webnovel

David's Bran Bread

Facing debt and his mother's death, Etim is forced to face himself as he competes in a sales contest within his organisation.

Ochi_b · Urbain
Pas assez d’évaluations
3 Chs

Chapter 3

I woke up with a start. The lights in the room temporarily blinded me but I slowly adjusted. I was in my mother's hospital room, the beeping of the EKG reminded me. I wondered when I had fallen asleep, or when I had covered myself with a blanket, or even brought one.

I uncovered myself, stood and stretched. My mind was a messy swamp I didn't wish to get into either today or in the future. I had had enough trouble dealing with it in the past week I had been here.

Good news, my mother survived the treatment. She was alive, but barely. Swaddled in bandages and tubes, surrounded by machines and experts, she was alive for now, but no one could say for how long. Worse yet, she still wasn't waking up.

A white hot anger rose up from within my mind which I forcefully suppressed. Now wasn't the time for any of that. There were bigger problems that I needed to solve.

I walked out of the hospital room in search of some liquid courage. My eyes quickly found a coffee vending machine and I began to head towards it.

As I walked my mind began to wander between my mother and my situation. I had been billed by the hospital for her surgery, and everyday she remained in it the charges were piling up.

I reached the machine and dropped in some coins, randomly selecting any of the instant brands. Picking it up, I tore open the container and placed it under the hot water tap, allowing the rapidly building heat to ground me.

My eyes closed as I tried to wrap my head around my situation. I had met with one of the nurses and they had directed me to a place where I had been told that the surgery had cost almost 700,000 and the hospital charged 10,000 for everyday she spent here, and it had already been a week.

The hot coffee spilled from the cup and onto my hand in copious amounts, drawing me back from my thoughts. I quickly pulled my hand back in pain only to realize that it was a wrong move. My hand let go of the coffee cup and it's content spilled on the floor.

Nursing my injury, I searched myself for change, only to realize I didn't have any more. I had spent it all in the last seven days on this particular machine. I kicked it out of frustration and sat on a chair next to it.

I sighed. The bills were mounting and until my mom woke and was declared fit for discharge, they would keep doing so. I ran my fingers through my hair for the umpteenth time this week, completely overwhelmed by the fact that my mother was currently laying in a bed not far from here.

I couldn't imagine life without her. Her smile, her presence, her guidance. Is this how it was going to be when she died. God! I couldn't take it. The thought that at any moment she could just go, just leave me behind, carry on to another world, that I couldn't see her anytime I wished anymore.

Tears streamed down my face. This was the awful reality I was in. One where people danced to the rhythm of some unseen figure who did as he whished, taking lives like a mad man. How could I lose my mother? The only family I had left, how can she be taken away from me?

How can I live knowing that she was gone forever? Forever!? That was too long for me. I didn't want to experience a forever without her. My emotions overwhelmed me and I struggled to keep myself from crying aloud.

A warm hand touched the back of my neck and I looked up. Samuel stood there with a takeaway bag in his hand and a warm smile on his face. His smile calmed me down, and I reluctantly gave him a weak one in return. I couldn't muster the strength to give anything more.

But he didn't ask for anything more. He sat down beside me and handed me a plate of fried rice and chicken from Pears, taking out a plate of jollof for himself. I took a spoon from him and opened the plastic plate, releasing the aromas it had trapped within.

It hit me like a truck, and I realized how hungry I was. Living on biscuit and coffee wasn't exactly the most filling thing. I took a a bite and savoured the taste, feeling like I was doing my mother a disservice for enjoying it so much.

"How is she?" Samuel asked after a few moments of eating in silence.

I sighed. "She's okay, but she's not getting up. The doctors told me not to worry, that they'll be monitoring her condition. The more worrying matter, is the bill."

"How's it looking?"

"Almost 800."

Samuel stopped eating and looked at me, his eyes almost popping out from his skull and I laughed, feeling better for the first time in a while.

"Na car you dey buy, abi na person hospital bill you dey pay?"

I laughed again.

"How do you intend to get the money?" he asked and I shrugged.

"I've got some money in my savings, it will handle some of it. Thank God i followed her advice, my five years saving might make a dent in it. Speaking of which, how is work?"

He sat back, crossed his legs and shrugged. "It's just there. A lot of people on our floor decided to join the competition, so almost everyone is in a team already. Ekpe already has us scouring the streets for buyers, that's what I spent the last week doing. We're doing well, but not as well as some of the truly behemothan teams. Can you imagine, Gregory's team has 150 people? 150? I have no idea how he controls them all."

We ate in silence for a while, but then I had a thought. The prize money from winning the contest was a million. If I joined a small team, my share would be much bigger, wouldn't it? Then I could take whatever we make form the contest and settle the debts! At least most parts.

The idea was brilliant, but hinged on a couple of conditions. First, the group had to be small. There was no point winning if I had to share it was 150 extra people. Second, I had to win.

The time had finally come, for me to be serious with my work.