I froze, the moment I heard Deola’s voice from outside saying three policemen were looking for me. Wait! There were there, outside my very own door? Not one, not two… three policemen? My inability to process the flood of thoughts that overwhelmed me all at once, must have set my whole body trembling with an impromptu fever. “Kay! Are you okay?” my boss inquired curiously from where he was seated, seemingly breaking off fear’s spell, that had held me bound those few moments. “No Boss, I’m not okay. I mean yes! I’m just pressed. I need to make use of the rest room immediately,” I lied. “Okay, you can go, I’ll see to the door and attend to them,” he replied.
I quickly scurried off into the rest room and immediately, bolted the door behind me. I was already sweating profusely. I tried to urinate and only had few drops of spring escape the placid pale looking gentleman of the inner chambers. I heard the front door creek open, heard my boss exchanging pleasantries with the policemen almost immediately, before the door closed behind him. Then I heard nothing else. I couldn’t hear the discussions between my boss and the policemen. Everywhere had suddenly become silent. I waited to hear something, anything. But there came no single sound at all, not even from the children I expected to still be playing outside. It was grave silence that prevailed or was it just my fears, playing a smart trick on me?
Everything seemed to have died down all at once only to pave way for me to hear and listen to the pounding of my heartbeat. What could be happening outside? Have they found out about my involvement in last night’s murder case? Fear flushed cold into my veins at the very thought of it. Or had someone seen me and my boss trying to make out through the window and called the police? I quickly knocked the idea of me and my boss off as a probability almost as immediate as the thought came, because my window was very high with the way my apartment was built. No one standing behind could even get their hands close to the edges. I sat down on the WC patiently waiting for any sound, especially my boss’s or the creaking of my door. As I waited I listened to my rumbling stomach and my pounding heartbeat making music that reminded me of nothing but an anonymous death-metal rock band. I bowed my head, clasped my hands and bit my lips, wishing all these never happened or better still it would all just end this moment.
“Kay?” my boss’s voice pierced through together with the creaking of the door as he gently opened it. “Kay?” he called again. “Yes boss,” I replied sluggishly from indie the rest room, feigning weakness. “What is the matter with you Kay? You don’t sound good. Is anything the matter? He asked with a concern and sincerity that pierced my heart. Yet, I did not respond. I kept quiet and I knew it would raise his curiosity. “Kay,” he called again banging the door with his hand. “What is happening in there,” he inquired, this time with much seriousness and concern in his voice. Slowly, I unbolted the door and staggered out, pretending I was very, very weak. “I’m not feeling fine boss. I don’t know what is wrong with me,” I muttered. I said. “Okay! Okay!! I’m taking you straight away to my private clinic for immediate checkup and treatment. Okay?” he said, with slight panic in his voice, although he tried to control it with his unwavering gesture of concern and care.
He helped me to his car, then to its back seat, where he gently helped me lay down. He dashed back to my house, locked up and dashed back to is car, as if I was going to die the next moment if he wasted any more time. Jumped into his seat and ignited his car engine. He swung back, took a close look at me and said, “You’ll be fine, Okay? Don’t worry. There are specialist at my private clinic and you’re sure to get the best of attention and treatment needed for you to bounce back to health, Okay” he said, looking and hoping to get a possible affirmative answer to his words.
I looked at him and a pang of pain and guilt shrouded my heart. Why am I punishing him for something that he knows nothing about? Why am I making him suffer for something that doesn’t even exist? I am not sick and wasn’t even sure for what reasons the policemen had even come. I heaved a very heavy sigh at the thought and quietly said to him, “Take me to your house boss.” He looked again at me closely, this time placing his hand on my forehead and then asked, “Are you sure about this? Why don’t you just allow me take you to the hospital for at least some checkups, please,” he asked. “Yes, I am fine boss. No need for the clinic. I think I know what’s wrong with me. Perhaps, I just need a change of environment. If I don’t get any better, then we can head to the clinics. But I’m very sure I’ll be fine without them,” I said. “Okay then, would you be needing anything from your house. I can quickly get some of them at ease for you, with your directions. Maybe your laptop or something else,” he inquired aptly. “No sir! Just take me away from here. I think I really need a break from the screens as well,” I replied. “Alright then,” he said as he gently drove out from my neighborhood. I tried to sit up and only then did I notice that a small crowd had already gathered, watching us all the while. I sighted someone waving at me. It was Deola. I waved back at him and watched his tiny figure, as it gradually faded into the street’s perspective.
I can’t tell how long we’d been on the road because I had slept off. It was a constant yanking of a car horn that had woken me up. We were already at my boss’s place. The massive gates rolled backwards as the security guards pulled them away, revealing his beautiful bungalow. Believe me this is no ordinary edifice. It is one of exquisite taste. I think he repainted it. Dang! This house is soooooo fine. My boss has an impeccable taste. I don’t know how he does it. Everything about his seems flawless, from his choice of perfume even down to is bulge. He seems to know exactly what suits him perfectly.
I had eased off greatly from the tension. Thanks to the sleep and a ride from a boss who cares. We walked inside greeted by the security guards. He plays with one of the, an elderly man, throwing playful punches at him. They both laughed as he shook his hand and went to open the door to his living room. “Arrrrggghhhhh,” I screamed, as two big-headed Alsatian dogs came panting through the opened door. I quickly hid behind my boss as he continued to jerk from some series of mischievous laughter. “What is it Kay?” he said as he continue to laugh, looking at my nervous facial expressions. “I thought you liked dogs? You always boasted about your love for dogs,” he mocked. “Yes boss! Dogs, not wolves,” I retorted. He made some gestures and both dogs disappeared from our sight. He continued to laugh as he walked towards a switchboard in the room. He pulls the switch down and the whole room was lit up. “Did you repaint your apartment boss,” I asked, filled with awe at the new look of his house, compared to the last time I came around. I carefully savored the interior décor and visual aesthetic of the room we were in. “Yes, I did! The last time you came here, it was a mixture of lilac and peach colors, but presently what we have is a monochromatic play of tints and shade of sky blue,” he said, eyes filled with joy and excitement.
I took some time to survey the artworks in the room, majorly paintings and sculptural pieces. The sculptural pieces seemed to capture my attention most because they didn’t look like something within the shores of our country. “Boss, where did you get these sculptural pieces,” I asked. “Oh those?” he said peeking his head out from one of the rooms he had walked into. “I bought those from my last trip to Tanzania - crazy stuff I’d say. A horse dancing with a hippo or so it seems,” he said referring to the piece I had picked up from its stand. I laughed as I carefully placed back the piece. “Go have a shower while I prepare us something. You’ll find all you need there, including some shorts and t-shirt to change into,” he said. “Okay boss. Thanks,” I replied.
I took my bath, changed and came back into the room. Table was being set by boss. He had two bottle of red wine and two champagne glasses. “Let me help you with some of those boss,” I said. “It’s Sean, Kay. Seeaann. Call me Sean, Okay?” he replied softly, looking at me as he gently handed me the champagne glasses and a bottle of red wine. “I can’t ever bring myself to calling you by your name sir. You are my boss and calling you by your name would really make me feel out of place. Not only that, I would feel I’m taking you for granted,” I retorted, looking a bit indecisive. “Why can’t you? Huh? Anyway have your seat let's eat and then afterwards we can talk if we still have the strength. If not we watch movies and then go to sleep afterwards. There’s always tomorrow to talk,” he said as he tore apart the silver foil covering the wine’s top. “Yes, yes, yessss!!! That reminds me. I didn’t even tell you what the policemen said today when I went out to talk with them," he said, as he popped open the wine and poured some into my glass and then his. “What did they say?” I said, trying to feign disinterest in what he had to say. He gulped down some of the wine from his glass and said, “They said someone was murdered last night, two streets away from yours. Well, not really murder. Its manslaughter according to their description. These policemen have allowed bribe make them unable to properly differentiate between crimes,” he said, as he gulped down more goblets from his glass and laughed lightly. “Manslaughter?” I inquired. “Yes. Well, they were all out and about their minor investigations today at your neighborhood, which was why they knocked at your door. I told them you are my friend and we were together at the office where we work, throughout yesterday. And also that you’ve been at my place, that I only brought you home to take few of your things and then we'll head back to my place. Yes, I remember also they said they found a phone and they were going to unlock it and see the contents of the phone. They claim that whoever the phone belonged to might serve as a prime suspect, because they found the phone at the scene of the crime,” he concluded.
A phone? That reminds me. I last saw my phone few minutes before I slept off at the office yesterday. That was before the encounter with my boss. Now, I’m feeling the heat of this subtle fire burning beneath me. I think I’m in for real trouble. Did I run out of the office with it? If I didn’t my boss would have found it and returned it together with the laptop and wallet. I didn’t sight it at home earlier today either. That tastes like a piece of rotten shit being forced down my through. This is my demise. I think it's my phone they found.
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