Life Behind A Glass

1. Not now

Manhattan, 1996

" I will never be ready, will I?"

Everything changed on that day, when Drew opened up my old wound that I had carefully buried at the deepest pit of my memories.

On Monday morning, 6th  of May, 1996, I woke up to my 6 am alarm. Glancing at the family photo on top of the small table beside my bed, I stretched my arm above my head and smelled my shirt. Combination of sweat and musty smell always followed me everywhere. I was sure that it was because of my clothes. But no matter how much detergent I used, it changed nothing. It made my clothes whitened near the collar and dingy in other areas. Summer only made everything worse. In that small, stuffy room with no air-conditioner, hot air suffocated me and squeezed every drop of sweat from my body. The bright sunlight of summer days, though to some people was a never-ending joy, was a dread to me. It meant more sweat and more foul-smelling bacteria accumulating under my armpit.

The sun had not even risen but some people were already rushing in the sidewalk. I cycled slowly observing the pedestrians making their way in the dark. I leaned my bike on the iron fence, briskly straightened my wrinkled shirt and walked towards the warehouse. Drew was already there waiting for me.

"Your job today," the bald guy in front of us grunted fiercely throwing a paper on the desk.

Slowly, Drew picked it up. I glanced at the title, although for years that never meant anything to me. That day, it was written "Golden Bridge". Both of us nodded.

"I don't want to see your sloppy work today." He pulled out the cigarette from his pocket and threw the box in the trash. "I just couldn't understand how people could mess up such an easy work. Your brains are there for some reason. Now go, don't waste your time."

"Yes Mr. Wheaton," was the audible sound coming out from my mouth, although I felt rage slowly pumped the blood to my chest to my neck and to my face. I tightened my lips and swallowed few times trying to swallow my pride together with my saliva. Drew gently touched my hand and looked at my eyes deeply. He forced a little smile on his face using as little muscle movement as possible. That small gesture was enough to get me back to my senses.

It was our usual morning routine in which I had lasted for not less than four years. I didn't understand why I came back every single day to the same place. Other than money, probably I just wanted to meet Drew. Drew was more like a brother I never had than a friend. Friends? Sure, I had many. We always hang out during lunch break or after work. But Drew was different.

"The roof top is always the best place, isn't it? Here," Drew thrust a can of coffee into my hand.

"Next time, it's my treat," I said opening the can. "Ughh. I'm still annoyed with that old man. What kind of attitude was that?"

"Hey, hey... calm down. We just need his money. We have more in our life than his scoldings. We have other things to hope for, don't we?"

I stared at the morning sky without saying anything and I said softly, "I don't really have anything to look forward to. You have your girlfriend and your family."

Drew looked at me with those eyes again, eyes that looked at me as if I'm a five-year old kid who just lost his parents and his ways in this vast world. As much as I hated to admit it, he was right, not about my parents but my diminishing hope of the future. He knew exactly what kind of life I was living and how much I wanted to trade it with someone else's.

"Although I heard this saying before 'If you wait, all that happens is you get older', I believe that time sometimes let us understand why things happen. We can't always change things, can we? Whatever efforts we are making, we just can't do certain things. What we can always change is our perception about things. That is why I don't really agree with those people who say that we can get whatever we want. That is a remarkable thing to say to get people live in a wrong direction. Just one step at a time will do."

I smiled. "You can beat the professor of philosophy with your words. Too bad you're stuck here with me."

"No, no. Don't say stuck but allowed. Well, I'm hopeful for a better work of course. I'm thinking of starting new business with Anna after we get married next year," said Drew while staring at the smoke coming out from the chimney of the old paper factory across the street.

"We have exactly twelve minutes before we have to start," I said. "I'm just going to sit down here for a while and enjoy this morning breeze."

I closed my eyes and breathed deeply. I just wanted to relax and let all my worries drifted away. I looked at the glowing sphere, right across where I sat, casting beams to every corner of that little town. I looked down as the golden color became more vivid, giving life to the picturesque row of old houses and trees. Suddenly, Drew spoke up.

"Jim, have you considered trying again? Perhaps...." Drew stopped and gulped down his saliva several times searching for the right words to follow that 'perhaps'.

I turned my head and looked at him intently. For a second, I hated Drew for ruining my morning. I knew exactly what he was talking about but I couldn't bring myself back to that place - at least not now. "What do you mean?"

"You know... Maybe you can sing instead. I really want you to be happy, man." Drew said.

"Drew, stop it. Stop it." I grabbed my head and closed my eyes tightly as if I could seal off every access to those painful memories. I didn't want to sing. That was not my dream.

Then, it was silent. The bird stopped singing for a while, the sound of cars gone and the wind rested for a few solemn minutes in respect of my tormented soul. It was as if every creature, every human - the universe - acknowledged how painful it was for me to see my future taken away, my dream crashed and thrown into the abyss. Perhaps a little too cruel for the eighteen-year-old Jim.