Almost every day now my wife, Clara Roham was out in public sharing wads of dollars to the poor on the street and taking more than a handful of them from the street into a nicely decorated apartment with all expenses on her.
Melissa had been stalking on her for over four days now after she was told Clara just got back from her world tour. So this day Melissa perched by the corner of the road, and watched through her sunshades as Clara treated the less privileged ones with dollars.
Melissa couldn’t believe the crowd Clara pulled and the innumerable host of paparazzi and the media. Although she never anticipated it yet she wondered how she was going to break through Clara’s tight security and table her problem to her. This was her fear; that Clara had become a super woman all of a sudden; that my wealth had leapt Clara to the top.
“Oh my gosh!” Melissa thought within herself. “Behold the expensive diamonds that filled her neck and wrist. This was our garbage girl that couldn’t afford a decent dress.” She sniffed and dabbed her eyes of the tears that welled up, “I can’t believe this is the poor dirty Clara that barely smelled nice. Can you imagine what she is doing with dollars? Brian Patrick has changed her life. She has taken my place. This was supposed to be me …”
While she was lost in the gloom of her thought a lady tapped her on the shoulders and interrupted her thought.
“Heh, dear, why stand and watch wife to the world richest man share dollars? Don’t you want to partake of it, uh?”
Melissa Wanted to transfer her aggression on the strange lady. But instead she forced a smile and managed to say, “No, never mind. I would prefer to be a watcher. I…I don’t need her dirty money. I am contented with the much I have…”
The strange lady interrupted her yet again, “Heh, you can’t tell me otherwise. You need her money. That is why you are here. Besides do you know who she is? She is Clara Roham, wife to the world richest man, Mike Don. She is such a philanthropist. She goes about eradicating poverty. I thought you came for her dollars. I would have loved the both of us to go for ours. Aren’t we poor after all…?”
“Heh, heh, you dope!” Melissa barked and her subject got startled and drifted away, “What make you think I am a pauper like you, uh? If you came here for her dirty money, why don’t you go straight away and get it. Why pester me, you maggot!”
The strange lady shook her head in disappointment and replied, “Apologies. I never knew I was talking to a toxic envious fellow. You can choose to remain a watcher. I am going for my own dollars.” She stamped her feet away and joined the crowd.
Melissa snorted, tossed her head in loss and masked her teary face as she couldn’t bear the sight of Clara Roham.
She had decided to monitor her until she would seize the opportunity to confront her and beg for her assistance in raisin the half a million dollars. She would have loved to confront Clara Roham right there but for the crowd and tight security.
Just then memories of all she did to Clara Roham hit her in the head; the countless battering and yelling just because she was their garbage girl.
“No Clara would be nice to me. Beside if we hadn’t employed her as our garbage girl, Brian wouldn’t have seen her to propose marriage to her. She just got to be grateful to us, so I see no reason she shouldn’t pay the medical bills of Lisa Bake…”
She was interrupted by the sight of Clara Roham being interviewed by a bunch of intrigued journalists who surrounded her with their recorders.
“What a life! Behold a poor dirty, Clara Roham of yesterday now stand and be interviewed by a party journalist. I believe the entire world would be watching her now…” she choked on her words when tears surged her cheeks.
The convoy of exotic cars zoomed into the large edifice which had at its entrance written;
The Mike Don Villa.
And when the automatic gate was about shutting, Melissa scuttled into the compound but was stopped by the host of well suited security who caught sight of her just then.
“Please I mean no harm!” she wailed at the tops of her voice as the security held her at a spot and wouldn’t want her to make a further move, “I am Melissa Fanny. I know Clara Roham! I have an urgent need!” she wailed.
But there was no stopping her. She kept pushing against the host of security until Clara Roham was left to alight from her Ferrari.
Initially Clara Roham thought it was one of her fans who often stalked her for the wads of dollars she often shared. She was drawn and exhausted at the time and wasn’t ready to attend to her. She was actually walking away now, hoping to order her security to give her some wads of dollars and foods not until she heard the familiar name.
“Clara Roham! I know you and you know me! It is Melissa Fanny!”
Clara swirled around in one moment of shock and took of her sunshades to confirm her sight. She dimmed her eyes and started walking back to Melissa majestically, with her eyes narrowed at her.
“Clara Roham it is me, Melissa fanny. You were once our garbage girl!” she said emphatically as she dared to steal a glance across the burly stiff shoulders of the security who held her at a spot.
Clara’s eyes were still dimmed at the unkempt, scraggly-haired lady who was yearning to meet with her. She recalled who she was now. And the moment she scowled her face in wrath, she sounded, “Are you the same Melissa Fanny the daughter of Fanny Luis who hired me as their garage girl, uh?”
Melissa gave a weak nod and lowered her gaze in shame when Clara Roham frowned furiously at her…