The Wooden Leg (standard:romance, 2752 words)
Author: bharat	Added: Feb 04 2003	Views/Reads: 3427/2442	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
A story about a gentleman, working in Redhill London (in winter of '95) and creating magic of what dreams are made of. It is a story about Amanda and The Wooden Leg.

Click here to read the first 75 lines of the story

crumbs down my chin, it must be an achievement to be a baker and still 
be spanking clean). She had the most beautiful brown eyes I had ever 
seen and she had a dreamy voice that could hypnotize. 

I had no ID tags and hence I was "Sir". 

As I was looking at the only customers, an elderly couple making up
their minds on which of the breads they would like, she turned around 
and like always with a smile said 

"How may I help you, Sir?" 

I am usually prompt at such questions. I always know what I want and am
always sure of what I need. It took me, what I would perceive as 
eternity to answer... 

"May I have two of the pecan Danish and one toast vegetable sandwich
with salt and pepper, please?" 

She turned back to her world and began processing the order.... 

I do not know why, but between software development and microwave
dinners, badminton and swimming she occupied a fair amount of my 
thoughts. I have talked to her in my daydreams about everything under 
the sun. In real life, though I have visited MMs quite often, the 
conversations have been restricted to the delicacies in the bakery and 
the weather, occasionally the football game the previous evening. 

The elderly couple had paid and the door chime jingle and I was the only
customer being served. 

You are still wondering about the wooden leg aren't you? We are almost
there.... 

The pecan Danish was in the box and the sandwich was next in turn... 

"Would you like to have tomatoes in the sandwich, Sir?" "Yes, Please,
thank you" 

"It'll take about six minutes for the toasted sandwich, is that ok?" (I
wanted to say, "Oh that long, Nikkei in Tokyo will open as we speak and 
I could lose a million for a sandwich!!! ") 

All I said was "Sure, No problem, I'll wait" 

I started looking keenly (or so it seemed to any onlooker) at the
Christmas cakes with the small cream Christmas trees, Santa's sledge 
and the leaves of holly, just so that I would stare at her... 

As she was putting the sandwich in the toaster, she remarked... "Weather
is getting pretty worse isn't it"? "Yeah, It is probably going to be 
the coldest winter in the last seven years" I said. 

I was well updated about the weather thanks to the BBC. They had been
kind enough to provide the maximum temperatures for the last seven 
years as well. I was also aware of the best guess temperature for this 
year. 

"Are you spending your Christmas here in Redhill?" She asked. "Yep, I'm
going back home in January. I can't wait to get back to India." "Oh! Is 
your family here?" "Nope, they are back home!" "That's kinda sad" I 
smiled and nodded. 

It would probably be difficult to explain that missing deepavali was
more dramatic that this Jingle bell Christmas, but to her, it was the 
biggest event of the year. And, being away from home was probably 
comparable to being condemned in hell. 

"What about you? Your folks here in Redhill?" I asked. "No, They are in
Wales, I came to London to study. I have just completed my A-Levels in 
systems design from Surrey University. I am going back to Wales for 
good next weekend. Probably find a job in systems management there." 

She looked at the toaster . "Just a couple of more minutes." 

"That's fine. You make good sandwiches, Amanda". That was dumb I
thought. "You make good." boy-o-boy I thought I was off my rockers. 
What is it that I was trying to pull off? 

"Thank you" She said. "What's your name?" "Barry", I said, I was sure
that she would never, like most Brits, be able to pronounce my real 
name. "Ah! Nice to know you" "The pleasure is all mine," I said. 

Thank goodness, the toaster took ten minutes that is 600 seconds.
Einstein, theory of relativity, time is not linear etc. I have wanted 
to ask Amanda out for quite some time. But have never been able to get 
past the weather and the football. 

Another few moments of awkward silence, my palms were sweating and the
heart racing a few beats faster, the thought "Should I. No, I should 
not.what if?" I looked at her for a moment and with a lump in my 
throat, I opened my mouth and said something that sounded like. 

"I was wondering if." 

TRRRRRRRINGGGGGG Beep Beep. The toast was done, just the very moment the
door jingles, and a father and daughter walked in. I heard him murmur 
something about a birthday cake he had ordered. 

My toast went out of the toaster into the aluminum foil and into the
brown paper bag, followed by my pecan Danish. Amanda turned around 
jingled the cash register, wrote something on the bag and said. 

"That'll be three pounds seventy pence, thank you". 

Smiling (That I could have made a fool of myself), I handed her four
pounds in coins and she returned back the thirty pence with a bigger 
smile and say, "Do visit again, Sir.   Barry!" 

I opened the door, (Yeah Yeah and the stupid Jingle) and could have
sworn that I heard Amanda say "Barry." 

I turned around, and what I could call barely a whisper, I heard her
tell me that she had written her telephone number on the bag and asked 
me to call her. I was still staring at her. 

She said, "Call me" as in "Call ME" as in "CALL me". I was still gaping,
finding it difficult to comprehend. I guess I could have been 
daydreaming. An extension to my fantasy. Nope, It was not a dream, 
'cause I heard amidst a laugher "Hello!! Anybody home?" 

"Sure, Bye". 

I walked back to the town centre, on the way home. As I have said
before, I was a cold snowy night. Nevertheless, I was warm inside. If 
you have ever seen the fireworks at Disneyland Paris on eve of Mickey's 
birthday, they would not compare to the ones inside. 

This was her last week in Redhill, and she would be gone forever. 

At this point in the story, you are still wondering about the wooden
leg, aren't you? Well this is last of the chapters. If you have read so 
far, then you are a very patient person. 

I wanted to call her the next day. That would be too impatient. 

The next couple of days were quite hectic as we were rolling out
software and like always, rollouts are a bigger mess than horseshit. 
Software gurus can never be able to master the art of rolling out 
software. During those days, I would occasionally slip into daydreams. 
even in meetings. 

The next day was Friday. A hectic day. I did lapse into daydreams while
working. Coming back to reality was harsh. 

I was in a hurry to get back home. I would call her from home. In office
I am well prepared for meetings and status updates, this was different, 
the preparation to call her, talk to her and what would I talk about? 
What would I ask? What would she ask? Moreover, what would I tell? The 
thoughts were playing the roller coaster in my mind. 

I reached home early. It was only 8:45 PM. I went by the telephone, and
sat staring at the telephone for a long time, a very long time. Then 
will all the courage and a little bit of scare, picked up the receiver 
to put it down again. Finally at 9:15 I managed to dial her number. 

I heard the sweetest "Hello" at the other end. WOW IT WAS SHE. "Amanda?"
"Yes, it is!" "Hi! This is Barry, We met at ..." "Hi Barry, How are 
you? Nice of you to call" 

Then she told me about her shopping and her packing and I went on
nodding like a yo-yo, Listing attentively, but the thoughts in my mind 
were running wild. 

I distinctly remember a pause and then the words flew out of my mouth. 

"Would you like to go out for dinner tomorrow? This is your last week
and I thought... "Would love to, that's a nice way to ask for a date" I 
laughed. "Where?" she asked. "You decide", I said" "Pick me up at 8:00. 
", she said, ""My address is 13 Wordsworth Mead, upper bridge road. 

That was just down the road from where I lived. That would mean I would
not have to search her house. 

Saturday started a drab day. Nothing much to do the whole day, except
wait until evening. Apart from deciding what to wear and what to say, 
there was nothing much. Laundry and cooking had taken a holiday and 
apart from sitting in the armchair, there was nothing much I could 
think of. My Lewis Jeans, my red checked shirt and my brown leather 
jacket made me look a real cowboy. 

I was ready by about 7:15. The clock was unkind and wait endless. At
about 7:45 I strolled down the road and at about 7:48 I was already 
there... Early as usual. I rang the doorbell. Her room-mate (I 
presumed, opened the door). 

"HI! I'm Barry, May I speak to Amanda please.". 

She sent out the loudest scream I had ever heard "AAAMMMAAANNNDDDAAA. 

And she strolled out of her room, dressed in black trousers and a tweed
jacket. I have to repeat myself, a real angel. She smiled, I smiled, 
the nervous smile of the "what next?". She got her coat and we strolled 
out of the house. The silence in our walk was unbearable. 

I mumbled "So where are we off to.." 

"It's a surprise," she said, "Hope you like walking, it's a long walk"
"I love to walk in the evenings" I responded. (In freezing cold) 

We talked a bit more about India and Wales and studies and weather and
the travelling, software and whales, but that's not the point of the 
story. My mind was at rest, since I did not have to choose a place for 
the dinner. 

We ended up in an oldish looking oak frame dim lit, English
restaurant/pub somewhere north of Redhill. It looked like a sailors and 
ships and pirates theme. It was a nice cozy place and Amanda was the 
one leading and I was the most ardent follower. We did get a table near 
the window, with a view of the Buckleworth Stables. No, we did not see 
horses. 

I ordered fries and a lager, and she went for white wine and a mushroom
quiche. In midst of our endless talking, I thought I would never fall 
out of love again. Well, at least the fantasy is real! 

Again the theory of relativity took its tool and two hours seemed like
two minutes. We did call for a roadrunners cab and I dropped her home. 
We exchanged good-byes, as we were sure that we would not see each 
other again. I wanted to kiss her goodnight, but I knew, I would never 
forget that for the rest of my life, we just shook hands and parted. 

It has been 4 years since that fateful day, of the endless possibilities
that life has offered; life could have taken turns that would have made 
it so different. Even today, my fantasies are mine and if I am in love, 
I so choose to be. 

And you are still wondering about the wooden leg aren't you? 

Well, I recently went to Japan on a business trip and I had to carry the
same warm clothes that I had. I had worn my lovely brown jacket after a 
very long time. I put my hands in my pocket as I went strolling down 
Nakano-Ku for an early dinner and I found a paper napkin, folded 
neatly, a bit torn around the edges, it also had the brown color of my 
jacket. On the corner were the words. 

"The Wooden Leg" "Redhill's best Pub" 

-- by Bharat Shah


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