Five months, six days and 4 hours, that is the exact amount of time I had spent working for the Baker, and I had never met him, the closest I ever got to him was through Gbenga, who seemed to be much more than just a manager.
Everything ran through Gbenga, from security updates to shipping and dispatch reports, and to say he was efficient was understating it. Gbenga was an organized fellow, totally different from the goofy and laid back fellow I knew back in our school days.
The money was rolling in, and I meant rolling in, because by this time I had moved out of my former apartment, into a more luxurious pad, and I had bought a nice car, well, nice enough to move me from point a to point B. Yes, I had come a long way, and I was loving it.
Well, at this point, any normal human being would be asking questions, I mean how could one make so much just from bread? Or was the word Bread just a code? I didn’t have time to ask myself or anyone that question, after all I saw bread, and I saw flour, so what was my own,? At this point, I can safely say I wasn’t normal!
All good things, they say, must come to an end, but don’t worry this wasn’t about to come to an end, I just felt like saying that! Anyway, I was working late one day, just after finishing my rounds on the Production floor, I decided to pay Gbenga a visit in his office. I headed up there and just as I was about to knock, I heard voices, well not voices; I heard one voice and one whimpering sound. From the whimpering, I could vaguely hear some pleading, and without thinking I barged in, and I wish I had not, what I saw was straight out of a movie. Gbenga was sitting comfortably behind his desk, there was a guy tied up in a chair, blood dripping from various parts of his face, the same chair I had sat months back when I first walked into this very office, and a man standing right in front of him with a gun to his head. I immediately recognized the man with the gun, he was Mr Ronald, not Ronald, not Ron, not Ronny, but just plain old Mr Ronald, he always made sure everyone called him that, and I can safely say he was the only person in the entire organization that never smiled. You must forgive me, I have a habit of digressing, but I guess it’s probably just a coping mechanism for me.
Anyway, back to the story, i barged in, the whole scene blew my mind, I was trying very quickly to process all I was seeing, and suddenly Gbenga called my name very gently, “Tony, what are you doing here? I thought you were done for the day”. I heard Gbenga speak, but my eyes kept darting from the man in the chair, to Mr Ronald, to his gun, and then back to the man in the chair. My head was pounding, my heart was racing, my intestines were doing a native tribal rain dance, and I thought they would jump out and run away, since my feet were obviously failing at their duty.
“Tony”…… Gbenga raised his voice a little bit this time, jolting me and forcing an automated answer, “I was just doing my usual end-of-day rounds, when I decided to see how you were doing’’ I said without taking my eyes off Mr Ronald and his gun. Gbenga got up from behind his desk and walked over to me, he put his hand on my shoulder and squeezed gently. “You shouldn’t be here, he said, I slowly turned my head and looked straight into his face, his eyes were not dark as I expected them to be, in fact they were bright, and there was a faint smile on his lips, this scared me the most.
I opened my mouth to speak, but it was dry, the last time my mouth was this dry, I was standing in front on an eatery watching some kids play with their drinks, while I was wishing I had enough money to buy one,. Gbenga squeezed my shoulder, a bit harder this time, and I spoke,.”I just wanted to see if we could hang out tonight, but I guess you are tied up, so I’ll catch you some other time”. Gbenga burst out laughing. “Tony, Tony, always the funny man’’, he said as he walked back to this seat, ‘’don’t worry about this, it’s just a small internal problem we are dealing with’’ he continued, and in my mind I was like, if you deal with internal issues this way, what hope is there for external issues?!
Gbenga went back to his seat behind the desk, ”You are free to go Tony, I’ll call you later tonight” he said casually. “Mr Ronald will escort you to your car, we need to keep our employees safe you know” he continued calmly. My eyes immediately darted back to Mr Ronald, who was already putting his gun away and adjusting his tie, his face was totally expressionless, and I can confidently say at this point I almost peed myself, oh who was I kidding? I was already peeing myself, and I wanted to tell Gbenga not to bother, but something told me to keep my mouth closed.
I turned around and walked out of the room like a zombie. I didn’t turn back once, I thought if I didn’t. he would by some cosmic force disappear, and I would run like the wind, but as my luck would have it, those in charge of the cosmic forces had closed for the day, so I was stuck with this no-smiling- gun-wielding sadist that never had anything to smile about.
WATCH OUT FOR THE CONCLUDING PART OF THIS STORY NEXT WEEK!
Arome Ameh (AKA The Priest)
Arome Ameh is a former Banker turned Screen Writer/Producer/Blogger. He has written/produced both True Life/Fictional Stories/documentaries Via his blog www.ameharome.WordPress.com and on TV/Youtube.