Katherine and I started off on the wrong foot. Maybe because we found each other intimidating. We were strangers when we first bumped into each other at the bookstore. I was looking for a book when I found the last copy on the shelf. I reached out to get it when Katherine appeared from behind me, grabbed it and put it in her basket.
“Excuse me, I was going to buy that,” I turned around to find a tall thin woman with short hair staring back at me. She looked at me and smirked.
“You snooze, you lose,” she replied instead. With that said, she turned her heels and marched towards the counter and paid for the book.
I stood in front of the fiction shelf and was flabbergasted. Never in my life had I met someone as rude as her. Bumping into the rude woman became a norm no matter if it was at the mall, the bakery or the petrol station. When my family and I went for a hike during the weekend, we saw her and her friends. We were practically strangers, so we didn’t wave or even greeted one another.
The week after that, I went to the market and again, saw her. She lugged a shopping cart behind her with bags of vegetables in it. She was looking at the last papaya when from far I knew what I had to do. I walked towards her and as she was about to pick up that ripe papaya, I beat her to it.
“How much is this?” I asked the fruit seller.
He took that papaya and weighed it before telling me the price. “Do you want it?”
“Yes,” I took out the money from my purse without looking at the rude woman, who was probably as shocked as I was when I was at the bookstore.
“I was going to buy that,” she tapped me on the shoulder when the seller gave me the fruit.
“You snooze, you lose,” I quoted from her and sauntered away with a grin on my face.
It was funny how a stranger can affect my life that way. After the market incident I felt guilty for what I did. I couldn’t believe I stooped to that woman’s level. I wasn’t brought up that way, and it wasn’t my goal to treat people badly. Needless to say, I was disappointed at myself.
Days later, I caught a glimpse of the same woman at a coffee shop. She was alone and I was too, but I had no intention of being her friend. We ignored each other, and I ordered my lunch and ate quickly. She did the same. I finished first, and I walked to the cashier to pay for my food. While waiting for my change, I turned to look at her to see that she was in a daze. She looked paler than usual, and her mind was elsewhere.
“Hello, this is your change,” the cashier waved his hand in front of me when I didn’t hear him. I took my change and when he was about to serve the next customer I stopped him.
“Can you also count the amount for table two?” I asked pointing to the woman’s table. “I’ll pay for her meal.”
After paying, I left the shop feeling glad to be able to do so. I didn’t think much of that woman and very slowly, I stopped seeing her everywhere I went. Maybe I stopped searching for her. I wished she was doing well wherever she was.
On a sunny Friday afternoon when I was baking loaves of butter cake and dinner rolls, a moving truck pulled up next door. I heard a honk and people started talking. After putting the batter into the oven, I went back to the living room to observe the ongoing activity next door. A family of four became my new neighbour after the house next door had been left vacant for a year. I liked the quietness but with a new neighbour, it might be better.
By evening the moving truck left and it was quiet. I placed my baked goods in a basket hoping to welcome my new neighbour. I walked next door with my freshly baked goods and confidently, I rang the doorbell.
“Hi. Welcome to the neighbourhood,” I started awkwardly, not great at being a conversationalist. “I’m Darlene. I live next door. This is for you and your family.”
I gave him the basket, and he took it with a smile.
“I’m Joey,” he introduced himself when his wife and two children joined him from behind. “This is my wife, Katherine and these are Grace and Kyle.”
“We’ve met,” Katherine stated and I nodded, unsure what to say. Just when I thought she was gone, she became my next door neighbour.
When I was ready to leave, Katherine stopped me, “Thank you for paying my meal the other day. Now that we are neighbours, I would like it if we can start over.”
“I would like that very much,” I agreed.
Carina Lim bears different messages through her fiction. These messages could be useful in life. She can be contacted at mermaidgal03@yahoo.com
