The Secret

The Secret

He came up to me, startling me at his silent approach, and whispered in my ear.  His voice was raspy and hoarse and caused an unexpected shudder to run through my body, as if an evil spirit had just then walked on my grave.  I thought the gesture was a bit odd.  This whisper in the ear was taking place at my retirement party and most of the conversations taking place in the conference room were loud and totally understandable by all the folks there.

But this wasn’t a conversation.  It was a command.

Let me step back for a minute.

I just retired a couple weeks ago.  My last workday was a Thursday and my retirement party was the next day, a Friday.  I’d been a loyal employee for the government office where I worked for a little more than 13 years.  Before working for this place I had been a refugee of sorts, a victim of a massive downsizing from my previous job.  I’d held various computer-related positions in a huge telecommunications company for almost 20 years.  I’d figured I’d finish my career there and retire with, dare I say honor after a respectable time employed there.  Then I had become downsized – cast adrift in my mid-50’s from the soulless behemoth that had employed me and left to fend all alone.  I knew it would be gruelingly tough getting another job at that age and it was.  Or at least I thought trying to get re-employed for the three months I was between jobs was a long time, but apparently three months was rather quick in that job market and at that age.  Anyhow, I was taken aboard at this county government office, given a job and made to feel welcome.

For that kindness I was very much grateful.

That was over 13 years ago and those intervening years had flashed by like the time between two of your breaths – inhale, work almost a decade-and-a-half, exhale.  Done.  Almost that fast.  That time period, although in retrospect it passed by extremely fast, also contained 20 percent of my life with all that entails.  New friends, different jobs and tasks, people leaving my life by choice – retirement, better opportunities, promotions, and by fate - discharges, illness and death.

I could tell you stories…  Oh the stories I could relate…  Ah, maybe later…

My retirement party had been going on for a while, everyone having cake and cookies and punch, kibitzing with each other, shaking my hand or patting me on the back, wishing my wife and I well and saying good things about me whether they were true or not.

I like to think most of them were true.

I was enjoying myself.  It wasn’t often that I was the center of attention and this time it was in a good way!  It was a bittersweet party though, knowing it was the last time I’d be seeing a lot of those people every day.  Yes, we’d see each other from time to time, at parties, lunches, doing some hobbies together perhaps.  But it would be the last time as members in a fraternity of fellow co-workers and friends.

But I was a bit mistaken on the fraternity aspect.

There were also at the party about a half-dozen previously retired employees wandering around the conference room where the festivities were taking place.  They were apparently invited there to welcome a new member into their hallowed fraternity, namely me.  Most of them were quite familiar faces – men and women whom I’d toiled with over the years and who had “pulled the plug” when they deemed it time to retire.  They mingled with the other folks – the currently employed folks that is – the group I’d just emigrated from.  I glanced at the retired ones and received an occasional measuring glance back as if they were sizing me up for a new suit of clothes.

Or a burial plot.

Not long after the congratulatory speeches were completed and a little before the party participants began to wander off, either back to their jobs or home, one of the retirees sidled up to me and whispered in my ear, “Meet me out in the hallway in five minutes.”

I nodded, as the invitation seemed innocent enough.  Or, I thought, as if I had been waiting for just this person to whisper just those words to me all along.  As if it were as inevitable as the graying of the hair and the decaying of the body.  Perhaps it would have been better, much better, if I’d grabbed my wife then and we’d sprinted back to our car and raced home, never looking back.  But I was quite innocent at that time and meekly acquiesced to the upcoming meeting.  Or was I unable to refuse?  I later fond out that if this meeting had not occurred then it surely would have occurred not much later.

There were things that I needed to be told.

I slipped into the hallway at the appointed time and saw my old retired acquaintance standing there.  He motioned me to follow him and I did so.  We slipped into an office not very far away.  The room was almost dark as it was past quitting time and the regular employees had already left for the day.

My guide did not turn on the lights.

His shadowy face turned to me and said in that raspy voice, “There are things you have to know as a retiree.  Things that cannot be shared with anyone still working.  Not even with your wife.  Not a whisper!”  He glanced around making sure we were alone, making sure his words would not be overheard.  I involuntarily held my breath. 

“Everyone who retires…” he said after pausing for a second.  “Everyone who retires is told a secret.  It’s something that cannot be shared with the working folk.”

“It. Can. Not.  Be.  Shared.  Do I make myself clear?”

I nodded, a tightness expanding in my chest and a headache beginning right at the base of my skull.  “I understand.”  A shiver crept down my spine with the sick anticipation of the man’s next words.

“OK,” he said, “here’s what you need to know.”

And he told me the secret.

I soon returned to the gaily-decorated conference room, heard the laughter of my friends and saw the knowing looks of the retired ones.  The ones who now were my forever allies.  The ones who were forever entwined in my life, closer than a husband and wife, closer than blood, closer than the bond between brothers of the Skull and Bones Society.

I chatted with the people some more, swapping stories and smiling at their responses, but the day was drawing to a close, the light was about gone from the sky and everyone knew it was time to call it a day.

My special day was done.

Not too long afterward the party broke up.  The employed scurrying off to begin their weekend, knowing they’d be back there in a couple days to resume their hurrying and scurrying, the retired ones heading out to their homes to return to their private lives.

Whatever that meant now.

My wife and I said our last farewells, gathered up the remains of the retirement cake and headed out to the car.  My wife said, “What was that all about – when you slipped out of the conference room for a bit?”

I replied, “Nothing.  Just needed a little ‘me’ time away from the party.  Got a little emotional.”  I gave her a small almost sad smile

She brightly returned the smile and patted me on the back.  “It’s OK, big guy.  It isn’t that often that you retire.”

I nodded sagely back at her.  “You got that right, sistah.  It’s definitely a once-in-a-lifetime moment.”

As we drove home in the gathering darkness of the late autumn day I wondered who would be giving her the secret when she retired in four months.  Who would impart those momentous words to her and change her life forever.

I’m still wondering.