A Slap

ANDREW 

Hopping down from my car, I mouthed a silent prayer in my heart. At this point, I didn't need anyone to tell me before I understood that the Boss was mad at me and even how prone I was to be slapped if care was not taken. 

“Good morning—” I said to the others I met on my way, stopping in my tracks when I caught up with the entrance of the largest room. “Is the Boss in?”

The man, who was employed to serve as a security guard, looked down at me, up again before giving a nod. “He is expecting you. You had better be careful with him.” 

Those words, like a bomb, sounded over and over again in my head. I should ask the man what he meant, but why would I when I knew clearly what the man was trying to say? All I did was give a nod and walk past that door. 

And there he was. 

Boss. The owner of the only illegal organization running on the low in the City. Fear clouded my thoughts. I could not think properly again but I walked till I caught up with the center of the room. 

“Boss,” my head faced the ground. “Good morning, Boss. I have come just as you've asked me to.” 

“No, I didn't ask you to,” his deep-toned voice sounded, alongside a chuckle that ran out of his mouth. “You're here because you want to be, and that's why you came. And I also want to believe that you came with the piece of paper I asked you to bring along, unless, of course, you want to be punished greatly more than the one I have planned.” 

Planned?!

Was he planning to do something to me? 

Oh, no. 

I should have just stayed back in the house with Laura who sure wanted me around. How could I have made a mistake like this? I looked up, finally, meeting the gaze of the Boss whose countenance told me the trouble I was in. 

“I—” my words failed me. “I came with the piece of paper, Boss. But I need you to understand that I am sorry and this was a costly mistake that won't happen again.” 

“You're not at fault, yet, or are you?” 

For the first time in a long time, the Boss got on his feet while talking to one of us. 

“Relax a little, Andrew. I need to be certain that this mistake wasn't from you, but from me who personally scribbled the house number on that piece of paper. Maybe. Just maybe I made a mistake or don't you think so?” 

He now caught up with me. “Hand over the piece of paper, Andrew. Or did you not come with it?” 

Shakily, I reached for my pocket and took it out. 

“Thank you,” with a mischievous smile on his face, he nodded, taking it from me. The next seconds were his gaze on me and soon enough, he opened the piece of paper and looked into it. “Look what we have here. House 16.” 

“Boss, please—”

I was shut up. 

Not with a statement, but his hand on my face. I had almost fallen to the ground but the man, who wanted to see me fall to the ground, pushed me again and there I was—guarding my face so that I did not hit it. 

“How dare you?!” 

This was trouble. 

“Do you know what this could have cost us?!” He shouted, his deep-toned voice hitting the walls of the entire room. 

“How could you be so careless? Is your new marriage a problem for you? If it is, why not leave this job and face your wife instead of implicating us?” 

“Please, Boss.” 

“You don't speak when I speak, Andrew. Do you need me to teach you that also?” He chuckled and snapped his fingers. Two men appeared and he said, “Take him off the ground. I need to look into his face and speak with him.” 

Hands touched me soon. 

I was on my feet and facing the Boss in moments. Fear had become my companion all of a sudden, and I feared for what would happen next. “I'm sorry.” 

“Don't be,” Boss turned around and walked away. He was seated in his chair once more, while a sigh of relief ran out of my mouth. “You're very lucky the man who lives in House 6 is a customer who has gotten coke from us on several occasions. I wonder what you'll be telling the police by now because you have no right to give anyone here off to them. Unless you don't love your little family.” 

I looked to the ground. 

“You have been here with us for a long time—over two years. Why are you acting like you don't know how things are done here?” He sounded. His voice had come back to normal, but I didn't need a soothsayer to tell me that this wasn't the end and that there was more to come. 

Maybe more punishment. 

The Boss was a man with enough temper that could burn down a house. The push to the ground and hit on my face was not half of what he would do on a normal day. 

“The man who you gave it to, reached out to me over the night. And I reached out to you after the call. Do you know what that means? There's no way you would go back there to claim the coke because this isn't his fault, but yours who would be paying for this loss.” Again, he laughed. 

“There's another package waiting for you in the storeroom—” he let out. “Now, you'd go and get it, then go to House 16 where it would be delivered. This will be your last time with us if you don't do a good job this time around. Are you even listening to me?” 

“Yes, Boss.” 

He nodded, and made a gesture with his hand. 

“You may leave.” 

No. 

Was that all? 

That was very unlike him. 

Did he have plans to kill me on my way to the Estate? Walking away from his sight, I moved into the storeroom where we stored all kinds of illegal drugs, leading my way to the closet where ordered packages were kept. 

Opening the closet, I looked inside and found what I was looking for. Fear gripped me again, and I struggled to remind myself that no mistakes had better been made. But how could I make such a big mistake? I had done well for the organization since I came into the gang. 

What then happened? 

Putting the package in my backpack, I walked out of the room. “I'm ready, Boss. Is there something else?” 

“No. Not at all,” the man sounded. “If there's something else you should know, then it should be your deduction at the end of the month. You'll not get the usual, but a small cut from it. I'm sure you'll be fine.” 

“But, Boss—” 

“I believe that's all, Andrew. You may now leave my sight.” 

Bowing, I turned around and walked away. 

Anger was an understatement of what I could feel. 

But this wasn't the man's fault, rather it was mine. 

Hopping in the car, I dumped my backpack on the seat. And then, I started the cat, driving out of the compound while leading my way out of the secret path. 

Almost nobody in the City knew where we resided. How Boss was able to do that, I didn't know. 

All that mattered to me was delivering this coke to the customer and leading my way back to the warehouse in case there were more tasks Boss wanted me to do. 

But what if the man didn't trust me anymore? 

What if, according to him, I was no longer good for this job? Then that would be the end of many monies in my account when the month ended. 

How would I cope and survive? 

“No—No way—No!” The word rushed out of my mouth. “The Boss cannot give up on me because of a small mistake. Can he?” Finally, I led my way through the streets of the City, en route to the Estate and then to House number 16. 

In a short while, I caught up with the Estate. 

My phone then rang. 

Slowing down my pace, I picked up the call. “Boss?” 

“Yes, Andrew—” from the other end, the man sounded. “I'd be careful with the House numbers if I were you.” As though I was a kid, the man warned me and that was all. He ended the call before I could say something. 

In understanding, I dropped back the phone. And just then, I started to count. Carefully and one by one, I counted until I reached House number 6, and then recalled that this wasn't my location of delivery. 

Starting the car again, I drove past the House. 

Before the end of the next minute, the car was parked at the gate of House 16. A sigh of relief ran out of my mouth, and I honked the car horn, waiting for the moment of delivery.