Chapter 3: RICHARD
"Are you alright, Sir?" Lanke, my driver asked with that weird accent of his.
" Of course I’m not" I had wanted to snap, but Lanke was one of those few persons I’ve come to respect. He was a black, advancing into his late fifties. Three years into the job, putting up with my outbursts, insults and demeaning attitude, I respected him unlike those young blood who always bailed a few months from the job.
The longest anyone of them had stayed was a year and six months before deciding that my attitude wasn’t worth the pay. I never expected that I would ever come to like Lanke, one, he was older and doesn’t get me at times and two, he has a weird accent which he claimed was because he was a Yoruban.
A tribe according to him in West Africa, Nigeria to be precise.
The truth was that I’m far from alright. How could I be when each second, minute, hour and day, feels like a countdown leading to the inevitable. I may not take my situation seriously in the presence of others, but deep down I was scared shit of dying.
I watched him look at me again through the rear mirror, his face a contour of worried lines and reminded myself that I was Richard Wellington and I hate pity. Lanke knew of my condition and that alone should be enough to fire him, but for some unfathomable reasons, I just couldn’t.
"Lanke, what have I told you about that look?" I asked, catching him off guard.
"Uhm... Sorry Sir, as a father myself I..."
"Just wipe it off your face and keep your eyes on the road" I interjected, not in the mood for his overly concern.
With a forced smile, he muttered, "Yes Sir".
A pang of guilt thrummed through me and before it could spread to my cold heart, my phone rang.
The number wasn’t one I recognized and as I wasn’t in the mood for dealing with strangers or fans. I allowed it to continue vibrating. The urge to get high and simply float on the clouds of ecstasy tugged with desperation in my mind as the phone kept ringing. But I couldn’t even do that since I was with Lanke, and he hated seeing me smoke. It’s times like this that I miss my younger employees, especially Trey, who always got the good stuff.