The Cliff

The Cliff

Jerry Hudson got down from the train tugging his suitcase after him. His point and shoot dangling from his left shoulder. He looked right and left and discovered himself to be the only one at the station. The train whistled and rolled out of the platform. Hudson glanced at his watch. Five forty in the morning; too early for the hubbub. Picking up his case he started walking down the station in the hope of getting some direction. It was a small station in a small town called Tinesville. It hardly occupied a dot on a map but his production manager wanted some scenic beauty that was easily available and cheap.

At the entrance of the station Hudson found himself looking at an open field with no bounds and green with grass. He breathed in deeply filling his lungs with the sweet fragrance of lilies. The sun was gradually rising in the eastern sky. In the west the stars were slowly fading away. Trees lined the road that led away from the station and birds chirped merrily on their branches. Hudson, re-energized by the beauty of a spring morning, came out of the station in search of some transportation.

Hudson hurried just as a cab pulled in and tapped on the glass.

“Hey,” he asked. “Larisa Hotel?”

The driver raised a brow but opened the door for him.

“Tip me with a tea,” he said as he turned the key in the ignition.

“I’d have tipped you with breakfast if I could afford it,” Hudson smiled shutting the door after him. “But my boss doesn’t pay me much.

So we’ll have to do with tea.”

The driver backed-up and turned his cab for the Larisa Hotel.

Hudson relaxed and enjoyed as the morning leisurely unfolded in front of him.

The narrow road had far stretched fields on both sides. Most of them were used for flower cultivation. The right hand side of the road was red and yellow with tulips. On his left it was golden with sunflowers and daffodils. The trees that bordered the road were bowing down with white and purple lilac.

Hudson rolled down the glass and let the cool wind wash over him. He couldn’t remember when he had last felt so refreshed.

As the road went by he could see narrow lanes branching off the main road and houses here and there. People came and went by their daily chores. A little girl with two braids skipped and hopped in front of her house. A little boy chased after his chicken that kept eluding him every time. Hudson quickly took out his camera and clicked. He smiled at the shot. A man, on his bicycle crossed the road. There was a bunch of newspaper on the carrier. A whistle sounded somewhere. The jute mill was opening for its morning shift. There was no hurry in them. As a part of nature they took things as they came.

“This is very relaxing,” Hudson said putting his hands behind his head. “Doesn’t anything exciting happen here?”

“It happened once.” The driver answered. “Oh a lady fell off the cliff and died. She had her skull cracked open.”

“When?”

“Sometime during late 1800s.”

The driver shrugged and Hudson fell silent.

After a quick shower and breakfast Hudson, accompanied by his camera, left the hotel in search of location for his commercial.
For a long time he walked aimlessly. The calm and quiet of Tinesville, the freshness of the air erased his fatigue. He was looking for some direction when a female voice spoke.

“Good morning.”

Hudson startled and looked around for the source of the voice.

“Don’t be scared,” she said and a lady came out from behind a tree. It was in full blossom with pink lilacs. Hudson smiled in relief.

“Oh,” he said and bowed. “Good morning.”

The lady smiled and came forward. She was young, hardly in her thirties, fair and tall. She had a round face with deep set eyes and
irises as dark as the night itself. A disturbing mark across her forehead marred her look. She wore a dress, a long flowing gown in light pink and gold.

“Are you lost?” the lady asked. “Are you looking for someone?”

“Locations,” Hudson said and then quickly added. “Yes, I’m new here. Came this morning. I’m Jerry Hudson, by the way.”

“I am Victoria Mills,” the lady said and curtsied. Both her dress and manners struck odd to Hudson but he shrugged it off mentally.

“I’m location scouting. I mean looking for some specific kind of place for shooting. I heard there is a cliff somewhere around here. Could you point me to it?”

“I can take you there,” she said and gestured him to follow her.

She walked ahead, speaking of the town and showing him around. Hudson walked behind her, listening.

Finally when they had reached the cliff, Hudson stood spellbound. It was exactly what his boss wanted. The road ended into an open field. The field was drawn-out till the edge of the cliff. The precipice bore a single tree that overhang the edge. The sky looked huge stretching from horizon to horizon. Its bright blue was merely broken by the white fluffy clouds.

Victoria walked till the edge and stood looking over it. Her golden locks floated in the wind. Trying hard Hudson couldn’t resist his desire.

“Miss,” he called. “Would you mind if I take a picture of you?”

Victoria looked puzzled but nodded her consent. Raising the camera to his eye Hudson looked through the viewfinder. The tree against the wide sky came into view.

“Could you please move in front of the tree,” Hudson said. “You are presently out of my frame.”

Victoria moved. Still he couldn’t get her. He put the camera down. She was standing exactly in front of the tree. Hudson put his eye in the viewfinder time and again but found the tree standing alone without any Victoria in sight.