The Final Fulfilment
Walter turned off the computer on his desk in Accounts for the last time, stood up, put on his jacket and straightened his tie. He picked up the bag of his few private items from his desk and made his way to the canteen, where a large assembly of co-workers were awaiting him. He took a deep breath, straightened up and went forth to greet the crowd. It was a motley collection of average office individuals, dressed mainly in jeans and T-shirts. Gathered together for his farewell bash, the occasion was somewhat clouded by his nagging feeling of being out of place amongst his colleagues. He tried to disguise his distress at this unavoidable end to his working life, while his lips quivered, as he tried his best to contain his grief for a bygone era.
He looked around the room of familiar yet nameless faces and caught the eye of the young man who was designated to replace him, and he just managed to force a smile. He had tried to instruct the fellow, who he knew in his heart, was not up to the task. In fact, no one in that room could even assume to understand the workload he was about to abandon. The manager called for silence to perform the stiff ritual of presenting the leaving present. Walter knew it was coming; they knew so little about this very private man, that they had to ask him in advance, what would make him really happy. It was tricky to think of something to fit this category under the circumstances, but he had opted for an album for his stamp collection. If anything could occupy his excess free time, he could start sorting and sticking in his large collection of stamps that he had amassed during the past several decades.
While everyone put on the requisite ‘brave face’, as they envisaged life without him, he was oblivious to the palpable air of relief at his retirement. It would hardly have been decorous of them to skive off from the happening, as soon as he had been awarded his leaving gift, so they filled up with more white wine and lingered while he held his parting epilogue. Having laboured through the procedure, he was relieved to finally shake hands with the last man standing, and, hugging his booty and bag of belongings, he was off, to catch his bus home.
Arriving at his quaint little home on the outskirts of the village, where he had lived all his life, he ambled up the garden path with a bleak mood of finality. He had been dreading this moment actually, all his life. He moved mechanically towards the front door, and went in, making straight for the kitchen. He put on the kettle to make a cup of tea, and while he waited, he stared out into the garden, a bare little arrangement with a weed-ridden lawn. Suddenly, he saw a little dog, charging around on the grass. Forgetting his tea for a moment, he opened the back door and stepped outside. The little dog stopped in his tracks and ran over to Walter, and sat down at his feet, looking up into Walter’s tired face. As Walter looked down, he was instantly amazed. He was looking into the two most honest and vibrant eyes he had ever seen. He stared back down at the little dog and was shocked to feel himself become quite emotional. He bent down and touched the furry bundle, stroking him gently. He had never touched a dog before, and he was surprised at the pleasure it gave him. He instantly saw the tag on the collar which read ‘Chuckles’, and then a phone number. The little dog was enjoying the attention and gradually leaned against Walter’s knee, still looking up into his eyes.
Out of the blue, a voice was calling loudly and insistently, with an urgency that was penetrating. Suddenly Walter realised that a woman was calling for ‘Chuckles’. He located the voice on the other side of the fence and called back to her,
‘If you’re looking for a little dog, he’s over here.’ And then he spied a hole in the fence, that hadn’t been obvious before. He picked up the little dog and showed him over the fence to the lady next door. She looked so relieved and went over to the fence, stretching her arms out to take him. Just for an instant, Walter held onto Chuckles and hugged him close to his body . At that moment, he felt a surge of love and passion that made his eyes well up with tears. It seems that in that moment, Walter was feeling true love for the first time, and he would have loved to hold onto this mysterious but stirring emotion for ever.
I’m not sure who thanked who the most, as Walter finally handed Chuckles over the fence. But the hole at the base of the fence that the little dog had burrowed was never repaired. Each day when Walter’s neighbour went off to work, Chuckles crawled through the hole to a haven of love and attention and a long, beautiful walk by the river.
The stamps remained undisturbed in the box as did the farewell gift. Walter had entered the final and most rewarding phase of his life in a most unforeseen twist of fate, and won the best friend he had never had!
Photo: Stefan Wälti