Chapter 23 23.Discretionary Funds!
Emilo’s POV
Pastor Nicolas was delighted with the plan I presented him. "You have a shrewd mind for stewardship, my boy," he praised, his eyes full of gratitude for my supposed diligence. With unwavering dedication, he set aside the agreed-upon sum each month, placing his full trust in me to meticulously record every false transaction in the ledger. I was not just a servant; I was the architect of the very trap I was about to spring..
With great attention to detail, I found myself diligently maintaining two sets of books. They were identical in appearance, but their contents told vastly different stories. In addition to this secret task, I continued to manage the legitimate funds for the church. This dual role was a constant battle against my own temptations, but I persevered, knowing the ultimate outcome would make the struggle worthwhile.
My apparent self-discipline left a profound impression on Pastor Nicolas, solidifying his trust in me. He never knew about the intricate financial maneuvers I orchestrated behind the scenes. My patience was unwavering as I eagerly awaited the right moment. I finally decided to act on the day of my nineteenth birthday. My dedication was about to unfold, and I was ready to embrace the opportunity.
My personal belongings were sparse, but this didn't concern me. Reginald and I shared the same clothing size, and the worn garments I frequently wore had once been his. The matter of what to do about Judith's attire, however, remained to be determined at a later time.
Normally, my departure was set for 5:00 AM, allowing me to reach Marfranc in time to board the bus. But on this specific day, I left at 3:00 AM, determined to catch the first bus. It was a strategic move to avoid recognition and any potential obstacles. My early start paid off. By 6:00 AM, I had arrived in Obak, the end of the bus route. Normally, I would undertake the remaining journey to the University on foot. But today, my path was about to diverge forever.
On this occasion, I chose a different path. I bypassed the usual bus and instead boarded a camion, a crowded open-backed truck already nearly full to capacity. Despite the cramped conditions, I squeezed myself and my belongings between the passengers. I knew little of Chameau, not even its exact location. My only requirement was that it lay in a direction away from the University, taking me far from everything I knew. I was determined to venture into the unknown, as long as it led me away from the life I was leaving behind.
When I arrived in Chameau, the sun was already high and hot. The place was tinier than any I had known. After stepping off the truck, my eyes fell on a young man, a bit younger than me, selling treats and lemonade. The journey had been shorter than my usual trips, and a sudden, sharp hunger compelled me to stop.
"How much for this?" I asked, pointing to the cassava covered with peanut butter, served with a glass of lemonade.
"Seventy-five cents," the vendor replied. His eyes were curious. "I've never seen you here before. Are you new?"
"No, I've been here before," I lied smoothly, my guard instantly rising. "But this is my first time seeing you." I wasn't sure what to make of him, and for now, I just wanted to get some food in my stomach.
"Do you live in Chameau?" he asked next.
What a nosy guy, I thought. It was a typical question, but in my state, it felt like an interrogation.
"No, I live in Briller," I said, inventing a town on the spot. "I am here to visit someone. I will be here for a couple of days." The lie had escalated, and I mentally cursed myself for revealing even false information. But the vendor seemed satisfied, and his acceptance eased my anxiety a fraction.
I found a spot next to his stall and sat to eat. The lemonade was profoundly refreshing. To my surprise, the cassava was soft and incredibly tasty. The best I'd ever had. The simple pleasure of it cut through my fear and gave me a sudden, reckless idea.
"Do you have a place to stay?" he asked, as if reading my thoughts.
"No," I said, deciding to lean into the conversation. "Do you know where I can find a room?"
"What about the person you're visiting?" he pressed, his kindness now feeling like a trap.
"I don't know them that well," I said, layering my deception. "I am just here to deliver a message."
"Feel free to stay with me until you get a place of your own," he offered.
His proposal left me deeply uncertain. Trust was a luxury I could not afford. I was a fugitive, carrying a substantial amount of the church's funds, an entire year's tuition, other items Delourde had packed for her children, and a sealed envelope for Judith whose contents were a mystery I would have to unravel later. This stranger's kindness felt as dangerous as a drawn weapon.
"Did you make this?" I inquired, changing the subject and gesturing to the cassava.
"Yeah," the vendor responded with a proud smile. "It's good, ain't it?"
"What else can you do?" I asked, my tone casual but intent.
"I don't have anything special, just a knack for selling things. I'm low on cash, so I'm starting small." He looked at me, his curiosity piqued. "Why do you want to know?"
"I've got some items that need selling. You could make some money if you help me out."
"The name's Jacob," he said, offering his hand.
"Emilio," I replied, taking it in a firm shake.
Jacob's face lit up with anticipation. "Let's see what you've brought!"
I quickly opened the bag, pulling out Judith's items first. A collection of women's clothing and personal effects spilled forth. Underwear, bras, sandals, dresses. Jacob's expression flickered with surprise, and I saw the unspoken question in his eyes. He looked at me, noticing my steady gaze.
"I didn't steal these, if that's what you're thinking," I stated flatly.
"Hehe, none of my business, my friend," he replied with a knowing shrug. "I just want to make money."
"I'm glad we're on the same page."
Once all the items were sold, a weight lifted from my shoulders. A calming sense of relief washed over me. In this newfound tranquility, I felt a flicker of generosity. I gave Jacob a new pair of trousers and a few clean shirts from the clothes I had set aside for myself. It was a simple act, but it was my honest way of showing gratitude. Later on, I bought him dinner to further thank him. We talked casually over the meal. I noticed he didn't repeat his offer for me to stay; he had picked up on how I'd skillfully sidestepped it before. He understood I preferred to keep my distance. In the end, we parted ways, both of us anticipating we would cross paths again in the coming days.