After the drama with his wife he had an astounding day ahead of him; already his day at work would be a total wreck. Nothing else hung on his mind like a pendulum than thought of his shortcoming as a husband.
He felt worse than an infidel. The worst of it was the transport fare he was denied. You could deny him food, and he would perk up and be fine, but his transport fare shouldn’t be toiled with; It mattered a lot to him.
Earlier in their marriage, for months, he walked ten thousand kilometers to work and he almost lost his job as a janitor for resuming late at the Municipal Post Office.
Not until his wife came through for him with the ten dollars transport fare which he often promised to pay back; regrettably he never did. His salary had never been enough.
And about now he wondered how he would survive trekking to work. “Oh Lord, would I ever survive this? What sort of life is this?” he mumbled with his gaze raised at the woolly sky above.
He settled his gaze into the horizon and the long miles ahead of him sent cold shivers down his spine.
Minutes dragged by and he succeeded in walking past a store, only to halt and drift back when the sign post grasped his thought. He gazed upon the post which said, Gold Wise Link and his wife’s birthday gift struck in his head.
Through the transparent glass doors, he could see tons of gold and diamond jewelries neatly arranged in a meritorious manner that would make any passer-by stop to wonder at its splendor.
Any of those luxuries could be what his wife wanted.
“Gawd!” he exclaimed under his breath, lost into his gloom as he coveted all of it for his wife alone.
Gross!
Standing at the entrance were the securities that manned the store. He sucked a deep breath as he advanced forward, inwardly fighting off the scare that clutched his trembling knees.
Their thunderous gaze fed into his eyes and asked him a million questions even before he pranced to their side. Although he had cooked up white lies to tell them just so that he could be let into the store, yet his soul could attest to his unwillingness to be in such breath-taking store which was meant for money bags and big wigs alone.
“How may we help you?” both of them queried almost at once and their wobbly, quarrelsome eyeballs which measured him from his unkempt hair to his I-swear-to-God shoes briefed him of his fate in few seconds.
“I… I” stuttering layered his lips and without any intention to give up on entering the store, he forced out words, “I am Jamole. My boss sent me to run a market survey on a gold jewelry.” The next lie he told heaved on his lips and he wondered what audacity that possessed him. “I am the errand boy to Swan Pablo.”
“Swan Pablo?” the securities almost exclaimed at once. Promptly their gaze scanned him from head to toes just to remind him of what he looked like; how scary he was.
Now Swan Pablo was the richest tycoon in Antipolo. He owned thousands of estates all over Anitpolo and countries beyond. He was the CEO of Swan Real Estates Group. Swan was the maxim of unimaginable wealth. The tycoon was a cliché in Antipolo to the extent that when one told you, “You are swan,” the person only meant you were unimaginably rich.
So lying in the name of Swan Pablo was the only treachery he could pull off to get into the store.
“But you don’t look it,” one of the securities gestured at his entire body and Jamole gazed down to his horrible shoes with so much frustrations plunging him to shake his head, “Errand boy to Swan Pablo wouldn’t look this horrible and scary,” the security intoned, asked him a million questions with his thunderous gaze and snapped an eye at the other.
The other security shook his head firmly. “But you must endeavour to look as flamboyant as your boss when next you are coming to Gold Wise Link.” He pointed at him from head to toes, “This is an embodiment of poverty and we don’t allow people of your class here.”
He grinned, wept inwardly for his fate, swallowed the insult just so he could get into the store and know the worth of the ring his wife wanted.
“But I would give you grace of today. Next time you come around looking shabby and stinking, I would release the dogs on you.”
He heaved a breath of relief once they gave way and he pranced into the store.
His eyes caught sight of a gorgeously, corporately dressed, young lady who was seated behind the counter and he perceived she was the sales person. Contagious smile decked his face, hoping she was going to return the compliment.
But she never did. “Excuse me? Who let you into this store? Why are you here? Who the hell are you?” she questioned him into depression. The sullen looks on her face made him regret ever drifting down to this store. “With the way you look you don’t deserve to be here.” She bit out.
He sucked a deep breath, and briefly shut his eyes in frustration. “Apologies ma’am but it is not all about me. I am Jamole the poor errand boy to Swan Pablo.” His lies still hung on his lips. “He only sent me to run a market survey on a gold ring,” he said at a breath.
“Swan Pablo? That is the richest man in Antipolo and his errand boy wouldn’t look this horrible. Just take a look at your shoes.” Her sour eyes labeled irritation all over Jamole and he winked nervously, “Well if you say so but you should advise your boss to buy you good shoes and cloths when next you are visiting Gold Wise Link Stores.” She wrinkled her nose at him and he was reminded of his body odor.
Without much hesitation she took him round the exquisite store. “Which of the jewelries do you want to know about? They are very expensive but for a tycoon like swan I believe he can afford any of them.”
“It is a gold ring called Arabic Coral Gold Ring,” he intoned in anticipation.
The sales person gave a firm nod. “Oh Arabic Coral, we have it.” She pointed at the tons of splendid gold rings displayed in the glass shelf, “They are of various qualities with different prices. We have the one that sells for half a million dollars.”
He shook his head in disapproval.
“We have the one that sells for thirty thousand dollars,” she intoned again and he shook his head in disapproval.
“We have the one for twenty thousand dollars, ten thousand dollars, five and the most affordable is selling for one thousand dollars…”
She had barely finished her words when he interrupted her, “Oh you have the one for one thousand dollars?” he asked and she gave a firm nod.
She protested, “But for a mogul like Swan Pablo I think he should go for the one of half a million dollars…”
Jamole bowed gently and appreciated, “Thank you very much ma’am, I have gotten my market survey. I think I should be on my way now.” He obliged and hit the road to his work place.
When he arrived at the municipal post office complex he was already gasping for breath and sweating like a pig.
About drifting to the dress room to change into his uniform and resume cleaning, his boss’s beaming voice caught him. “Jamole! You are late again.”
Dean Bur was his boss, a tall, strong featured man who humiliated him at any slightest chance.
“What do you have to say about this Jamole?” he pointed around the dirty complex, “The whole place is messed up over the weekend. I expected you to resume on time and clean up before customers would start coming.” He was almost raising his voice. “I need explanations, Jamole.”
Jamole raised his gaze and raised a pitiable, sullen brow. “Apologies, boss. I shouldn’t have come late. It …it,” he stuttered, “It is just that I have unsolved problems with my wife, who deprived me my transport fare that is the reason I am late.”
Dean bur winked to a sort, and yelled at him, “I don’t know why you poor people always have excuse. I believe that is the reason you are poor. I think you don’t deserve this job. It is high time you quit, hit the road and start begging,” he pointed at him from head to toes. “Just take a look at yourself. You have always lagged behind in your work that is why you look horrible and can never be rich!” he yelled radically at him.
Jamole shivered and flinched at his words. He held a grinned face and sniffed back tears. Would a day ever come when Dean Bur would regret all he had ever told him?
“Take your filthy self out of my sight!” he snapped at him, expecting him to walk away but he stood his ground and went on his knees instead.
“Apologies boss please I need a favor of you.” He molded his arms and demanded intensely with his sorry face.
He shot his quarrelsome gaze at him. “And what could that be? I hope it is not money because I don’t have any penny to give your broke ass.”
He tossed his head in disapproval. “No boss. I need an extra duty so that I can earn more money and have enough savings. I have an urgent need.”
Dean’s brow thickened as the ridges in sand, “But why do you need an extra duty? You have never made such demands since you became a janitor.”
He swallowed hard, sniffed hugely and lowered his gaze in shame, “My…my wife needs Arabic Coral Gold Ring for a birthday gift and she is ready to pour hell’s soup on me if I don’t get her one. I adore my wife so much. I don’t want to get her walked up for any reason. She is very dear to me.”
Dean Bur interrupted him with an outburst of laugh. “You are insane. Arabic Coral Gold Ring is too expensive for you. I don’t think you can afford it now or in the life after.”
He protested, “Please boss. I need extra duty so that I can have enough savings and buy her the one that is selling for one thousand dollars. Yes I just did a market survey. There is one that sells for one thousand dollars.”
Done mocking him and choking on his laugh, Dean said, “Well if you insist, the municipal town hall urgently needs a cleaner and maintenance personnel. You can start with immediate effect, and you must be diligent and take it seriously!”
“Thank you boss. Thank you so much, boss.” He appreciated and fell on the ground in gratitude while Dean walked away.
Jamole fondled his pocket, brought out his sizeable wallet and took out photo of his wife and smiled at it cheerfully, “I promise to work hard and get you the gold ring sweetie. I promise,” he placed the photo on his chest, as he got down to work.
All his life as a janitor at the municipal post office in Antipolo, he never had savings due to the peanut he earned as salary. This had made him to shrink from his responsibility as a husband and lose sheer honor from his wife and among his peers.He never intended to eschew responsibility and in his gloom, he looked forth to the day he would earn enough money and surprise his wife with all she had ever wanted.Right about now all that his wife, Stella, nagged about at home and whenever she saw him was her Arabic Coral Gold Ring, even this had deprived them the consummation of their marriage.Recently Stella moved into the other bedroom, locked their bedroom and restricted Jamole to spend the night in the sitting room, with a stern warning never to sleep in the sofa but on the cold floor.“But I thought I promised to buy you the gold ring. Why are you doing this to me, Stella, why?” he protested when she wouldn’t offer him breakfast.This was the height of it!Already Stella was pain
Through jittering lips and shaky body, Jamole wailed, “Would there be a time when Stella and her boss would regret what they just did to me?”His teary eyes supposed to be swollen by now because he had already wept out his eyeballs. He was full of tears; and that was an understatement. The shells of frustration had been shot at him and indecision over shadowed him.He stood in the middle of the road, collapsed under the pounds of his ill fate and came upon his wobbly knees. At the time his sweaty palms had dented the divorce papers with dirt. He needed to affix his signature on it to legally seal up the divorce between him and Stella.From deep down his lovelorn, catastrophic soul, he intoned, “Soon you will regret it Stella,”Fondling into his pocket, he stuck out a pen and scribbled on the divorce paper whatever his hands could afford. Each tear that trickled down his cheeks stole away his existence.“Where do I go from here now?” he mumbled within himself, still on his knees and no
The disable damsel was unruffled by what she perceived to be a stunt. But it wasn’t a stunt. Reality was playing. Jamole remained on his knees, though a bit fidgety, yet he knew what he was doing. At the time he had created a scene; onlookers were staring keenly at them with bated breath.He took her fingers into his and repeated, “Can you be my wife? I mean every word of it.”The disable lady shot a nervous gaze at him. She gazed down to her rickety legs and expected him to have taken notice of her physical condition before proposing marriage to her.He swallowed hard and caught the blaring message in her cloudy eyes. “I know you are physically challenged. It is all glaring before me. You may be physically challenged and it is enough to repel me from proposing marriage to you. But it is you that I want.”The aghast disable lady who had gagged her moth with her trembling hands all the while was forced to protest, “Are you sure about this? I hope you know I am not as cute as every oth
He had known Dean Bur to be a radical, mean boss but tonight really revealed the other side of him. He clicked his fingers impatiently at him “What the hell gave you the guts to think you can live here, Jamole?”Once he noticed a vein pop from his forehead, he knew he had lost it. Promptly he went down on his knees and molded his arms to plead.But the burly man before him tossed his head in refusal and his reddened eyes whipped Jamole severally.“You just told me your wife divorced you. How the hell is that my business? I am just stating the obvious, Jamole you can’t live here. Go and rent yourself a house.”“No, boss please,” he interrupted him furiously.He widened his gaze at Jamole as though to ask him what nerve he had to interrupt him. He had never interrupted Dean Bur for once; he was a boss he revered and feared due to his strong features and personality. But he didn’t know when he did.“Boss don’t push me away, please. I have nowhere to lay my head after work; right now I am
Few months ago when Jamole paced down to the bus terminal where he boarded bus to his work place, he often prayed inwardly for the homeless beggars that hounded the cold streets of Antipolo. But tonight he was literally one of them.Struggling under the weight of his bag, Jamole kept staring at the post office while he trudged away, hoping Dean Bur would change his mind and let him pass the night .“What sort of life is this? I caught my wife and her boss flirting, she divorced me and now I am homeless. What am I living for?” a thought echoed in his head.He sighed, tossed his head and snapped out of the thought. Few hours ago he had proposed marriage to Susan, the disable beggar on the street. And with that done, he had his plans running; he would work harder to pay her dowry and with the remaining proceeds, he would rent a house and carter for her.The disable beggar was as classless as he was. She didn’t look expensive and wouldn’t cost him much to take care of, unlike Stella, his
When jamole’s eyes opened at dawn and glared around he suddenly realized he had passed the night at the very spot where Susan begged, with her sizeable bag clutched to his chest.Hopefully he had waited into the night for Susan to return to the spot where she begged for money but to no avail. He had proposed marriage to her the other day and it was pertinent to brief her about his plans for her.Jamole’s gaze investigated his fingers and the empty scar of ring which wound round his fingers hit his imagination. He sighed in exhaustion and hummed.Marriage!Was that what he needed now? A few years ago before he married Stella he had taken into consideration the distraction that was accrued to marriage. And in his immaculate heart he had decided to remain a bachelor until he became a famous zillionaire in Antipolo.He had plans of finishing college, going under the apprenticeship of a capitalist like Swan Pablo and working his way to unimaginable wealth and power.But all of that came cr
“Jamole.” Susan called in like manner, letting a contagious smile deck her face.Jamole was still star-struck; his weight heaved on his knees and he suddenly realized his legs couldn’t carry his body anymore.“Who is she? Who is Susan for Christ sake?” who did I propose marriage to?”Millions of such questions hovered in his thought as he stared engagingly at Susan who was being ridden in her wheel chair by her security.“Susan!” Jamole called once more through teary tone, “Is this really you? What is happening?”He needed to ask such questions because Susan wasn’t just looking dashing but glamorous and charming than any country side celebrity. Unlike the other day when he met her begging in her wheel chair, looking all dirty, smelling and unkempt.She had her French hair made into a ponytail. Her dress was mini gown from the royalty fashion style. The diamond bracelet and necklace that wound round her neck and wrist were worth one million dollars.“Who the hell is Susan?” a thoughtfu
Jamole kept pinching himself just to be sure he wasn’t dreaming. Swan Pablo kept ringing in his head and he began to recall all about Swan Pablo.Swan Pablo was the richest tycoon in Antipolo who had avarice of group of companies in real estate. He was the CEO of the prestigious Swan Real Estates and a few months ago he was worth two billion dollars. Swan Pablo was a fat cat everyone wanted to reckon with.Anitpolo never knew much about Swan’s private life and family even everyone thought he never had family. And never in Jamole’s life had he thought the disable girl he proposed marriage to was Swan’s daughter and only child.“I am Susan Pablo, my dear,” Susan intoned, all smiles, as she sat next to Jamole in the Lamborghini.“Oh my God! So this is true. What is about happening to me? What fate is about to befall me? Susan Pablo? Swan Pablo’s daughter?” Jamole sounded in his mind.Seeing the cloud of surprise on his face, Susan explained yet further, “As a matter of fact I am the only