The Broken Bough

Notes about the self : IV

 

 

 

 

 

 

I rent a room in a semi-detached house. There were 3 of us, all single men, ranging in age from 40 - 85. About 4 months ago we were joined by a young 21 year old. He's a student at the university nearby and works part-time at a hotel lounge as night manager.

 

Each of us pursues our own interest. The 40 year old is from India and lectures at the university. Not much for conversation apparently and would oblige a smile at the remark or greeting I make. The 85 year old is a cantankerous old buzzard who is into faith. His room is filled with pictures of dieties and every evening he conducts a special service of songs and flowers for them.

 

So when the student moved in there was a remarkable change in the climate of the house. It lifted the pale pall of death and reintroduced an enthusiasm for daily living. It stimulated the old man to work on the garden and now we have an impressive array of vegetables and flower plants to view each day.

 

When the water supply was cut momentarily a few weeks back I grabbed my plastic container to go to the water vending machine at the shoplot area. I saw the student pacing in the living room with a deep frown on his head. He had a date, needed a bath, but there was no water. I told him how I was coping and it brought the light of revelation to his eyes.

 

We travelled in my car to the water vending machine carrying our plastic containers. Its been sometime since I have been exposed to a situation involving a teenage living under the same roof and I was a little anxious but glad for the opportunity. He spoke with deliberation, carefully pronouncing each word and looking back at me for affirmation as to what he meant. I decided to put on my cap of social amiability.

 

I responded to his remarks with a practiced flair, creating the manner of assurance that being young can also be fun. That it is a time of expectations and despite his lack of experience at knowing anything for certain, or accuracy of speech and gender specific identity, it didn't bother me. I had spent a lifetime in the colleges training kids like him. He appeared more settled on the way back.

 

Three days ago I ran into him and realized he was limping. ' I was in an accident and have been on medical leave for 5 days,' he replied to my inquiry. ' Didn't you know? ' No I hadn't.