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  Why had she not listened better when her dad said, “talk about something I can never do again?” He sounded so final! “Talk about something I can never do again?” Why didn’t I talk to him about it? Why didn’t I listen? I just ran out the door and now this...sending me his journal?

  Jenny rushed to the phone, started to press some numbers, but stopped then said out loud, “Why can’t I ever remember mom’s cell number?” as she grabbed her purse.

  10. PRESENT DAY – AT THE HOTEL

  The Leaning Tower of Pisa had lived through many exciting corporate events and had happily celebrated hundreds of Italian weddings. The floor was covered in a tasteful, stone-patterned carpet. There was a hardwood stage on one end with a huge mural of the Leaning Tower of Pisa as its backdrop. Walking into the room felt like walking into the Pisa’s grand cathedral square. The walls were colourfully decorated with Italian street scenes. The ceiling was a deep sky blue, sparkling with clusters of gold coloured stars. Yes, there was the feeling that this room had celebrated many times before!

  Without saying a word, Monique picked up the computer bag and walked towards the technician who was working on the soundboard up on the stage. She left Robert on the ground level, hoping to avoid hearing whatever negative comment he might share with the next person he met. This was brand new territory for Monique. She was not an outgoing person; in fact, she was quite shy. Robert was the one who always took the initiative to ensure his wife felt comfortable whenever they found themselves in a new situation or adventure. But in a strange way, Robert’s physical and personality changes had created a new and welcome independence in Monique, giving her the confidence to take control of certain situations that she never would have in the past.

  Robert wheeled his chair to sit facing the stage. Directly above the stage was a big banner hanging from the ceiling displaying the company’s name and logo. Do they really need it that big? It must be as big as a movie screen, he thought.

  It was a tasteful banner with a bright aqua-coloured background. The company’s name, ELEVATION, was printed in dark purple lettering and above that were jagged lines, much like the lines on a stock market chart. The three lines formed into three separate peaks. At the bottom of the banner was the slogan, “Always Elevating Software above and beyond SEE Level.”

  Robert smirked to himself at the lame word play of “SEA” to “SEE.”

  Greg came in behind Robert and asked, “Do you like our banner?”

  “What are those lines?” Robert asked.

  Robert waved his hand noticeably in front of his face, anticipating the strong odour of cologne that surrounded Greg, but Greg didn’t see him. The startling sound of drums boomed throughout the room. Greg and Robert both looked up at the stage at the same time.

  “Sorry about that!” Monique called down.

  She went back to connecting her computer to a projector as the technician continued playing with the sound levels. The startling drums soon transitioned into a quiet mournful song; the singer’s voice had a definite sounding ache. It was the unmistakeable voice of Bruce Springsteen, who was singing something about being bruised and battered, and seeing a reflection and didn’t know his own face...

  “Do you like it Robert? Although it wasn’t intentional, those lines actually represent mountains,” answered Greg. “You see, when we came up with the company name ‘Elevation,’ we wanted to find a logo that depicted something on the rise. So we hoped the logo would stand for the stock fluctuations, and indicate that our stocks are always going up. Do you know what they were before the mountains?” he asked with a laugh.

  Robert barely heard what Greg said. His brain only had room for the song and its words. Robert knew the feeling of this song—the memory of this song—it was in his ‘garden of songs’ but it was now flowering like a thorny weed, piercing him with shame. It was as if the song was exposing him: look at the cripple about to speak about climbing Mt. Everest, something he can never do now. Yes, he thought, I am truly unrecognizable to myself!

  Lost in his depressed thoughts, he hadn’t noticed that Greg was waiting for a response. Despite not hearing what Greg said, Robert quickly composed himself and blurted, “Oh, good...it works!”

  “I’m sorry...” Greg said. “What works?”

  Robert was flustered. Why didn’t he just ask Greg to repeat what he had said? But at the same time, he just wanted to end this conversation, so he said, “It all does—Good work—Looks good.”

  “Well, thanks to your wife. You see, with our recent merger, we needed to strengthen and firm up our image but we wanted to do it without really changing our logo, and it was Monique’s idea to change those wavy graph lines into mountains. The three peaks represent the three companies we are now composed of. Yes, you have a very intelligent and creative wife, Robert!”

  A drop of sweat trickled down Robert’s forehead, visible enough that Greg quickly snatched up a napkin off a nearby table and offered it to him.

  “Yeah, thanks.” Robert took the napkin and wiped his forehead. He felt uneasy and almost short of breath.

  “Yes, of course. Go prepare. Sorry to take up your time. Oh...but, Robert, please know how grateful I am that you are here, because we really need a talk like yours today. You see, Elevation has always prided itself on teamwork, but now with three separate companies trying to forge into one—well, it’s not an easy task. Ever since the announcement of the merger, I have been fearing we might become fractured or split. Like that Chinese saying: ‘we are like a bucket of sand.’”

  “Sand?” Robert stammered.

  “It’s like we are all in the bucket together, but, like sand, nothing sticks together—and I fear the changes going on within the company might prove to too much for us to handle and we won’t be able to stick together. We really need this event and someone to inspire and help bring us together, make us feel we all are on the same team. So thank you, Robert, for helping us today.” Greg put his hands together and repeated, “Thank you,” with a reverent bow.

  Robert just nodded and then swiftly turned the wheelchair with a strong-handed jerk down on one wheel in the opposite direction of Greg. Inspire? Help you? Well, you’ve got yourself the wrong man, Mister Wong!

  With his sudden move, the napkin flew off his lap and landed on the floor and just as Robert was about to turn back, Greg smiled. “No, no, don’t worry. I have it.”

  “Great—Yeah, you have it,” Robert said, trying his best to muster a smile. And as he pushed himself towards the stage, still holding that forced fake smile, he thought, Yeah, everyone’s always super helpful to the cripple!

  Monique had been keeping an eye on Robert and fearing the worst as she saw him talking to Greg. So, she was happy to see them part at least with what looked like smiles. She greeted her husband at the bottom of the stairs to the stage.

  “Oh, no!” There were six steps and no ramp! she thought.

  The technician working on the stage noticed this right away. Amir Satchu was a scrawny little man from Guyana. His weathered face made him look much older than his forty years.

  “Ah, Miss Monique,” Amir said, his wide-open smile sparkling with three gold-plated teeth. “Does your friend here need assistance?”

  “Well, what is the best way to do this?” Monique asked.

  “Ah, there is always a way—and I know the perfect one!”

  Amir arrived at the top of the stairs and then called out to Robert. “Okay, sir. Jump and I’ll catch you!”

  Oh my God! Monique closed her eyes preparing for Robert’s worst response.

  “How high?” was Robert’s reply. “Think you can catch all this weight?”

  Monique was relieved and shocked that Robert didn’t get insulted and chew poor Amir’s head off.

  “Stop! Wait!” Amir playfully yelled. “I just remembered, I forgot to eat my Wheaties this morning. Jumping and catching might be bad for your health, sir. We must think of something else.”

  “What’s your name, strong man?�
�� asked Robert.

  “Amir, sir. And, as I’m sure you can see by my towering physique, many call me ‘Amir the Giant Satchu’. At your service, sir.”

  Monique let out a small laugh, thinking she could probably catch and carry the small-sized Amir herself. What a relief it was to laugh out loud! Monique thought. What was it about Amir that had Robert displaying glimpses of his former self? she wondered.

  “I’ll tell you what, Amir the Giant. Come behind me,” Robert instructed. Amir quickly hopped down to the floor level. “Now, let’s go backwards up the stairs.”

  Amir, who could not have been much taller than Monique, latched onto the handles at the back of Robert’s chair.

  “Okay, lean me back. Just balance me, don’t take all the weight, I’ll turn the wheels and we’ll go up one step at a time. Remember, I’m the motor, right? Okay, you ready, Giant?”

  Robert, co-operating with someone he just met...and calling him endearing names? It seemed like a miracle to Monique!

  Step by step, Robert encouraged Amir and after each step Robert asked, “How’s the Giant doing? Ready for the next?”

  Could it be it’s because he was climbing? Monique mused.

  Amir then stopped on the fourth step and joked, “Okay, sir, it looks like time to switch places. It’s my turn to sit in the chair.”

  Monique held her breath, shrinking back from what might come out of Robert’s mouth, but he just laughed and said, “There’s only one Giant Amir and that’s not me!”

  Finally at the top and just as Amir was setting the wheelchair level, it almost tipped forward, threatening to throw Robert to the floor. Monique leaped up the stairs just in time to put her hands on Robert’s chest to steady him while Amir quickly put his arms around Robert’s shoulders to keep him in the chair. Just as Robert was upright, the mysterious brown leather bag that Robert had been holding fell out. Wham! The weighted impact sounded as if it would surely make a good-sized dent on the hardwood stage.

  Monique went to pick it up.

  “No!” Robert yelled a little too loud. “Don’t anybody touch it!” He swirled the wheelchair to its side and reached down to pick the bag up.

  Right at that moment, Monique’s cell phone went off. She reached into her purse for the phone and said, in a joking way to lighten the moment, “Good thing that went off now and not in the middle of your talk, Robert.” Without checking the incoming number, she switched it off and put it back into her bag.

  Robert totally ignored her, turned to Amir and snapped, “All right, what do you want me do?”

  Monique’s heart sank hearing the return of Robert’s harsh tone. The climb was over and they had summited the stage, only to find the little giant miracle had not made it to the top with them.

  11. 12 WEEKS AGO – SEEMA’S OFFICE

  “Hi Robert!” Seema spoke gently as Benny pushed him into her office. It had been a few days since Robert had been told the bones in his leg were just too splintered to fix. The doctor said that they had tried everything possible and nothing had worked. His left leg must also be amputated as soon as it could be scheduled.

  “It’s okay if you don’t want to talk today. I truly understand. I do, Robert. I truly do.”

  Seeing that Robert didn’t respond, she turned to Benny. “So, it’s all right, Benny, you can take Mr. Sanchez back.”

  Benny turned Robert around and moved him towards the door. Robert opened his arms and grabbed onto both sides of the doorway to stop the chair from rolling through it.

  “No wait, Benny.” Robert then turned the wheelchair around to face Seema.

  “Why do you say truly? That you truly understand?” he asked her.

  She looked at him with a quizzical look. “I’m sorry, what do you mean?”

  “You said you truly understand. So does that mean you weren’t being true when you said you understood all the other times?”

  Seema pulled at her dark purple scarf. “Well, it’s just an expression, Robert. I think I say ‘truly’ because this time I want to...to show you...well, to show you compassion.”

  “So the other times you were not showing compassion?”

  Seema stammered because she knew she wasn’t going to find the answer Robert might be looking for.

  “No, no, Robert, it’s just...I realize with the news you received a few days ago, you might not want to speak today and I guess my saying ‘truly’ was a way of telling you I understand and that I know the news you received the other day was not...well, good.”

  “So you don’t want to talk about how I’m getting all fixed up? Don’t wanna speak about how my other leg is being hacked off tomorrow?”

  “Of course, we’ll talk if you want to...I’m here to talk to you—I just thought...”

  “Do you truly want to talk about it, Miss Pourshadi? Really? It’s pretty gory. Did you know they actually use an electric saw? Did you know that? An electric saw! Oh, so I’m sorry, I guess it’s not really hacking it off; it’s more of a quick buzz.” Robert mimed an electric saw and its sound as he passed it over the cast on his leg.

  “Benny, it’s okay to leave Mr. Sanchez here. I’ll call you when we are finished.”

  “Sure thing, Seema.” Benny put a hand on Robert’s shoulder. “See you later, Roberto.” Benny went out of the office and closed the door.

  Seema looked at Robert. He looked right back at her as if he was about to say something, but then stopped himself and wheeled his chair right up to the window.

  “No kids today. No kites, not even a dog walker,” he said.

  Seema moved to the front of her desk and leaned against it. “You missed a little soccer match some girls were playing this morning.”

  Robert reached out and scratched at some faint drops of white paint that had probably been on that window for years. He surprised her as he spoke with sincere tenderness. “So you do know what’s going to happen tomorrow?”

  “Yes, Robert. I’m truly sorry.”

  Robert turned around and looked at Seema with a sad grin.

  “Oh my God,” she said. “Truly, I did it again, didn’t I? I guess it’s a habit. I’m so sorry, Robert.”

  Robert put his hand up to stop her. “It’s okay. Frankly it doesn’t matter how sorry anyone is. Apparently the best way of fixing me is to cut this damn thing off. Yep, tomorrow night I’ll be truly one hundred percent without legs.”

  “And uh...” Seema stopped and put her hand in front of her mouth, and feigned clearing her throat, realizing she didn’t know what to say to him next.

  Robert took a deep breath and wheeled his chair towards the front of the desk and stopped directly in front of Seema.

  “Look, today I did want to talk...so I could...well, ask you if you could do something for me.”

  “Of course, Robert, what is it you would like me to do for you?”

  “Would you drive me to the hospital tomorrow?”

  Seema was startled by Robert’s request. Not only had he always been what seemed intentionally distant to her, but also bringing someone to the hospital for an operation was something usually left to family or friends. Seema was neither of these to Roberto Sanchez.

  “Robert, I can do that for you, but why don’t you want your wife—”

  Robert cut her off. “We don’t have time to discuss it. My wife and daughter are coming to pick me up in about ten minutes. I’d really like it if you could talk to them first.”

  “About what exactly, Robert?”

  “Please tell them you are taking me to the hospital. Tell them something about you think it’s best...or it’s the centre’s request.”

  “Do your wife and daughter not feel comfortable going to the hospital, Robert?”

  “Please, can you just tell them? Tell them it’s Benny’s idea or something—I don’t know, but please. Just please, do this for me?”

  “I can’t lie to your family, Robert. I really can’t—”

  Robert cut her off again. “—Please, please—for God’s sake, j
ust make something up, please!”

  “Mr. Sanchez, I really cannot—”

  “—Tell them the truth then!” Robert almost screamed. “Tell them I can’t see their faces! I can’t! I can’t have them seeing this again, watching me have another piece of my body ripped off. Tell them I just can’t see them looking...looking that way again.”

  Seema put her hand out to touch Robert’s shoulder. But he pushed it aside. “I don’t need your hand...or your—Look, please, just do this for me. I’ll come here every day and tell you whatever you need to know. Just please, can you do this for me?”

  12. PRESENT DAY – JENNY’S RESIDENCE

  Jenny called her mother’s cell phone, but kept getting her voicemail. On the fourth try, Jenny finally released all the dark thoughts that were invading her heart’s mind into that receiver.

  “Mom, Daddy’s journal...he sent it to me...It’s here, I have it. Right here, Mom...in my hand...right here! The thing he said he would never show me and only give to me after he died...Why did he do this, Mom?...Daddy’s changed, Mom...We need to...and...and...and okay—Why does Daddy have a gun? What the hell does he need a gun for, Mom? Mom, I think it’s a bad idea today—You should see the letter he sent with the journal...Mom, please call me...Daddy doesn’t want to talk to people! I don’t think you should let him talk today...”

  Then came the sound of a beep.

  Every ounce of Jenny was spent. With tears filling her eyes, she held the phone limply at her side and repeated softly to herself, “I think Daddy wants to die...I think he just wants to die...I think...Oh, Daddy...”

  A knock at the door interrupted Jenny. She wiped her face with the long soft sleeve of her housecoat as she opened the door.

  “Surprise...I thought you maybe could use a—”