Hear No Evil

The music on the rooftop got harder and louder. I smoked and thought about tomorrow.

Then I had an idea. I got up, went down to the ATM on the corner and took out as much cash as I could, a whole thick stack of it. I put it in a bag and threw the bag into my car. I might need it out in the countryside.

I wanted to be ready for everything. I was excited. I hadn't been on a trip in a long time.

When I came back up, Thura looked at me. "Dude, it's raining outside. Come on, sit down and relax. What's wrong with you?"

"I'm just excited for tomorrow."

"What? Really?" He laughed. "I've never heard you say you were excited about anything."

"Yeah. I think I need to rest for tomorrow. It's getting late."

"Hey, come on, man. It's only ten. Sit for a while."

"It's fine. I'm going."

"Alright, then. If I can't stop you. See you, man."

I got into my car. The rain was heavy and wouldn't stop. It just kept pouring. I sat there for a moment with my eyes closed, and I thought about Moe again.

I had almost forgotten her. She was still at home, in my room, waiting for me. I wanted to go back and kiss her lips again.

I started the car and drove. The rain kept pouring. My phone rang, but I didn't pick up. I had to focus on the road. I drove fast, much too fast. It felt like Moe was sitting right there beside me in the passenger seat. If she were, I would want to live our time together all over again.

At last I reached home and parked. Nobody was in the living room. Nobody came to open the gate.

"What is this?" I said out loud.

I hurried inside, and I heard my father's voice. He was talking to the maid and Aunty.

"Hey, girl. If you're ungrateful, that's fine. Then don't go."

"Sir, I'm really sorry. I was just scared."

"You bitch." His voice got louder. "You think my son is a bad person, huh? I raised him well. I know him."

He punched her in the face.

Aunty didn't try to pull him away.

Later, I found out the maid had gone to my father herself. She had told him something was wrong with me, that I needed help. She had been worried about me.

The maid fell at my father's feet, crying and begging. Then he saw me.

"Wathone. This girl isn't as good as you said, son. Be careful around her. She's a lying bitch."

"What happened, Dad? Don't hit her."

"Please, sir," the maid begged. "I'm begging you."

"She doesn't want to go, son," my father said. "Forget about the trip."

"Okay, Dad. I understand."

"You little bitch," Aunty said to her. "The young master offered you something nobody else could ever get, and you refused."

"Aunty, please—"

"It's okay," I said. "Let her rest. If she doesn't want to go, it's fine."

"Aunty," my father said, "I don't want to see that bitch in my house again. Ungrateful piece of shit." He pointed at the maid on the floor. "She talks to my son like he kills people. If he wanted to kill you, I would let him. I own the law. I am the law. This country runs under my feet. They do what I say. They think what I want them to think."

Aunty pulled the girl up by the arm. "You're lucky he only said that. If he wanted to send you to jail, he could. Come on, get up. Stop crying." She bowed her head to me. "Excuse me, young master."

They both walked past me toward the servants' room.

"Son," my father said, "don't be nice to these people. They're rats. Scum. They always will be. They can't be taught."

"Yes, Father." I took the box out of my bag. "I bought a new phone for you. Here."

I had actually bought it to surprise the maid and win her trust. But I could use it now.

"Oh, my son." His face softened. "Good boy. I raised you well, I know it. Go and get some rest."

"Okay, Dad. Good night."

Well. There went my plan, like water poured into sand.

My father seemed furious tonight. I'd better hurry to my room.

On the way to my room, I heard crying. The maid was crying hard, begging to keep her job.

My idea of her wasn't finished. If she couldn't work here, I couldn't get close to her. So I did what I had to do. I walked back to my father.

"Dad, I want to talk to you."

"Not now, Wathone."

"It's important."

"What, Wathone?"

"Father, I don't think we should fire that maid. Finding another one is hard, and it takes time."

"Wathone, that's not your problem."

"Dad, I insist. Let her work here. She's friendly and—"

"That's enough, Wathone. She called you a killer. I know my son isn't one. I raised my son. I know what my son is."

I couldn't agree more. Except it was the maids who raised me. He was never home to begin with.

I saw my sister on the stairs, watching it all unfold.

"Son," my father said, "there are plenty of women you can have fun with. Forget about that bitch who insulted our family." He said it angrily, turning the new phone over in his hands, trying it out. Then he stopped and looked at me differently, the way he looks at his officers when they do something right. "Son, when you have power, you can do whatever you want. In this country, I hold the power. You're my son. You have power too."

"Really?"

For the first time, something he said surprised me. Did I really have that kind of power? I tapped the tip of my nose.

"Yes, my son. I think you're old enough to know. The people of this country stay under my feet. Every CEO. Every politician. Every soldier. I have millions of soldiers who would kill for me if I pointed. And you have that power too. You're my son. One day you'll take my place."

Something sparked in my eyes, like fire. Something inside me felt comforted and burning at the same time. For the first time in a long time, I wanted to be my father. I wanted a power that no one could refuse. No one would dare question what I did, or what I wanted.

"Dad," I said. "One day I'll follow in your footsteps."

"That's my son. You don't need to worry about when I'm gone. You'll be here. I'm sure of that."

"Why didn't you ever tell me this? Why now?"

"Because now you're old enough. It's time." He set the phone down. "I'll give you a taste of my power right now. The maid. You decide. Keep her or fire her. I don't care."

"I'll keep her anyway. I've decided."

"Very good. That's the point." He looked at me. "But whatever happens with the maid, and whatever the consequences are, you take care of it. You hear me?"

"Yes, Father."

"Go now. Get some rest."

The trip was gone. But she would be here every day now, in my house. I had a better idea for her. One day, she would come to me on her own. Needing me.

My hands were shaking. I felt emotional, standing there with my father. I nodded and ran to my bedroom, pulled the box out from under my bed and opened it.

Moe.

I kissed her lips, the way I had wanted to all night. Then I lay back on the bed with the box beside me, and I thought about tomorrow, waking up with power. When I took my father's place, no one would stop me.

Not even God himself.

To be continued...