dimly lit, as it always was. A bed and a wooden pair of a table and a chair was all that could be found in his room except for books. Books. That was all he possessed and cared about. His whole world was confined to books and stories. He liked them because they let his imagination fly, provided a departure from his mundane life. One minute he could be strolling down the smoky streets of London and the next he could be sailing in the pacific half a world away. He smelled the roses, flied with the birds and tasted all the delicacies of the world. Stories provided flight to his imagination, his creativity and were his only friend. They made him laugh, made him sob and made him wonder at the lives of the protagonists.

He was just standing, staring out of the window of his room. The cool breeze made the tree leaves dance to their tunes and his heart danced with them. Unconsciously, he drifted into his dream world, a world where he wrote his own stories and people loved him for that. He was famous, women doted on him and men envied him. It was the utter excitement of such a life that attracted him. He was floating in his dreams, travelling continents and enchanting people with his stories. He was the O.Henry of his dreams. “Daniel, come down immediately.” this time it was his father. He quickly turned the lights off and ran downstairs.

CHAPTER 2: WHEN THE DREAM COMES TRUE

Four years passed. It was 1890. Daniel was twenty three now. He was standing outside the hall. It was quite cold in the snow but his feet and palms were sweating. His heart was throbbing in his chest. The moment was coming close. It was one of the rare occasions when O.Henry made a public appearance. He had spent his month’s allowance, lied to his mother and travelled two days, to get to New York. He was lost in his thoughts when O.Henry came out. He ran towards his idol. Henry was quickly walking down the street with some gentlemen, talking to them. “Hello Sir. I am Daniel. Daniel O’Connor.” he said but Henry wasn’t listening, He followed him, hoping he would listen to him. Henry walked fast and Daniel was almost running, trying to keep up with him.

Henry turned a corner and Daniel followed him. The men with Henry were now looking back at him suspiciously. After a while, they stopped. The men dispersed and Henry motioned to Daniel to come to him. Daniel adjusted his hat, wiped his face with his palm and cleaned it with the back of his coat. He was face to face with his O.Henry, the man who had had such a large impact on his soul and was going to have a huge impact on his life. This was the moment he had been waiting for so long. He had pictured this in his dreams but it had never been like this. Here he was sharing the same air, the same sounds and the same sights with his idol. He was unbelievably excited and terribly nervous. He took his hat off and bowed as a sign of respect. Henry extended his hand and Daniel shook it. “Good Day Sir. I am Daniel O’Connor.” he said. “Good Day young man. I am O.Henry.” Henry replied. He had so much to say to him but now Daniel was searching for words. People probably feel the same way when they confess love, he thought to himself. “I am a huge admirer of yours. I have read each and every story you have written to date. I think you are the best writer ever.” he finally managed and quickly went over it in his mind to check if he had said it all right. “Well, thank you for the appreciation. I do manage to write a few of them. I am pleased to find that people find them worth reading.” Henry replied. “Well, I would be really thankful if you can sign this for me.” Daniel said holding out a book. O.Henry signed it. Daniel was much more relaxed now, ”I want to be a writer too. Just like you. I hope I can write something decent enough to be published.” he said. “Well, just follow your heart, do not give up and you shall succeed,” O.Henry said and looked at his watch, “Well, I would better get going now. May you succeed in your endeavors. Good Bye then.” he said and walked away.

Daniel came back home. He went over that episode many times in his mind. That five minute meeting occupied his mind for the better part of the day. That encounter with O.Henry had lifted his spirits. His words of encouragement rang in Daniel’s ears. Smile never left his face and the sights and sounds of nature delighted him. He sat in the chair in his room and thought it over. He had always wanted to be a professional writer. May be now was the time to start writing. His parents didn’t approve of it but then he had always known that they won’t. His father wanted Daniel to work with him at his wood carving business but Daniel couldn’t be less interested. He thought it over a million times, took out his pen and a paper and started writing.

CHAPTER 3: THE RISE

Daniel was never into girls. He just saw them as pretty creatures of nature about whom he can write a lot but can never fall in love with one. The truth was that he was not much into people in general. He was a loner who liked to write or read stories. He viewed his surroundings as a distant observer, took in the details and wrote about them. For him, this level of detachment from the world was necessary for him to write. It provided him with the space he needed to think and preserve the sights and sounds so that he could successfully reproduce them on paper.

Daniel was twenty five now. He had written four stories but none of them had been published. His mother was pressurizing him to marry and settle down but for him the adventure was just starting, He was desperately trying to get at least one of his stories published and a girl would only be a nuisance he would have to deal with. He made daily rounds of the publishing houses in hope that one of them would agree to publish his stories. He had no money whatsoever and his father was also growing reluctant to help him at this age. According to him, Daniel should have been working and supporting a family by now.

Daniel kept trying and trying. After eight months of struggle, he too was getting tired of it. One such day, he came back from the town, exhausted. He went to his room and sat down on the chair. He saw a letter sit on his desk, posted to him. He opened it and when he read it, he could not believe his eyes. Inside was a conformation from a local publishing house that they were going to publish his stories the coming month. That meeting with O’Henry from two years ago played out in his mind and he remembered the words of his idol. “Follow your heart” he had said. Daniel had followed his heart and found his way. His joy was unbounded. He lied down on his bed and shouted at the top of his voice to let the world know of his accomplishment.

His stories did get published and did decent business. He got paid his part and for the first time in his life, felt complete. Right about that time, another of O.Henry’s books came out. He bought it with his first earnings and read it in one night.

He had struck a deal with the same publisher now and started to write another book. He took his time when it came to writing. He read about the place and the environment he was going to write about, thought over the story many times in his mind and then only did he start writing. He sketched each and every character clearly in his mind, gave himself ample time to develop each one of them and then only did he pen them down. This long process obviously took him much time, sometimes months and this time he married on the insistence of his mother. His wife, Jessica, was the daughter of one his father’s friends. It was the beginning of a new episode in his life, as some would say, but he knew that episode had already begun when his first stories got published. This, was just another custom he had to follow for his parents and the society.

Another set of his stories got published and they started selling as soon as they got to the book stores. He was becoming successful and ever more engrossed in his writing. He bought a house in one of the more elite areas of Chicago. Now he was a professional writer and the next step for him was to move towards greatness, he thought to himself. He wanted to be remembered like O.Henry would be. For that, he had to write more and he had to write better. He knew it better than anybody else that his journey had just started.

CHAPTER 4: WHEN REALITY STRIKES

In the winter of 1895, a son was born to Daniel. He maintained writing as his sole profession and his first love. As was his habit, his readers had to wait a long time before each of his books. He still took his own time when it came to writing but the publishers didn’t seem to mind as his books were sold-out within days.

Years passed and his son now started going to school. It was the life he had always hoped for and now he was living it. One day, when he was in his room, reading a book, Jessica came to him. Even after years of marriage, he still remained a mystery to her. He was not very affectionate and never discussed a problem with her. So, she did feel a little apprehensive going to him, but now she just had to talk to him. Daniel was lost in his reading and took sometime noticing her presence. She told Daniel that they had been running a little short on funds lately. The news came as a shocker to Daniel who never gave any thought to money. He found it hard to believe. After all, he was a pretty successful writer now. But as it turned out, this success wasn’t enough. Jessica explained to him that their needs were growing as their son had started to go to school and they were still paying off for the house they lived in. At their current levels of earning, it would become hard for them to get by. She implored Daniel to take up some side profession just to make some extra money but Daniel knew well enough that he needed all the time he can get to write and besides, this was the only thing he was skilled at.

After she had left, Daniel stood near the window of his room that looked straight down the main street and searched for answers. For the first time in his life, Daniel realized that his readership wasn’t really big and that the publishing house he had a deal with didn’t pay him well enough. For the first time he had to equate his love for writing with money. It broke his heart but there was nothing else he could do. He could not move to a larger publishing house as he had a deal with this one. So, the only way he had left was this. He had to write more, get more books published in less time. He closed the window, sat down and gave out a sigh.

CHAPTER 5: LOST

Daniel started writing more but found it hard to do so. He had always needed time in writing but now time was one thing he did not have. He had to get money and get it quick. He knew that if he started writing hastily, the quality of his work will go down. He had to compromise his soul but there was no way out. Their expenses were growing and now he was considering moving to a smaller house. He talked it out with Jessica and they agreed to do it. The pressure on Daniel was growing. He had stopped reading altogether and wrote whatever came to his mind. He didn’t have time for extensive study on his characters now. The sales of his books started going down gradually. He quickly finished off another book and got it published. The sale of this one did not compare to even his previous sales. He knew the reason why.

On days, Daniel felt as if his soul had been taken away from him. All that was left of him now was a shell capable of laboring day and night for the sake of money. He felt the artist within him die a slow death. He had never looked at writing as a profession, had never worried about money but now with a family to support and ever growing expenses, he wrote for money.

Daniel considered going to larger publishing houses. On one such trip, he went to New York to meet Michael, the owner of a publishing house. Michael told him that he had heard about his work, even read two of his books and that he appreciated his talent. Daniel saw a ray of hope here. A deal with this publishing house would land him in prosperity, taking away all his woes. They talked about writers in general, how a new crop of writers had come up in recent times and what the turn of the century had in store for them. Daniel, then, came up with his proposal. Michael heard him with unfading attention. Daniel felt the heart throbbing in his chest, just like he had felt it when he was about to meet O.Henry. After Daniel was done, Michael told him he would be pleased to sign a deal with him and that it would be a pleasure to publish his books but he already had a deal with some one else at the moment and so could not publish Daniel’s work. Daniel felt his heart beat quicken. He had all his hopes pinned on this one and rejection here meant that he would almost go broke. He persuaded Michael but to no avail. Michael said he wont be able to help him at this moment of time. Daniel felt the earth slip beneath his feet. He had no where to go. It would take him time to write another set of stories and he didn’t have enough money to support his family through that time. Daniel stood up to go but something inside him pushed him to ask the name of the writer who had virtually put him out of business, who had ended his last hopes. Michael looked at him and said it was Mr. Porter also known to his fans under the pen name of O.Henry. Daniel came out of his office, stood outside on the pavement and laughed, as tears rolled down his cheeks. How ironical it was that the man who had been his idol, his inspiration was the same man who had just ended his life. Daniel felt his entire life rush before his eyes, that meeting with O.Henry, his first published stories, everything.

Daniel returned home the next day. He found a lock on the door of his house and a letter kept there. He opened and read the letter. It was from Jessica. She had left the house with his son to go and live with her father. Daniel was filled with rage and despair, anger and hopelessness, all at the same time. He opened the door, went inside and locked it.

Daniel stopped writing altogether. He worked at as a manual worker in a factory down town. The urge to write had died within him. All he wanted to do now was to write a last story. A last story just for himself and then he would never write again. And so he began. He would write his story in the nights after he came home from work. He had lost all hope of ever resurrecting himself as a writer again. He wrote this one out of despair, out of angst, out of agony. He thought to himself that how writing had been his greatest love, the sole purpose of his life and how he had lost everything. May be that was life, he thought. It promises you everything but the raw you deal you get in the end is never worth it.

Daniel was almost finishing his last story now. He had nothing else to write except for one thing. Yes. I have nothing more to write except that this was my last story. This was the sum of my life and I have written everything I wanted to. May be greatness is reserved for a chosen few and I am just one of the many who come and perish without as much as a whisper.Anyways, I, Daniel O’Connor, shall write no more…..