"Get out of this place."
Stunned, Jayus took a step back as he processed the tobacconist's words. When we didn't immediately waltz right back out the door like he wanted, he spared us another glance and sighed.
"You two obviously look like you don't belong here, so whatever else it is you need from my shop, I can't give it to you," said the tobacconist before he continued to delicately packaged the high quality tobacco on his counter. Two boxes lay before him. Both looking extremely extravagant and expensive. It looks like he was transferring a couple sticks before we entered his shop. From where I stood, I could vaguely read the name it was packaged for— had it been not for the lid that hid away the rest of the letters.
The tobacconist remained passive but Jayus was not about to give up that easily. He choked on a gasp, then he wondered why he felt offended someone would think he wasn't a smoker.
He wasn't.
Then he choked on another gasp. Perhaps on my behalf. He glanced at me. I choked on a gasp.
The tobacconist was not at all amused.
"What make you think we don't smoke? For all you know, I could be a smoking addict!" I leaned on the counter, one arm resting on it's glass counter as I squinted one eye at the tobacconist. We didn't smoke. At my big age, I still cough heinously at people who smoke pass me.
"That's all the more reason not to sell to you. These snuffs and grubs are a passion of mine. Look at this one, for example—" The tobacco enthusiast held up the thick stick he had so delicate transferred, "—The Lilac Soldier's Old Yearning, a set from Great Manic Horeseov from 1644XX. The snuff on this one is greatly inspired by a tale of a veteran soldier who battled through years of war in hopes of a day he may return home. On the day the troupes had finally seen a chance of victory, the soldier found a trap set by the enemy. Their base had been infiltrated and tampered with. The soldier tried to warn his troupe but without clear evidence, he was merely accused of treason and ambushing the troupe. Without a second thought, the soldier grabbed all the weapons that had been tampered, threw them away, and then locked the base so no one could enter. Seeing as how he refused to let down, his once comrades all banded together and punished him.
With him being so close to death, it was only then did their base exploded. The opposing team had planted a bomb. But by the time his comrades realized the truth in his words, it was too late. The soldier had already breathed his last breath. In his final moments, he worded death to be—
Sweet as melancholy,
Embraced by the warm rose-scented smell of my beloved,
And Rust as blood that linger on the ground.
Forever be as..."
The tobacconist paused for melancholic effect. He grieved a heavy sigh, a cold distant look glossed over in his eyes as if sorrow had wafted in the air and poisoned him as he choked a sob.
A fickle story. Who could possibly believe this? It was no more than an old tale told by old folks as pass time stories. I scratched my neck. I turned to Jayus. Already expecting that painfully sarcastic look on his face when I was caught off guard by the sorrowful teary eyed expression he wore instead.
He's.... he's tearing up!?
"See!? You get it, don't you! The endless yearning of the soldier as he waited for the day to be reunited with his one love...." The tobacconist said.
"....And yet, when he was finally about to reunite with his love, he doomed himself to save his comrades and sealed his fate of never returning to her!" Jayus finished before he let out a muffled cry. As the two men bawled their eyes out on this dreary, rustic scented counter, I couldn't help but feel appalled. My eyes stared fixatedly on Jayus. The man who had just smacked me at the back of my head this morning for putting on my right sock first before my left. It left a deep, heavy and penetrating wrath that began to well up inside my chest. Is he serious?
"In the end, the soldier never got to see his wife, and he never got to know his comrades praised him for his bravery when they found out the truth eventually," The tobacconist heaved a heavy sigh as he braced himself up on the counter. Big, rough hands holding on to the edge. Jayus nodded.
"Some things are realized far too late."
"Cheers to that!" One finger pointed up to the air, the tobacconist could only acknowledge Jayus's words with bitterness.
"Only those who have overcome great yearning can understand what the soldier has truly gone through, you've done so yourself too, haven't you, Mr. Tobacconist?" Jayus asked. It was a simple question. Yet one that held a deep understanding which could not be seen through the naked eye. The Tobacconist scoffed. A melancholic laugh escaping his lips as he relished in the leftover scent of the Lilac Soldier's Old Yearning. The scent of rust blood meshing in together with the faint lilac flowers told to have been how the soldier remembered his lover to have smelled.
And he answered, though somewhat solemn, "Indeed I have,"
"Then you won't mind helping us fulfill our yearning and answer a few of our questions about your recent customer, Lous Darwin, would you? It will only take a few seconds," Jayus asked. Desperation seeping through his words as he leaned over the counter with all seriousness.
For a moment, the tobacconist paused. That deep look in his eyes lingering for a moment before he turned to us, a cheeky smile on his face.
Looks like Jayus managed to convince him somehow, I thought, before suddenly seeing the bright light of the sun as we were suddnely kicked out of the shop right where we had come from.
"No." were the last words we heard from the tobacconist before he promptly shut the door on our behind.