Reason To Write

***

A Silly Story

He stared at the phone for a good five minutes. There was this thing inside of him urging him on to punch 8 buttons in a sequence which he knew by heart.

Should I call or should I not? he debated.

He got up next and walked to the balcony in a bid to ease off the pressure that he was putting on himself. Clothes were draped on bamboo poles and left to dry on a warm August afternoon. A man was using a loudspeaker to inform residents that he would be coming up to their flats to buy used newspapers and other junk. The man tending the mama shop was giving some change to a kid who was buying some candy from him. At the basketball court, a group of guys were kicking a ball around while a few girls, presumably their girlfriends watched on while trying to keep themselves cool by fanning themselves with the latest edition of Teenage magazine.

All seemed normal around him, but inside of him, there was this mix of anxiety and nervousness.

Gingerly, he took his mobile phone out from his pocket again. He looked at the set of numbers flashed before him and then, the SMS message:

“Dear George, please call me. I think we need to set the record straight on some issues.”

He sighed and put the phone back into his pocket.

--

It was almost at the end of her day in the office when she received the SMS. She thought nothing of it at first and went about packing up her things.

“Hey Cindy. Care for a drink with us down at Chjmes this evening?” a colleague popped into her cubicle without any warning and it startled her.

“Eugene, mind if you knock before popping in like that the next time round? It’s not very polite, you know?” she glared at him.

“Alright. Don’t have to be so touchy about it. Just thought you might wanna join us that’s all. You don’t have to react like that, right?” Eugene tried to defend himself.

“It’s not about being touchy about things, Mr. Koh Swee Keng. It’s about being considerate,” she tried to put her point across.

“Time of the month eh? When all your hormones go “zoom”, “wham” and “bang”? I shall leave you be, lest I get hammered by your handbag,” he blurted and walked as fast as he could away from Cindy’s cubicle so that he could have the last word on the argument.

Childish, she thought to herself. All men are like that.

With her desk all organized and the essential stuff packed into her black bag, she started to head for the lift.

What shall I do for this weekend? Hmm… Maybe I should call Mel to see if she wants to go for a short getaway at Bintan.

As she was taking the mobile phone out from her handbag, she was reminded again of George’s SMS.

Oh yes. George. Guess I have to settle things with him. Can’t let this drag on anymore.

--

He was by the phone again and looking at it anxiously.

“Hi. Cindy here. I am not available to answer your call right now. If you need to speak with me, please leave me a message and your number. I will get back to you shortly. Bye.”

“Beep.”

“Hi Cindy. George here. I am returning your call… er… no… your SMS. Please call me at home as soon as possible.”

Twiddling his thumbs, he sat there by the sofa. Beads of perspiration formed on his forehead despite having the living room fan on at full blast.

“Ah Heng ah. What’s wrong with you today? You’ve been hovering around the phone the whole day today. Are you ok?” his mother called out from her room.

“I’m ok ma. Just waiting for a call. An important call,” he replied.

“Someone’s calling you for an interview? Good la, son. It has been six months since you graduated. It is high time you find a job. The faster…" his mother started nagging.

“I know lah,” feeling mildly irritated whenever his mother brought up the subject of him being ungainfully unemployed. Not wanting to allow her to follow up with a tirade on all the other issues, he grabbed the cordless phone and went into his room.

--

The familiar sound from her mobile phone distracted her for a moment from her conversation with Mel, her good friend.

“Excuse me, dear,” Cindy said and pulled her mobile out from her handbag.

“Must be a man,” Mel teased.

Ignoring her, she read the words which flashed on her screen.

Then she heaved a long sigh.

“See. I told you. Only men can make you sigh like that,” her friend teased again.

“It’s George lah,” she muttered.

“George?” Her friend looked up as she sipped her tea. “Your uni “sweetheart”?”

“Don’t say that. You know very well what I think of him,” Cindy shot back.

“Ok. What’s with him this time round? Going to send you 50 roses again?” Mel started giggling.

“I hope it not going to be something like that. He’s embarrassed me enough the last time round when he got someone to send those roses to the office. Eugene and his gang had a field day teasing me,” Cindy sighed again and put the phone down.

Mel laughed. “You gotta shake this bloke off, girl, before he makes you go all red again.”

Cindy pouted.

“Don’t tell me you need me to give you ideas on how to go about doing this?” Mel looked at Cindy intently.

“No. Of course not. I can handle this all by myself. Many thanks,” she declined her friend’s offer.

“Alright. But whatever you do, don’t dig a hole so big you can’t climb your way back out,” Mel smiled.

“Men. Somehow those whom you have no interest in flock to you in hordes, while those you really want to get close are so damn aloof,” Cindy started to complain.

“You’ll get your man one day. However, taking a few things out from your list will help you in your search a little,” Mel advised.

“What list?”

“5Cs dear. Try taking out one or two. Not all Singaporean men are loaded.”

“Nonsense… What’s there to stop me from going for the best?”

“It’s your call and your life, dear. And I’ll always be here for you.” Mel assured her.

--

The phone rang.

Wringing his hands, he paused for a few seconds, wondering if that would be the phone call to end all future phone calls.

“Answer the phone, George!” His mother was shouting from her room.

What the hell, he thought to himself and pressed the button.

“Hello?”

“Hello. Is this George?”

It was the all-familiar voice.

“Yes. I am George.”

“This is Cindy.”

“Hi Cindy.”

“Look… I am not going to waste my time doing this ‘Hi George – Hi Cindy” thing with you all day. I need to settle some things with you and I hope that you can co-operate with me.”

He knew what would be coming next.

“…You there with me?”

“Yes” he muttered.

“Good. I have just one simple message for you, George and before I say it, I want you to know that we are still friends.”

“Erm… Cindy…”

“Don’t interrupt me. You see… that’s the problem with all the men like you. Not a gentleman. Don't respect the women. All bloody chauvinists. Now, where was I?

“You wanted me to know that we are still friends.”

“Oh yeah. Stop pestering me, George. I am sure you know very well by now that nothing will happen between the both of us. Do you hear me loud and clear on this one?”

“…”

“Hello? Anybody home?”

“Yes.”

“Yes for?”

“Yes. Nothing will happen between the both of us… but…”

“No “buts”, dearie. And no more roses to my office. Do you understand?”

“Ok. Can I say something?”

“Yes you may, right after you agree never to disturb me again with your out-dated ideas of courting a woman.”

“Is it a crime to fall in love with someone?”

“How old are you, George?”

“25?”

“Aren’t you a little too old for crushes? Man, I thought you would have grown out of it by now?”

“I cannot stop myself from feeling how I feel towards…”

“Ok. Enough! I don’t want to go on a protracted argument with you on such … such… mundane stuff. Just in case you did not get it the first time round, I am telling you that as much as you have feelings for me, sorry George dear, I don’t happen to have those fluttery, sweet feelings for you. Roger that?”

“Roger.”

“Good. No more flowers or gifts or letters or anything. Is that clear?”

“Yes.”

“Good. I hope I have made myself clear enough. All the best for your job search. Bye.”

The line went “click”.

The man was left with his mouth open and still holding the cordless phone to his ear.

--

She heaved a sigh of relief.

“That was some conversation you had,” Mel commented.

“I had to do it,” Cindy explained.

“Don’t you think it was a little harsh on that poor boy?” Mel asked.

“He asked for it and I had to do it before I become the embarrassment of the entire department. You know how busybody that Eugene is,” she replied.

“You’ve just bruised a man’s ego, dearie,” Mel remarked.

“All the better. That will make sure that he will not bug me again. Another bloody 50 stalks of roses and he’ll get hell from me,” she seethed in anger.

“Tell me. Were you like that when you were that feisty secondary schoolgirl? With your beauty, you should have attracted more than an army of hormones-raging boys,” Mel teased.

“By Secondary Two, I bruised enough egos to earn myself the reputation of being an ‘untouchable’”, Cindy said.

“I sense pride,” her friend replied.

“Enough of men. I feel like I need some retail therapy. How about going on a round of window shopping with me?” she tried to change the topic.

“Sure. I could do with a new necklace.”

--

Monday morning.

She found herself buried in work. There was a report she needed to complete by the end of the day. Eugene and a few colleagues popped by her cubicle for a while but were all chased away.

Stupid people. Don’t they have work to do?

The phone rang while she was engrossed in writing an email which she had to send to the parent company in the US. Not suspecting anything, she picked up the phone, half-expecting it to be her anxious boss asking about the status of the report.

It took her a few milliseconds to register that voice on the other line as a familiar one.

“Hi. Is this Cindy?”

“No. I think you got the wrong number,” she blurted out, in a desperate but fatally dumb bid to shake him off.

“I think you are lying. You are Cindy, aren’t you?”

“Ok, George. What’s up?”

“I’m feeling really depressed right now. I want to have a short chat with you now.”

“Oh please. Will you stop bugging me? I am at work, you know?”

“If you don’t oblige, I’ll…”

“Jump down the tallest building you can find? Sure, go ahead and be my guest.”

With that, she slammed the phone down. Moments later, she forgot all about the call.

--

“George… George… Are you going out?” His mother was shouting from her room again.

She did not receive a direct response from him.
“George, did you remember to take your medicine today?”

There was no response again.

Then, the front door of the house slammed shut.

--

She was in a daze when she learnt about it.

It was just a casual remark just to shake him off and I have no inkling of an idea that he would take it so seriously.

His black-and-white photograph was part of the page-three article in the newspaper. Above it was the headlines in big, bold letters, “NUS Grad, 25, Suffering From Depression, Jumps to His Death”.

Then, she got a call from Mel.

“Cindy, tell me it isn’t him.”

She stayed silent for a few seconds.

“So… it was him?”

“I don’t think it is my fault, Mel…”

“I don’t know, Cindy. According to the papers, he has got a dad who is suffering from liver cancer and his mother is the sole breadwinner…”

“And she supports the family by being a dressmaker. She was the one who saw him through his uni education, financially as his father was so ill that he could not work. I am gutted, Mel.”

“Cindy. I think his mother will be devastated… After all, he was their only child.”

“Mel, “she sighed. “Let me tell you a secret.”

“Go on.”

“I went to the wake yesterday. I don’t know when was the last time I cried so much, but I could not help myself when I saw his distraught mother wailing by his coffin.”

“Then again, surely you are not to be blamed for…”

“I don’t know, Mel. I really don’t know. How would you feel if you realize that you might have indirectly caused someone's death and brought sadness and grief to a family?”