He sat there on the brown armchair, staring outside the 7-feet window. He stared at the towering skyscrapers, watching the blazing afternoonsun. He slowly stretched his right arm towards the coffee table on his right, he took his mug, sipped the coffee out of it, he put it back. As he lost his consciousness to the setting sun, his eyes slowly teared, he wiped it away. He gave a soft sigh, his eyelids were getting heavier, he mumbled something; it sounded like "Thank you". He closed his eyes.
***********************
"How was it?" asked Malim. "It was great, I can't believe they actually had it there" replied Robert. Both of them walked out of the bookstore. The mall was awfully crowded this weekend, it’s a long weekend, because Merdeka was on Tuesday, and Monday was being replaced. The floors of the mall, were crowded by teenagers clutching their iPods, lovers clinging to each other, families sticking to together and some elderly carefully counting every step as they walked.
Malim smiled broadly, he is just excited because he had attained his long awaited book about Hitler's hobbies. You see, Malim had a rare passion of war, especially WWII and the French revolutionary war. He walked with best mate, Robert, Robert then walked with Denise. The three of them scurried through the jam-packed lanes.
Parwin tapped his fingers on the table impatiently, he eyes scanned over the immense of people. His eyes caught Robert's, he instantly waved it high. "Where were you guys!?" cried Parwin, "I was sitting here for half-an hour already". "We were held up, sorry, anyway thanks for holding our sit, you said, you didn't want to join us." replied Malim.
Lady Antebellum's Need you now, played suddenly, Robert took out his phone and answered it. His face grew pale.
******************************************************************
Marie was hurrying through the hallways, she stumbled her way through nurse's office, dashed through the blood bank and now was walking with pace to Lab 12, the double-door lab stared at her face, she was getting closer to it, she banged it open.
"Ah, yes, Miss Taylor, I mean Mrs. Sherrod, finally you're here, now we can begin" said Dr. Burhannudin calmly. He told the students to take their sits, he walked over to Marie, whispered to her "They are all yours."
Marie Taylor-Sherrod was a microbiologist, the words Malayan University of Health and Science lingered largely over her head. "All right class, I see Dr. Din have already given you a short briefing on this med school and I suppose, about me too?". The class of 18 stared at her attentively, their faces all full of determination, all future doctors.
Marie continued her speech, she gave a basic introduction on microorganism, their relative discovery and their effect on humankind. She continues talking, while walking up and down the lab-cum-classroom, occasionally asking each students to introduced themselves.
As she was withdrawing out her Pilot Wyteboard Marker, she felt her Nokia vibrating in her pocket. "Excuse me, I've got to take this" she said to her class.
"Yeah, what's up?". These words left her mouth, then suddenly she gasped in shock.
Michael James Taylor, slowly walked his way down the stairs. It was 6.15, he was still in his pyjamas. He walked slowly, hunching a little, towards the kitchen, open the cabinet and took out the bottle of Necafe gold. He poured some of the powder in to his mug: World’s Greatest Grand Dad!. He simmered the coffee for awhile. He took it and laid it on the coffee table and his brown armchair facing the outside world.
The two-storey penthouse was occupied by 5 people. Three generations of the Taylors stayed in this modern 13-million dollar penthouse. Michael, opened the front door, and took the elevator down. The doors slide open, he stepped out it in his black rubber slippers, “Morning, uncle!” shouted Rajvish, the door man. Michael waved at him and walked over to him, resting his arm on the marble counter-top, Rajvish handed to Michael, the daily paper of the Times. Michael, and Rajvish started a conversation, and on this morning it was about last night’s riot in Bangkok over the news.
Marie came down from stairs, “Can’t this old man, ever use a coaster?” She walked into the kitchen, her eyes widened, her dad left the sugar bottle out from the rack. She grumbled to herself, she looked at her watch, 6.57. She was all ready dressed to meet her new batch of students at her med school. She made herself a cup of Nesvita, she walked over to the dining table, she switched on her MacBook, and put on her reading glasses. Tip, tap, tip, tap, her fingers went over the keyboard.
It is now 7, Robert came down, all dressed in a polo t-shirt, faded blue jeans, and a yellow-brown knapsack. Tucked out, he went straight to the kitchen, grabbed a readymade sandwiched from the fridge. He walked over to the living room, threw his bag on the couch and slumped in the opposite couch.
The front door opened, Michael came in, “Morning son. How are you today?” “I’m ok grandpa, you know right, I’m out today, I’ll go to the park with you next week, ok?”. Michael, sighed and softly said to Robert, that he understood.
He went, to the dining room, “Good morning princess”. “Dad, how many times, do I have to tell you to keep the sugar back in the rack? And what were you thinking last night, throwing away, those papers? I needed them, now I have to re-print them, and arrange them all over again with this file!”shouted Marie. Michael knew, that he annoyed his daughter, who asked her to put her papers on that pile of old newspapers?
The phone rang, the clock on the wall showed 7.35. Michael picked it up.
“Hey, dad! Please tell Marie that I won’t be coming home tomorrow, I’ll only come back on Wednesday, it seems the deal can’t be made because of the holidays. Hey, sorry that means I can’t take you out this Tuesday for the Merdeka show, huh, maybe next year?” said the voice on the other end.
Michael understood. His son-in-law was a good man, almost too good, he thought, always finding ways to fill their needs. Never home, always its work, oh well, the life of a chartered accountant. Michael then grabbed the copy of Discovery and his Times and went to his brown armchair.
Patricia opened the front door of the penthouse, she walked in. She looked at the clock on the wall, it was 1.26 pm. She was tired, she looked drained, she creeped in the house. She walked slowly in, “Patricia, is that you?” A voice of an elderly man said. “Yes grandpa, what do you want?” asked Patricia to Michael, she walked over to him. He looked wearily at her, and forced a smile. “You know what I’m tired, and I need to rest, I know what you said last night and I don’t need a lecture from you!” She stomped off to her room.
An hour later, she came out of the room, realizing what she said to her granddad was wrong, she walked over to him. She touched his hand, it was warm but the warmth was gone. She looked at him, his chest wasn’t moving, he was still. “Grandpa?” She taped his arm, gave it a little more jerk, no response. Tears rolled down her eyes, she jumped up from the footstool she was on, took out her phone, dialed her mom Marie, she almost broke down as she was speaking.
“Mom….mom, I th…thi….think grandpa is gone”
Robert stood there looking at the brown arm chair, it was now empty. Then something caught his eye, there was this hand written letter under the Times. He took it, he read it in his heart;
“I know, I haven’t been the best man I could in your lives. I am sorry for the things I have done, I know I am old-fashioned, but I want what is best for this family. I love you all. You all gave me the love I needed. I am sorry if I couldn’t return it. I thank you all.
To my lovely princess, to her knight and to my grandchildren”
Robert sat down on the floor, he started crying. Marie came to his side along with Patricia, the three of them sat together. Gregory Sherrod, too sat with them. This is a moment where the family was together.
Remember, always live for the moment and love everyone, because we will never know when the ones we love will be taken away from us. Appreciate our time, love each other, respect the ones who hate us, care for the ones who abandon us and always show gratitude to the ones who make our day.
20 August 2010
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