Ta La La

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"There is a word, my son, a very little word, in the English language, the right use of which it is all-important that you should learn," said Mr. Howland to his son Thomas, who was about leaving the paternal roof for a residence in a distant city; never again, perchance, to make one of the little circle that had so long gathered in the family homestead. 

"What word is that, father?" asked Thomas. 

"It is the little word No, my son." 

"And why does so much importance attach to that word, father?" 

"Perhaps I can make you understand the reason much better if I relate an incident that occurred when I was a boy. I remember it as distinctly as if it had taken place but yesterday, although thirty years have since passed. There was a neighbour of my father's, who was very fond of gunning and fishing. On several occasions I had accompanied him, and liked it very much. One day my father said,-- 

"'William, I do not wish you to go into the woods or on the water again with Mr. Jones."

"'Why not, father?' I asked, for I had become so fond of going with him, that to be denied the pleasure was a real privation. 

"'I have good reasons for not wishing you to go, William,' my father replied, 'but do not want to give them now. I hope it is all-sufficient for you that your father desires you not to accompany Mr. Jones again.' 

"I could not understand why my father laid upon me this prohibition; and, as I desired much to go, I did not feel satisfied in my obedience. On the next day, as I was walking in the fields, I met Mr. Jones with his fishing-rod on his shoulder and his basket in hand. 

"'Ah, William! you are the very one that I wish to see,' said Mr. Jones, smiling. 'I am going out this morning, and want company. We shall have a beautiful day.'

"'But my father told me yesterday,' I replied, 'that he did not wish me to go out with you.' 

"'And why not, pray?' asked Mr. Jones. 

"'I am sure that I do not know,' I said; 'but, indeed, I should like to go very much.' 

"'Oh, never mind; come along,' he said. 'Your father will never know it.' 

"'Yes, but I am afraid that he will,' I replied, thinking more of my father's displeasure than of the evil of disobedience. 

"'There is no danger at all of that. We will be home again long before dinner-time.' 

"I hesitated, and he urged; and finally, I moved the way that he was going, and had proceeded a few hundred yards, when I stopped, and said,-- 

"'I don't like to go, Mr. Jones.' 

"'Nonsense, William! There is no harm in fishing, I am sure. I have often been out with your father myself.' 

"Much as I felt inclined to go, still I hesitated; for I could not fully make up my mind to disobey my father. At length he said,-- 

"'I can't wait here for you, William. Come along, or go back. Say Yes, or No.' 

"This was the decisive moment. I was to make up my mind, and fix my determination in one way or the other. I was to say Yes or No. 

"'Come, I can't stay here all day,' Mr. Jones remarked rather harshly, seeing that I hesitated. At the same moment, the image of my father rose distinctly before my mind, and I saw his eye fixed steadily and reprovingly upon me. With one desperate resolution, I uttered the word 'No!' and then turning, I ran away as fast as my feet would carry me. I cannot tell you how much relieved I felt when I was far beyond the reach of temptation. 

"On the next morning, when I came down to breakfast, I was startled and surprised to learn that Mr. Jones had been drowned on the day before. Instead of returning in a few hours, as he had stated to me that he would, he remained out all the day. A sudden storm arose; his boat was capsized, and he drowned. I shuddered when I heard this sad and fatal accident related. That little word NO had, in all probability, saved my life. 

"'I will now tell you, William,' my father said, turning to me, 'why I did not wish you to go with Mr. Jones. Of late, he had taken to drinking; and I had learned, within a few days, that whenever he went out on a fishing or gunning excursion, he took his bottle of spirits with him, and usually returned a good deal intoxicated. I could not trust you with such a man. I did not think it necessary to state this to you, for I was sure that I had only to express my wish that you would not accompany him, to insure your implicit obedience.' 

"I felt keenly rebuked at this; and resolved never again to permit even the thought of disobedience to find a place in my mind. From that time, I have felt the value of the word NO; and have generally, ever since, been able to use it on all right occasions. It has saved me from many troubles. Often and often in life have I been urged to do things that my judgment told me were wrong: on such occasions, I always remembered my first temptation, and resolutely said--'No!' 

"And now, my son," continued Mr. Howland, "do you understand the importance of the word No?" 

"I think I do, father," replied Thomas. "But is there not danger of my using it too often, and thus becoming selfish in all my feelings, and consequently unwilling to render benefits to others?" 

"Certainly there is, Thomas. The legitimate use of this word is to resist evil. To refuse to do a good action is wrong." 

"If any one asks me, then, to do him a favour or kindness, I should not, on any account, say no." 

"That will depend, Thomas, in what manner you are to render him a kindness. If you can do so without really injuring yourself or others, then it is a duty which you owe to all men, to be kind, and render favours. You know, also, the precept, 'Whatsoever ye would that men should do unto you, do ye so to them.'" 

"But the difficulty, I feel, will be for me to discriminate. When I am urged to do something by one whom I esteem, my regard for him, or my desire to render him a kindness, will be so strong as to obscure my judgment." 

"A consciousness of this weakness in your character, Thomas, should put you upon your guard." 

"That is very true, father. But I cannot help fearing for myself. Still, I shall never forget what you have said, and will try my best to act from a conviction of right." 

"Do so, my son. And ever remember that a wrong action is always followed by pain of mind, and too frequently by evil consequences. If you would avoid these, ever act from a consciousness that you are doing right, without regard to others. If another asks you, from a selfish desire to benefit or gratify himself, to do that which your judgment tells you is wrong, surely you should have no hesitation in refusing." 

The precept of his father, enforced when they were about parting, and at a time when his affections for that father were active and intense, lingered in the mind of Thomas Howland. He saw and felt its force, and resolved to act in obedience to it, if ever tempted to do wrong. 

On leaving the paternal roof, he went to a distant town, and entered the store of a merchant, where were several young men nearly of his own age--that is, between eighteen and twenty. With one of these, named Boyd, he soon formed an intimate acquaintance. But, unfortunately, the moral character of this young man was far from being pure, or his principles from resting upon the firm basis of truth and honour. 

Associated with him at the same desk day after day, his growing influence over Thomas Howland soon became apparent in inducing him to stay away from church on the Sabbath-day, and pass the time that had heretofore been spent in a place of worship in roaming about the wharves of the city, or in excursions into the country. This influence was slightly resisted; but Thomas felt ashamed or reluctant to use the word "No," on what seemed to all the young men around him a matter of so little importance. Still, his own heart condemned him, for he felt that it would pain his father and mother exceedingly if they knew that he neglected to attend church at least once on the Sabbath-day; and he was, besides, self-convicted of wrong in what seemed to him a violation of the command, "Remember the Sabbath-day," as he had been taught to regard that precept. But once having given way, he felt almost powerless to resist the influence that now bore upon him.

The next violation of what seemed to him a right course for a young man to pursue, was in suffering himself to be persuaded to visit frequently the theatre; although his father had expressly desired that he would avoid a place where lurked, for the young and inexperienced, so many dangers. He was next easily persuaded to visit a favourite eating-house, in which many hours were spent during the evenings of each week, with Boyd and others, in eating, drinking, and smoking. Sometimes dominoes and back-gammon were introduced, and at length were played for a slight stake. To participate in this, Thomas refused, on the plea that he did not know enough of the games to risk anything. He had not the moral courage to declare that he considered it wrong to gamble. 

All these departures from what he had been taught by his father to consider a right course, were attended by much uneasiness and pain of mind. But he had yielded to the tempter, and he could not now find the power within him to resist his influence successfully. 

It happened, about six months after his introduction to such an entirely new course of life, that he was invited one evening by his companion Boyd to call on a friend with him. He had, on that day, received from his father five pounds, with which to buy himself a new suit of clothes, and a few other necessary articles. He went, of course, and was introduced to a very affable, gentlemanly young man, in his room, at one of the hotels. In a few minutes, wine and cigars were ordered, and the three spent an hour or so in drinking, smoking, and chit-chat of no very elevating or refined character. 

"Come, let us have a game of cards," at last remarked Boyd's friend, during a pause in the conversation; at the same time going to his trunk, and producing a pack of cards. 

"No objection," responded Boyd. 

"You will take a hand, of course?" said the new friend, looking at Thomas Howland. 

But Thomas said that he knew nothing of cards. 

"Oh, that's no matter! You can learn in two minutes," responded the friend of Boyd. 

Young Howland felt reluctant; but he could not resist the influence that was around him, and so he consented to finger the cards with the rest. As they gathered around the table, a shilling was laid down by each of the young men, who looked towards Thomas as they did so. 

"I cannot play for money," said Howland, colouring; for he felt really ashamed to acknowledge his scruples. 

"And why not?" asked the friend of Boyd, looking him steadily in the face.

"Because I think it wrong," stammered out Howland, colouring still more deeply. 

"Nonsense! Is not your money your own? What harm, then, is there in your doing with your own as you please?" urged the tempter. 

"But I do not know enough of the game to risk my money." 

"You don't think we would take advantage of your ignorance?" said Boyd. "The stake is only to give interest to the game. I would not give a copper for a game of cards without a stake. Come, put down your shilling; and we will promise to pay you back all you lose, if you wish it, until you acquire some skill." 

But Thomas felt reluctant, and hesitated. Nevertheless, he was debating the matter in his mind seriously, and every moment that reluctance was growing weaker. 

"Will you play?" asked Boyd in a decided tone, breaking in upon his debate. 

"I had rather not," replied Thomas, trying to smile, so as to conciliate his false friends. 

"You are afraid of your money," said Boyd, in a half-sneering tone. 

"It is not that, Boyd." 

"Then what is it, pray?" 

"I am afraid that it is not right." 

This was answered by a loud laugh from his two companions, which touched Thomas a good deal, and made him feel more ashamed of the scruples that held him back from entering into the temptation. 

"Come, down with your stake, Howland!" said Boyd, after he had finished his laugh. 

The hand of Thomas was in his pocket, and his fingers had grasped the silver coin, yet still he hesitated. 

"Will you play, or not?" asked Boyd's friend, with something of impatience in his tone. "Say yes, or no." 

For a moment the mind of Thomas became confused; then the perception came upon him as clear as a sunbeam, that it was wrong to gamble. He remembered, too, vividly, his father's parting injunction.

"No!" he said, firmly and decidedly. 

Both of his companions looked disappointed and angry. 

"What did you bring him here for?" he heard Boyd's companion say to him in an undertone, while a frown darkened upon his brow. 

The reply did not reach his ear; but he felt that his company was no longer pleasant, and rising, he bade them a formal good-evening, and hurriedly retired. That little word no had saved him. The scheme was, to win from him his five pounds, and then involve him in "debts of honour," as they are falsely called, which would compel him to draw upon his father for more money, or abstract it from his employer, a system which had been pursued by Boyd, and which was discovered only a week subsequent, when the young man was discharged in disgrace. It then came out that he had been for months in secret association with a gambler, and that the two shared together their spoils and peculations. 

This incident roused Thomas Howland to a distinct consciousness of the danger that lurked in his path, as a young man, in a large city. He felt, as he had not felt while simply listening to his father's precept, the value of the word no; and resolved that hereafter he would utter that little word--and that, too, decidedly--whenever urged to do what his judgment did not approve. 

"I will be free!" he said, pacing his chamber backward and forward. "I will be free hereafter! No one shall persuade me or drive me to do what I feel to be wrong." 

That resolution was his safeguard ever after. When tempted--and he was tempted frequently--his "No" decided the matter at once. There was a power in it that was all-sufficient in resisting evil.#

The train station was filled with faces of anxiety and excitement while his was inexpressive. As he sat silently on the bench, a loud scream echoed and there was catastrophe. People gathered around the corner beside him. Men just uttered silent words while women burst into cries of fear. But he just sat there and noticed instead, a man in white tuxedo heading towards him with a sweet smile. He stretched out his hand and said

"Leo, come with me. Your time has arrived."

"But sir, I don't know you." he replied.

"That doesn't matter. You have a lot of explanations to do."

The young man kept on talking but he could not comprehend his every word. He started to feel cold when the young man held his palm. Suddenly, everything went mute, and then total silence and peace enveloped him. He felt that he was levitating and he wanted to shout but he couldn't.  He and the man were heading to some very bright tunnel. Then there was a loud banging at the door.

"Leo! Leo! It's already 8 o'clock in the morning and yet you are still in bed."

He immediately got up from his bed and let out loud and fast breaths. Drops of sweat fell from his forehead. "What was that?"  he asked himself. He had the dream again. In fact, he has been dreaming it for four years now and he does not know why he keeps on dreaming the same dream.

Fortunately, Ms. Lydia has come again to his rescue when she banged his room to wake him up. Ms. Lydia became his guardian when his parents decided to migrate to the United States. The physical absence of his parents took a toll on him. He became astray and rebellious. His parents stopped sending him money the moment they knew his vices - drugs and alcohol. Ms. Lydia could not fathom what he had become.

Later that day, Leo went into his usual rendezvous. While walking along the cold pavement of Santo Tomas, a little boy caught his sight. The cold wind that swept the dried leaves on the street and the flickering light of the street lamp posts gave him a cold chill. But the boy stood still under the tree and was sharply staring at him. Curiously, he went near the boy and slowly asked,

"What's wrong little boy? Are you lost?"

"Leo, do you know where you are going?" asked the boy.

"How come you know my name, little boy?" he uttered in surprise.

"It's my duty to look over you Leo. Again, do you know where you are going?"

"Of course! I'm heading home!"

"No Leo, you are not heading home, you are going the wrong way!"

"Oh! Dear boy. I have been walking this street for 20 years."

"I know, and for 5 years, you have been wasting your life."

"Hey! Who are you to tell me I'm wasted? Get lost, kid!"  

And he started to walk away but the boy held his right arm and said,

"Leo, you are really heading the wrong way.

"Listen..."

But the boy was gone. Leo was stunned. He pinched himself to wake up from what he thought was a dream. But he felt his hard pinch. Everything was real; the boy, the sharp eyes, the lamp posts, the dried leaves and the flickering light. He ran as fast as he could until he reached his friend's house. His panting was heavy and his cheeks red, when Alfonso, his friend, opened the door. He noticed Leo's face and asked,

"Hey Leo, what's wrong with you? It seems like you've seen a ghost."

"I did, Alfonso. I saw a ghost!" He stuttered, still panting.

"Oh you freak! Stop fooling around. Why don't you buy us beer and let's start the session?"

"Good idea Alfonso. Where is Trixie? I need my shot!"

Trixie, his ecstacy dealer, came down from the stairs with bags of ecstacy in her hand.

"Guess who's gonna on high tonight". She teased as she sat beside Alfonso in the sofa. Meanwhile, Alfonso went outside to buy bottles of beer and a bottle of vodka.

Six minutes later and Leo, Alfonso and Trixie were feeling high already. They intoxicated themselves with beer, vodka, took some pills, danced wildly with the loud rock music playing over the radio, screamed and shouted at the top of their lungs, unmindful of the neighbors.

Eventually, Leo got up from his seat and went into the  dark alley between the houses to pee. When he was about finished, a little girl passed by and said in low voice,

"Time is running out, Leo!"

Leo turned his head but the little girl was gone already. He swiftly zipped his pants and ran towards Alfonso. He sat on his chair and gulped his 9th bottle of beer. He held the bottle of vodka and he half-emptied it.

"Hey man, slowly!" said Alfonso.

But Leo did not listen. What was important to him at that fleeting time was to be drunk then sleep.

Then his phone beeped. He read his text message and it read,

"Please meet me at the train station. I need to talk to you. Please come as soon as possible."

Leo ignored the text message. He thought that it was stupid to entertain a message from a stranger. Instead, he took his third pill of ecstacy and drank the last bottle of beer.

Ten minutes passed and his cellphone beeped again. It contained the same text message. Leo ignored it completely. He kept on going wild. He again requested Trixie to give him his last pill of ecstacy. After Leo took in the pill, he drank the remaining vodka from the bottle. Then his phone rang loudly. Leo picked up his phone and answered.

"Hello. Who's on the line?"

"Leo, stop what you are doing and meet me at the train station."

Leo was mesmerized. The voice he heard from the phone was subtle and refreshing. It was a man's voice but it was cool to the ears. He unconsciously put on his shoes and coat and drove Trixie's car to the train station.

Finally, Leo was at the train station. The place was crowded with people. How could he possibly know the person who called him from this throng of people. He decided to sit on the nearest bench and lit a cigarette. 

Suddenly, a woman screamed. There was horror in her face. Then the woman was crowded with curious onlookers. There were loud murmurings but Leo ignored them. Then he heard the same subtle voice from behind.

"Your time has arrived Leo. You have a lot of explanations to do."

The young man held out his hand and everything turned silent. Leo was so confused because he was compelled to take the hand of the mysterious man in white tuxedo suit. Without a word, together they headed to the bright tunnel. They rose higher and higher to the bright space. When Leo looked down, he saw the crowd below. When he got a peek at what the crowd circled, he saw a man lying on the floor, lifeless, with a stick of cigarette still stuck between his fingers. He recognized the gothic letters tattooed on the man's arm.

It read, LEO CAMTAL.