The Missing _|

Not all bad experiences produce complaints; some prompt a thank you

Thank you for calling ZippyMart. How may I help you?”

“Hello? I just ordered some snacks from you and the delivery was just done but..mmm…”

“May I know what’s the problem, ma’am?”

“I’m new to this. I don’t know how calling you works.”

“That’s alright. I’m here to help you, ma’am. Usually, our customers call when they cannot have their issue resolved through our in-app support. This is for their benefit—so that they don’t have to wait to speak to a customer care champion. But at this hour, there’s no such problem. So tell me, how can I help you, ma’am?”

“I want to thank the boy who just came to my door with the order.”

“Our delivery partner?”

“Yes.”

“That’s nice of you, ma’am.”

“Could you give me his number? And maybe tell him that I would be calling?”

“Unfortunately, ma’am, we are not at liberty to share information about any of our delivery partners. But we want you to know that ZippyMart is delighted you had such a good experience with your order.”

“I didn’t have a good experience.”

“Oh!” [checks log] “I see here that your order was delayed beyond our usual express delivery promise but…but as you can see, ma’am, in your pincode there’s been an amber alert because of heavy rains. I also see that one of the items you ordered—the Supreme Harvest sabudana—is one of our Hot Deal items during the navratri season and for our Hot Deal items, express delivery is waived so—”

“I’m not following you, sorry.”

“Ma’am, could you specify the reason for your dissatisfaction? Our customers are our topmost priority and we promise we’ll do our best to do right by you.”

“I’m not calling about the delayed delivery. I just want to thank the boy…the delivery boy.”

“Ma’am, if your delivery was delayed and you did not have a good experience, for what reason do you want to thank him?”

“It sounds weird when you put it like that…I feel bad about how I treated him.”

“Oh! May I ask what you did, ma’am?”

“Nothing…I did nothing and that’s why I feel terrible.”

“Alright, ma’am. We’ll let our delivery partner know you felt bad.”

“How will that help? It’s so impersonal.”

“No? We’ll tell him you personally called and expressed regret about your conduct.”

“Tch tch…the thing is, he was what these days they call differently abled…and I didn’t tip him.”

“You can still do that if you wish to, ma’am.”

“How?”

“ZippyMart allows you to tip the delivery partner even after the order has been delivered. All you have to do is go to your order history, rate the delivery, and add the—”

“Stop, stop! You’ve lost me again. I’m not used to this app-shapp. It’s my son who orders for me. And I don’t want to learn the entire Ramayana now. I just want to thank this boy with something. Is there any other way?”

“That’s really kind of you, ma’am. I can share your message with his supervisor so he knows how valued he is, plus his supervisor also knows, which makes it twice as good for him.”

“That may be so…and good on you for trying but I want to give him something as a way of saying thanks. That’s the only way I’ll feel better. When he was at my door, I asked him why he was so late and he said that he had to make another delivery in the neighborhood and that took time, and that upset me…because everyone says you can get stuff in ten minutes and here I had already been waiting for forty minutes to soak the sabudana and go to bed. So, in that state, I didn’t even notice—God have mercy—that his one shirt sleeve had nothing…it was fluttering in the breeze. It was only after I shut the door on him that I realized my blunder.”

“Ma’am, do you mean he was missing one arm?”

“That’s right. He had one arm.”

“Only one?”

“Yes.”

“Ma’am, but we don’t have anyone with one arm. I don’t even need to check the system for this. We just don’t have any one-armed delivery partners.”

“That’s funny because I literally just saw a one-arm boy deliver my order.”

“Ma’am, our delivery partners use our e-bikes. How do you think it is possible for them to deliver orders in under ten minutes with just one arm?”

“That’s why you don’t keep your ten-minute promise.”

“I mean, it’s just not possible to ride a bike in traffic with one hand.”

“Maybe you—what do they call it—outsource to some other company and they employ whoever they want to.”

“No, ma’am. We do not outsource deliveries. Our delivery partners are all vetted by us.”

“Then what just happened? Who came to my door?”

“Ma’am, the system shows the name of your delivery partner as Ishmail Mohammad. Could you please confirm it was him?”

“How would I know his name? It was not like he was wearing a badge.”

“Could you check the app?”

“I don’t know…I’m new to your app. As I said, it’s my son who orders things. He’s the one who had put your app on my phone but he’s away now. In fact, it took me so long to get this number to call you. This is way past my bedtime.”

“I’m sorry about that, ma’am. I can confirm from my end that the person who delivered your order was Ishmail Mohammad. Our records show that Ishmail Mohammad is able-bodied.”

“That’s so strange.”

“His file here says he had a health emergency…an accident while on duty a month ago.”

“An accident?”

“It says here he fell off his bike and…hang on…sorry, I mean, ma’am, will you please allow me a second? I’ll put you on hold…just one minute.”

[a catchy jingle—the ZippyMart song—plays on loop as the call is put on hold]

“Sir, I mean, ma’am, you’re right!”

“Good God! I was beginning to doubt my eyes.”

“No, you saw right, ma’am. You saw only one arm—but he has two.”

“What?”

“Ma’am, he has both his arms, but one is in a sling so he keeps it inside his shirt.”

“Why does he have to hide it?”

“No, ma’am, not like that. Not hide. He doesn’t want the sling to get wet in the rain.”

“But how does he do deliveries? You said, na, how is it possible to ride a bike with one arm?”

“Ma’am, we’ve been speaking for a while and I hope I can trust you.”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“I mean I’ve broken protocol and given you personal details about our delivery partner so I hope…I mean…ma’am, can I trust you?”

“Why are you asking me this?”

“It is important, ma’am…otherwise I’m sorry I can’t give you any more information.”

“You know what? Just tell me. Yes, son, yes…this is just between you and me.”

“Ma’am, I just spoke with Ishmail…now when I put you on hold. I called him. Turns out that he had taken some time off to recover from his accident but it wasn’t enough. The doctor has asked him to immobilize his arm for some more time. But he had to use it, he had to return to work. So, he rides his e-bike with both arms and the rest of the time he puts the hurt one back in the sling. And that’s what he did coming up to your place. Normally, you would’ve seen his sling but because of the rains tonight he pulled his sleeve over it. You couldn’t see it and you thought—”

“So he has both arms—thank goodness!”

“Yes.”

“But he continues to work with one injured arm?”

“You’re right, ma’am. But he’s not armless.”

“He has both arms.”

“Yes, absolutely, ma’am. No doubt about that. I just spoke to him.”

“I don’t know what to say.”

“Ma’am, you gave me your word that you would say nothing.”

“No, I mean I don’t know how to feel…about this whole situation.”

“Ma’am, from my side, I can assure you Ishmail is okay.”

“Okay.”

“Now that you know that Ishmail is alright, may I request you to leave me a five-star rating at the end of this call, ma’am?”

---

Thank you, Clarinda Cerejo, for comments on this piece of flash fiction.