"FROM WHEELCHAIR TO GARDENIAS"
I remember squeezing my way into a packed elevator on a cloudy Monday morning in February, when someone spilled coffee on me. The lady was endlessly apologetic.
I remember squeezing my way into a packed elevator on a cloudy Monday morning in February, when someone spilled coffee on me. The lady was endlessly apologetic.
“It’s OK”, is what I had responded.
“Sh*t”, is what I actually muttered under my breath.
I stepped out hastily into the 51st floor and immediately hunted for a restroom. Once I was cleaned up and was leaving the restroom, I noticed a man in his late thirties, struggling to open the men’s restroom door. He was in a wheelchair. I jumped to his rescue and pushed the door for him. He stared back at me questioningly. I can never forget that look.
“Did I ask for help?” he yelled.
“You are welcome”, I said sarcastically, shocked at his thankless behavior.
“Stop pitying on the handicapped”, he said.
“Since when was an act of kindness considered pity?” I frowned.
“Since now,” he replied.
“Well, alas your true disability is in your heart!” I said as I watched him open the door with a walking stick. He stared at me furiously for a second and then closed the door behind him.
What a heartless man!
I scurried in the hallway looking for Wesley Associates and soon discovered that I was 10 floors below my destination. I made it to the 61st floor in the next few minutes and noticed a big wall clock staring back at me mockingly. I was 15 minutes late to my first day at work.
Sh*t!
The HR lady, Gretta, and the project coordinator, Samuel, who had interviewed me for the Advertising intern job, met me in their office and went over the rules and job description. They were not happy at my late arrival but gave me the benefit of doubt. I was hired for a nine months of internship, after which I would be hired full-time based on my performance. At that point, they would file for my work visa. I was delighted to finally find a job in my field that would apply for a visa. At that point, it was a jack pot.
The HR associate walked me around the 5000 sq ft office and introduced me to other employees. Wesley was a small privately-owned advertisement firm, run by two brothers. Jonathan Wesley ran the West Coast office out of San Fransisco and Michael Wesley ran the East Coast office out of New York.
The HR lady pointed at the Statue of Liberty from one of the windows and grunted, “You would think you get a view of this from your desk? But you don’t. Only Mike’s office is conveniently located with a proper view of the Statue. Are you nervous?”
I was listening and smiling uncomfortably at her abrupt remarks. “Nervous and excited,” I said.
She quickly added, “I would be nervous too if I was sitting across the room from Mike. Don’t worry; he lets you out alive by the end of the day if you finish your projects two days before deadline”. She laughed and pointed at my cubicle.
“Once you are settled into your cubicle, go meet Mike. He called me twice looking for you. You will be reporting directly to him. Lucky you!” she laughed sarcastically and left me by myself.
What a weirdo.
I knocked on his door and was immediately summoned in. I smelled gardenias and then our eyes met in disbelief.
“What are you doing here?” yelled Mike in a wheelchair.
“I am Meera Gupta, the intern. Sorry, I didn’t know…”
I had yelled at my boss at the first day of work and now I had to remind him that he had hired me.
“So if you knew, you wouldn’t have opened that door for me?”
“No, I mean yes, I mean..”
Damn, he has already impaired my speech and I haven’t even started working with him yet.
He shook his head and ignored me for the next five minutes as he resumed working, and then finally turned towards me.
“I hate late comers and excuses. I want projects finished before deadline. I don’t give any time off unless what’s asked for has been delivered. I only talk business and don’t like being asked questions. So save it when you need it most. And yes, I hate pitying or being pitied at”
I gaped as he talked. I was still struggling to believe my bad luck.
“I want you to prepare a list of public relation activities conducted by our company in last 2 years and its impact on our growth. Graphs, data, spreadsheets, everything. Any questions, ask Samuel”
“You need it today?” I asked and soon regretted.
“Which part of “Any questions ask Samuel” did you not get?” he asked.
“Yes, sorry. I will take your leave now,” I replied.
“Please do because I can’t stand you,” he said.
Is this man for real?
I went back to my cubicle and started organizing my thoughts. What a morning. Why on earth did I take this job? I could see how miserable it would get in the next one year. I sucked up all the bad thoughts and kept repeating in my head, “One year Meera. Get your visa and experience, and quit”
I met with Samuel and others to collect the data and do the needful. I have seen this before; bad boss trying to harass and break his employee. Not letting this happen with me. I won’t let him win. I worked incessantly and by 6 PM realized I was nowhere near finishing. The data entry took me forever. I asked Samuel if I could work late and come early tomorrow.
“Do what you need to, but this needs to be ready by 12 PM tomorrow for Mike’s review so he can present it to potential clients for a 2 PM meeting,” said Samuel.
OK, I guess I am living in my cubicle from now on.
I worked till 8 PM and decided to wrap up. I noticed the elevator door open right after it closed. Mr. Attitude stepped in. I greeted without being greeted back. There was an awkward silence. I knew very well now what not to do. I knew not to ask “Which floor?” and press the button for him. So I stood there in silence, wondering what he was thinking. There was this raw energy about him. His unshaved look, intense eyes, strong masculine scent, reserved disposition, and sturdy build made him irresistible to look at. But his rude nature probably kept women miles away. I, for sure, would never want to be around a man like him. I felt sorry for him being on a wheelchair, but somehow his behavior took over my sympathy and all I could feel for him was aversion. Rumor had it, he had fallen down the stairs in his house and ended up on a wheelchair few weeks back.
We parted that night without saying goodbyes.
Next morning, I came super early and resumed work. I got a call from Mike.
“Get me a glazed donut and a hazelnut coffee, no cream,” and off went the line.
Did he call me by mistake? Since when did my job involve room service?
Annoyed at his order and for disrupting my work, I rushed to the cafeteria and came back with his order. I waited for him to say thanks and to give me money for the food. I was an unpaid intern after all.
“You may leave,” he said. I stood there, shocked.
What a jerk.
I went to Gretta and asked her if this was part of my job. She smiled and responded, “When Mike asks for something, it is probably part of your job”
“But that’s not right. I wasn’t hired as a secretary. I am an advertising intern”
“Fine, tell your boss that or you can file a complaint if you wish,” she said and handed me a form.
I knew where this was going so I returned to my desk. If I wanted to stay here, I had to keep shut. But knowing me, I wondered when my patience would give up.
I handed him the files at 11.50 AM. He looked over it briefly and pointed 15 mistakes and asked me to fix them in the next 30 minutes. I did and then I was asked again to fix 10 more issues.
Mr. Attitude is unstoppable, isn’t he?
His meeting didn’t go well. Apparently the data had flaws. Though not my fault, I had to bear the brunt of it. It was pretty humiliating.
So my first project failed to impress him. The next few weeks were even worse. He would assign me tasks that would keep me in office late and require working on the weekends. I had no social life; parties, pubs, and movies, sounded like a dream. My friends were extremely worried for me, but I reassured them that this won’t last forever so they left me alone for some time. Mike would randomly order donuts through me. I was saving all the bills but didn’t dare to show them to him yet.
One day I was caught off-guard when I stole a few minutes away from work to look at my emails on my iPhone. He snuck up on me and stood in the back watching me. He was back on his feet a few weeks back. When I turned back, I was startled.
“If you are done Tweeting, can I show you the errors in this file?”
He spoke for 15 minutes on how I wasn’t working hard enough and that there are people desperately waiting to get my job. I listened quietly as people passed by. I held back my tears and thought, Someday I am going to kick you and get you back on a wheelchair.
“Sorry,” I said.
I did make some mistakes in the project but the rude words were uncalled for. I was working twice as hard as any full time employee, but for no money, and here he was yelling on my face on how I wasn’t working hard enough. I wanted to throw the papers on his face and walk out, but I couldn’t. I wondered why he was like this; why he nurtured so much hatred. Was this because of that first day’s incident or was it how he was in real life. He was rude to everyone around him, but his attitude towards me was just unfathomable. He took special interest in hurting me.
“I will correct them today,” I said.
“When? Its 6 PM already,” he asked with a frown.
“It’s too early for me to leave. I work till 8 PM every day, in case you haven’t noticed” I said indifferently and resumed working. He stood there for a few seconds and left without saying a word. That was a first.
In the next few months, I and Mike had become co-dependent. I was dependent on him to stay in the company and he was dependent on me for work. I would never complain working nights and weekends and I always completed my projects before time; he knew that. We shared a hate-hate relationship. He hated me because he couldn’t break me and I hated him for trying to break me. We somehow co-existed through our differences.
In one of our conferences, he looked extremely feeble. He had been working nights on winning an investment firm’s attention. In the meeting with the firm, he barely managed to speak. Everyone noticed his weak disposition but nobody dared to ask if he was OK. Mike being Mike, made a good impact on the clients despite his weakness, and they left happily that night. A part of me wanted to leave and the other part wanted to stay back. I couldn’t help but feel sorry for him. “An ill person can never be bad,” I remembered these words from an old classic Indian movie. I asked if he was OK, scared to death that he may just throw me out of the 61st floor for asking him that. He asked me to leave him alone.
“You don’t look OK. Is there anything I can get you?” I asked.
“Did you not understand what I just said? Leave me alone”, he replied.
“I am not leaving without getting you some medical attention” I sounded persistent.
He looked at me alarmingly but didn’t comment. He was quiet for a moment and then asked me to give him his medicine bag that was placed on a stool. He took his medicine and said, “I have taken my painkiller; had a minor headache. Can you leave now? It’s too late so I have informed my driver, he will give you a ride home. Now please leave.”
That was the first act of kindness he had shown towards me. I was touched. On my way back home I wondered how he was trying to hide a kind heart behind a tough exterior.
Next day I was having lunch with my colleague Steve in the company cafeteria. I and Steve had become good friends and we used to share our stories. He said Mike’s wife had left him for another man after eight years of marriage. He added, “I wonder why!” and laughed. No wonder Mike was so bitter, I thought. While we chatted, I noticed Mike ordering food at the cafeteria. He was staring at us. I ignored him as he finished up his Waldorf salad at the other end of the room, alone. Somehow I felt sorry for Mike that day.
A few minutes later I was summoned to his room. He asked me to assist him on the upcoming long weekend in finalizing a deal. He looked extremely upset and asked me to spend more time at my desk and less at the cafeteria. That was the first day in last many months that I had taken a proper lunch break and I knew that I rightfully deserved it. I was very angry at his reaction but had to swallow my fury. I cancelled my plans for the weekend and worked and also took a few more bullets from him. When you worked alone with him, he was at his worst.
I left his office at 7 PM on Saturday and met Steve in the lobby. Steve had been working late so we decided to grab dinner together. I, Steve, and Mr. Attitude took the same elevator. The environment in the elevator was so quietly tensed that I had to press the button for the 20th floor. I and Steve took another elevator down.
On Tuesday I was informed of a new hire, Cindy, the intern. She was to share the same position as me. I was furious. Now the race to the full-time job was not mine alone. Why on earth did he hire another intern when I was working so hard? I knew I had no right to ask; it was his company after all, but I decided to talk to him. When I entered his room, the first thing he said was, “Now you should have more time for lunch and dinner. We have a new intern; she can take up most of the work,” he said in a sarcastic tone.
“Brief her and train her for next one week,” he added.
I stood there, feeling defeated. I had worked incessantly for last nine months and had lost to this man. A few months back I wouldn’t have mind the extra time for lunch and dinner, but somehow now I didn’t care. I was used to working with him. I wondered if me being around Steve bothered him and he chose to hurt me this way. But why would it bother him? Mike couldn’t even stand me.
In the next few weeks, Ms. Stilettos, Cindy, and Mr. Attitude worked closely. She was summoned for the meetings and I was summoned to get him donuts. She was asked to work on important projects and I was asked to receive clients in the lobby. It was getting increasingly frustrating to be treated like that after months of hard work. I was starting to think that he probably wanted an eye candy around him; me being the average looking and Ms. Stilettos being the beautiful one, the choice must have been obvious and easy. I was hurt that some other woman had taken my place, literally.
I realized I was going too far in my thoughts. After all, it’s about the internship, not about who looked prettier. Strangely, I missed working with Mr. Attitude, regardless of the fact that working with him was the toughest thing to do. I couldn’t understand why I missed him when both me and him hated each other and just co-existed through our work. I was losing my mind trying to sort a bag of mixed feelings, and I didn’t know what to do; the only viable option seemed quitting.
One weekend he called me.
“I want you to pick me up tomorrow, Sunday, from the Memorial Hospital at 12 PM. I have a follow-up on my feet and would need a ride to the office. In the office we need to discuss a few things about your position. I also need you to prepare some files for Cindy; she is out this weekend and will assist me on Monday on a presentation,” Mike said demandingly.
Somehow I wasn’t paying attention to his conversation. All I heard was that he needed a ride from me and I had to prepare something for Cindy while she was out enjoying her weekend. Some alien force pushed me to the edge that day. I retaliated.
“Sorry, I can’t help you. It’s a weekend and I am not going to work,” I said sternly.
Did I just say that?
“I am not asking, I am telling you,” said Mike.
“I know and I don’t care,” I said.
Wow I am on a roll today.
Mike hung up and I breathed happily. A few minutes later I recalled what he had said. I suddenly felt guilty, not in saying no to him, but to have refused to help him from the hospital. I saw that this hate-hate relationship was gradually poisoning my heart and I had to stop it from spreading before I turned into a Michael Wesley.
I showed up at the hospital at 12 PM when I saw him walking out.
“I am here to give you a ride,” I said.
“Why? I thought you wanted to enjoy your weekend,” he replied.
“I am not sorry for speaking up for myself. But I am sorry that I refused to give you a ride. That was not right,” I said.
“Well, too late. I have a ride now. Go back to whatever you were doing. I don’t need you for anything,” he said.
Those words were razor sharp and it hit me hard. I stood there watching him leave with his driver. I had said sorry and was wasting my Sunday to give him a ride, and he could care less. What was wrong with this man? I was angry and upset and desperate to voice my feelings. An hour later I showed up at his office, prepared to speak.
“Why do you hate me so much? Why do you always find flaws in my work? Why can’t you appreciate my work for once? Why did you hire Cindy, when I was working nights and weekends for you? Why do you have so much hatred? Why don’t you just ask me to leave if you hate me so much?” I threw the words at him.
I was unstoppable that day. He listened quietly, obviously shocked at my behavior. He started walking towards me as I spoke and then stopped.
“No matter what I do, it is never going to be enough for you. Well, guess what, you win; I will submit my resignation tomorrow, that is if you haven’t fired me by then,” I said.
Before he made an attempt to speak, I left his room in disdain because I didn’t want to be reprimanded by him.
I typed my resignation letter all night and showed up at his office next day in the afternoon. He was missing. I left the letter on his table and went back to my cubicle. There I saw an envelope addressed to me. I opened the envelope and saw a check and a letter.
“ Meera,
Please find enclosed a check that should cover all the bills you paid for me. Yes, I did keep track of them. Now the difficult part. As you must have noticed, I am only good at yelling and giving orders, but not at talking. So here I am, making an attempt in a civilized way to answer your questions.
1. Why do you hate me so much?
-Because I am afraid of the other extreme feeling you bring in me.
2. Why do you always find flaws in my work?
– Because there are flaws in your work.
3. Why can’t you appreciate my work for once?
– I do. You will know soon.
4. Why did you hire Cindy, when I was working nights and weekends for you?
– Steve. And also because we needed to find you a replacement.
5. Why do you have so much hatred?
– When you lose love to deceit, you become hateful. And when you find love again, you pretend that you are hateful, to avoid the same mishap.
6. Why don’t you just ask me to leave if you hate me so much?
-If I did that, who would bring those glazed donuts for me?
7. No matter what I do, it is never going to be enough for you.
– You are right. And therefore there is one more thing I ask of you. Accept the full-time position of Account Executive in our company. Your commitment and talent in exceptional; I’d rather have you with your flaws than lose an employee like you to a competitor.
9. Well, you win; I will submit my resignation tomorrow that is if you haven’t fired me by then.
-Stay. The company needs you. I need you.
That should have answered all your questions.
Another thing, you are the first person I am discussing my health with. I am sick and have been receiving treatment for a bone tumor on my foot; hence the wheelchair, aches, and hospital visit. I have an operation today that should end by 5 PM at the same hospital. If you visit me, I will know you have accepted the position. If you visit me with my favorite flowers, I will know there is more than the job offer that’s stopping you from resigning. Enclosed in a visitor card to the hospital.
See you at the other end,
Mike. ”
I read the letter three times. I must have laughed loudly that day and wiped tears off my cheeks at the same time. He wrote me a love letter and a job offer in the same piece of paper. Only Mike could pull that off. All those confused emotions surfaced with tender joy and pain. I rushed out of the office and stopped at many florist shops. None of them carried gardenias, the flowers I always smelled in Mike’s room. I ran back to the office to run a quick print job and pick up the visitor card.
I arrived early at the hospital and waited for a few hours until I realized that it was way past 5 PM. I was informed that Mike wasn’t up yet and it may take a bit longer. I was suddenly encapsulated in fear. What if he doesn’t wake up? What is worse, never finding love or finding and losing it on the same day? I swallowed my fears and waited the longest wait of my life. Three hours later the nurse informed me that he was fine and I could see him.
Mike saw me approaching from his hospital bed. He smiled lightly and then looked around me, searching for his flowers. I stepped towards him and handed him a printed photo of a gardenia and whispered in his ears “Sorry, couldn’t find fresh gardenias”.
Mike succumbed to cancer seven months later. But those seven months will remain the best part of my life. We lived and loved in the time we had. Today I am lost without him but strangely the thought of loving and losing him overcomes the idea of never having loved him at all. Even if I had known the tragic end, I think I would still do everything all over again; well maybe not the part where I show up late to the first day of work.
Today I sit back in my office looking at his empty cabin wondering how a part of Mike was always in a wheelchair, handicapped by his own flaws, yet another part of him smelled the gardenias. He was not a saint, but that didn’t stop us from loving each other. You know how they say,
“You can close your eyes from the things you don’t want to see but you can never close your heart from the things you don’t want to feel”.
__END__
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SOURCE BY-AHELIKA
PUBLISHED BY-OURHELLO.COM
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