Chapter 6 Rejected And Dejected

• He had known Dean Bur to be a radical, mean boss but tonight really revealed the other side of him. He clicked his fingers impatiently at him “What the hell gave you the guts to think you can live here, Jamole?”
• Once he noticed a vein pop from his forehead, he knew he had lost it. Promptly he went down on his knees and molded his arms to plead.
• But the burly man before him tossed his head in refusal and his reddened eyes whipped Jamole severally.
• “You just told me your wife divorced you. How the hell is that my business? I am just stating the obvious, Jamole you can’t live here. Go and rent yourself a house.”
• “No, boss please,” he interrupted him furiously.
• He widened his gaze at Jamole as though to ask him what nerve he had to interrupt him. He had never interrupted Dean Bur for once; he was a boss he revered and feared due to his strong features and personality. But he didn’t know when he did.
• “Boss don’t push me away, please. I have nowhere to lay my head after work; right now I am literally homeless and destitute.”
• Like a cat, his gaze was raised and his eyes dimmed at him, “Can you listen to yourself, buddy, huh? Isn’t it demeaning that you became homeless after a divorce? It is very shameful that your wife foots the bills. If I were you I would tie a noose and hang from it because you are not fit to be a man. You are better off dead.”
• “Oh my God!” Jamole exclaimed in his mind.
• Those words of his really got to Jamole; he shut his eyes and raised his face at the dark cloud above, before warm tears surged down his cheeks. His arms by his side trembled as one that had Parkinson’s disease.
• To say he was chinless was an understatement. He sniffed and dared to protest but his waggling lips failed him.
• As for Dean Bur there was no stopping him. He yelled on, “Listen up, good-for-nothing man, this is municipal post office complex owned by the government of Antipolo. When I employed you as a janitor I never made provision where you can lay your head. Go home, Jamole!”
• “I have no home, boss. The one I had was under the control of my ex-wife because she pays the rent and painfully she has divorced me now.” Quickly, he fondled into the dark corner and pulled out the divorce documents which he flashed into the gaze of Dean Bur.
• But Dean had always been an inconsiderate boss and each time he yelled at Jamole, his foot would stamp on the floor and Jamole knew if he were much closer he would have earned a slap from his boss.
• Just then Dean caught sight of jamole’s bag which lay carelessly by the corner and he fumed even more furiously, “I am not going to tolerate any form of poverty in this post office. Do you understand me, Jamole? You claimed to be homeless after the divorce but you saved enough money to buy Arabic Coral Gold Ring for your wife!” he yelled at the tops of his voice.
• Upon hearing the latter, Jamole gaped at him and lost breath briefly. Heavily, he sweated on his face as those words placed him on the judgment seat and painted him a worthless man.
• Indeed he was a worthless man for spending his entire savings on a birthday gift which regrettably brought about his doom. If only he knew what Stella, his ex-wife was up to, he would have used the savings to rent a house where he could lay his head.
• Jamole kept quiet and swallowed hard while he wept calmly.
• Dean bit at him, “It is disheartening that you are foolish and poor at the same,” Dean snapped at him, “Would anybody believe that a homeless janitor like you could afford such an expensive gold ring for a birthday gift, huh?”
• The resultant echoes of his voice booed on Jamole and reminded him how weak, cowardly, and silly he had been in his marriage.
• Through sniffing Jamole replied, “I know boss, you may think I acted cowardly but I did it to make my wife happy. Buying her the gold ring was the best thing I could have done at the time. I only wanted the best for my wife.” His wailing voice interrupted him and he sniffed back huge tears, which was traceable to what he was about saying next. “You won’t believe it that I caught my wife, and her boss flirting in our matrimonial bed…”
• Dean sounded through chuckling with the intention to mimic and mock him. “I caught my wife and her boss bla-bla-bla. I expected her to do more than that because you are not flamboyant. You are an epitome of poverty, so nobody will respect you. Money attracts power and you don’t have it.”
• Jamole shot a furrowed brow at Dean, snorted and shut his teary eyes before tossing his head in shame.
• Dean thundered. “I know her boss very well. His name is Rogan James, a regional manager at Swan Real Estate Group. Obviously he is richer than you. Do you know what it means to be a staff of Swan Real Estate, let alone a manager, huh? Obviously there is no comparison between the both of you, so you shouldn’t expect honor and submission from your ex-wife, even your ex-wife who is his secretary is richer than you.”
• As though a puzzling thought hit him in the head, Dean reminded Jamole, “Listen up Jamole , I haven’t come to iron out your matrimonial issues. All I am saying is that you can’t spend the night here. Simple.” he clapped his hands.
• Jamole sucked a deep breath, settled his gaze outside and the snowy wind swept across his teary crimson face. “Please boss, I can’t sleep on the street. Winter is much and I could be a victim of street thugs.” He dared to touch Dean on the foot just to plead with him but he pulled away his foot and kept at his distance.
• Stooping, he yelled at Jamole. “Obviously the street is where you belong now. This is the municipal post office block, meant for official stamp duties and not for lodging. Once you are done with your job, it is expected of you to return home!”
• Catching sight of the mountains of fury on the face of his boss, Jamole knew it was a lost cause. He buried his face in his trembling palms and wept into it.
• He raised his face at the ceiling once more and wailed, “Oh Lord this can’t be happening to me! Where do I go from here? What will become of me?”
• Before Dean swirled around to walk away he threatened, “I am about going into my office, by the time I am back I don’t want to see you or any trace of you anywhere around the post office.”
• “Boss…Boss!” Jamole made after him.
• The door slammed on his face when he dared to reach his boss.
• There would have been silence but for the wailing and sobbing tone of Jamole which hung over the hall.