Mr. President was well seated in his swivel chair. He had handy a glass of Tom Collins as he shot a survey look at the ocean view behind his office.
Promptly, the door creaked, shoes knocked across the floor and the moment he swirled around in his swivel chair, he was churned in the stomach when he caught sight of the minister, all sweating and looking drawn and stolen.
He pulled a troubled stare at his beholder and was forced to sit up, “Are you okay, minister? Why the look on your face and why are you sweating like a Christmas ram?”
The minister tossed his head in exhaustion, sat down abruptly and gulped the glass of Tom Collins in front of him, lacking the patience to be offered one. He needed to gulp down a drink just to quell his temper for the embarrassment he faced at my company.
The president was already growing so thin over the silence of the minister. His expectant gaze gathered around the thick lips of the minister, and when his reply wasn’t forth coming he was forced to ask, “How did it go? Has Mike Don granted you the loan, Huh?”
Finally a word could leak through his trembled lips, “Not yet His Excellency. The more I want to make this easier, the harder it becomes. In fact it is obvious Mike Don doesn’t want to grant us the loan…Right now only few men can stand his audacity…””
Mr. President interposed him with a tap of his finger on the desk, “What happened? Talk to me? Did he request for my presence? What transpired between the both of you?”
The minister sank back in his chair, despair creeping in. “This rich kid called Mike Don has got stinking guts. I am happy you didn’t come along with me otherwise you would have gotten crazier than me. Mike don has changed his policy.”
“Policy?” he beamed and dragged a confused brow, “And what policy do you speak of? Does that in any way hamper us from accessing the loan?” the president stemmed, impatience in his eyes as he couldn’t wait to get full gist of what happened.
“Yes of course. His Excellency, I wonder how mogul who has been officially named the world richest man would demand for your account balance before you can see him…”
“What!”The president pulled back a bit in a moment of awe and his brow thickened as the ripples across water. Did he request to know your account balance before you could see him?”
The minister gestured at him and cupped his jaw briefly, “Exactly, his Excellency. His band of security stopped me from making entrance and demanded for my account balance which must be not less than ten million dollars otherwise I stand no chance of seeing Mike Don. Can you imagine the nonsense?”
“Ten million dollars?” Mr. President retorted and stared in the space thoughtfully before dimming his eyes at him, “Wait a minute!” he raised his hands at him, “Do you mean just showing him that your account balance has ten million and you would go in to see him?”
The minister shook his head, thinking the president was going to take sides with him, “Exactly, His Excellency. Ten million dollars! Can you imagine the rubbish? That money bag thinks every soul is as rich as he is. I won’t be surprised the day he would demand we sniff his ass before we see him…”
“So did you finally show them your account balance and access the loan?” the present’s voice bit out.
“Although it is an eerie policy yet it is not stringent…”
“His Excellency?” the minister sounded steamy with horror in his eyes, “Do you mean if I showed them the ten million dollars in my account?” he inquired yet again in a wary tone.
The president tossed his head and cocked his eyes brow at him, “Yes of course. Don’t tell me you didn’t show him your account balance?”
The minister wished he could admit it with wink, “How do you mean, His Excellency? Ten million dollars? Hell no! I don’t have such figures in my account. Ten million dollars is too much an amount to exist in my account. That rich kid is just looking for someone he would kill with high blood pressure …”
“High blood pressure, you say,” the president interrupted him and gritted his teeth, “What is ten million dollars that you don’t have in your bank account. Jupiter’s brain!” he exclaimed and shut his slimy, watery eyes in frustration, “Did you just drive down to this place to tell me you didn’t access the loan, huh?”
Infuriated, yet struggling to fight it off and pretend to His Excellency, the minister stood to his feet, “I beg your pardon, His Excellency, ten million dollars? That is too much to be in my account. I am only but a civil servant for crying out loud…”
The president snapped. “Can you just listen to your broke ass self. You are only but an honorable minister. You earn well. How much do I pay you as salary? Two hundred and fifty thousand dollars per week and, one million dollars in a month. Isn’t that enough for you to remind Mike Don you are not a broke ass?”
He tossed his head as he replied him, “I am not a broke ass. I don’t need to show him my account balance before he can be assured I am not poor. Mike Don has got crazy guts and it is high time we called him to order…”
“Can you just keep shut and think about your life. A serving minister cannot afford ten million dollars in his account. Oh my Jupiter’s brain! You are impossible! Mike Don just put it to you that you are poor.” He stroked his hair confusedly and added, “How much is in your damn account then?”
He swallowed hard, bit his lower lip and hesitated, “You see, my account balance is not encouraging. I am a family man. I got mortgage to pay, got five children , a cousin, my wife and my granny to take care of…”
“How much? You talk too much!” the president yelled at him…
“Fif…” he stuttered, breathed hard and added yet again, “Fifty thousand dollars.”
“Holy Mary!” the president exclaimed gaping at him.
A shocker loomed on…