“Why would my neighbour execute such a thoughtless and irresponsible maneuver?” That was the first thought that came to my mind. Could it be that I refused to let her use my water because she seemed oblivious to her responsibility to cover her legitimate water expenses? She had made this same blunder several times before, and this reality served to blunt any anger I felt due to her apparent carelessness. I turned to the left and headed towards her apartment. When I arrived at the glass door entrance, I knocked firmly enough for her to hear, and soon she came out wearing a long blue robe. Ms. Agnes, I’m afraid you’ve locked me in, dear, and you already know that I go for a walk at this time of day. She said nothing, and after she unlocked the gate, I told her in a calm and gentle voice, “Why do you even bother to place a padlock on the gate? There is an installed bolt, and if you secure the gate from the inside, no one from outside can enter. She remained silent. I purposefully spoke to Ms. Agnes in a calm and gentle voice because she was only about four feet six inches tall, and I didn’t want to communicate in a way that would alarm her. I thanked her for opening the gate and left for my morning walk.
Already, I had wasted fifteen minutes, but I didn’t allow that fact to bother me. I continued on my journey, resting as needed because I had learned from all the YouTube videos I had watched that at my age of 75, I was suffering from Sarcopenia (the loss of muscles after the age of 60). Strangely enough, this phenomenon never bothered me until after I fell and fractured my fibula early one morning while walking on a very muddy road in April 2024. I had stopped my routine exercises out of necessity, but I subsequently came to regret it. We live to learn, and through these same educational videos, I discovered that Sarcopenia is a reversible medical condition. All I needed to do was implement some necessary dietary changes, combined with appropriate resistance exercises, to regain all the muscles I had lost and possibly build more. The number of times I needed to sit and rest was gradually decreasing because my buttocks, thighs, calves, and lower back muscles seemed to be recalibrating to adjust to my new routine. I had also started drinking a cup of green tea at least twice daily to detoxify my body, and this new intervention seemed to be bearing fruit. My feet weren’t getting as numb for as long or as frequently as they did previously.
Approximately two hours later, I arrived back at my domicile’s gate. A trip that usually would have taken only one hour was now taking me two hours. I attempted to open it, but it was securely and unmistakably locked. I picked up the nearest rock and started to pound on the large iron gate. Although I did this for five minutes, my efforts were futile. No response was forthcoming from within. I proceeded to the large, high block and steel western wall facing Yonka Paa Street, the road on which the residence was located. After climbing as high as the existing concrete structures allowed, I realized that the compromised musculature in my lower back, buttocks, thighs, and legs made it impossible for me to scale the wall. A feat that I had easily accomplished only last year before sustaining my injury. I walked to the other wall on the northern side of the property, examined its height, and, in the process, observed a table on the property next door. There was also a sturdy bench in one of the foyers of the nearby Roman Catholic Church under construction. I combined the table and the bench, but doing so only enabled me to reach a certain height. I still couldn’t climb over that wall. The condition of my weakened muscles was a significant impediment.
I stood on top of that hastily contrived structure, contemplating my next move and trying to figure out why my neighbor would even think of locking the gate. Since she knew that I was out for my diurnal walk and would soon return, she should have waited patiently. About thirty minutes had passed by that time, and then she appeared as she headed towards the locked gate. She didn’t see me, not only because I was on the external periphery of the wall, but because I was situated several feet above the height which nature had bequeathed her. However, before she could actually reach the gate, I interrupted the pervasive silence of the morning and her composure by saying, “Congratulations, Ms. Agnes, you actually succeeded in locking me out.” Apparently, I had startled her since she seemed to be in another world. “Mr. James, didn’t you pass me at this very gate one hour ago?” Was her questioning reply. “No, I did not,” I asserted, as I wondered what she was talking about. She said no more, but then I realized that she might be caught in a dream world, somewhere between reality and the twilight zone. I quickly descended from my perch on top of the table and the bench, returned them to their original locations, and then walked towards the unlocked and open gate. My neighbor handed me a key for the padlock she had installed on the gate. I took it, thanked her, and quietly hoped that I wouldn’t have to endure a similar ordeal anytime soon.
I didn’t dare to attempt walking again for a few days because of the heavy rains, which were normal at this time of the year. I clearly reminisced about my past misfortune last year, which resulted in my severe injury. If nothing else, I had learned the value of caution and wisdom. I made one trip to the nearby gym located on the grounds of the Green Gate Hotel. I had intended to pay the annual registration fee and sign up. However, after entering the facility, carefully observing and even using some of the equipment, I changed my mind. At first, I was disappointed that no one came to request the required fee or complete the customary procedure. But afterwards, I was grateful. Why would I even think of spending money on such outdated and dilapidated equipment? I never returned. Three days later, my neighbor came to see me. “Mr. James,” she said, “Did you leave the large double gate open?” I was embarrassed and mortified. I distinctly remembered opening those gates to allow a taxi cab to enter, which had transported five bags of drinking water for me. I became preoccupied with entering my own apartment from the rear of the building. To open the main entrance. So that the cab driver could carry the bags of water through the gate of my porch into my hall. That endeavour had eclipsed from my mind the importance of attending to the large entrance gates. “I’m very sorry, Ms. Agnes, and I apologise,” was my response.
(TO BE CONTINUED)
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