An Almost-Walk To Remember

At precisely 7pm I knock on my senior’s door and ask permission to leave the office for a couple of hours.

“You got a date yeah?”, he said smugly.
“No. Yoga class.” I say, pretending to look hurt by his suggestion. “I’ll be back by 9-ish.”

I exit the office lobby and was greeted by the sight of traffic. It was the day before Christmas eve, and the good citizens of Jakarta are unanimously in panic to make it home before traffic gets bad, which naturally makes traffic worse. I gave up hopes on finding a cab and walked instead to the nearest busway terminal. My gym is located at about 20 minutes walking distance from my office. In Singapore that would be like walking slowly from Wheelock Place to Paragon City. In New York that would be like walking from Bubba Gump to Macy’s. It would be common. In Jakarta it is unheard of to walk such a distance, unless you have absolutely no choice.

But I like the busway. Despite having been sandwiched between its doors once because of the idiocy of a certain busway driver, it is effective and remains the closest thing to a metro subway you can get. Plus, it still retains some exotic third world charms, e.g. people fighting to get inside always compete with the people fighting to get out. So I took the busway, and two busway stations later, I got out and found that it was raining hard. Very hard. I did not bring an umbrella, and was forced to huddle under the leaking roof of the terminal, 5 minutes walking distance shy from my gym. I felt sad, cold, impotent. Not to mention late for yoga. I contemplated making a run for it, but then remembered my gym was located on the 5th floor of a glitzy mall. I saw myself, wet and soaked and dripping, entering the mall’s marbled lobby, going past the disdainful security, and being greeted by an acquaintance from the neighbouring stock exchange building. The thought was unbearable. So I waited, sad cold and impotent.

Suddenly, amidst the crowd of cold pedestrians, motorcyclists, and miscellaneous beings huddled underneath the terminal, there came a shining beacon in the form of a woman wearing a biggish umbrella, leather handbag, and monochrome suit. Her outfit looked like it was heading for the stock exchange.

“Excuse me miss, are you heading the direction of the stock exchange?” I asked her, and she nodded like serendipity. I asked her if I could share her umbrella and she nodded again. So we became two strangers in the night, braving the storms and trudging through puddles together. If she had been a guy, the story would have ended with a wistful “I never got to know his name.”

As it was, I thanked her, whoever her name was, and made it to yoga class on time. Finished on time. Showered on time. Proceeded to find a cab back to the office, which would be easy as the mall and stock exchange are stock full of waiting cabs. But apparently, the taxi stands were empty tonight, and the taxi queue spelled doom. I waited 5, 10, 15 minutes, and then started to think the unthinkable: I might have to walk back to the office. And then, in a sudden burst of inspiration that is born from desperation, I remembered that bf works at the stock exchange building. And bf has car.

I dial his number and get a busy tone. I dial his other number. He picks up. I say, “Hi! Where are you?” and he says he’s driving and he already left the office.

“Oh.” I say, putting the whole weight of the world on the monosyllable.
“Why, what’s the matter?”
“I’m stuck at the stock exchange. I can’t get back to the office. There’s no cab. I’ve been waiting forever. I need a lift!” I almost sob.
“What? How long have you been waiting?”
“Like, half an hour!” I exaggerate.
“Okay wait, I’ll turn back”, he says.

10 minutes later, he shows up like a knight in shining umm.. car.. and I open the door and pronounce with sparkling eyes, “My savior!!”
I then proceeded to hug him throughout the entire journey back to my office. Which, by the way, lasted a full five minutes.

Mayhem

(a fiction)

I can’t say for sure whether the invisible ring around my finger is tight.
After all, it is invisible. Perhaps I merely imagined it. But that can’t be right.
Sometimes I see it glinting in the sunlight as I reach for my cup of coffee. Sometimes I accidentally leave it behind on the sink after I wash my hands. I would panic, and then feel relieved when I find that it is still there, on the sink, where I left it. Sometimes I twist it absent-mindedly, as I search for the right words to say. So you see, I can’t have been imagining things. Besides, it was given to me by a very special man.

I still remember the day he gave it. He was twirling his fork, absentmindedly I thought at the time, but now I know he must have been nervous. The spaghetti kept sliding off the end of it, and he finally put it down and said, “I’ve decided my primary ambition in life is to make you happy”. I smiled and felt that was the happiest moment of my life. He took my hand and there, right there between our enjoined palms, lay the cold metal smoothness of the invisible ring. It was beautiful. I’ve worn it ever since.

Ever since means about 3 years. But it feels a bit loose lately, as if my finger had lost weight. I weighed my body on the scales just to check, and sure enough, I had lost weight. I haven’t been in the mood to eat in recent weeks. I’m beginning to worry because the ring, it disappears sometimes. And when that happens I sit down and cry. One time I had to go down on all fours in my office to check whether it was on the carpet. I called in my secretary to help, and she couldn’t find it either. I then dialled his number and asked him whether I left it at his place, and he said, “What ring?”

But you see, I can’t have been imagining things. I’ve been wearing it for so long. I called up my friend and asked her if I had left it in her car the other night when we went out. She said she hadn’t seen anything. She said that by the way she had bumped into my man this afternoon and she thought his sister was really cute.

I said he doesn’t have a sister.