In my mansion, I have a room to myself and it's bigger than the place you call a bank.
Who's this scruffy thing living with me?
She's nothing but a cleaner and I make her sleep at the balcony without a mat. Oh yes! I love the way she hunches herself on bare floor. Let her lungs feel the cold all night!
* * *
I'm seeing an American movie in my living room and she comes to sit in my grey couch. "Get out!" I watch her wizened eyes tremble and throw my face away.
"Yuck! You smell! Don't stain my couch with those wretched nightclothes hanging on your bones."
I cross my legs on the middle stool and my hollow dimples show on my cheeks. She walks away, sobbing into her torn blouse.
* * *
It's 11 o'clock and I'm in the kitchen, slicing garlic and tomatoes. I'm about to make stew with barbecued chicken. Just when it boils halfway, the flame goes down. I strike my match box thrice but the burner stays quiet. It dawns on me that my gas is finished.
"How do I cook my stew? It's the dead of night and I can't leave the estate now."
I remember someone has a stove but she's nothing but a cleaner. "Yuck! How do I stoop so low?"
* * *
I stroll to the balcony with patches of shame and there she lies, on bare floor. I swallow the lump in my throat and touch her blouse. Damn! I feel the ice on her skin. Slowly, she sits up and jerks.
"Lend me your stove. My stew is halfdone."
My pride doesn't let me say a 'please' so I fold my forearms and wait for her to talk.
"My stove smells!"
I stare straight at her. "I'll use it like that."
She chuckles and throws her face away. "Yuck! You smell."
"What did you just say?"
" I said you smell. Oh great the stench oozing from your mouth. How funny it is that a rich woman asks a poor one for help! Use my stove, madam. Use it! Make your stew. There's little kerosine in it and it would cook your stew for tonight. I bet if it wasn't this late, you wouldn't be in front of me by now. You would have driven to the gas station."
I pick the stove from the left corner and take a step out. "Thank you."
" Before you go, take this piece of advice. You may be rich but never think the poor are useless. One day, just one day, you may need their help. Ironically, it may be something you can afford but a circumstance prevents you from buying it. I pray your pride doesn't ruin you in the near future."
She talks crap so I lock my face and walk away with the stove in my hands.
But then, MY CONSCIENCE PRICKS!
* * *
I go to the backyard and meet the gas pipe unplugged. "What's this? Who did this?"
I hear a voice from the kitchen.
"I did."
I turn around and there she is, my cleaner.
"I unplugged the gas pipe to teach you a lesson you could have learnt the harder way."
And for the first time in my life, I fall on my knees and drops of tears crawl down my cheeks. I run to her and give her a hug.
"I'm sorry. I know you smell but I would load your wardrobe and get you deodorants tomorrow. Thank you. I may not need the stove now but the history of that stove forever dwells in my heart. I've heard stories of how other rich folks learn this the hardest way. Let's go in. We would have dinner together."
* * *
(Curtain Falls)
Happy new week beloved, I celebrate your life. Thank you for visiting my blog today.
@ambdavid