Gilly spoke in a soft, clear voice.
"This is Billy's story of trying to help someone, when he made his first billion dollars. This is how he lost one of the great loves of his life.
He grew up in a working class neighbourhood. His parents were struggling - his father could not work much since he was seriously injured at work. His mother was always at home busy with all the chores and raising his two sisters and brothers. Billy was the middle kid. He was always a bit different from others. He did not take the easy way out. He struggled in school, in his first jobs. He was always full of ideas and passion. He would try new things. He realised early on that he needed others to help him achieve his goals. He always appreciated the help he received, even little gestures, words and feelings that he received from others. He had a strong sense to give back, to help those who helped him and to help others who have never done a thing for him.
Billy struggled through school. He did not enjoy the process and structure there. He drifted after finishing high school and a couple of years of college. He always seemed busy working many jobs as a mechanic, a waiter, a tutor and immersed in his own little projects that his family and friends never seemed to know about. There were a few in his circle who did. One of them was Harold, an old man who lived down his street in an apartment building at ground level. It had a tiny front yard - fenced and gated. It was overhung by the balcony of the apartment above. Billy had met and befriended him while still in high school. Billy found in this man what he could not with his own parents, someone with time and inclination to listen and talk to him about anything.
Harold looked about in his 70s or 80s and walked slowly with a shuffle. He was often in the company of a young girl, in a ponytail, in a wheelchair, who he pushed around the yard or took for a spin around the block. Billy has seen her parents, a surly looking middle-aged couple who, presumably were the parents and an young man who visited them rarely. They never bothered to wave back or return Billy's greetings. He once got a nod from the man and a strange smile, more like a smirk from the woman.
Often, when Billy walked by, he would wave a greeting to Harold. Harold always responded with full attention and with obvious friendliness. One day as Harold walked alone, slowly, Billy did not have the heart to simply greet and move along at his own pace. He walked with him slowly all the way around the block chatting, They got to know each other a little. Harold always listened attentively and quietly. He always waited for Billy to finish his burst of talk. He would then always say or ask something that let Billy know he had listened carefully. Often what he said would be very useful to Billy, when he later thought about it, or when he looked back after events. A friendship grew between the two. One afternoon, when it was wet outside as Billy walked by, Harold invited him in. Harold lived in a small room, next to the garage. The family he lived with were his distant relations.
Harold offered Billy a piece of warm freshly baked apple crumble. The young girl in the wheel chair too was there. Harold sat on the bed, Billy in one of the two chairs beside it and the young girl pulled her wheelchair next to him.
Harold introduced the two shy youngsters to each other. The girl - Clare, was Harold's grand -niece. Her parents had taken him in and given him a place to stay in exchange for his pension and life savings that he gave them so that they could put in a deposit and buy the apartment. They had a mortgage that they were still paying. Clare's parents both worked - the father - Karl, worked as a clerk in a government job and the mother - Dolores (everyone called her Dolly) worked at the local market. Clare was Karl's daughter from a previous marriage. Her mother had died a few years ago. Dolores was not a loving step-mother. Her older son - Bruce, from her previous marriage occasionally visited them from another town.
Billy and Harold continued to chat more as Billy grew older, often on Harold's rounds of pushing Clare around the block. Billy sometimes did the pushing and once almost let her slip off the kerb into traffic. He was shaken by that, but Harold and Clare were calm and smiling. Clare was mostly silent. Billy suddenly realised the feeling of great responsibility for someone else's life and how terrible he would feel if something bad had happened. He had never thought about it until this incident. He was amazed and thankful for the grace and understanding of Clare and Harold.
There were a few times, Billy was invited in to Harold's room, but strangely only when Clare's parents were not home. Billy gathered an impression that they did not much like him and would not welcome him. Once, when Billy was there, Clare dashed out of Harold's room in her wheelchair upon hearing her mother's voice from the front yard as she returned home early from work.
One Christmas, Billy stopped by to drop off a small Christmas gift for Harold and Clare. He pushed the bell at the gate. Karl came out looking a bit annoyed.
"Speak of the devil! HAROLD!! He is here himself!" Karl shouted. "Want to ask him in?"
"No need, I'll get it for him," Harold's muffled voice came from the house.
Harold had baked a crumble and saved a portion for Billy. Karl and Dolly were apparently not were giving him a hard time and discussing Billy just then.
Karl kept Billy waiting outside, in the bitter cold, watching his discomfiture with a smile on his face. Billy could not understand why Karl hated him.
"What are you here for? Your Christmas gift from the old man?," he asked teasingly, contempt evident in his voice.
"No, I have brought something for him," said Billy. He had the presence of mind not to mention that he had something for Clare. He made a mental note to try and hide his gift for her. He would try to give it to her some other time, if at all.
Suddenly, a thought seemed to cross Karl's mind.
"You! Come on in, for just a minute," Karl signalling towards Billy with his finger.
Billy fumbled with the gate, packages in one hand."
Gilly paused to take a sip of her drink.
Sarita said, "I am curious Gilly. How do you know so much? So many details.. You speak almost as if you were there."
"Well, Sarita, that is perceptive of you," replied Gilly, impressed,"I have known Billy for a long time. I was his psychological counsellor since shortly after this saga. I first met him as his counsellor."
"Oh! Would he be OK with your sharing his story with us?" asked Shanta.
"Yes, of course. In fact, we expected it would come up sometime or the other and prepared for it," said Gilly with a smile.
"What about Ken, he seems to know Billy for a long time too," wondered Sarita aloud, then checked herself quickly,"Sorry, I digressed, please continue Gilly."
"That's OK, Sarita. I was coming to that part anyway. Ken has known Billy for longer than I have. Ken used to be one of Clare's therapist and coach," said Gilly.
"Oh!! Is that so?" said Sarita.
"I am sorry, but I cannot contain my curiosity too. Was there something between Billy and Clare then? Is it what I suspect?" the woman's intuition in Shanta kicked in.
Gilly laughed! A bunch of women were the same everywhere in the world. They wanted to know, had great hunches and could not contain themselves.
"Well, you two guessed it. Yes, Clare was one of Billy's great loves. It was not so obvious in the early days," said Gilly.
"Now, please continue with your story from where you left off then. I cannot wait to hear the end of it. You are quite a story-teller." Sarita curled up her feet on the couch. Shanta and Gilly laughed and did the same.
"Now, where was I?" asked Gilly, smiling slightly.
"Billy was trying to get past the gate with the Christmas gift!" reminded Sarita.
"Ah yes! " continued Gilly, "He made it without any help from Karl. Who led him to the front door and inside into a cosily warm, living room. Clare was in a corner next to a Christmas tree. She appeared to be doing something with the decorations.
Karl mockingly said out loudly,"We too can be nice folks, hospitable and welcome anyone in from the street. See Harold? Your friend is here. Hey, you young rascal, let's see what you have got for him!"
Karl stretched out his hand towards Billy and demanded Harold's gift.
Billy did not want to make a scene. He took one of the packages and handed it to Karl reluctantly.
"Who is the other one for?" asked Karl.
"Not for Harold, someone else," said Billy quietly, trying to tuck it into his inner coat pocket.
Harold came into the room, carrying a small tray with a large slice of freshly made apple crumble.
Dolly, followed him. As Billy said,"Hello, Merry Christmas." to her, she waved him towards a seat in the room.
"Sit down. Better not eat standing," she said brusquely.
Billy sat down and ate the crumble, while Harold sat across from him. Karl shook the package that was Harold's gift and joked. He then thrust it towards Harold, who took it calmly. He smiled a thanks at Billy. Clare sat expressionless and watched from her wheelchair.
Billy felt awful at the atmosphere in that house. He ate quietly. He was thankful that he did not attract any attention towards Clare.
"So, what do you do young man? I mean other than hang around the neighbourhood wasting your time and others? What do you do to try and earn a living or support your hardworking parents?" Karl asked.
Billy's mouth was full. So, he had a chance to calm himself down and give a considered reply.
"I work a couple of jobs now and am trying to start a business," he replied in an even, collected tone, after chewing and swallowing the bite he had.
"Business??!! You are in business? What business are you in Mr. Businessman?" Karl was amused.
"Well, I am still trying to work it out, but it might be in the area of recycling waste," said Billy.
"So, you are not a business man yet? Not yet made a profit?" asked Karl starting to laugh.
"No, Sir. Not yet," said Billy.
"What is holding you back?" demanded Karl.
"Some ideas are not clear yet to act on them," said Billy.
"Well, not everyone can be a businessman. Anyone can call themselves a businessman. There is no law against it!! One needs CLEAR ideas and goals to be a successful businessman," Karl pontificated.
"Oh?" said Billy
"Yes, now. I could easily be a businessman. I know what EXACTLY is holding me back," he waved his hands around to take in everything and everyone around him,"It is all this. This house and everyone in it," he explained. Billy detected some honesty in his tone.
"If only I had the mortgage for this house paid off," Karl said feelingly,"I would not have to work at my crap government job.I could follow any of the dozen ideas I have for business. I have friends in the wood business and I could easily make a fortune collecting special wood scraps in the countryside and selling them for huge profit in the city. I have everything worked out, but I cannot afford to take the step and last the six months it will take before we make a profit.
It is my misfortune that I am shackled by this house and everyone in it. If I were free of the mortgage, I would in be business and rolling in the money in six months! I still work at this job because it is secure and pays enough to get by.I don't want to put these people at risk. It will take me another fifteen years to pay off this house."
Karl was waxing eloquent as a martyr to the cause of his family, near and dear ones.
"Well, he is not the only one who is sacrificing his life for this family. I work more hours at the market than he does at the office," Dolly pitched in, suddenly competing with Karl.
They both looked at Harold and Clare with that look of unappreciated do-gooders.
Billy soon left after saying goodbye and waving in the general direction of Dolly and Clare. Clare looked at him leaving without any expression.
A week after Christmas, one day Billy was in Harold's room with Clare. When Harold went to use the bathroom, Billy handed his Christmas present to her. It was slightly crumpled but still intact.
"I got this for you for Christmas, but was afraid of giving it to you that day," explained Billy.
"Thank you Billy. I have nothing for you. I am sorry," she said simply.
"That is OK, Clare," said Billy and meant it. He saw her open her present, it was a little notebook with a fancy cover and a pen holder. She smiled happily and tucked it away in a little bag, under the seat of her wheelchair. Later, he would get notes from her, written on the pages of that very notebook."
"Oh! So sweet! When did they fall in love? When does Ken come into the picture?" asked Sarita.
"I will tell you, after I take a break," said Gilly, getting up and signalling toward the ensuite.
"Me next," said Sarita.
Shanta and Sarita too stood up and stretched their legs.
Copyright (c) Kannan Narayanamurthy 2016
All rights reserved
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