Mr. President had his back at the wall, his gaze on my photo which had been on his desk all the while. It was time for him to borrow the fifty trillion dollars from me but the sudden decline of my wealth was about making him to compromise.
The door opened and he raised his gaze to see it was the minister.
“Morning His Excellency,” the minister greeted once he pranced into the tranquil office. Just like everyone, he was having a newspaper. All over the world everyone followed the news of my downfall and while some celebrated others felt bitter.
The minister was among those who celebrated; he was having a throaty smile as he advanced to the side of the president who had been brooding over my fate.
“Few days ago when I told you Mike Don was going to lose his fortune you doubted me and almost cursed me but what is happening today, Mr. President?” he placed the newspaper on his desk and their gaze settled on the page which had my image with the simple headline: BACK TO POVERTY.
Mr. President wasn’t excited over the news. The moment he got news of my downfall, he put a call to me but my phone line wasn’t reachable. He was yet to believe the news making the round.
Looking at him it was obvious he had bubbles in his veins over my downfall, “I still can’t believe Mike Don is back to poverty. How possible is that? He has got unlimited wealth and his empire is the richest oil and gas firm all over the world. It can’t be true. We will need to be careful of the news making the round …” he had his lips curved in fury. He had been drinking uneasily.
The minister shrugged in doubt, every muscle tense. His hatred for me boiled greatly, “Oh Mr. President, the media doesn’t lie. The news is everywhere now. Mike Don is back to the dregs. Can’t you see that we are the reason he is back to poverty? Ever since we withdrew the oil well from him, he hasn’t been doing business and his revenue has halted as the breath of the dead.” The strange smile on his face was contagious.
Mr. President winked out of thought of smiling back at him; he wasn’t excited over my downfall and he wished the minister would feel the same way.
“I have been trying to reach the world richest man but all effort to reach him seemed abortive,” said Mr. President, his face crimson, with frustration dragging down his chin, “I wish I could reach him at such a time as this. My heart goes to him.” His face grimaced.
The minister smirked and chortled mockingly, “My heart can’t go to a waster like Mike Don. He is not fit to be heir. He was busy acquiring wealth and wasting them on luxuries forgetting to invest for rainy days.” He hummed and swore inwardly, “I don’t think he will ever get back on track again. He can never be rich….” A sudden laugh took over him.
Mr. President closed his eyes and wished he could fight back the urge to nag about my downfall, “I wonder how we would source for fund now? You know how much we need the fifty trillion dollars. We need this loan and Mike Don has promised to give us the loan but right now he is broke, I wonder what would become of our economy now.”
The minister slapped the newspaper on the desk and opened to page, “His name is Thomas Jackson,” the minister pointed his attention to the image on the newspaper, “He is a bad ass investor and obviously the new world richest man recognized by Forbes. He is currently worth four hundred trillion dollars.”
The knocking of shoes sounded. Mr. President was walking closer to have a perfect look at Thomas Jackson. “Who is he?” he queried and settled his gaze in the image, “I haven’t heard anything about him.”
“Mike Don needed to give way for him to be heard…um…” he contemplated, tossing his head thoughtfully, “He is not a waster like Mike Don or did he inherit wealth. This kid is so rich and would give Mike Don a run for his money. We are all blindfolded by Mike Don. Who the hell does he think he is? Thomas Jackson is far way richer and he has come to stay.”
Mr. President sucked a deep breath, “Hmmm Thomas Jackson, I would love to meet with him and know his empire so that we can initiate a relationship that could be beneficial to our economy. It is disheartening that our very own trillionaire, Mike Don is out of the business and back to poverty…”
He shot a crushing frown at Mr. President and almost rolled his eyes at him. “There is nothing disheartening about his downfall. Not only is he spendthrift but he is not meant to be rich. I hear he was once a poor delivery boy who only discovered his true identity so we shouldn’t expect anything less.” He cursed me in his thought and added, “I believe he is wallowing in abject poverty somewhere in the suburb. That is the reason his phone line is not reachable.”
Mr. President’s skin blossomed with disappointment, most especially about the crashing economy of Rio Hondo. He didn’t know much about Thomas Jackson and would need much time to establish a relationship with him.
“I wish Mike Don’s phone line would be reachable so that I would know his condition. It is really sad to witness a downfall after…”
The minister interrupted him through clenched teeth, “There is nothing to be sad about. Mike Don deserves any form of poverty. What is more important now is how we can access loan from Thomas Jackson, who is currently the world richest man.”
“A loan from Thomas Jackson?” The president retorted and raised a furrowed brow. “Will he be willing to loan us fifty trillion dollars? And by the way, what is his source of income? We need to know all of this before we dive into any deal with him.”
The minister’s lips curved in doubt. He would want to engage the president in argument. He had already written me off and couldn’t wait to laugh me to scorn the day he would set his eyes on me.
He hummed after he breathed uneasily. “His Excellency, Thomas Jackson is as real as success. He is a radical investor and not some poor delivery boy who inherited cheap wealth. I suggest we go for Thomas Jackson as soon as possible. Meanwhile let’s digress to business. His Excellency, the ministry has decided to auction the Suburban Real Estate. Revenue from it will add up to the loan. What you think?”
The president shook his head firmly. “Bring it on.”
“Oh Mike Don! Where are you?” he sounded in his head and shook his head in pity.