Projecting the Wild Man

"You are a role model to society, and I believe it is my business as your personal assistant to keep you in shape." I said.

I do not know how I did it then, but I turned my body to the side and hugged him tight. The thought of him dying, old or young nonetheless sent shivers to my spine. I thought of him as indestructible. People could come and go, but not him. He would stay long after they are gone. He was some sort of monument for eternity. He had etched that impression of himself in my mind.

He was taken aback at first, lifeless like a doll. A few moments later, I felt him enveloping his arms tight and warm around me. His touch took me by surprise, and I fidgeted. I had hugged him, yet the moment he reciprocated, I panicked. I was not used to displays of affection. I was always the one seeking affection and not the one receiving it. I was always used to being rejected and I somewhat expected no response from him. His embrace over me sent my heart lurching upwards to my throat.

I pushed him away abruptly. At the same time I realised it was weird and unprofessional. Adding it in to my list of propriety, I sat upright again.

"I'm sorry." I said, unable to look at him.

I reached for the car knob and opened the door. I cannot be alone with him. Before I got out, he yanked my left arm towards him.

"What are you sorry for?" He asked.

My heart beat thumped like crazy yet I felt they stopped at the same time.

"I changed your menu." I said softly.

I was sorry for hugging him, not sorry for altering his menu without his consent yet I could not say it.

He turned to look at me, and I saw that his eyes were as green as the lush rainforests. It was so deep, and I felt I should not pry in. Yet I did, and I searched for whatever I could find inside. I found some emotion but did not know what emotion he held within. It was subtle but present and glowing.

"I knew it was you, Ana. I had already called the restaurant. Apparently I'm now a health freak without even realizing it." He said in a deep voice.

"I will not do that again." I said.

"I wanted to see how you would react. And you're quite a bit of an actress!" He said.

"Actress?" I repeated.

"Why did you hug me?" He asked.

"I could not imagine you not being around." I said.

"What?" He asked.

"I'm sorry for... the hug." I said.

We were then both silent.

"Ana, I want to thank you for taking an interest in my health. But next time, do tell me first whatever it is that you are thinking about, okay?" He asked.

I nodded. We retired to our respective offices. I felt ashamed. I pinched myself to sleep that night for hugging him in the car. It was a totally prohibited zone. I should be more restricted next time, not like a child who has no second thoughts.

My idea of salt-free oven-baked fries got into his head. He had them since then and continues to have them up till today.

I worked hard and smart. I played by the same rules too. My days were always busy and my nights long. I wrote in the notebook chronicling my day at work and my plans in making him the perfect gentleman. Sometimes it was hilarious, sometimes taxing and sometimes just inspirational. He was becoming more and more ideal every day. I felt that there was no need to give him that gentle guidance anymore. I was comfortable with who he was. It did not mean however that I felt comfortable with him. Sometimes I felt tension between us. Sometimes I felt also the desire to knock myself in the head and not think too much about him.

Subconsciously I felt a deep attachment towards him. Consciously then I tried to avoid him now more often. In preparation for the coming elections, we have now ten people in the office from the original three - Jenny, Nelly and I. I now had two assistants of my own and I would ask them to report to Mr Grumption who would in turn relay his message to them for me.

I did however play with Puppy every weekend without fail. I wonder though if I was more attached to the dog or to the man. It was ironic because at work I would avoid him but come weekend, I gave the excuse that I wanted to play with Puppy.

We would be in his garden together. He would talk to me like an old friend. He would tell me stories about himself, his aspirations and his fears.

"Do you still distrust women?" I asked, one lazy evening.

He grinned broadly.

"I guess not all women are after power and money." He said.

"How about you and men?" He asked.

"It's the same. It is my choice." I said.

My eyes got a little misty. I wanted a loving relationship but I feared of having one.

"Why would you make such a choice? You are young, beautiful and intelligent. It's only natural to be with someone." He said.

"Why aren't you with anyone?" I asked.

At least I think he did not have any special person in his life.

"I actually have someone in mind but it's complicated." He looked at me, probing into my eyes.

My heart skipped a beat. I felt blood drain off my face, turning me ghastly pale.

"Are you alright?" He asked.

I could feel the concern in his voice. His palms pressed against mine. I let it stay there.

"I hope things turn out fine for you and Lisa." I said.

I hoped that woman will eventually get a divorce from her husband. Had I not warned him months ago to be careful? He would eventually fall deeper into his own doings. He would, by all means, fall in love with her.

"You thought that I meant Lisa?" He asked in a soft voice.

"Yes. Because you said it was complicated. Knowing you, you breeze through life easily unless it was something beyond your control." I said.

"It's her, isn't it?" I asked again.

When he did not answer, I let go of his grasp on mine.

"I've known you long enough and I am concerned for you. You should at least ask her to divorce her husband if she loves you as much." I said.

He did not answer but stared right into the empty space in front of us. It was not exactly empty space, but it was miles ahead before anything blocked our view. He had a big house in the suburbs of our already little city. It was akin to a log cabin I thought. We had the mountain view and we could see the sunset. It was setting now.

The subtle hues were engaging. I loved the lavender floating with the sky blue creating a dark mysterious shade of violet. Orange peppered itself in the sky, making it spicy and delectable as if it was a meal. Yellow and green mixed at the foreground at the mountain tops. I made a vow to myself to climb those mountains before my strength gave way. They were a tourist attraction but I had never attempted the climb because of work. Come weekends, I always went to Mr Grumption's place. I never missed a weekend and he was always at home during weekends. It seemed he never went anywhere on Saturday and Sunday as if he was waiting for me. Oh, what idealistic thinking I had.

I did not question more. Then he spoke, his voice a little shaky. It was the brilliant beauty of today's sunset. It was a few days into summer. Thus the blazing colours got right into his heart after a dreary, harsh winter.

"I can never anticipate your thought system, Ana. As a politician, albeit a small town one, I thought I was good at studying people. I almost knew for certain what they were going to say. But you, Ana, I can never anticipate what you were going to say all the time. From the first day I met you. Remember how you sat on my files? How you banged my door? Yet all the things you did for me - they were also unpredictable. But very welcomed. You made me see aspects of life transcending over work which I have never seen before. Like I got a pet. I know I did it because I wanted to. But somehow you played a role. You made me like animals. I don't know how you do it. You are like a fairy with a magic wand. You have enchanted me." He said.

I glanced to his side. He was gazing at those hues of colour. I turned to look as well. So magical, so lovely. I felt like if my breath were to be the last, let it be during the setting sun. It was also symbolic in my opinion. I was a hapless romantic deep inside the mechanical clockwork I was in daily life.

We were on a long wooden bench. Puppy was hopping madly about wanting to play with us. But I did not feel like running after Puppy today. The beautiful view made us feel the same. We were rooted to the bench.

I looked at him from the side view. The sun was shining on his blond hair, making it look golden. His hair was ruffled. He never bothered to comb it during weekends. But he looked rugged. He looked the part here sitting by a wooden bench by his log cabin. Almost a log cabin. You see, he was that powerful to transform my thoughts now.

I moulded my world onto him. Maybe it was a way of leaving my legacy behind as I could not achieve. I saw those lush rainforest eyes blink a few times. During times of sunset, his eyes had the thickest rainforest imbedded that I have ever seen. His eyes glowed like Heaven. I wanted to be part of that, and I feel, in my own small way, that I already was. I counted myself fortunate to have known him.

For almost a year now, my life had been turned upside-down by him. I was happier, madder, crankier and sadder. I was feeling bouts of emotion like a barrel. Each emotion came and went as quickly as it came but it left a dent in me. Sometimes I coloured that dent with rainbows, sometimes I scarred it with tissues. Then there were those times that I did nothing at all to those dents. I was like a car driving forward in a hail storm. Ice balls were hitting me. Shrapnels some of them. They were either painful or irritating to bear or even both. Yet there were also those rounded snowballs like hail formations which intrigued me so. Like a snowflake almost. These were beautiful and well worth the hit.

Everything was an approximate now. Things were no longer in black and white. Seasons were no longer the four archaic ones known to me before. There was a transition period of gain or loss. There were no rights and no wrongs. It was only thinking which made it so.

I had my own standards due to my one of a kind conservative upbringing. I do not blame my parents nor do I thank them. I think this was just the way that life shaped me, and through its shaping, it was the way I began to look at myself.

I wanted to tell him then what an imposing silhouette from the side he had. He would beat the Queen's side figure anytime. He had this big nose which protruded out. It was not sharp, rather blunt in fact but big. I guess he took in everything he could, even fresh air to the maximum capacity of his lungs.

I giggled. I wonder if I should tell him because he said I was unpredictable. All the fun to keep our friendship memorable and sprayed with witty conversations. Well then, I would be an enigma to him. Yet he did not realise or maybe he probably does; that he was also an enigma to me.

I laughed. I let go. I felt light and cheerful.

"Pray, Mr Wild, tell me what you think I am thinking about now?" I asked him.

"You are laughing when I was in serious talk. How on earth would I to know? I was saying that you and I..." He lifted his hands in desperation.

"I'll tell you, Mr Boston Wild. I will. You have such a striking silhouette. Your nose stands out. You will look remarkable on coins. The Queen would be put to shame!" I said.

"What?" Was all he said.

"That's what I was thinking about. Well, at least the end conclusion of what I was thinking about." I said.

"Oh, you...what you meant to say was that my nose stands out like a sore thumb!" He laughed.

"Oh no. You're unconventionally handsome. You have the most beautiful nose I know." I said.

I was now serious. I was not calling him ugly. I meant it in a nice way. I liked his rugged features complete with stubble. His skin was rough. But it was not noticeable because his eyes were captivating. He did not have any marks on his face other than that. I think that was why women voters were attracted to him.

"Well, didn't know you could be a sweet talker." He said, turning to me.

It was then I lost some rigid control on myself. I had told myself no physical contact unless he initiates it, meaning that he had to touch me first, which was quite often these days. Either a hug, a handshake or arms around my shoulders when we crossed the road - why, he thought I could not cross the road properly.

I reached out now without apprehension. I touched that enormous chunk of nose of his. Lightly, I brushed my fingers from ridge to nostril.

"I mean it when I said you had the most beautiful nose I know. Don't doubt me." I said.

He was rigid all the time. His hands were on his thighs. That was good. He was not touching me. I released my hands from his nose. I felt a little embarrassment and strangely much disappointed.

"I have never doubted you. After all, you are efficient. Even when you touched my nose. Like I've said earlier, I don't know what to make up of you on top of that." He said.

I felt ashamed then. I took leave and left although he asked me to stay for dinner. The sun had now set. Night fell and enveloped me in its entirety. I felt as dark as the night. Making my way home, my mind was in a muddle. I did not know where to start thinking from. I had to stop that once and for all. Yet how many times have I told myself that?

That memorable night, I regretted my actions of touching his nose. It was quite intimate. Friends should never cross the line. I already felt that as boss and assistant, we had crossed the line long ago. I overlooked that. I justified myself by saying that it would be good for our working relationship.

As time did its course, our relationship had unravelled in ways I could not have imagined. What I knew I needed was simplicity again. I wrote in the notebook for the very last time that night.

"The Training of Mr Grumption into the Ideal Gentleman"

By Ana Pollock (ashamed to have been going too far onto the Grumption Project)

Day 300 - Mr Grumption and I spent the weekend together again. We talked serious, and then light and then serious again. This is driving me insane.

Problem - I'm not sure. Somehow I am no longer training him. It feels like it has backfired. He has inserted his microchip and patented it into me. I go to bed thinking of him. I dream of him. I think I am infatuated with him.

Solution - Do not visit Mr Grumption anymore during weekends. If I do want to play with Puppy, then I should get my own pet. If I die, then I'll just give the dog to him.

I was frank and blunt with myself. It was the first time I came to terms that I might be seriously head over heels with him. He was as good as married. He loved Lisa although she was with another man, and despite the fact that he rarely met her. He was thinking of her still all this while. I was there to fill in his time. I was his outlet for boredom. He amused himself with me and did as he pleased when he was with me because I knew him so well. It was an oxymoron. Sometimes I felt like I knew him, but in reality he was an enigma to me. I think it was because I accepted him finally for who he was without pretension. I was honest with him. I was prim and proper with him. I was everything with him. I was like a yoyo. No wonder he did not know me. Maybe it was the same for the both of us. We mirrored each other's emotions.

After that weekend, I never visited him again. I told him that I was getting back together with Ben. It was true that I spent my time with Ben but I was fifty-fifty about us being together again.

I told Ben that about my medical prognosis and showed him my medical records. I told him that doctors gave me up to two years to live. I had roughly another year to go. Ben refused to accept the fact that I was going soon. He asked me to get a second opinion. I refused. This matter I was stubborn about.

"I have done enough research to know that nothing is going to help me. It is fatal. No known cure yet. I don't want to waste time." I said.

"Is that why you never got back to me even when I wanted to? Because you were thinking of me?" Ben asked.

There were tears in his eyes. I could not bear to see him like that. I hugged him tight.

"Not entirely. I am a very confused person. I don't know what I'm up too. I have no concrete plans. I only know I want to live my life to the fullest until the last day. I am like a yoyo now. I used to be very efficient. Now I'm an efficient yoyo." I said.

It could have sounded hilarious but it was a serious conversation.

"Then spend your time with me. It does not matter if you don't want to get back with me. Let's just enjoy each other's company." Ben pleaded with me.

He embraced me now. He moved his hands up and down my back, my hair and my face. We kissed in the moonlight. He took me to bed, and we slept together that night. It was the first time in three years.

Because he used to be part of me and I knew him well, it felt satisfying. It felt heavily languid. But it did not feel entirely right. It never had, even when we were married. I was not lost in it totally. I thought one should be able to abandon all other thoughts. All I could abandon except thoughts for Mr Grumption. Ben sensed that I was uncomfortable with the arrangement and he let me be. We did however now spend our weekends together.

Mr Grumption became his old grumpy self again. He was acting up. I tried to help him in my own ingenious way. I went to see Lisa. To my surprise, she denied that they had a relationship anymore. She said that it ended when I came into the picture. Instead she threw a tantrum and slapped me across the face.

"Look, I don't know what went wrong with you and him. But you can't just come here and blame me for it. After all, you stole him from me, you witch!" She screamed at me together with a whole lot of obscenities.

I staggered out of the dining area of the restaurant with a swollen face and with a sickening thud. I felt bad. I felt despair. I felt madness numbing me.

Did he love me? Did my dear Mr Grumption love me? Did he mean me all the time but I was just too blind to see, or just refused to see because I feared? And when I did fear, was it because I was dying or was it because I feared love? It was both, I told myself - all the more complicated.

I walked back into the dining area. I was recklessly unstable.

"What do you mean? He said he loved you. It was complicated with you. He was never with me. He was just miserable lately, thinking about you!" I shouted at Lisa myself.

I felt now the sting of her slap. I wanted to slap her too. An eye for an eye. I moved forward and managed to manoeuvre a slap. Yes, I did slap her and it was as hard as she did on my face. Strong currents were inside me. If I lived my life again, I never want to feel this again. This was horrible, thinking back. I had never engaged in violence before.

And then, there were the blinding flashes of photographs taken. We both turned and saw a paparazzi scramble away from us.

"Damn! We are in a restaurant." Lisa ran towards the photographer.

I ran too. How we both ran. Two women in high heels and short pencil skirts chasing a man in loose pants and comfortable sneakers. By the time we got out of the restaurant, we did not know which way he ran.

"I'm a public figure. You know who my husband is." Said Lisa.

"They won't know what we were arguing about. No one knows about him, don't they?" I asked.

She looked at her then gritted her teeth.

"I guess you covered it well for us the last time." She said.

"I did." I said.

From squabbling earlier and creating a scene in the restaurant, we sat down together in a serious meeting. We figured out if the photos do surface in the media, we would have to show a united front and not say different things. We wanted to standardize our answers. Our conversation about Mr Grumption was long forgotten.