Chapter 2 Wet Pants

" My boy, you really have to pull yourself together. The fact that your father left us doesn't mean that the world has come to an end", our housekeeper, Ma Erica said as she walked into my room and saw me crying myself to death. A lot had happened in just a few days; I had lost my father, spent a good amount of time in jail, and also sustained injuries that almost left my face scarred, my signature fine face.

" Look", she sat near my feet and I sat up to give her the impression that I was paying attention, " your late father; bless his gentle soul, would never have wanted you to be in this current state, feeding yourself tears for drink and isolation for bread. He would never have wanted you to stop living your life".

My eyes which were puffy and dried up of tears were ignited, and tears started flowing effortlessly. I looked at her as I cried and she immediately understood the question on my mind, it was evident on my face - what life are we talking about? The one that ended with my father's?

" The life that you had before he passed away", she was almost sounding melancholic, " it certainly will not be the same as it was but he would still want you to live the best of it, to finish school, get your degree, take over the company and go on many dates with those fine young men that always lurk around you like flies before finally settling down with one of them", she was massaging my hands, letting me know that all was fine.

I couldn't help having an outburst, and I buried myself in her embrace as I let out all the stuffed emotions inside me, calling upon my dad as I cried into her arms while she gently stroked my hair, repeatedly saying that all was well.

That reminded me about my dad all the more, who formed the habit of always saying ' all is well' after we saw the Indian melodrama ' Three Idiots '.

Just like the main character in the movie; Rancho or at least something that sounded like it, dad would always tell me to deceive my heart into believing that all was well, just so that all would eventually become well.

But alas, my heart knew the truth down to its last cell. There was no deceiving it and so I cried out that bittered heart, holding on to Ma Erica; the closest thing I had to a mother.

She had left her family; her husband and nine children in Mexico to seek greener pastures in the U.S, just so that she could support her family back at home. She was employed into our household after getting into the states, and back then as a child I had witnessed her crying in silence. I had innocently confronted her, questioning her of her reasons for crying, that was when she opened up about missing her husband and her children. I had consoled her, and before we could figure out what was going on we had already grown on each other - that was fourteen years ago.

" It's okay my boy", pulling me out of her embrace, " now, I want you to get into the restroom, freshen up, and come downstairs for breakfast, okay?"

I nodded, too tired to say a word.

She left the room and I laid back down on my bed, wishing that I could cover myself with my sheets and disappear. I conflicted with myself and ended up rolling out of bed and into the restroom.

I freed my bladder of the heavy load it was carrying before picking up my toothbrush to clean my sour mouth. I couldn't fully remember what happened while I was brushing, it was either I swallowed the foam from the toothpaste or I didn't use a toothpaste at all, but I didn't rinse my mouth. I was even too distraught to remember how to walk properly, not to talk of brushing my teeth properly. I changed out of the clothes that I had been putting on for several days in a row, noticing how badly I smelled and eventually found my way to the dining table.

Ma Erica had made my favorite - tilapia sandwich and a creamy latte. She came to the dining room, pretending to be looking around for something while just secretly making sure that I ate the meal. I took a sip of the coffee, it's taste blending poorly with my taste buds.

The door to the sitting room opened up and Gianna stepped in, wearing a slim fit, red Dolce and Gabbana gown on a black with gold pearls Prada shoes, together with a golden purse to compliment the whole look - she just seems to not be aware of her age.

" Good morning", she greeted, welcoming herself and taking a seat next to me; she wasn't a stranger in our house, her status had even transcended that of a visitor. " You look terrible", she said, showing a concerned expression that made me feel quite uncomfortable.

" Why are you here this early in the morning?" I had no time to exchange pleasantries. Cinderella had a godmother who had encouraged her to be courageous and kind in all situations, I had none, so to hell with trying to sound nice.

" We have not held a shareholders' meeting ever since your father passed away, and his will is yet to be read", she said, cupping her hands on the table.

" Are any of the shareholders making a problem out of it?"

" Not yet, but I guarantee you, they will. If not this week, then the next, but they will surely make a move if you fail to do what is needed of you".

I took another sip from my coffee, finally relaxing my nerves with its tender hot feeling.

" Schedule a shareholders' meeting next week ", I said, taking a bite of the tilapia sandwich.

I walked into the room with Gianna following behind. Everyone stood as I walked to the seat at the high end, in a fancy suit and tie, looking fresh and young, straight out of the package; as girls would normally say before I get to tell them that I was gay.

I took my seat after which I signaled to the others to do so as well.

I tapped the mic on my desk just to make sure that it was working, and then leaned forward to it, " Good day everyone. I dutifully apologize for calling for this meeting on a very short notice and for disturbing your schedule ", I paused, making sure that I had everyone's attention before continuing, " I've invited my father's lawyer, Mr Thompson to this gathering, just so that the needful will be done using due protocols", they knew what I meant, all of them, wrinkled faces and deceitful eyes all covered with either a neutral look or an insincere smile. I had gotten a lot of those insincere pitiful smiles at my father's funeral; there was no need for more. " Mr Thompson, please go ahead", I instructed the middle-aged man that beside me.

He moved to the lectern at the other end of the room as all eyes went from him to me, all ears eager to hear what he had to say.

" Good day everyone. I am Mr Thompson, the late Mr Middleton's lawyer, and I am here under the jurisdiction of the state property law to read to everyone's hearing Mr Middleton's will", he spoke eloquently, grabbing everyone's attention. I bet they were just interested in what he had to say, not how he said it, " as the major shareholder of the company, with a total of 41% shares in stock, he had instructed that 3% of his shares should be moved to the company's departmental store. To all those whom he had borrowed shares, he had decided to let them keep the shares once they sign an undertaking contract of solidarity to his son, Mr Hunter Middleton. To that effect, he left 38% of his shares in stock to his son, making him the company's major shareholder and ultimately, the new CEO of T.K group", a round of applause was heard, all rhythmic as if they had all decided beforehand to clap in a certain way.

I heaved, not that it wasn't expected, I just felt relieved.

" But there is one condition to be met before the shares can fully become yours", Mr Thompson was addressing me, " before you will be able to take full control of the shares he left for you, you will have to get married to Mr Hazel Mcman", he pronounced the name louder than other things he had said.

I was lost for a second, wondering who the hell Hazel was, before it struck me; or rather I remembered: wet pants.

" What! Hazel who?" I exclaimed, standing to my feet and shocking the entire room.