Projecting the Wild Man

"No, I was thinking about the general scheme of life. Complex yet fleeting. By the way, Mr Wild, I like being your assistant. You are like my shell." I said.

"Shell?" He asked.

"Yes. I like to be doing something big, but I like to retreat for comfort. This is the perfect job for me." I said.

We both smiled at each other. It was like we have reached an understanding.

I wrote faithfully in the notebook every other day still. Sometimes I did manage to get him to change. Sometimes I failed but it did not matter anymore. He was becoming more presentable. He was becoming the ideal gentleman. I saw myself live through him. I saw light at the end of the tunnel.

A month after we got Puppy, we were busy working on a political debate with his only opponent, Tristan Goldman. He was confident he would win as he did have the gift of the gab if he used it. Being the concerned assistant, I wanted to make sure that he was fully prepared.

That night on the Yes versus No debate, the ballroom of Essex Hotel was packed like sardines. It was on this day which I met Jack. He was a journalist. He was reporting on the debate. He was witty, he was funny. He said the right things to make me amused. He awed me with his knowledge in current affairs and music. Yes, I was an ardent lover of classical music. Something which most of my friends did not like. Mr Grumption did not take to classical music at all. He called it "music which bored me to death." However his piano playing showed otherwise. He contradicted himself without realising it.

By the end of the night, he had asked me out for a date. I said yes immediately. Here I was, feeling all crazy and wild because Mr Grumption had won the debate by ten points. He was that good. I had helped him in the details. I felt proud of myself too.

When he went on stage to acknowledge his win, he said, "There is one woman in this room whom I very much like to thank. Without her support, I would not have been standing here today."

His gaze hit me sharp. It was almost painful to bear. Yet I was ecstatic. He must have definitely meant me. There was no other woman who helped him in the preparation of the debate, was there not?

He rushed towards me from the stage. He gave me a big bear hug. I hugged him as tight as I could. I let myself get carried away just this once. Letting go was difficult but I pulled away first. Yet my dear Mr Grumption held on to my hands.

"Mr Wild, I'll like you to meet Jack. He works for the Independent." I said, remembering now that Jack was beside me, lying low while watching us.

"Hello Jack. Pleased to meet you. I'm doing an interview tomorrow at the press conference at ten." He told Jack.

He extended his hands to Jack. Both men shook hands. See how I managed to get him to shake hands too eventually. Far cry from the first day I met him.

"I was just telling Ana how smart she was to be working for an equally smart man like you. I must be very lucky for I have mustered enough courage to ask her out on a date." Jack said, smiling at Mr Grumption.

"Date?" Mr Grumption looked at me with that lush rainforest vortex in his eyes. Now and then, he had some active expression which I could not understand. This expression was like a dormant volcano which erupted with unchecked emotional lava. I do not know if he was surprised, angry, cynical or disbelieving.

"Yes. Don't worry. No talking about you to him. It's just about me and him." I said, trying to pacify him. He thought that I would give away his secrets about Lisa. Frankly other than that secret, I had nothing. Perhaps I knew too much already then that I was so used to his peculiarities. I did not see them as weird anymore. I saw him as just being simply him. There was nothing that I wanted to change about his core character, as I felt it was uniquely him, but there was a lot I wanted to change about the way he did things. Thinking back, I spent my weekend evenings at his place. I saw him at work every day. Was it not enough to know a person well enough?

Mr Grumption growled then at me, showing displeasure.

"You do not date journalists." He said.

"I do now." I said.

I did not care whether it was rude or otherwise. I did not know if it was an order or whether he was just saying that I had never dated journalists before. I felt the need to prove something to him. To show him that I had a life outside work too. It came upon me, hitting like a rod of lightning that I spent too much time at work. Even during weekends, I was at my boss's place looking after the puppy called Puppy. Technically it was also considered work although it was relaxing.

Jack looked at the both of us and came to an understanding of his own.

He said to me, patting me on the shoulder, "Let's go, Ana. I'll take you somewhere special tonight."

He glanced over at Mr Grumption. The grumpy man was seething with irritability.

"Mr Wild, I am going now. You know you can trust me. I don't discuss politics with people whom I date too. I don't mix business with pleasure." I said, trying to reassure him.

After all, was it not the term they always use?

I would have felt bad if he was in any negative emotion. His moods, for better or worse, always influenced me. This I had to deal with properly. I had to have more grip on myself.

Jack and I left for supper at a quaint little café a few blocks away from the hotel. He was such an intelligent companion to be with. His conversation was peppered with witty quotations from philosophers and economists. He also said the silliest things imaginable. It was like he was trying so very hard to impress me.

I was amazed more at his eagerness to please me that my heart softened for him.

"You know that we are just flirting, right?" I asked.

I was not looking for a serious relationship. I was taking this up from Mr Grumption. He lived his life to the fullest by having escapades with married women. If he could do that, so could I. Only better. Jack was not married and I was far beyond marriage.

"Well, let's make the most of it then shall we? I find you incredibly irresistible." Jack asked.

I giggled. Such compliments were lacking in my life.

"You're nice to be with; that's for starters." I said.

That night, Jack sent me home. I had too much to drink. I was a totally different person when I drink. It was the first time that I got properly drunk. Strange enough, I did not remember drinking that much at all. Maybe I just did not have the stomach for alcohol.

The next day, I woke up late. Jack must have left sometime in the morning. I knew he stayed because I recalled him saying he wanted to make sure I was all right before he left. I was sleeping like a baby in the bedroom while he made himself at home in the living room watching television.

I jolted up and looked around me. I was clad still in the clothes I wore for the debate. Recollections of last night flooded back to me. I did not remember much, only that I was so sleepy and yes, properly not sober, by the time I got home. I wondered what Jack must have thought about me. He must be laughing silly. I do not know if he would keep up with me. Did I fascinate him enough for a few more dates?

My head was heavy but my heart was beating to a dozen. I did not feel well. What time was it? I looked at the clock and shrieked. It was already noon. This was terrible. I had to call work.

I walked to the living room where my mobile phone was still in my handbag. I noticed that I had ten calls this morning, all from work. Before I could dial the office, the doorbell rang. I staggered towards the window with phone in hand. It was Mr Grumption over the fence. He looked agitated and out of sorts.

Panic filled me. My mobile rang. I jolted. It seemed so sudden. I decided not to go out to unlock the gate for him. I was in such a mess. I probably reeked of alcohol, although I could not smell it on myself.

I pressed the receive button on the phone. I braced myself for the attack. I did not turn up at work. I did not call the office to inform them.

"Ana, are you alright? How are you? Why are you not at work?" Mr Grumption asked, in a voice deeper than usual.

I looked at him from behind the curtains. He was standing outside, looking at the house and at my car. He did not see me for I cleverly hid beside the windows.

"I'm sick today. I'm sorry I did not call." I said.

"It's alright. Are you at home? Did you see a doctor?" He asked.

"No. I just got up." I said, before pinching myself. I did not want him to come in.

"I'm outside your house. Let me check if you're okay." He said.

"I'm fine. I just need to pop in some paracetamol and then I'll get better." I said.

"Since I'm here Ana, just open the door. Now." He did not yell at me nor get angry, but his voice was strained.

There goes my professionalism. Without touching up on my appearance or brushing my hair, I walked out and unlocked the gate for him.

"Mr Wild." I said.

"Ana." He said, immediately putting his arms around my shoulders.

"Your body is warm." He said.

"I feel cold." I replied.

Inside the house, I was unsure what to do with him. My headache was now worse and I felt very low. My thoughts were in a turmoil. If Jack had stayed a little while longer, I would not have needed to deal with Mr Grumption.

I stopped in the hallway. His arms were still around my shoulders.

"What do you want to do?" I asked him.

"Make you something to eat." He said.

I lead him to the kitchen, and then I went to the bedroom. My energy level was low; maybe time was catching up on me the second time. I lay on the bed and must have slept without realizing it.

I did not know how much time had passed when I opened my eyes again. Instantly I felt cold.

Mr Grumption was beside me on my dressing table chair.

"Have some chicken soup." He said.

He had a bowl of soup and a spoon in his hand. He brought the spoon towards my lips.

Because I felt so lethargic, I complied. I paid attention only to the spoon which came to my lips. I did not notice anything else.

I shivered. I still felt cold inside.

Mr Grumption took off his sweater and dressed me like a child. Then he gave me a pill and asked me to swallow it. I obeyed him. Normally I would be suspicious as I do not trust anyone who gives me pills. I detest doctors - the profession but not the person itself.

I felt afraid to be left alone now that I found it was nice to have company. Propped up by his strong arms against the bed post with my fluffy pillow, I felt vulnerable.

"Will you stay with me?" I asked, my voice barely in a whisper.

My hands managed to find his and clung on to them.

"I'll stay with you until you're better. Just get well soon. That is most important of all." He said.

It was very comforting to hear him say that. In between the drowsiness, sleep and high fever, I tried to talk to keep him by my side, so that he would not get bored with me.

"Mr Grumption, stay with me. I don't feel good. It makes me afraid." I repeated the invented nickname while tossing in bed like a pancake. My body was still so cold.

"I'm not Mr Grumption, but I'll stay with you." Came his soothing reply.

"Who is he? Shall I call him?" He asked.

"Who?" I asked hoarsely.

"Mr Grumption." He said.

His voice was mellow. He was very serious.

Yet I thanked my lucky stars that he did not realise that he was Mr Grumption.

"Call Ben, please." I said.

Even through the high fever, I had to do damage control. I felt like I would give something more away, which I already did, and which I was sure to regret later.

Mr Grumption did call Ben on my mobile. My ex-husband arrived an hour later. I heard both men talk in low voices. I did not catch any of it. I was quite delirious. I whimpered and breathed heavily. I saw blurred images of both men. I felt hands caressing me on my face and hands holding mine. I did not know which hands belonged to whom. After some time, I fell asleep.

By evening, my fever had already subsided. Both men were still in the house. I saw my parents. It was their visiting day. They took over from there. My mother was smiling her head off because she told me, even when I was in no condition to listen, that I was lucky to have two men to choose from. I ignored her.

The next morning, I was weak and moody. I had still a slight fever and embarrassed recollections of the past two days. I behaved like a weakling which I did not like. I thought also of Jack. He did not even call. My dignity was crushed by that.

I was well enough to return to work three days later. I went straight to Mr Grumption's office. He had called twice a day to check on me and visited me in the evenings. I felt that a thank you was due. I had earlier thanked Ben for his care. Ben was ecstatic. I thought perhaps I could continue a relationship with him but with him knowing about my current situation since we were husband and wife before. Because of all the love we had shared in the past, it makes up for something in the present.

"Mr Wild, I appreciate that you have been concerned about me the past three days." I said.

His gaze on me was unwavering. He fiddled with his pen.

"Your Mr Grumption - Ben - loves you a lot." He said.

He waited for me to say something, and when I did not, he continued, "Are you getting back with him?" He asked.

I bit my lips.

"I'm thinking of it because of the two years of marriage which we shared." I said.

It was the truth. I was the only one who was conflicted. I enjoyed my single life too much.

As the days went by, the polls showed that he was leading the other candidate by a high margin. I was glad. By the end of the year, when elections are held, surely he would win big.

One of my simplest tasks was to order his lunch for him on his busy days. To my surprise, Mr Grumption, the up and about man of the moment, was indeed a chronic simpleton when it came to food. He always requested for the same food everyday. He needed to have French fries. It was his staple. It did not matter if it was French fries with chicken breasts, fish fillets or pork chops. The one constant which stood out was French fries.

I was to order food for him. I ordered as he told me to. After two weeks of French fries, I phoned the caterer at the restaurant. It had passed my endurance rate to see it go on this long.

"I was wondering if your chef could do oven-baked or steamed fries instead of the usual fried. Mr Wild is going on a diet." I said.

The caterer answered, "Steamed fries are awfully soggy and lumpy. Oven-baked fries are possible." He said.

"That's good." I said.

"Also do the fries salt-free. Add more salad on the side." I added, taking advantage of the opportunity to introduce a healthy diet for Mr Grumption.

The following week, he was served with salt-free oven-baked fries with lots of salad on the side. On this particular day, he was having a working lunch with a few councillors. I had to serve all of them at the table as I had specially picked out his menu. Otherwise I would have allowed Jenny to help me out. The rest, including me, would be having regular fries while he would have the healthier less oily alternative.

I usually had my lunch with Jenny and Nelly, and I tried to avoid all oily high-fat food. So I decided to indulge in tasty fries today as I was required by my grumpy employer to sit in for this lunch meeting.

The councillors commented on the tasty dish of pork chops, French fries and Greek salad.

"I find the pork chops tasty enough, but are you sure the fries are good? It seems tasteless." Mr Grumption asked Mr Hans, the councillor seated beside him.

He was half way munching through a French fry and looking rather perturbed.

"Tasteless? Good gracious, no. They are too salty for my liking." Said the serious Mr Hans.

This old man was not prone to telling jokes. Mr Grumption's eyebrows twitched.

He asked Mr Grusher, the councillor on his left, the same question.

"Delicious. Just like Mc'donalds." He said.

Mr Grumption looked baffled.

I looked down at my servings of food. It was as though lightning stroke in my heart. I kept my fingers crossed that he would not question me.

He did not and I was pleased. I thought all was going on well until he told me that he was going to have a word with the caterer.

"I feel that my French fries are tasteless three past three weeks. These fries are the ones that keep my energy level up. I don't understand what had happened to the chef of the restaurant to make me such lousy fries on the tax payer's account! I'm going to the restaurant to have a personal word with him. Sometimes you have to do it face to face to get what you want." He growled at me.

I rose from my seat immediately.

"I'll tell the chef." I said, grabbing my car keys from my drawer.

"Let's go together then, Ana. Since you are so enthusiastic, you might as well drive us there." He said, smiling.

"Now, I wouldn't mind being driven around by my personal assistant, no?" He asked.

He was in a good mood today, thankfully. Yet I had to deal with this subtly so as not to give myself away.

"This is a relatively simple task. Shall I go on your behalf? You still have a meeting to prepare for." I said.

"Wow, now she is bossing me around." Mr Grumption said.

"I wouldn't dare, Mr Wild but I get nervous when I drive with passengers." I said.

It was true but not as contingent to the fact that I did not want him speaking to the chef.

"Then you have to learn to face your fear, haven't you?" He drawled rather languidly.

I inhaled deeply. How was I to get myself out of this mess? I should not have bothered about his salt intake in the first place. Why did I even care? I was too good a person I guess.

He eyed me very politely and earnestly. I felt uncomfortable. Then he beckoned me out of the office to the elevator and the car park in the basement of the building.

My mind was reeling. Many thoughts skimmed through my mind but none coherent. I did not want to confess to him that I had asked the caterer who in turn instructed the chef to serve him salt-free oven fries. I felt that he would kill me, not literally of course, but he would be very mad at me.

I was already in the driver's seat while he was beside me. I could not start the car.

"Do you know that salted deep fried French fries are unhealthy if eaten on a daily basis? Unsalted oven baked fries are the healthier alternative to that." I said.

I blurted out like a mother to her five year old kid who is experimenting with junk food consumerism.

He turned towards me, exaggerated a smile and nodded his head.

"That's what the chef has been cooking for you. If it' healthier for you, are you willing to give it a try?" I asked.

"Ana, I believe I had given it a try already, yet truly, do you think a man my age has liberty to decide what he wants to eat?" He answered.

His eyes had a mischievous glint. It was strange.

"Naturally." I said.

"Is there anything that you would like to tell me?" He asked.

From the look in his eyes, I knew that he knew it was I who had messed up his menu.

I bit my lips. I confessed.

"I'm sorry Mr Wild. I told the restaurant that you were on a diet and was going to start eating healthily. I believed it was for your own good. You had the same staple fries every day since who knows. I felt you would die young if you continued with this. Research has shown that people who consume a diet high in salt and oil live ten years shorter than their healthier counterparts. I can show you the research if you want. " I said.

"It's none of your business if I die younger than you think I should, isn't it?" He asked in a serious tone.

The schoolboy glint in his eyes were now gone and replaced by a darker expression. I gazed at him, surprised.