Last night as we were having our dinner together, Merry again started her usual casual talk. This time she asked me about the English meaning of quit.
She said this girl of whom had quitted her job at Ark hotel. She questioned whether quit meant resign.I said yes.
She laughed aloud, and said that her colleague at Ark Hotel is asking her to help her to find a job at SA Health. This workmate was checking with her whether they need another cleaner.
Merry was replying back to her colleague’s texts, while chatting with us.
Luke suddenly said, “I am going to resign too next week.”
Both Merry and I were down-founded.
I could not find words to respond.
I snapped back at Merry, “can't you even let us have a peaceful dinner?”
I quickly finished my meal and left the table and went to the next room, overwhelmed with full force of shock.
I lost myself. Waves of sullen hatred knocked hared against my poor heart. I loathed Merry for triggering this crisis.
I despised Luke for pecking his parents' bones until the day we die.
I overheard the mum keeping asking the son why he wanted to quit his cleaner job, how he can survive, to keep on paying us the bills.
The son grew agitated and shouted back, that he did not care, and then shouted at his mum, “you are not qualified to be my parents.”
I was really angry at Luke’s rude words. Had I not refrained, I would have rushed to the table, and pointed my shaking fingers at him.
I chose to go out alone. It was dark and cold. Winter time, now in Adelaide. It was drizzling. I soon returned to the backyard.
Merry was lying in the sofa bed in her nanny flat, downcast as a hurt hen.
I was myself immersed in my own caved despair. Heavy clouds of misfortune hung high over my head. I gazed at the dark raining sky. I could not understand why this happened again.
What a terrible life for me now. I can not escape its slavery of oppressing me. Luke had been long our headache. Recently we nurtured the hope that he can still maintain his job. But tonight, his words dashed all these threads of hopes into tatters.
I felt that the pillar supporting the house suddenly collapsed and buried both Merry and me alive in this debris of family.
I was in fear. I worried about life’s fickleness. I am planning also changing my job. Oh, my gosh, I shall stop any endeavour of looking for another job and just keep this current one to survive. I fear any changes. I simply want to be in a stable situation, familiar to my daily routine.
I walked in the corridor and paced back and forth. I soon gained my composure.
I told myself to be a man. I wanted to look forward, not mentally dwelling in the present. Things tomorrow will be good for me, for Luke and for our family.
I came back to Merry and coaxed her to sit up. I exchanged a few comforting words with her. She readily walked out of her dark tunnel.
I still had a good sleep last night.
