Besides lending me a few pieces of important tools, Pat turned up one day with a gem of a gift. It was a boltless system rack, one which no men would refuse in his garage. It came at a good time, as every time I visited Savvy Steve's new house to do up the place, I filled the car to the brim with items. Then I unloaded them in the garage before I started work. Before long, the garage was in a big mess and looked like the bedroom of an unrepentant hoarder. Before long, I had to bring along my own racks from Savvy Steve's old house. They were, of course, the pissed poor version of the nice boltless rack Pat gave me, costing about 1/10 of the price.
Those galvanised meanies were quite annoying to set up, due to the amount of bolts and nuts to put on. Their members also could give an unsuspecting handler a nasty cut. However, those racks performed and cost me $15 each. Those 4 racks helped me hold up quite well for the past 3 years. Along with Pat's new rack, it made parking a car in the garage possible again. An important detail during moving day.
By the time my helpers came, I ensured what I needed them to move were the usual 3 key items. The fridge, washer and our queen-size bed set. The rest of the stuff had been faithfully moved bit by bit everyday by maxing out Mighty Khellendros, which happened to be a Honda Jazz on the outside, a TARDIS on the inside.
The move made me worried for days. We had so much trouble moving our huge fridge up the second level when we first moved in that we even made a huge crack in the wall in order to get it through a turn in the narrow stairway. This time, I told my helpers, Knight of the Brook and Chieftain of the Grove to try another way. It worked like a charm. In less than 5 minutes, the fridge was on the ute.
"This would be a good day," I thought.
Never forget Murphy's Law though. The washer went up without a hitch as well. So did the huge bed base, which we lowered from the balcony at second level to the ute, which was parked at the first level. It was not as dangerous as it sound. That got down without much of a problem as well and it was actually mission accomplish within minutes. That was when it happened.
I must have stood on that edge of the tile countless times. It was only a tile, for fuck's sake, not any sharp edge that could give a deep cut. If I repeated what I did 10 times, I wouldn't have gotten a cut like I did on my big toe. It was just one of those freak accidents that you would never be able to replicate on a different day. An unusual slip that caused a deep cut by a relatively rounded tile edge. Instantly, I knew I was in trouble. The stinging feeling was familiar. I knew it wasn't a bad graze. My heart sank when I lifted my leg. By then, blood was another dripping on the floor like a loose tap.
Joni was still talking to the guys below while I limped to the bathroom. Before long, she saw the blood trail and followed it like a wolf. "What happened to you lah!" she exclaimed.
"Kena cut," I replied sullenly as I sat on the toilet bowl applying direct pressure on the cut with toilet paper. Nothing much was left in the house. I was lucky enough to have toilet paper.
By the time, the guys came up as well and 4 adults cramped around the tiny toilet.
"Wu hoonki bo?" Chieftain asked Knight and received one. He twisted it and scattered tobacco onto his palm and ordered me to removed my hand from my toe.
"Believe me, this works," Chieftain said as he grabbed my toe with his handful of tobacco and smeared it on the wound. "Hold this for a few minutes."
Damn, I only wanted to shift house quickly and I got more than what I bargained for. Admittedly, that was the first time I received this style of first aid. The bleeding was eventually stopped. I wasn't too sure if it was the tobacco treatment or my direct pressure on it. At least I could move on. I was crestfallen but didn't want to show it. I knew that wound was going to make my work in the next few days a painful experience. It would slow me down tremendously. Fortunately, Joni had some good plasters with her. Or I would be leaving some blood stains in the car, since we had to drive our respective cars ourselves. No one could give me a lift. The small cut was surprisingly painful when I drove back. How could I cope with the unfinished work the following days to come?
