The House of Life 1

by Vann Chow

  They continued to chat along the corridor out and on the elevator. When the two walked out of the lobby and through the main entrance to the busy streets outside, Elise asked Michael which way he was heading.

  “Umm..” He hesitated for a moment, then he said, “Well, I could walk you to the MTR station. You’d said you lived in Chai Wan, am I right?”

  Elise didn’t remember telling him that. She usually tried to remain vague when it comes to personal information, especially to a stranger, even though starting from today on they would be colleagues.

  “That’s too nice of you.” She smiled.

  They passed by a construction site on their way. The noise of the machinery was too loud for them to talk. They walked side by side in silence until they passed the working zone. In the silence, the two young persons were desperately trying to measure and calculate what the other was thinking while they weren’t exactly thinking about anything in particular. Then Michael asked.

  “Are you happy with your life?”

  “Do you mean, after I started working here?” Elise said. "I supposed I am. I'm pretty satisfied right now with my life."

  “I am just curious what you’ll say. From the short period of time I’ve observed you, you seemed to be a unique species of your own.” Michael said. Elise laughed as she stopped and turned to look at him.

  “Species! Am I a mutated cell clipped between two glass slides under your microscope?” She said.

  “You are very different from most people I know. I can feel it.”

  “How do you mean? Do I look different from them? ” Elise asked

  “Not everything is about appearance. I just thought you walk faster than anybody I know and you appeared more cheerful and alive than anyone else I’ve met. You seemed relaxed and comfortable around me. That doesn't happen very often. Especially because of what I do.”

  “Do you really think so?” Elise asked. “This is only my first day at the office. Wait until you see me after a month. They would probably have brushed off their corporate vices on me.” She said. “Moreover, if I’m so great, I wouldn’t be there.”

  “Well, that makes the two of us” Michael said. It made Elise smiled. Michael’s gaze lingered on her face for more than the appropriate amount of time. She’s a beauty.

  "I would not be wasting my time on doing any technical internship at all to be honest if I don't have to collect resplendent building blocks for the ultimate ‘job-hunting resume’ that would surely capture the big corporate recruiters’ attention when I graduate. You know, all that stuff about being prepared for your future and getting a high-paying job so you can afford an expensive foreign car that sort of thing.”

  “I hear a hint of sarcasm in there.” Michael said.

  Elise smiled. “I guess I was just being a typical twenty-something-year-old---anxious about what would become of herself when she is finally strong enough to take flight from under the protection of her parents. Eager to do things her own ways but yet unsure if she could really cope with the reality, you know?”

  Elise stopped in front of a beautifully decorated designer store. She looked through the glass panel at the mannequins clothed with the latest fashion. It seems that she saw more than what was there. Something that Michael couldn’t see himself.

  “May be it is safer to follow the easy path.” Elise said. “Instead of creating a new one.”

  Michael nodded to signify that he understood what she meant. The mundane life of adulthood. “You’re only a student. Imagine yourself in my shoes.”

  “Then you should know! Don’t you ever have that feeling, that you are trapped into something you can’t get out of despites all the potentials you’ve known is inside you all along but yet there is no outlet for you to express them and they threaten your existence so much that…that you started to ask questions like what am I doing here? Why am I toiling away like a slave for people’s approval, for material gains, for money? All the things that I could very well live without and would give up my life so easily, if I ain’t so afraid of death, for the chance to be something other than what I am now? What am I doing with my life? Am I working hard to meet people’s expectations or am I actually working hard so that the powerful entity that controls our destiny will have mercy on me?” She paused to catch her breath, boiling internally with unresolved anger. “Then you realize that you are not putting enough meaning to the life you’re given with. You’re wasting it. You secretly wish that someone would take it away from you so you, or someone else who has more will, and could make a good use of the physical space you occupy now on this earth.” When Elise stopped her torrent of anguish ranting, she realized that she must have driven this conversation to too much of a gloomy place for a first dialogue between two colleagues, so she apologized.

  “There’s nothing to apologize about. I knew from the moment I saw you that you are different. You’re a free spirit.” He said.

  “A bird inside a cage, more like.” And she laughed at herself. Today I looked over my cubicle and saw all these busy people. It was an overwhelming picture. Some people were typing away on their keyboards furiously, some were running to make photocopies, some were rushing to get quick cups of coffee before another long meeting and some were yelling into the speakerphones at the same time during what seemed to be equally important calls — It just got me thinking, you know, whether all these busy people are actually happy with what they are doing. None of them probably set out to work in the corporate world when they were twelve years old I supposed?” She said. “I am talking to myself again. How rude of me!” Elise apologized and made a step away from the store.

  “Little bird in the cage,” Michael called to her in a soft voice, “perhaps the gate has already been opened for you. Perhaps today’s the day.”

  That made Elise smiled.

  Michael said after a while. “To be honest, I thought about these things you said a great deal as well, but I was never brave enough to verbalize them and share my feelings with other people.”

  “Look at that.” Elise suddenly exclaimed. The dusking sun has captured her darting attentions. In front of them, over the fence of the Boardwalk next to the ferry pier close by the Bilious office building was Victoria harbor. The sea was sparkling from the egg yolk color of the sinking sun. Many couples were lingering on the boardwalk that wound along the edge of the peninsula. It was a popular rendezvous spots as well as a famous tourist attraction. Elise leaned forward against the railings to take in the breeze that blew over the calm harbor and on her face.

  “It’s absolutely breathtaking.” Michael said, turning to look at Elise.

  “Yes.” She replied. Not knowing what his remark was truly for.

  After a moment, Elise looked at her watch and said, “It’s already six thirty! Sorry to hold you up for so long.”

  “We have chatted for an hour!” Michael exclaimed to when he realized that time went by so fast.

  “It was nice talking to you.” Elise was ready to go home.

  “Umm…Elise. Let’s go have a drink.” Michael asked. A Starbucks at the end of the Boardwalk caught his eyes. “How about Starbucks? I heard they make good coffee. All teenagers like Starbucks.”

  “I am not a teenager anymore. I’m twenty-one already.”

  “I know. Yes, I am sorry.” He started to stuttered nervously. This was his first time asking a girl out for a drink.

  “Please, go have a drink with me. Not that I am trying to coax you into a date with me or anything…” He said, lowering his head. “Well, that was not true. I do want to take you out on a date. I would like to know more about you.”

  She smiled inwardly to herself when she heard the clumsy confession that told her he was not very good at this. Michael blushed despite himself.

  “I’m starving. How about dinner instead?” Elise asked.

  Michael was too excited at her suggestion that he thus appeared like a man who just won a million dollars, befuddled with the good fortune that had evaded him
for so long, not knowing what to do with himself anymore. “I’m sorry. I don’t hang out with girls very often.” He started to play with the flap of the pocket on his jacket.

  Elise was amused at the effect she had on him. She had thought all this time that a man with a successful career, she assumed, for she could not picture otherwise, in one of the best electronics firm in Asia, should already be happily married to a beautiful, docile Stepford Wife who was at the moment busying at home preparing delicious homemade dinner for him upon his return.

  “I know where to take you.” Something came into her mind just now. “Yes, let’s go to Raphael Terrace. I read about their restaurants from a magazine recently and I’ve always wanted to try!”

  “That sounds good to me.”

  “Raphael Terrace.” Michael repeated it to himself again, as if it would help him remember how to get there. Perhaps he was just being nervous. To be honest there was butterflies in his stomach right now he couldn’t think straight.

  “Do you not know about it? Raphael Terrace has, according to the magazine, a really magnificent view of the city. You'll like it.”

  Michael strode in front of her in huge steps as they walked towards their destination. She noted to herself the sturdiness in his gait that hinted at an older spirit housed in the frame of a younger man, one that had been tried by a harsh life that had ridded him of the frivolousness and lightheartedness that Elise best represented.

  Tsim Sha Tsui at dusk was an absolutely amazing sight. The fainting yellow of the sun made long shadows of the pedestrians and the trees that were dotted along Nathan Road. The growing darkness beckoned greater intensities from the tall European styled street lamps and neon signs out on storefront. It’s a regular Friday and as usual, crowds of people were pouring into the street. Some were tired businessmen and businesswomen heading homeward, looking forward to a nice supper at home; some were young couples in nice evening gowns and suits hastening to their reserved tables probably at one of the four, five stars hotel restaurants residing along Victoria Harbor; but most of those that lingered on the streets were fashionably dressed teenagers with handful of bagged shopped goods, chitchatting, laughing nosily and taking snapshots of themselves with their high-tech cell phones, oblivious to the stream of people passing by them from both directions. The air was warm and moist in the summer days such that nearly every store had its air conditioning cranked up to full power. Elise found herself slowing down to enjoy the lifesaving breezes in front of a small bakery.

  “Hey, what are you doing? I think Raphael Stairs is this way.” Michael yelled at her from the island in the middle of the zebra crossing as the flashing little green man of the pedestrian traffic light signaled her to hurry across.

  “That’s a lot of stairs!” Elise exclaimed when she came in front of a long flight of stairs that was supposed to bring her to Raphael Terrace which was famous for its breath-taking view and nice bars. She was really bumped by the prospect of having to sweat even more because that would mess up her makeup. Now she was regretting not to have powdered up before she left the company.

  “Yes. Stairs. You could use the exercise.” Michael attempted a joke, not realizing what it would entail.

  “Are you implying that I’m fat?” She said playfully.

  “What? No! Never! ” Michael said apologetically.

  Elise smiled at her victory.

  At a moment of manly courage that young men in love were often stroked with, Michael grabbed Elise by the hand and tugged her upstairs with as steady a hand as he could manage. Elise’s heart, following the direction of her head, was at once turned away from the blinding light of the city to the figure before her.

  A Lost Diary

  It was mahogany red and leather bounded. Binding its two worn out covers together was an old golden elastic band. The notebook was almost an inch thick and he could imagine that its owner must have tucked a great deal of secrets in it. The curled corners of a few envelopes tucked between the pages were poking out from the sides.

  It had been sitting on his desk for two or probably three hours already. In the meantime he had already finished a barbecued pork lunchbox and taken a shower. He has given a great deal of thought regarding the notebook but he was still hesitating whether he should open it up to reveal the mysteries hidden inside or simply take it back to the same MTR station’s Loss and Found in its original condition as any upright citizen should.

  It had belonged to the girl he saw today in the train, he was sure. He saw it laying on the floor helplessly on the spot where the girl was resting her legs a moment ago before she hastily got off the train at the Tsim Sha Tsui station. Instinctively he picked it up and ran towards the closing doors. He managed to force them open and squeezed through the gap, which created a slight commotion in the train. It aggravated a MTR assistant officer in florescence orange suit who came running towards him to give him warnings. He waved the officer off by pretending that he couldn’t understand his badly spoken English and quickly scanned every corner of the station for the girl, but she was nowhere in sight already.

  Ian sighed. If he could just picked up the notebook a split-second earlier, or ran a tad bit faster, he could have caught her. She would thank him profusely and they would exchange their mobile numbers so she could invite him for coffee to thank him properly. Then coffee would turn into lunch. Lunch would turn into dinner and dinner would turn into a nightcap on his bed. Ian couldn’t help hyperventilating a little when the arousing image came into his mind. But reality snapped back in again as he heard the clinked of the door out in the living room. It must be mom. He threw the red notebook into his backpack and quickly went out of his room to greet her.

  The clinking of wine glasses overlays the sensuality of the Spanish singer singing in the back of the restaurant. The soft, warm glow of the candlelight decorated on the tabletop had made Elise’s cheeks redder than the rogue she put on. A kaleidoscope of faces swirled in front of her eyes as she downed another dollop of red wine. She never had any tolerance for alcoholic drinks. As she sat there in such a nice elegant restaurant, aged red wine poured into the glass in front of her with perfect execution, she wondered why her mother had never trained her like the kids from rich households who were given glasses of wine each night for months ahead of their eighteenth birthday to amp up their alcohol resistance well before they began the colorful social lives of their own. It was indeed better to be drunk at home than to embarrass your folks outside, Elise thought.

  “Deep in thought already,” Michael interrupted her idle speculation.

  “Just enjoying the atmosphere,” she replied. “Thanks for taking me here. It’s really beautiful.” They took the seat next to the window that overlooked the matrix of streets down below. Fireworks of neon signs exploded themselves before them. As she looked down she caught a glimpse of her handbag resting next to the leg of her chair, appearing to be unusually unsupported. Something was missing.

  “Hmm. I think I’ve lost my diar...” She stopped herself. “umm...notebook.” She now glanced down at the empty space in her handbag where her red leather bound diary should be.

  “You keep a diary, huh?”

  “It doesn't belong to me, it was something I inherited from my grandmother. Something that passed down to me.”

  “Interesting,” Michael said, noticing the nervous edge in her voice. “Why would bring something like that with you to work, if you don’t mind me asking?”

  “I don’t know. Things happened like a dream today. I am not totally sure myself…” She bent to look under her chair, then the table. Perhaps it had dropped out of her handbag, but she had found nothing.

  “Do you remember when was the last time you’ve seen it?” Michael asked, trying to be helpful.

  “I put it in here this morning, as usual as it was, I am pretty sure of it.” She started to ruffle through her bag even though it was pretty apparent that an eight by eleven inches leather book cannot possibly be hidden behind her coin bags or he
r pressed powder case.

  “Oh my God. Oh my God….” Elise thought to herself. “I can’t possibly lose it.” She started to pray in the back of her mind that she didn’t make such terrible mistake as she rummaged through the documents in her bags from today’s work, and dug her hand deep in between scores of cosmetics and miscellaneous objects that she now wish she didn’t have. Her mind blacked out for a second at the horror of losing something she held so dear to her heart, oblivious to Michael’s concerning inquiries about the diary. Whatever he asked, they didn’t register at all. Her eyes started to swell with tears but she couldn’t care less. They poured out of her into the black velvet lining of her bag as if it was a black hole that had sucked in her grandmother's diary, a precious gift from someone called Maximilian, her lover, someone she met before she was married to grandfather.

  “Calm down, Elise.” Michael tried to soothe her as she poured out all her belongings into the porcelain plate in front of her, making loud clatter as they landed on the hard surface. That turned a couple of heads in their immediate surroundings. “It’s not in there, Elise. Maybe you should calm down and think.”

  “No! I put it here. It’s IN here!” She bellowed. "This is the only thing I've left from her!" A few more heads turned towards their direction.

  Michael looked nervously at the girl crying hysterically before him, wondering what he should do next. “Elise, I am sorry. I am so sorry…”

  Elise stared into the dark velvet felt that she wanted to tear off from the core of her bag, begging for forgiveness from some unknown entity. Suddenly a pair of hands clasped her arms. She looked up in shock to see they belonged to Michael. He was kneeling next to her chair. Elise’s eyes met Michael’s. Through her blurry vision, she could see that his eyes were reddened, just like hers, but from distress of a different sort.