Chapter 8 Becoming The Richest Tycoon

• When jamole’s eyes opened at dawn and glared around he suddenly realized he had passed the night at the very spot where Susan begged, with her sizeable bag clutched to his chest.
• Hopefully he had waited into the night for Susan to return to the spot where she begged for money but to no avail. He had proposed marriage to her the other day and it was pertinent to brief her about his plans for her.
• Jamole’s gaze investigated his fingers and the empty scar of ring which wound round his fingers hit his imagination. He sighed in exhaustion and hummed.
• Marriage!
• Was that what he needed now? A few years ago before he married Stella he had taken into consideration the distraction that was accrued to marriage. And in his immaculate heart he had decided to remain a bachelor until he became a famous zillionaire in Antipolo.
• He had plans of finishing college, going under the apprenticeship of a capitalist like Swan Pablo and working his way to unimaginable wealth and power.
• But all of that came crashing as balloon the moment he lost his parents and needed comfort and family. He thought he was going to sap his destiny from Stella but little did he know he was in for ruin; already he had seen the wrong signals from Stella’s parents who refused having him as their son-in-law, since he was just a janitor. They wanted their daughter to get married to a fat cat like Swan Pablo.
• The heart break of the other day still hung over him. “Oh Stella ,” he cried, sniffed and wailed silently in his palms, as tears stole away his voice.
• Although he had proposed marriage to Susan, the beggar, yet he could never forget the sacrifices he made for Stella; a woman he thought was going to perch around till the end of time.
• He could recall the battering thought that heaved upon him now; the very day he got a bizarre phone call that a car ran into Susan and there was urgent need for blood transfusion.
• Luckily his blood was a match after a test was conducted and he obliged to donate a pint of blood to the bone of his bone.
• At the time he was a janitor at the Antipolo market square where he earned more than he earned now. He wondered what had possessed his audacity when he walked up to his boss and applied for resignation.
• “Why the hell do you want to resign Jamole?” his boss had asked him.
• Through teary tone Jamole had replied, “My wife just had an accident. She had escaped death by the whisker. Right about now I am the only one that can take care of her.”
• With his head tossing in pity, his boss had said yet further “it is a pity Jamole but you must understand that many people are vying for this job. You can’t resign now.”
• But Jamole had decided to jeopardize his job and there was no turning back. “I am sorry boss. My mind is made up to sacrifice my job for her. She needs me now more than ever.”
• Just for the sake of looking after Stella at home, Jamole became a stay-at home husband; when Stella was chinless he was chinless, when she was down to her last toes, he did same. The accident had caused Stella to lose her entire blond hair after she sustained strenuous scar on her skull. And to gladden her heart and become even with her, Jamole had cut his long hair too.
• Jamole broke down in tears and snapped out of the thought. “I must become rich,” he wailed through disdained tone, “Stella! You did this to me because I am poor, huh. I must make money or die trying. No.” he shook his head. “This is not my end.”
• One of the beggars who had taken cognizance of Jamole’s crimson face asked, “Why are you all tears, dear? Did anything happen to Susan? Or is it because you are yet to see her?”
• Jamole sucked a huge grin, sniffed hastily. “Never mind, dear.” He shook his head fecklessly, “I am fine.” He glanced at his wrist watch and realized he was late for work. “I should be on my way now.” His eyes combed around the busy road, believing Susan was going to come in sight by any slightest chance, “Please should Susan come around do inform her that Jamoel, her fiancée came looking for her. In fact I spent the night.”
• The beggar affirmed with a slight nod. “I will, buddy.” The beggar who was also in a wheel chair, wheeled himself closer to him. “Come to think of it I must commend your humility to date such a physically challenged lady like Susan. You must really dote on her.”
• Jamole forced a smile. “I guess I don’t give a damn about her condition. What matters most is what we feel for each other and besides she loves me the way I am.” His eyes glared down from his torn shirt to his shabby shoes which had yawning soles.
• The beggar shook his head in pity and grinned. “Money isn’t everything, buddy. If you both stick around each other and work hard you won’t remain poor forever.”
• Jamole snorted and his gaze promptly resettled on his wrist watch again. “Thank you for the advice, dear. I must get going now. My boss must be mad at me for resuming late.”
• About taking a swift turn to dash away, the beggar interrupted him, “I am Micheal.”
• Without any interest to continue the discussion, Jamole chirped, “I am Jamole. Nice to meet you, Micheal,” And ran away in haste.
• ***
• Jamole knew it was going to get to this. Since he resumed work and for over thirty minutes, Dean Bur, his boss had been shouting thunderously at him.
• “I don’t work with mediocre. Did you check your time, broke ass? You have never been serious with this job. I think it is high time I sacked you and replaced you with a serious janitor!”
• Pulling down on his knees , Jamole molded his arms and pled, “No boss please don’t do this to me. I can’t afford the ten dollars transport fare so I had to run down to this place. This was one of the reasons I wanted to spend the night at the municipal hall so I would be punctual…”
• “You idiot!” Dean cursed, “Are you insinuating that I am the reason for your lateness because I refused to let you spend the night here, huh?”
• “No, boss, I am just…”
• Jamole had barely finished his statement when Dean Bur left like lightning and returned with a paper handy.
• “You fool!” he snapped, “You are hereby sacked. Let me see how you will survive with this poverty-stricken mentality of yours!” he tossed the paper at his face.
• Jamole’s gaze widened at the paper which had his details and information about the termination of his job.
• “No, boss you can’t do this to me, not now. Please,” his lips trembled as he pled and promptly tears trickled down his cheeks.
• “You poverty-stricken kitten!” Dean fumed, letting veins pop through his brow, “Now I see the reason your ex wife divorced you. Poor people like you are lazy and can never breakthrough in life because you don’t appreciate what you have.”
• “Please boss, don’t do this to me,” Jamole growled , “Where do I go from here? How do I fend for myself? This is the only solace I have. This is my only means of livelihood. Please…”
• He was about stretching his arm to Dean’s foot when the latter kicked away his arm.
• And Jamole shrieked with pain as he wailed at the tops of his voice and raised his gaze at the woolly blue sky above.
• “God why is all this happening to me? What sort of ill fate is this? My wife divorced me and now I have lost my job.” He sniffed, “Oh God…”
• Just then he was interrupted by fleets of Lamborghini, Bugatti, Ferrari and Austin Martin which cruised into the compound and halted.
• Jamole sniffed and quickly wiped his cheeks of the tears that surged down. He needed to perk up because a mogul just arrived.
• “Swan Pablo is! Wow!” Dean remark as his gaze settled on the plate numbers which had SWAN PABLO written on them. He gazed down to Jamole, “Now take your poverty-stricken self out of this place. The richest man in Antipolo is here!” he thundered.
• Gently the doors on the cars started opening and slamming as hefty, burly-looking, well-suited security alighted and paced down to the stylish Austin Martin car.
• They bowed before they opened the door. Already one of the securities was bringing out a wheel chair from the Lamborghini.
• Jamole raised a distorted brow; the wheel chair looked familiar. When he thought his sight was deceiving him, lo and behold a pretty looking dashing female was helped into the wheel chair.
• Susan!” Jamole screamed, once their gaze met.
• Something was about to happen…