Retirement

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He had good ears. He heard things. And he remembered what he heard, most of it, to be fare. Sitting quietly in his little cube with three sides bound by four feet tall wooden panels, looking at the bright monitor of his laptop, Andrew Jackson alias Andy to most, checked his watch for the zillionth time since he arrived at work this morning at around 7, his usual time. However, everything about today was anything but usual. It was his last day at work, a place where he had put thirty years of service working as a database admin. He was retiring at the ripe age of 65. Sixty-five. Hmmm. Years had passed by quickly.  A small black man, of Caribbean descent, he looked good for his age, though the belly had been protruding a bit lately, still not to the point that he couldn’t hide it under a medium sized tee-shirt. He had head full of hair, slightly thinning but was enough to make most men ten-fifteen years younger than him envious. He wore thick glasses, near sighted, had been since a young boy. And he had two exceptionally efficient ears. The one thing he took real pride in was his hearing. The guy who sat next to him, in his own little cube, Miller, Richard Miller to be specific, a tall, white man in his mid thirties had been on the phone with his wife since morning, on and off to accommodate work related interruptions, was discussing their failing finances. Whatever Miller made he lived much bigger than that, drove latest model BMW, wore six hundred-dollar jackets, and five hundred-dollar shoes. Andy could only imagine what kind of luxury his wife was into. They were blaming each other. Andy could only hear Miller talking on the phone, but it didn’t take a lot of imagination to assume what was being said from the other end. Andy was unable to suppress the smirk that kept on forcing out. This was the Miller who had once looked at his worn-out shoes and said something like, “Yeah! Shoes are not cheap!” Andy was mad. Hello Mr. Miller, as a senior DBA, I make more than you do. I just don’t go on in a frenzy to prove me rich. They are my shoes and I’ll wear them as long as I wish. It’s not about money, you rascal! He didn’t say anything. Miller had way with words and gestures, enough to make your blood boil. At one point during their conversations, Miller and his wife, things gotten heated, secrets came up, his one-time affair with her best friend, her infatuation with his buddy… he heard pieces of conversation with Miller denying his affair with one Shyla and alleging her ‘whoring with Jeffrey’. The Millers were at the brink of declaring a bankruptcy.  Would that happen before or after they separate? Miller’s office phone rung. He hung up his cellphone and took the call, a short one, about an open service ticket. He stood up, hunched over the chest high cubicle panel and issued a broad smile. “Last day, eh! I am really jealous of you, Andy. No damn work. Wake up at 10, listen to the news, eat breakfast, do the grocery, help your old lady cooking…it’s gonna be so much fun!” Andy wasn’t exactly sure if Miller was trying to be sarcastic or being serious. Help your old lady! You idiot! At least I am retiring with a lady in the house. When you retire there won’t even be a rat to welcome you. He just smiled, refrained from wasting any words on him. “No, really Andy, how does it feel?” Miller was leaning further into his cube now. How annoying can you be? “It feels great, Miller. Just great!” He said, locked his laptop and started for the washroom. On his last day in this office he didn’t want to have any awkward memories. How did he sit next to this moron for last five years? A moment longer seemed unbearable. On his way to the washroom, a sixty-yard stroll, he faced three of his colleagues, returning from an impromptu coffee break, probably the third since this morning, and it wasn’t even lunch time. Imran was born Pakistani, all smile, good natured. ‘Hi Andrew! Today is the big day, uh! How do you feel? Good, r-i-g-h-t? You must. I am so happy for you!” Andy liked the guy. In his early forties, he was a bearded man with heavy accent, being first generation immigrant, which sounded quite cute. He had joined the company ten years ago. They had been friends since. But he had issues. Often his service tickets stayed open much longer than they needed to be as he tried to manage his work and other businesses that he consistently pursued. Like most new immigrants he was ambitious. Sometimes Andy had to pick up his work and complete them. Imran never spoke about his businesses but considering he sat only two cubes away and operated part of his business from his cellphone – Andy already knew he was into buying and selling old cars, his brother in-law was a mechanic. They exploited potential buyers with falsified data to make rebuilt cars look more appealing.  The other guy, Anthony something, a last name he could never remember, was from the Caribbean’s, Barbados, to be more specific. Jolly big guy, a whole head and more above Andy. Speaking to him was an effort as Andy had to cock his head at sixty-degree angle. Anthony sat on the isle backing him. He had a phone card business. His customers frequently called him with issues and he served them right from the convenience of his office. Charmed with his humor and impressed with his friendliness, Andy still didn’t approve his activities. He never said anything but had always felt a silent grudge. In his thirty years he had never used company time to do private business. It was unconscionable. “Hey dude, today is the day huh! Today is the d-a-y!” Andy smiled, slapped lightly on Anthony’s raised hand, a high five. This was Anthony’s trade mark. You couldn’t go past him without high-fiving him. Andy felt this was rather a bit disrespectful. What if I don’t feel like high-fiving you? He usually obliged. Anthony talked behind, didn’t take rejection very well. Andy had heard him saying things about other people. Terrible things. And then the lady between the two men, Angelina Polanski, no relation to the famous movie maker. She was the prettiest thing you would ever see. The blonde glistening hair, the flashing white teeth, the beautiful doe eyes with long lashes, and the shapely figure – a perfect specimen of female gender. No wonder Irfan and Anthony went for frequent coffee breaks with her. Just being seen in her company could make a lot of men quite jealous. She had been with the company for just two years. Already a popular figure, she was known for her bubbly, pleasant personality, popular among management. She sat on the other side of Anthony, a wall between. She had a boyfriend, a real good-looking football playing stud, dozens of pictures of the two pinned on the walls of her cubicle -  a great looking couple, a pleasant experience for the eyes. “Andy! Andy! I am going to miss you so much!” She hugged him lightly, her otherwise sparkling eyes turned little sad. “You’ll be okay, right? After you retire? What are your plans? Travel? You said you wanted to visit Europe. Will you?” “Not now. Maybe next year. Just want to take a break from everything and relax.” “Of course! Of course! Either way, I am going to miss you. You helped me so much!” He did. She had joined here with little to no experience. Andy had trained her. She was sharp. She learned quick. And she acknowledged it. He went past the group. Angelina was all set to go to Italy in a month-long site seeing trip. Her boyfriend couldn’t go with her. Couldn’t take time off from work. She was sad to go alone, but what else could she possibly do? Wasn’t it the best time to be there? Oh well! Andy’s ears picked up stuff during her candid phone call with a friend. She had met somebody online, an actor in Italy. This had been going on for just couple of months. They had decided to meet. How romantic would that be! In the streets of Rome or on the canals of Venice with the handsome Italian… She was excited! He met a few more guys in the urinal. These guys didn’t work with him but sat in nearby cubicles. If you just pay enough attention when things are bit quiet making even a low voiced conversation stand out, or when you just walk by their cubicles hearing them making personal calls, or when they talk on their cellphones walking near the windows away from prying ears and you happened to be sitting at the table nearby the windows or when they are having an important conversation in the small empty kitchenette and you just walk in to fill up your water bottle – you can definitely hear things. All kind of things. You just have to be willing. The black guy with a big grin, standing next to him, was humming some unknown song. They locked their eyes for a moment and both nodded. Yeah, I know you. Andy knew more than he needed to. This man, Leonardo Gray, had his divorce final just the week before. He laughed and charmed everybody around him, few had any clue what he had been going through. His wife had taken his only son, a four-year-old curly haired cuddly kid. He had drinking issues, even before the divorce, possibly leading to the divorce, now it was quickly getting out of hand. The short Indian guy on his right who urinated with such devotion that you might wonder if he was meditating. With his eyes closed, breathing softly, face calm, he looked focused. His name was Mrinal Das. A young man, in his late twenties, he was dealing with critical illness in his family. It was his mother who had been diagnosed with cancer and might not have too many days left. A new immigrant, Mrinal’s parents still lived back in India. He wanted to go back and take care of his mother but was unable to take time off work. A third-party contractor, he was afraid to quit. He needed the job, he needed the money. The lanky, tough looking Caucasian male washing his hands under the faucet, Slava, a Russian, had a big fight with his manager just the other day. He was afraid the manager might try to terminate his employment on false ground. If she did, he had sworn to do something terrible to her. Visiting Slava’s neighbor, who sat in the cubicle to his right, Andy couldn’t help but overhear Slava sharing his morbid thoughts with a friend over the phone. Hearing too much had its problem too. Andy just hoped Slava didn’t lose his job and nothing bad happened to the manager. He didn’t want anybody to get hurt.      On his way back from the washroom he took the long way, around the clusters of cubicles, spoke to people he knew beyond ‘hello’, remembering their secrets, pieces of their lives. All these years he had known so much about them, had no problem carrying them secretly, but now, today, as his end here had come, he was suddenly in a dilemma wondering what should happen to all that knowledge. He could just try to forget them, or use them for some short of twisted pleasure, now that he would have abundance of time. Lena from HR came running. She was big, beautiful and exceptionally energetic. Years ago, she had a big crash on him. The petite woman next to her cube, Rosemary, was the woman he had a huge crash on. Nobody said anything, ever, but he had always known about Lena’s feelings and sort of knew Rosemary must have known about his. “Last day, eh?” Lena was blocking his way, her large, round face had a pinch of sadness hidden underneath a broad smile that made her eyes almost disappear. “Yeah! Finally.” Andy said, his eyes went past Lena, looking for Rosemary. Her cubicle was empty, no handbags or coats. She didn’t come today or left early. It was hard to lose Lena. Maria was next. A proud lesbian, led the local branch of the LGBTQ group. Andy liked her, a young, pretty girl, but he didn’t really understand same sex stuff. Maria was cheating her partner with a woman who worked in Development. This he heard from Lena, a reliable source of all gossips and facts and possibly lot of fictions in this floor.    Robert from Networking group, with short beard and thick glasses, was standing in the middle of the isle, eyes squeezed, checking him out, the rotten disrespectful ass. “So?” He said, with a smirk on his face. Andy wanted to slap the smirk out of his face. In all his years of working in information technology jobs he had seen a handful of morons. This creep was one of them. ‘So’ your ass you stupid fuck! He remembered the time when Robert sent a memo to the management blaming him for causing a network related issue. He had done a mistake, agreed, but the asshole didn’t have to broadcast that. He smirked back at Robert and briefly said. “Yeah!” Going past him, he worked hard to keep his cool. It wasn’t just one incident. The jerk had targeted him whenever an opportunity came. Questioning his skill, his age, his knowledge. Angry, Andy had taken specific effort to find dirt on him, and got some. He had spousal abuse issues, with police visiting twice. No case was filed but it could be a good start. …a good start…? Hmmm…Now that he was retired, he had time. A lot of it. With little effort and motivation, he could easily find more dirt on Robert, enough to annoy him. And, while he were at it, why not take care of few others who had given him trouble, made things difficult for him. He had dirt on a lot of people, without even trying, people who conducted personal and business affairs right from the convenience of their office, giving away secret information on the phone, credit card numbers, answers to secret questions, sin numbers, and what not. Nobody knew he was listening, whether he wanted to or not, he heard and remembered, and sometimes even noted down. Just in case. A notebook full of information, things about people all around him, things that was private, important. The notebook. It was not something he was proud of, a rather odd thing for him to do, but with age his memory was going. Writing them down seemed like a rational idea.      At 2 PM they gave him a small informal retirement go away party in the open space near the washrooms, next to the windows facing Lake Ontario at a distance. A lot more people came than he had imagined, easily sixty-seventy, all his colleagues, Lena, Maria and their teams, even the moron Robert, still holding that smirk between his lips. Wait you rascal. There’s so much damage one could do in the social media now-a-days, it was simply unbelievable. There were speeches, managers, directors, even a vice president stopped by, took the pain to utter a few good words, all for good old Andy, and then they shoved him in the middle of the semi circle of people and asked him to talk. He talked. There was not much to say. Thirty years had gone by. Came and went. All the memories of the place, the words, the secrets were humming in his mind. What there was to say? Thank somebody? Who? Tell them what he was up to? Why? None of them ever stepped in his house, with a few rare exceptions. They were not part of his life outside this office. It all seemed so bleak, meaningless. Then they cut a big cake and offered him a large calorie crammed piece. He liked cakes. He ate. Took a second one. Watched everybody eating their cakes. Most had already forgotten about him. They hummed about other things as they ate, him already gone, past.   And then, like a second thought, somebody announced about a gift, someone else brought him a large nicely packed box wrapped in blue with a happy retirement card signed by bunch of people. Someone made a lurid joke about the gift, laughter followed, several other jokes…at this point Andy was feeling down. They didn’t get it. Did they? Thirty years of habit, most productive part of his life, and these morons were laughing about it! Did they even know what he had on them? Half the people who were surrounding him, bits of cake still stuck on their lips, did they realize he knew all kind of secrets about them -   he didn’t even have to try, they just came to him. When all that farce stopped it was half past 2 in the afternoon. His manager came to say bye. He had to go in a meeting and won’t be back before five. He wanted to wish him luck. Andy didn’t like him. The guy looked innocent, even friendly but had done very little beside making things complicated for him. He never wanted to move to Oracle, being a DB2 expert. He was forced, given practically little choice. Asshole! No wonder his wife left him for another man. A gutless, sneaky man! Andy even had her number. He overheard the manager giving it to someone, was it the lawyer? Andy wrote it down, wasn’t sure why. Just in case if it ever came into any use. Now, here he was. Finally, that information may come into some use. What could he possibly say to her? Maybe just pretend to be her ex-husband and say some horrible things. That ought to get this creepy, back stabbing guy into some kind of nasty problem. He felt a quirky pleasure just thinking about it. Yeah, it would be very mean of him, but well deserving nonetheless. He gathered up a few things he had in the cubicle, the family picture, couple of personal pens, a small art, a soft stress reliever ball and a pair of sneakers- he went to walk after lunch every working day, religiously. When he left at 3 PM, nobody noticed. People had work to do, they all got busy. On the door someone briefly said, “So, that’s it, huh? Good luck.” Before he had a chance to say thank you the man was gone. He probably had a meeting at 3. Had to rush. He was running late. That happens sometime. For a split-second Andy felt this devastating feeling of his heart sinking to nothing. All that time at home with his old lady! Kids were gone. Wife was loving, but wasn’t that too much time to be spending around her? Wouldn’t she get bored of seeing him 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, 365 days…  Would gardening, woodwork, travelling be enough to make things keep interesting day after day? Probably not. He had to get innovative. He wasn’t going to allow himself to be miserable or bored, not when he had wealth of information to keep him busy for a life time. Not do any real harm, just a little fun to spice things up. It would be okay, wouldn’t it? Stepping into the empty elevator, he took a deep breath. It would be okay. The pristine emptiness that flashed before his eyes moments ago were just baseless fear. There was so much to be done. You’d all see. Andy won’t be bogged down by petty retirement. Actually, now that he thought about it, it wasn’t even going to be much of a retirement.