been through. Furthermore, I was still on the watch. Thus, if I didn’t take care, I was quiet sure in weeks I would find myself back in prison.
So, I settled with first idea of being a prodigal son for once. Nonetheless, east or west home is the best. To be honest, I don’t believe that crap anymore.
On May twenty first in the year 2008, I decided to take a trip home. I was quiet sure my dad was then a lot older after three years of depression, trying to let go of me. Then, it sounded better than living homeless under a bridge, when I knew I could fix something so easily.
That morning, I took a train downtown to Jason place, one of my oldest boys in town. Jason had a normal life. Since after my arrest, he had given up the business and decided to earn a genuine living. I knocked at his door hoping he hadn’t moved.
So we had a conversation that morning after letting me in to his cabin.
“Hey men what’s up?”
“Am cool men, look at you bro,” i had answered.
(Smiling)
“Oh! Sorry men.” “I know it’s a long story, feel at home spencer.”
I had never felt so good since I left prison. All I knew was a lot of my old friends used to turn a blind eye on me every time I asked for help.
Looking around Jason’s cabin, it was one of the pretty ones I was used to, before I headed to prison. It had two old sofas, a small wooden table and two stools on the sides. Apart from the old charts and maps on the wall, the room still looked good and it would hold for a few more years. At that moment, I turned to face Jason as I sat on the sofa that overlooked the kitchen. Also, pretty in good shape.
“Thanks men, am really happy you still remember me.”
“Of course I do.”
“If it were not for you, I could still be sleeping under that damn bridge or even worse.”
Tell you what. That’s how things happen at times. A few years I had this guy work for me for two grand a day. He had managed to carry on and purchase a cabin for himself. Now, things were different. I was the guy looking for a job and sleeping under the bridge. I just hoped he would return the favor.
“Now am the guy you were then.” We laughed.
“Jason I need your help today, I mean now.”
“Yeah men, anything I can afford, ask.” He had answered.
“I need a few bucks, and proper clothes.”
“How much do you need?” He said rubbing the back of his head with his right hand.
That would be tough. I knew, he wasn’t worth much. So if he was to help, I had to ask for a reasonable amount.
“Just fifty grand bro, please.”
I barely say please. If I do, am seriously in trouble and I need immediate help.
As matter of fact, he didn’t argue much because I promised him a refund as soon as I could.
Within no time, I left his cabin and headed to rosewood unsure of what awaited me. The last time I had talked to Lucy, I remember her, whisper that dad had suffered depression, but I hoped he was well or better because that had been three years before. The taxi drove through rosewood on to Luke’s drive, my destiny.
The place looked to have changed a lot in terms of environmental conservation. Also, from the look at the surrounding homes, I could tell a few had managed to be tycoons. Why was it that, this whole time I never felt guilty? The feeling was like I was returning from school in the old days. It never felt much different whosoever.
I arrived at my dad’s place before noon. I hoped he could listen to me, and if possible keep me for some time before I found a place for myself. I knocked gently on the door. The first time I didn’t get a response, so I had knocked again. When the door opened I wasn’t surprised to have a short gun pointed on my face ready to shoot.
The door swung open and as he came out, I took a step back, my hands behind my head. He looked older than the last time I had seen him. His hair had turned white and he wore glasses that rested on his flat nose little low for his eyes. So all that time staring at me, he looked above them.
“Who the hell are you?” He first questioned
Suppose he had forgotten due to old age, I would remind him.
“Am Adam smith your son dad.” I had answered.
“I never had a son, how about you get the hell of my property or I shoot.” He had threated.
From a far I could see a few people probably neighbors gathering to watch.
Dad just stared and to my surprise, he kept pointing the gun at me and moving closer as I took steps back off the porch. After a while, I could hear his voice sound more fierce. In prison, I had learnt this. So he was about to do something terrible that was of course shoot my face if I didn’t move.
“Okay, okay, don’t shoot am off.” I had pleaded I as I walked off his drive way.
The crowd was getting bigger and within no time I knew someone was about to call the cops. As I walked away, I remember turning back to take a look at him. Surprisingly, he just walked back towards his house, the shot gun placed on his shoulder.
That betrayal incident, I think triggered something deep inside me. I felt so sorry for myself. That night under the bridge I called it over. Whatever the cost, I had nothing holding me back from doing what I was about to do. Simply because I was nobodies’ son. From then it would be me against the world.
Chapter six
A week later, I was back on the streets looking for a job. In fact any job I could lay my hands on. First, I got a delivery job at a company that run an online store. At times it sucked but I had no choice other than to hold on, till I could at least manage to get a place for myself.
I worked pretty well in the first month. On the first day of following month, my salary was delayed due to some so called loss reduction law. I never got to understand that clearly. But, from how Owen my core worker had explained it, it involved deduction of some loss I had cost the company for example breaking a few items during delivery.
A few days later on pay day, things got worse than I had imagined. I got paid a half the salary I deserved. This meant that I couldn’t even afford to rent the cheapest apartment in town. That day I felt so angry. If they did know or had asked for some kind of experience when they had hired me, they wouldn’t have made such mistake.
For the record, I have one hell of a memory, for every big thing I have done over the years. On November second the year 2008, I took a walk downtown, on my right hand carrying a twenty litter gallon of petroleum. It was past midnight, the city patrols had cooled down. In other words, nobody could notice me easily or rather suspect anything.
Mostly at this time of the night, if you are on the street, you are either a prostitute, a thug, a policemen on patrol or some criminal trying to snick drugs here and there. So, no one gives a fuck about anybody else’s business except the police who at the moment relax on some street corners. Probably, treating themselves too.
I increased my paces down the road and turned a corner where I could see the warehouse a few meters a head. The company had its offices deep in the city and had this warehouse in the suburb. Especially, for convenience when delivering goods outside the city. However, this area was a little remote. Only a few estates and some sort of cottage industries which obviously close early. So the only thing I had to deal with was the guard.
Slowly, I approached the warehouse. It was gated and well light. Thus, if I had to get in, I had to find a way of convincing the guard. And if he didn’t surrender, once I was inside I would kill him. There was no way I could work so hard and still sleep under the bridge?
I slowly approached the gate. The smaller one was easier to break through, but first I had to be sure the guards weren’t too close. Slowly I stretched my head to have a glimpse through the narrow steel bars. Suddenly, I
heard snores come from the inside just beside the wall. So, the guy had slept as usual probably not expecting anything. If he had no idea, this would be the worst night of his life. If not, he would be dead long before he got to tell anyone about it.
Slowly, I had climbed over, holding the gallon on my right hard and made it down on the other side. As soon as I took a step towards the guard who lay beside the pavement that lead to the warehouse, I felt a strong grip on my neck from behind. I remember struggling for my life. Whoever he was, I can say he tried. But I was a prison veteran. Taking me down like that, would never be easy.
A few struggles and I managed to catch the arms still chocking my neck from behind. I recall knocking his face hard using the back of my head. Within no time, he had lost control probably due to the pain he felt. Suppose I broke his nose. I then picked up a stone beside the pavement and hit him hard on the face as he wrestled back. He fell down without a word and there he lay breathing heavily. I couldn’t tell whether he was dead, but helplessness suggested he wouldn’t be long.
To my surprise, all that time the other guy was still asleep. I had a thought of killing him, but I got convinced to tie him up in case, I needed time to escape during the investigation. One thing I have learnt all these years is that, you can’t run forever. Sooner or later someone will catch up with you. So, all you need to do is buy yourself some time. So I carried out the duty and made sure