Sebastian could have ordered a tea inside the hotel, but he was in a hurry pretending to go to a cinema before the hotel receptionist girl. Now he direly needed a cup of tea. He had crossed several footpath tea stalls on his way. He said to himself: So be it. The next tea stall will be my halt. But whatever you search in life never comes so easily. For a couple of kilometers he could not find any tea stall on his way. Now he regretted why he left behind all those tea stalls. Thankfully after a furlong he found a round bellied old man was selling tea. No one was there except him. Sebastian went to the stall and sat on a plastic chair. As he sat down on it the chair made a creaking sound. He was not an addict of tea. But he liked sipping tea while reading newspapers. After finishing his tea he turned to the English newspaper available in that stall. It had become ritualistic for him to read newspaper while sipping a cup of tea. But today it was interrupted because of Papa. He scolded Papa. Next moment he restrained himself. For he knew Papa was also bound by his duty. Getting the newspaper he spread it and read thoroughly to his heart's content – one story after another – covering each sentence and ordering another cup of tea in order to please the stall owner. Then he saw there was something in the classifieds. He read each classified too. He knew he was not going to buy the "Trim and Slim XYZ Belts", nor he was going to participate in some eponymous tender for a pond in the city by fishery department. He was just interested in things in which other people were so much invested. Sometimes he even empathetically imagined himself grown his belly and becoming a fat man – then he would have keenly looked into the Slim Trim Belt. He used to think this way and derive pleasure from it. Then he would imagine if he were an unemployed young man and had promised a girl of this society to marry, then he would be worrying to win the pond in the tender and would be worrying to get financial support from his friends and friends of friends. Anyone would think that it was just a childish way of fancying and wasting time. Well in that case people interested in money, girls, cars, assets, salvation, prestige seemed to him meaningless enough. He valued love. He understood other people's love. He was a romantic in his heart. Thinking of romance he was now reading the matrimonial citing, then something happened.
He was stunned. Rather he was thrilled. This had happened again. He had observed this type of message two years back. Now under the matrimonial columns was written a small line. One sentence that attracted his attention. It was written in normal font letter: Quick quack quick quack ehty obg nissim.
He got that the first two words were just codes to grasp the attention of the destined reader or the recipient. So they hold no other meaning. It was just like saying "Hi!" He knew that reading is a guessing game and most of the times his guesses hit the point while deciphering codes. But the last three words were the real problem. He could not understand what language it is! He had been following such quick quack messages for years, but to no avail. Which language? Which place related language: he thought. He could not make out. He remembered that he had collected the message by keeping the paper cuttings' photos in a word file in his mobile phone. In leisure times he had tried many-a-times to solve the messages. But no. These quick quack messages seemed impenetrable to him.
He returned the newspaper to the tea stall owner and took the second cup of tea and with his left hand got his mobile phone out from his pocket and gave his left hand thumb finger print and the mobile phone opened. He went the concerned word file. And took the photo of today's quick quack message asking the tea stall owner to hold the newspaper against his mobile phone camera. Saved it and browsed through the last message: Quick quack quick quack Lupreuil.
He thought: What can be the meaning of "Lupreuil?" He pondered while paying for his tea and walking on the footpath. He had pondered over it several times. He had arranged it in different ways – various manners. But nothing makes sense. Once he had arranged inversely: l-u-p-r-e-u-i-l. Liuerpul. It made sense. Liuerpul: a small city in the east coast of Anglesland, in the state of Nenses. A business center situated at the bank of Saints river. This city has a strong Spanish influence. Now this made sense. Then he thought: Why someone will send the name of a city? What are these messages used for? Drugs? Smuggling? Thievery? Or what?
He had been to Liuerpul on several occasions. It is a sprawling city. He again thought: How can the sender and recipient of the message know the exact location of their rendezvous point. May be they are both well organized. They may know the exact location of their rendezvous point? They may have different other meeting places. They may have their offices or secret bases for meetings – for communication.
While walking on the footpath he was thinking about the quick quack messages. His brain told him to leave for his destination unnoticed by anyone; and start his mission there. But his heart was on the quick quack puzzle. Who knows what I will get when I solve the puzzle: he thought. The next moment he said to himself: I know perhaps this is all too much willing suspension of disbelief.