For over thirty minutes, Zion stood at the edge of the fire place, staring at me as I gazed upon my photo which hung on the wall.
Each time I gazed upon the photo when I was Brian Patrick, tears often swam in my eyes because it left heart-drenching, horrible memories into my soul. I wondered what life would have been for me, if I hadn’t discovered the Mike Don in me.
“Boss you are always sober whenever you gaze on that picture. Perhaps we may have to remove it if it keeps ruining your day,” Zion recoiled through thunderous face.
As though what he just said never got to me, I groaned, “What name is on our black list? Check it up immediately. I need to pay back an enemy in his coin,” Fire stood in my eyes as I stared stilly at my photo losing interest in sipping at my Tom Collins.
Swiftly Zion swapped his tablet phone and dimmed his eyes once he got to a name, “Boss the next name on your black list is Mr. Kenny” he paused and brought his stare on me, “Boss who is Mr. Kenny if I may ask and what did he do to you?” he held a straight face as he expected a reply.
“Mr. Kenny was my landlord when I was Brian Patrick. This evil landlord didn’t give us consideration. He poured hell on my foster father and I. He gave me the most maddening embarrassment of my life when he mocked my foster father for having a criminal son who siphoned fifteen billion dollars from community bank.”
“When I thought that was enough, Mr. Kenny didn’t even give us quit notice over the house rent we owed him. One day at night I had returned from my numerous failed job hunt, when I met my foster father in tears with our properties outside in the cold…” I paused, sucked a deep breath as tears leaked through my eyes…”
Already Zion was dabbing his eyes of the tears that surged in it, “Oh my Jupiter’s Brian! What the hell! That was so cruel of him. Why would any sensible person do that to you?”
I needed to shut my eyes before I could have the imaginary tragedy of that night; how my foster father who was already sick fidgeted in the cold night and threw up blood due to the cold of that night that ate into his lungs .
“As a matter of fact, It was Mr Kenny’s action that led to the demise of my foster father. After that horrible night, my father’s health had not remained the same. With eyes welled up with tears I watched my father perish as a battered kitten.”
Through clenched teeth Zion groaned, “Boss! We must cancel Christmas on his ass! It is payback time! We need to teach him a lesson that he would never forget in a hurry. The rich can be cruel to the poor without any consideration of what tomorrow holds. Look at you today.”
I interposed Zion, with my face which had gone crimson, “Mr. Kenny is going to get it hot from me. From the much I know about him, he has five houses at the suburban real estate and his residence is there also. Today I am the owner of that estate.” I advanced to the shelf, caught hold of the Americano and poured a cupful before I earned my first sip.
“Boss I hunger for vengeance, especially now you just told me, Mr. Kenny resides in the Suburban Estate which today you are the owner. I wonder how he would feel if he gets to know that the poor Brian Patrick is his landlord toady.”
I gulped my Americano one more time, grinned bitterly, “I need you to send a memo to all the residents in that estate. Inform them the world richest man will be visiting in two days and we would have a brief meeting. But before you that I would want you to inform the building engineers about my need for their services.”
Zion dragged a hostile brow across his face, “Building engineers?” he contemplated, “Apologies boss, if I may ask what do you need them for? Are you handling a building project that I don’t know of?”
I snorted and replied, “Tell them to come along with their bulldozers and tractors on the day I would have meeting with residents of suburban estate.”
Feeling I wasn’t into any form of discussion, Zion bowed his head repeatedly to confirm my instruction, “As the world richest man please. But boss,” he protested with lopsided smile hanging on his chin, “About your visit to the suburban estate you are yet to state your means of transportation…”
“My gold-plated private jet wouldn’t be a bad idea ,” I groaned and added, “One more thing , Zion, please instruct my secretary to draft a meme which she would address to the authority of Rio Hondo prison, telling them I will be visiting in five days.” Looking at my other pictures when I was Brian Patrick I could see my horrible days at prison, “I can’t wait to free my first five prisoners for the month.”
Zion sucked a deep breath of relief, it was as if a fresh vibe of fulfillment just sieved into him. Suddenly tears surged down on his cheeks.
I dimmed my eyes at him and contemplated briefly what must have inspired the tears surging down his red chin.
“Boss today is certainly the best day of my life. I am dilated for knowing you not as a cousin, but s a god of wealth who commands wealth and power. For forty years now my good friend Jamal has been in Rio Hondo prison over a murder he was innocent of. Please boss, as you visit Rio Hondo prison, may my friend find favor of you.” he dug out a sizeable photo which he bowed and gave to me.”
I took the photo, gazed upon it and assured him, “Wipe your tears, Zion. Your friend shall be free In five days.”
More power and vengeance loomed on…