Projecting the Wild Man

Yes, I was married before for two years before we decided to divorce and part our ways amicably. That was to put it nicely. In reality it was he who wanted out. He bailed on me despite our vows to love each other till death do us part. He just did not love me anymore, he said. There was no third party. He was just bored with me. I had missed him so much. That was why I needed something challenging now. Too much time was wasted thinking of Ben. I was also bored with my job and life. No wonder my ex-husband was also bored with me.

"I am here now to be your personal assistant. I will try my best to help you. I would like to know my job function so that I could perform my duties efficiently." I said.

He managed to speak decently to me for the first time, albeit still with that touch of arrogance.

"And sitting on my files is something efficient?" He asked.

His eyes searched mine. I gasped at the greenery in his eyes. It seemed like there was a lush rainforest in there. From the depths of anger, they seemed to have dissipated into an unknown emotion. A mystery it was to me. Just like the untamed tropics.

He laughed suddenly. His laugh filled the room. They were deep resonating rubbles which he did not try to control. It was a very natural laugh. He was truly at ease with himself when he was laughing.

Oh well, he was laughing at me. I somehow amused him now. From being very angry to very amused with his new assistant. At least I could claim credit for making a person angry one second and bawling his head off the next.

Yet unknowingly, he had this effect on me. He made me feel the same way. He just looked so funny and adorable. He made me laugh too after a while. My wall of resistance broke down. I forced myself to be serious but I just could not. I was laughing with a rigid spasm in my stomach. I was all light-headed now. In fact we both were.

How long has it been since I last laughed like that? Not since the divorce, and that was two years ago. I had smiled and laughed politely, with palms moving up to my mouth to stifle my laugh but never throwing myself all out. I could not control myself now. This was weird. Control check required, I told myself.

In between laughs, I tried to talk. To at least explain that I was efficient.

"I thought you wanted me to sit on your files. After all, they were on your chair. I was trying to be as quick as I could." I said.

"You mean as efficient as you could?" He retorted, laughing still.

"Well, I guess. I didn't want to waste your time. The files had collected dust. They looked like they were part of the chair." I said.

"Oh, you silly Ana. Ana. Ana. First you had issues with my door, and then with my chair. Let's hope that you do not have further issues with anything that I own." He said my name repetitively; his hands reaching out to me once more.

I wanted to point out at that juncture that he did not own the door, the chair nor the entire office building we were in. It belonged to the city council. Yet I was wise enough not to say anything more. Case closed. What he owned was only practically himself there in the building. Well, I was really sure that I would not have issues with the man himself as soon as I figure him out. I would then tune my actions accordingly with his demeanour. I would be the perfect worker ever.

It seemed like he was going to pat my head like he did to an obedient German Shepherd.

I could see that he was quite expressive with his hands. He was always moving them. This was the second time albeit in a good mannered way compared to the first time when he wanted to yank me out of the chair.

Yet something stopped him again from doing that. I did not know what it was but he was then sober again. The deep merriment of the rainforest dance of his eyes brought winds of a placid evening that was about to simmer gently.

"Now let's talk about your work." He said.

His look ceased to have the mischievous gleam he had a few minutes ago.

I was amazed that he could go from one mood to the next without batting an eyelid. It just happened so sudden that his laughing self was all gone. Now he looked like he never had laughed all his life.

He explained my job functions to me. I was supposed to attend to all his correspondences and schedule his meetings. I was also to be his spokesperson and representative when he could not attend certain functions.

My job at that very moment was to answer a few official letters; mostly affirming that he was able to attend the opening ceremony of this or that building. After that, he said, he wanted me to come in again to get more work from him.

"Yes, Mr Grumption." I said automatically.

I gasped. It was so wrong on the first day of my job to call your boss a nickname you created for him within half an hour of meeting him for the first time.

His gaze on me rose a few notches; bordering on the intense again. He dropped his expensive fountain pen to the table. It made a loud clanking sound on the bright table. Did I not say already that it was the brightest thing in the room? I could only stare at the table. His expression would turn dark again, I was sure. I did not want to look at him if I could.

"Mr Wild, I meant." I said.

I exhaled deeply. Now I looked down on my sexy heels. Only thing was I did not feel so sexy now. In fact I never felt sexy at all in his office. I felt like the grandmother trying to decipher her ultra-modern grandchild.

It was then he touched me for the first time. I had no inkling of how swift he was. His fingers lightly brushed against my lower cheek and he lifted my chin ever so gently so that I would be face to face with him.

Looking up towards him, I saw him gazing down. Again those lush tropics in the world of his eyes were undecipherable.

"Mr Wild. I am sorry. I mixed you up with someone else." I said again, trying to justify myself for the blunder.

The pressure of his big palms on my chin made me feel like I was with Ben again. How long had it been since I was touched by a man like that? It was only two years. How much two years had done to a country bumpkin like me. I should be actively dating now that I have found a new job.

He let go of me.

"This other person you mixed me up with - is that really his name?" He asked.

His voice was now loud and clear. It was a command in actuality.

"Yes." I said, looking him straight into the eyes.

I wanted to be as natural as possible. According to some old book that I read, people who lie cannot look you into the eye. So eventhough I was lying, I looked at him straight into the eye. I knew what to do. I had to at act honest.

"Why are you staring at me? Are there chocolate stains on my face?" He yelled.

"Oh no. Not at all. I am just telling you that there is someone named Mr Grumption. He exists and he is just as real as you are. All flesh and blood." I mumbled.

I scrambled out of the room, feeling waves of feeling pour onto me. How come the technique did not work? That was a useless book. I was going to sue the author if I could.

I felt not a single feeling, but of many emotions. Curiosity, fear, excitement and anger. I could do so many things had I not controlled myself. For starters, I could have boxed him for being so rude. I could have also run away from him at the same time for yelling at me. God, I could have fawned if he complimented me. And how well could I have laughed if he laughed again.

My first day at work was a day I would never forget. I was given a room of my own. On the door of my office were the engravings of my full name, "Ana Pollock." Smaller engravings on the same piece of wood on my door were the words "Personal Assistant to the Mayor." I felt proud of it; seeing my name in wooden engraving. It must have been quite some work for the craftsmen to painstakingly chisel out minuscule pieces of wood just to make a signage.

I reminded myself to take home my signage if I did stop working here. I also wanted to set a good example to my successors as the first personal assistant who made positive changes. I knew beforehand that I was the first personal assistant he had ever had. Peter had told me so. Before I came, he did everything on his own. He only had a receptionist to answer the never-ending phone calls and a clerk who did the administrative work. The mayor's office in this city was really quite bare.

I liked my office. Although the furniture was similar to his room, mine had wide windows facing the rocky cliffs and the roaring sea at the opposite side of the lagoon. We were on the highest floor of the tallest building in town. It was the tenth floor and thus we towered above the other buildings in front.

I saw the rugged, jagged beauty of the landscape. The tide was high. I felt like I could even hear the faint sounds of waves hitting against the cliff. But it must have been my imagination. We were too far from the sea. There were at least three buildings in front of our location.

I answered the letters speedily. All three letters were answered within half an hour. Was I quick or what? It was part of my training to write defences to convince the judge of my client's innocence. This task of writing a few sentences barely caused me anything of intelligence. I never worked in a law firm because this city only had five law firms; all of which were already filled with enough budding lawyers to get around.

I wondered how long was reasonable enough to write those letters. I was also debating on whether or not I should immediately barge into his office like a star student. I decided to wait another half an hour. I looked out of the window and immersed myself in the scenery. I relaxed and calmed down. I was feeling alright now. I was feeling efficient.

So after thirty five minutes, that is with five minutes of resting, I knocked onto his office door and waited. His receptionist, Jenny, smiled. She was a sweet woman with long hair and a slim physic.

"Well, you were a good teacher." I told her.

When I did not hear his voice, I went in.

"Now what?" He growled, still studying his papers.

"I'm done with the letters." I said.

"Really? Let me see. Let me warn you Ana, that speed is not necessarily a good thing. You make mistakes if you do things too fast." He said.

"I see." I said, nodding.

At the same time, I handed him my answered letters.

He took a few minutes to go through every letter and every sentence in each of them.

"You're good. Give them to Nelly, the clerk." He said.

"Yes, I will. Thank you, Mr Wild." I replied.

"I'm writing a speech, Ana. I want to tell people that they can trust me. I'm due to give this speech tomorrow night at the Community Centre. I want to run for Governor. I'm done being mayor in this boring city. It does not deserve being called a city. Nothing ever happens." He said, clasping his palms together.

I carried the maple coloured prickly chair from the corner of the room to right in front of his table. I made sure that I did not lean back on the chair because of its shred-like wood fibres.

I saw scribbles of parts of speech on a variety of issues. Some parts were crossed out and others highlighted again and again.

"This is everything that I stand for." He said, spreading his hands all over the papers.

"I understand." I said.

"I just need to put it nicely in words so that people vote for me. You are not that naïve to know that this is how politics work, aren't you?" He said.

I shook my head.

"What does that mean? Do you shake your pretty head to mean that you disagree with me or what?" He asked.

"I agree with you, Mr Wild." I said.

"Good. I hope that we can form a good, working relationship. Peter was right to ask you to work for me. You were quick with those letters." He said.

This was the closest of a praise I got from him. I tried to supress a smile.

We were going through the pile of papers. We were silent as I read through the manifesto apparent through his draft speech. He was all for closing down small businesses to make way for retail outlets among others. He said it was about time.

While I was skimming through the long speech and he crossing out sections from another piece of paper, we heard a phone ring. Immediately I turned towards the phone on his table but it was not that phone. It turned out to be his mobile in his coat pocket.

He fished it out and said simply to whoever it was on the line, "I'll be there at one sharp. Don't worry." He said.

I saw him glance at his watch. It was already twelve.

He said to me, "I have to go. Important meeting."

I got up. He gestured to the papers on the table.

"Try if you can to compile the speech. Bring it to your room." He said, short and curt.

"Okay." I said.

The speech was indeed interesting. I spent the whole noon then working on his speech. It was much too late when I regretted modifying everything he wrote on paper. I essentially changed the whole speech. I did not realise that I was doing so. I just wrote from my heart what I would do if I were him and if I had authority as mayor. Changes that I would have made to the state.

I enjoyed it so immensely because everything I wrote was sincere and idealistic. I tried to incorporate his main ideas inside. I wrote that small businesses did not necessarily have to give way to retail stores and suggested a proportional system where there would be one retail store for every fifty small businesses in any given vicinity. I supported my ideas with urban geographical planning statistics. Regarding the issues of welfare and education, I added in his main point of strict regulation but softened it with a whole new lot of exceptions to the general rule.

Walking down memory lane of a past gone yet resuscitated, thinking back, I was not doing as he told me to. Basically all he wanted me to do was to tie up loose ends like correcting his grammatical errors, spelling mistakes and adding a few conjunctions here and there. But I could not bear to see his speech stand. It was not outstanding, in my opinion. He could be more than just what he said. He could really reach out to help people. That is the number one priority for any politician for me. He could make the system really work. He could be that great. I started to pour my aspirations onto him. I felt like I was living a greater life than I could possibly imagine.

One thing about me was that I wanted to make a difference to the world. Yet I still wanted comfort and security. This job was perfect for me. It let me stay in the background. So grumpy man or not, I would take him as a whole. Little did he realise what he did for me. He made me feel so alive again.

That night, before going to bed, I took out a little notebook and started writing.

"The Training of Mr Grumption into the Ideal Gentleman"

By Ana Pollock (mind you, I am proud of my surname despite the fishy connotation to it)

Day 1 - today is the first day of work. I have a very grumpy boss. Therefore his name derives from it.

Problem - How to stop his yelling

Solution - Can't think of any at this time...I am actually doodling Mr Grumption's grumpy face while writing this. Hmm...tell him that he looks ugly if he yells. That should do the trick. Although it is quite a lie. He is not ugly. He is just simply scary when he yells. Do indicate gently, by saying something witty every time he yells.

Satisfied, I went to bed with a big smile. I saw on my mobile that I had a few unanswered calls from Ben. I did not even realise that Ben called me today. I was too tired to bother. I would call him back tomorrow.

The next morning before going to work, I called my ex-husband. We had remained friends after our divorce.

"Ana, how are you doing?" He asked.

"Just started a new job." I said.

I was waiting to see what he wanted from me. He calls me now and then; most of the time to ask for help in financial matters. I had always seen him through. I could not bear to see him without security. Even during our marriage, I was the main wage earner. He liked to spend whatever he earned.

My family thought that he was a leach to rely on me. They said that it was perfectly acceptable for a woman to rely on a man but not otherwise. They always thought of ways to break us up. Ironic that in the end we did break up but it was him who dumped me and not otherwise. So the leech had wiggled away from the efficient body that provided blood.

I would like to add though that Ben always repaid what he borrowed although without interest. It may be months later; but nevertheless he does pay back.

"It's good to know that. You were quite bored with your old job." He said.

He asked me about my one day old job. I answered in short sentences; not elaborating much. I expected him to ask for money.

When he did not and we had already said our goodbyes, I asked; catching him before we hung off, "You can be frank with me. You need money again, don't you?" I asked.

There was a grim silence on the other end of the line.

"No, I don't need money. I just want to catch up with you." He said.

"Well, sorry I did not get that. When you call me, it's always about money." I retorted sharply.

"This time it's not. I realise what a fool I've been all these years. I never saved for a rainy day. I quit my job as and when I pleased, with no care what it did to my family." He said.

I bit my lips. He was going back into the past.

"Enough, Ben. The past is the past. After all, I always saw you through, didn't I?" I asked.

Boy, I was in this habit of saying nice things to him at my expense. I shook my head at my own instinctive reaction of pacifying him.

"I regret leaving you. It was the worst decision of my life." He said suddenly with passion.

"What?" I asked, incredulous.

We had been divorced for two years and suddenly when he is not borrowing money, he is professing great love to me. I did not believe it.

"I would like us to get back together. Would you like that, Ana?" He asked, now like an ardent lover.

This time I was silent. For the past two years, this was always what I wanted. But now when it came, I hesitated.

"I need time to think about it." I said.

I did love him still but I did not feel like getting back to him. Was it weird? I enjoyed my lifestyle now. I live alone in a house I rented and I have a nice maple tree at the back of the house where I lean against every evening. My parents are visiting me every other day and are happy with my progress although they are still scheming to get me a partner. According to their archaic thinking, after a divorce, my bankable marriage value was considerably lower than that of the regular single woman. But they did console me.

"Do you know that if you have kids, you're even worst off?" My mother said over dinner just last week.

They made me smile. They had the silliest ways of thinking about the world in my opinion. They were silly, but they were true. If I had kids, most men would shy away unless they really loved me. In a way, that was easier. Men who dated me knew they had to deal with my kids. That means that they showed more commitment.

The rest of the day was good. Mr Wild was not in so I could browse through his official manifesto for the coming elections. I was a sucker for good grammar. I just had to reword all the sentences and write it in a way I thought stood out. I saved it in my computer and planned to use it to help him in his campaign. His official manifesto would still stand but mine would run side by side with his; elaborating on his goals.

I passionately believed in his goals. They were considered radical by the conservative community though. I was all for change and modernization. I was all for speed now. Time and tide waits for no man, you know.