Free as a bird
Walking up from the Subway at Bloor and Yonge, the first snow fall of the season kissed Tuan’s face. He turned to look around, checked his Rolex watch, it was only 5.30 in the evening and the city of Toronto already covered in darkness. The cool wind gently glide through Tuan’s skin as he making his way toward the penthouse on the 71st floor of the One Bloor Condo. At the door, Tony, the door-man, greeted Tuan with a gentle smile. In return, Tuan nodded in appreciation.
“I am sorry for you loss Dr. Tran.” Tony said.
Tuan stopped, looking at Tony sagged eyes, “Thank you.” He said, and moved along to the bright lite elevator that had waited for him. In the elevator Tuan wondered if it really was his loss? His father passed away 3 days ago. He should have mourned for the old man, but somehow he felt liberated. He felt free. For the first time in his thirty six years old life, he felt a chain that had been shackle around his body since birth had taken off. When his mother called and told Tuan his father just had a stroke and died in the way to the hospital, he didn’t feel a thing. He didn’t even bother to ask which hospital the old man had taken to. He didn’t feel any bit of sorrow to become fatherless. Instead, he felt he could breath easier. Should I feel sad? Tuan thought, after all I am his son. I should be ashamed of myself for having such feeling, Tuan talk to himself, as he often did when he no one was around. Decided not to seek for an answer, Tuan got off the elevator and into his home.
In the thirty-two hundred square foot penthouse, the dark sky lines was being light-up by the many thousand illuminations street lights. Tuan stood at the large window looking out into the darkness of lake Ontario filled with dots of green, red, blue lights, he felt he wanted to celebrate his new-found freedom. He went to his wine cellar and uncorked the 1999 Chteau Le Pin Pomerol. In front of the dark window a reflection of a tall Asian man, with pointy chin, and well define nose, dressed in Aramani Suite, held his glass up into the air. Cheers to my independent, Tuan announced. The man in the mirror held up the wine glass and took a gulf.
The aroma of mocha and black cherry filled Tuan’s nose. Tuan let out a big sigh like a prisoner finally finished his sentence. And in Tuan case it should be. Since birth he had been a puppet by his father. Everyday of his life had been told what to do. When he was in school, his cloth was prepared for every morning, his meal was carefully planned out, and his extracurricular activities was extensively arranged. The friends he had, to all the people that he knew, all had been well-screened by his parents, selected before he could even mingled. He didn’t have any decision in regard to his life; His life was like a doll and his father was the master, to do whatever he pleased.
Including Tuan’s career. His parents had a control in that too. He hated to be a doctor. Everyday, seeing the same sick people and writing the same prescriptions pad, nothing else was exciting. But being brought up as a well-groomed son, Tuan had no choice but to obey everything his dad desire. In the end, after thirty-six years he worked at a job that he hated, married to the woman he had no desire, and bored a child that he never wanted.
As of this moment I am free as a bird, Tuan said. His voice shook Kieu, the rottweiler, awake. Upon hearing Tuan’s voice, Kieu came and rested under his legs. Together they celebrated a new sense of living in the quietness of the penthouse, alone.
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