Projecting the Wild Man

Then I walked with Mr Grumption to his office. He held the paper in one hand. I saw on his table that there were other daily newspapers stating more or less the same thing. Because it was totally my notebook. Every word was regurgitated. Even my doodles of Mr Grumption's grumpy face were shown. Excerpts of the notebook were selected. Different papers selected different parts. All of it highlighted how I sought to change a Mr Grumption into the Ideal Gentleman.

It was obvious and plain for the world to see that Mr Grumption was Boston Wild, Mayor of our city who was running for Governor in a few months' time.

As one political analyst commented in his article,

"How could we have faith in the rising Boston Wild when even his campaign manager had not an inch of faith in him? Ana Pollock took it upon herself to train him; to go even as far as to write whole speeches for him, divert his attention from married women, get him a pet, softened his approach in everything he did and even the most, mundane basic thing of all - trained him to shake hands!"

The more sensational papers drew their own conclusions and stated that I was arguing with Lisa because I wanted her to get a divorce from her husband so that she could marry Mr Grumption. They had this part true but the truth hurt. They say that the truth will set you free. Did it set me free? On the contrary. It chained me to the past.

"The wimpy Boston Wild could not muster enough courage to ask Lisa Holden, wife of the oil tycoon Patrick Holden, for a divorce from her husband. He had to rely on his assistant to do it. He escaped the bad press and made her the scapegoat. When questioned about his assistant's catfight with Lisa Holden, he gave no comment as his answer but added that the two women had already sorted out the issue, meaning that he did already know about it."

The sharpest sting about me came from Jack himself in the Independent.

"From meeting Ana Pollock, I had no qualms about her making it big in the political world herself. Yet she held back, refusing to bask in the limelight. Instead she became the dutiful mastermind of Boston Wild's political career. She was efficient, no doubt. She covered her tracks, making everything seem to emanate from Boston himself. She even got herself entangled into Boston's love life. She just refused to stop. What is her ulterior motive ultimately? Or perhaps Boston Wild was just playing dumb since he had such an efficient campaign manager, not to mention one who looks good in a cocktail dress. Who knows in what other ways she helped him in that."

I could barely bring myself to look at him. He looked haggard and lifeless. He did not seem to want to say anything to me either, except to look at me. The lush rainforest in his eyes appeared drained. Deep still they were, only that it was a dark pitch of teary waters which pulled me in.

Looking at him hurt me a lot. I would rather that he be angry and shout at me. I would rather that he be his grumpy self.

"How could Jack had done this to me? You remember him? The journalist at the Yes Versus No debate. We just went out for one date. He must have drugged me too. I don't know. I was sick the next few days. He never called back." I said.

"My notebook was still with me when I checked the next night. He was quick with making copies with it." I said.

All this while, he just looked at me.

"Say something Mr Wild." I pleaded.

When he moved his lips to speak, his voice was trembling.

"I was only a project to you, wasn't I¬¬¬¬¬¬¬?" He asked.

"A project of training to excellence. Have you achieved that?" He asked me again when I tried to think of something plausible to say.

"No, it was not like that. Don´t misunderstand. The notebook excerpts that Jack had were only until the night of the debate. There was more of it." I said.

"So there was more training for me. I hoped that I had passed your exams." He said, with a blank look on his face.

"You don´t understand, Mr Wild. In the end, it was different. Yes, it started off as a project. I was bored and I had nothing better to do. So I did...so I wrote..." I said.

"Did I meet your standards? Was I ever, ever good enough for you?" He asked.

This time his eyes searched mine. They probed deeper and deeper. I breathed in deeply.

"That's not the point, Mr Wild." I said.

My voice had a forced accent. How could I explain nicely in words? It was complicated. I guess he was not good enough at the beginning but then he became good enough with time. And then it was more. It was not about training him.

"Then it became something more. It was like I was...you were..." I found it hard to continue.

"You started getting close to me because you wanted to change me into some ideal figure. But then, you were uneasy about us being friends, isn't it, because it was more than you bargained for. You wanted to do everything efficiently and quickly, and this one you could not without sacrificing your time for me. Friendship with me was a stumbling block." He said sadly.

"I was a project, wasn't I, Ana? Just answer me, please. I'm not angry. I'm not going to eat you up." He said.

That was precisely the point. He should be angry with me. Why was he not? If he was angry, I could have handled it. I could have pacified him. But he caught me off guard with his polite, deadpan questions.

I needed to be shouted at; yelled at. Most of all, I needed him to be grumpy. When he is all polite and sad now, I cannot function.

I was becoming him and he was becoming me. We were stepping into each other's shoes.

I was not a stubborn person. Yet this time I was. I refused to answer but I went on a barrage of attack instead. How could I do so? I did not know. If he wanted to think himself a project, so be it then.

"Yes, if you do think you're a project, then so be it. You deserved it. You were grumpy from day one. You yelled at me. You gave me a lousy chair to sit on. You did not shake hands with me. You had affairs. You were immoral. You made advances towards me..." I said.

"Ana!"

"You were a lousy mayor. You did not know how to act like the boss. You seduce married women! You called me to clean up the mess you made." I went on, attacking his character.

"It was mutual wasn't it not? If by advances you mean me touching you, didn't you do the same? It's only natural. We are friends. Friends do touch each other with friendly gestures. If you're so uncomfortable about it, you should have told me. Do you think that I meant something more with my actions?" He asked.

"No, I hope not. No, you couldn't have meant anything more. You and I are two different people, total opposites. No similarities. No, you don't like me that way. You don't, you never did." I said.

I was being irrational now. I was repeating myself, which I told myself never to do because I had seen him done so countless times in the past. I had detested it.

I was hyper-ventilating. I was in a panicky situation now. It was either fight or flight.

"Ana, calm down. Hush, calm down...everything is going to be alright. I promise. I will never hurt your feelings." He said.

He narrowed the distance between us. He lifted my chin up; like he did on the first and second day we met.

"Everything is going to be fine. You have my word. I am not angry. I am not vengeful. What I told you during that hotel dinner the second day I knew you was just crap. I am sorry." He said.

I sniffed. My heart beat even faster now that his warm fingers were on my chin.

"Breathe in and out. There you go. Slowly and gently." He said.

He was very calm. He did not look so lifeless anymore. All his attention was on me now.

I calmed down. My breathing became regular. I felt a slight sense of relief. I gazed into his eyes. I knew then from that moment onwards that he really cared for me. I just knew. He need not say it out loud. I was his as he was mine.

This realization grazed through my entire being gently and smoothly. I felt a closure of knowing. I felt some power cultivated from seedlings inside me. It grew into a lush rainforest. I wanted to protect him now that this magical rainforest had blossomed in me.

Being loved is so rich a feeling. It is a feeling of being complete, of knowing that your loved one would not harm you ever. He cared for me in his own way, grumpy or not. I felt an overwhelming unconditional love pouring from the depths of his eyes into my entire being.

Did he know that he loved me? I am sure he must have known, or if he did not know, he must have felt the intensity and vibrancy of a feeling he cannot take away.

Oh, did I love him then? I did, so very much...but I would not want to reciprocate. I feared the unknown, I feared not being in control, not being efficient.

"Dear Ana, were you living your political aspirations off me?" He asked.

"Yes." I said.

"It´s true then what they said in the papers." He said.

"Of course it´s not. It´s so one-sided that it´s trash." I said.

"There was much more to it. You know that, Mr Wild. We became friends." I said.

"No, it´s true. It´s all true Ana. I changed when you came. I changed into a different man. I did and it was all because of you!" He raised his voice with both palms drew a silhouette of me.

"You stood in my way for everything I did. You were always there for me, with me, in my thoughts, in my dreams." He said.

There was tension and chemistry between us in the room. It raged in us. I looked at the brightest thing in the room again. It was the table. I looked at his blond hair. It was now brighter than the table. Why was it relevant at that time? I did not know why I was making such comparisons.

"I did not outshine you. You were always the bright star. I stood behind you in every step. What I did was merely to expand your ideas. But they were yours. I merely worked on it. Your ideas were brilliant." I said.

"You could have outshone me. You're an enigma. Nothing has changed since the first day you stepped into my office." He said.

"What doesn't change, Mr Wild?" I cried.

He had calmed me down, now he was on the verge of making me cry.

I had wanted something to change. Whatever it was.

"What I think of you." He replied.

"What do you think of me, Mr Wild?" I asked softly.

His face became distorted. His facial muscles became rigid. He was controlling himself. He was fighting strong emotions.

"I think you're an exceptional woman. You're simply amazing. No one is like you, ever. You inspire me. You make me reckless. It's no good for me. It's just me. You turn my life upside down. It's not your fault. It's all mine. Ana, I let myself go." He said.

"There's nothing wrong with that, Mr Wild." I said.

"It's not a matter of wrong or right, Ana. It's more than that." He said.

"What is more than that?" I asked.

"I do not wish to talk about it right now." He said.

"But you called me to your room to talk about it." I said.

"I wanted to talk about that notebook of yours. I know that it is indeed your notebook and the news was not fabricated. Then the conversation went off-course." He said.

I was a walking blunder at that time. I did not want to pry that elusive golden thread from him, but I did. Dear God, I did not want him to say anything which I had no desire to act upon, yet my blasphemous actions indicated otherwise.

I was leading him to a trap. I was setting myself as bait. In the end, we were both going to be trapped. It beats me why I was doing this to us. I cursed and swore at myself. I was a wreck.

I walked out of the room, trying not to cry. I went back to my office as professionalism dictated. In the middle of the day, I found out from efficient Tim that Jack was working all this while as an advisor for Tristan Goldman in the elections. Resourceful Kayla had tried to dig out some information from the Independent newspaper but could not get through. It seemed that their phone lines were all busy. Their paper was selling like hot cakes. Research from Kayla showed that all papers reached an all-time high readership level in this declining paperless age.

I have not mentioned the internet news portals. That was even worse. Comments from readers were hurled at us, some sarcastic, some hurtful and some supporting us. You could get a whole barrel of the world from the internet.

I felt betrayed. I felt hurt. I felt like phoning Jack and giving him a piece of my mind but I controlled myself. It would not have made a difference now.

Kayla knocked on my door. She told me that it was not necessarily a bad thing to be in the press. People were attracted to sensationalism. It brought them out of their boring lives where nothing happens.

"Do you think that what is said in the news reports is true?" I asked her.

She wiggled her ears and gave me a warm smile.

"I do not know whether the news reports are true. But the staff had known it for some time that both of you decide stuff together. You both have so much energy together. You're like two peas in a pod. Inseparable. But why should it matter? We believe in the both of you." She said.

Kayla was ten years younger than I was and freshly graduated from university. Together with Tim, she had worked for me for only three months. I wondered if she were saying this to boost my ego by virtue of my position because I was her boss. Was she trying to say the things I had wanted to hear desperately? It made me suspicious. That is why I never wanted to be the boss. What a responsibility then Mr Grumption had undertaken. I started to see things from his point of view.

"Have you and Tim handed over the cheque to the charity?" I asked.

"Not yet. We thought that you might need us here." She replied, with a sly smile.

"I asked the both of you to go to the charity and you didn't listen. Do go now. If I need you, I'll call you back early." I said.

"We were just trying to help, Miss Pollock." Kayla said.

I was agitated. They were not listening to my orders. They were going on a rampage on their own. I needed a stampede to get them in line.

"Thank you for your help. Do go to the charity. When we delay, the charity will question our creditworthiness and our scandal in the papers today. We must give the impression that everything is going on smoothly on our side. Did you and Tim think of that beforehand?" I asked.

"Er...no." Kayla said.

Then she muttered her apologies and summoned Tim to go with her. I heard the creaky elevator door close, signalling that both my assistants were gone for now. I heaved a sigh of relief.

Everything that I did was coming back upon me. It was karma. My assistants were uncontrollable. They had a mind of their own. No wonder then Mr Grumption was flabbergasted with me. I knew how he felt then. Yet I was I. My assistants were my assistants. Were Mr Grumption and I extra special? We had that special spark, did we not possess it? My assistants and I were just having a normal, working relationship.

Mr Grumption was to hold a late press conference in the evening. He had asked Jenny to hand me his purported statement for the evening since my assistants were sent off to the charity. I read the statement. Basically he wanted to say that he was not hen-pecked by me and that I was only his campaign manager. Ultimately he made the decisions, whether or not I agreed with it.

Well, this was true but both of us knew that there was no decision he undertook which I did not agree on. Normally we found a compromise. I was tacky enough to influence him by gentle persuasion to change his course of conduct. It never failed. He always listened to me. Sometimes he was grungy about it. He would complain. Yet he always changed his approach although he did not say so. I would be tactful enough to keep quiet whenever he changed his mind like that.

I hated myself for it. I had meddled too much. I was tired of being uncertain. While I was mulling over this, Mr Grumption came into my office. I still had his statement in my hands.

"I want to talk to you, but I want to do so outside office and after the press conference. I want to talk about us. But now the reporters will want to ask you questions. What are you going to say?" He asked.

"I´ll say anything you want me to say." I said.

Then I continued, "I owe you that much."

"I´m telling them I´m pulling out of the elections and resigning after the term for mayor is over. It doesn´t matter what you say." He said.

"No, you can´t do that. Let me resign instead. I´ll leave if that is what you want. You have a responsibility; a role to play. But from the depths of my heart, I want to be by your side, helping you in every single step you take." I said.

He was silent for a few minutes. I could see that he was controlling himself not to hug me. I knew he loved me that very moment in the room when I was panicking like crazy and shouting at him. His palms were curved into tight fists. I had so admired his rigid control.

"I want to hug you too, Mr Wild, but we can't." I said, barely in a whisper.

"Oh, Ana! That's what I want to talk to you about." He said, bending down towards me.

Without second thoughts, I rose and raised my hands to his lips. They traced the contours of his upper lip. I felt the softness of his lips with my hands roughened by work.

"No. Don't. I'm not ready. I'm afraid." I said, looking into his deep, pulsating eyes.

Yet I think both our souls reached out to each other at that time. We were on par, finally.

"Then Ana, let us both stay on until we're kicked out, alright? We will not go down without a fight. Where is our fighting spirit? We used to be a team. Let us be a team again, shan't we, Ana?" He asked.

I was relieved to hear that. I kept on looking at him until one minute later, Nelly knocked on the door to inform us that the press conference was due in an hours' time. I told Mr Grumption that I had to go home first to freshen up. He agreed and let me go.

Press conferences are always an illuminating affair. I say this because of the flash photography employed by photojournalists. It always disturbed my sight and I would see distorted colours around me. I was imaginative by nature, so it did not take much for creatures of all sorts to surface smack right in my sight due to the flash.

All attention was on me and Mr Grumption. The organizer introduced us to the press although clearly there was no need to. Everyone knew who the infamous duo were. I caught Jack amongst the crowd of news-hungry journalists. I wanted to punch him in the face. Mr Grumption and I had made plans to initiate criminal and civil proceedings against him as soon as the press conference was over. We considered theft, trespass, deception, breach of privacy, loss of reputation, defamation, infringement of copyright and making a person intoxicated along with pain and suffering endured. We were going for everything in the law statutes. We would engage the services of my friend Bea and her husband. They were among the best lawyers in the city.

After Mr Grumption had read his statement, all eyes turned on me. He said that he would only take questions after both of us had made our statements. I felt like an evil witch, to quote Lisa Holden whom actually became uneasy friends with me. She had phoned me half an hour before the event; saying that I showed such a dedication to Boston that I did not deserve her slap at all. In her own indirect way, she was apologizing to me. She also said I was free to have him. She did not love him that much.

"Lisa, we are not going to be together." I said.

"After all you've gone through and not to mention the brouhaha you've put me through, why on earth not?" She asked.

"Life has other plans for me." I said.

"You goose, if you really love this man, you would make your own plans. Let life chase you till the end. Run the race before you lose." She said.