I did something really stupid today. I locked myself out.
Intended to go out for a short while to get some essential groceries, hence I picked up my bag and left the house in a jiffy, not realising that my keys AND my handphone wasn't in the bag (my keys usually are, which is why I usually don't check). Came back all happy, ready to cook some herbal chicken for dinner when (horror of all horrors) I. Realised. The. Keys. Weren't. In. My. Bag.
Pure panic. Brain working in overdrive.
I don't purposefully remember numbers. Especially not melbourne phonelines because they have even more numbers than Singapore lines. Which is bad when you don't have your handphone and need to make a call to get help. It was 530pm when I left the supermarket. Raywhite (the real estate agent whom I rented the house from) was closed when I passed it. No wait, I remembered that their lights were still turned on, even though it was after hours. I threw down my groceries and decided (impulsively) to run there, hoping to catch someone. I had to get to civilization/Clayton town anyway, in order to make calls.
Through the blinds, I saw a lady in one of the backrooms still working at the computer. I tried knocking on the door - no response. Went to the side windows to try to get her attention. Thankfully, she did look up after awhile. She came to the door, refusing to open up at 1st. Her command of English wasn't that good; she preferred for me to converse with her in Chinese. I explained to her my situation, and she said she'd try to get one of the agents while I waited outside. Unfortunately, none of them picked up. They probably want to leave work behind once it's after hours anyway. She finally let me in, seeing how dire my situation was. I later got to know her as Linda Yang.
We sat down at the desk and continued punching in numbers. She explained that she was in the sales department (and even then new at that) and thus didn't have the key to the safe which held all the spare keys for the houses they rented out. We finally got through to one of the agents (the one in charge of my house, no less) who brusquely told us she couldn't help us and that I had to get a locksmith. Okay, so now. Down that path to contact the locksmith. No answer. Shop was also closed for the night. She lamented that I may have to find somewhere to stay for the night (and here I dreaded barging in on Jas and Kerf again), and return in the morning to get my hands on one of the agents.
Then a brilliant idea clicked. What about the landlord? Surely he would have a spare key. She went to find my files for the landlord's number (I had this uneasiness that if they found out she did that, her job might be at stake - hence you cannot imagine how grateful I was). We tracked the landlord down and called him up. He said he did indeed have a spare key and that I could go retrieve it from him. Thank goodness. I got his address, and was all eager to make my way there.
Then Linda pulled another unexplicably kind gesture. She offered to send me there because she was worried for my safety, since it was already dark. I was lost for words, having already taken up so much of her time and all. But she gently willed me along, ushering me to her car.
We ended up having a really nice chat as we journeyed. I queried about her background, and found out that she was from Vietnam while her parents from China. They migrated to Australia to escape the harsh communist rule that demanded they give up all that they had to the government. She had been raising her 2 kids singlehandedly for the past 20 years (yes, we were still conversing in Chinese). She also mentioned random things like how my birthday was 1 day after her son's (she glimpsed the rent record while searching for the landlord's number) and that I was about the same age as her daughter. As much as she displayed her admiration for me for studying medicine so far away from home, I knew that there was so much more admirable qualities (undeniably, her kindness) about her, and told her so. As we collected the keys and bid farewell, I was immensely grateful to tears, and I could see she was welling up as well. Maybe it was the familiarity because we had the same roots, maybe it was my similarity to her kids, maybe it was the joy of helping another, or maybe a mixture of all three - it doesn't really matter. I knew her heart was touched as well.
They say we find love and selflessness in the most dire of situations, and I add, at the most dire times too. But for that to happen, we've to 1st be in that dire situation (in this case, self inflicted deep shit). Today, though I curse and swear at myself for forgetting my housekeys, I'm thankful for the reminder - of what it feels like when things spin out of control, of what it feels like to be dependent and in desperate need of help, of what it feels like when only a single soul is willing to help, and of what it feels like to be truly thankful and grateful.