Unexpected Love

Chapter 3: Wrong File

Mario rushed into the compound like a madman. He refused to respond to the greetings of the compound neighbor, Lucky, with whom he had a chess deal.

He heads to the door and bangs, but no one answers. I stood peeping at him through the flowers that I was cutting. The flowers were tall, hiding my height to a considerable length.

In his hand was a file—the same file I submitted to him after ransacking Mr. Leo’s study.

He had a cowboy hat on and an unkempt beard, which had not been shaved for a while.

The last time he was desirous of something, I obtained a swollen eye because I objected to being used for such a demeaning assignment.

His gesture today was a nod to what happened that day. He behaved exactly the same way. I felt the same way, too.

I bit my lip, repeatedly muttering the words I would say to him.

After some time, “I'm over here" escaped from my lips.

“B!tch, this is the wrong file. You haven't even started yet,” he said, angrily folding the file and flipping it at my face.

“What! I screamed, and I checked. It is not the wrong file,” I insisted with an ocean of tears gathered in my eyes, unready to escape yet.

“It is the wrong file; now shut up,” he ordered, full of rage, drawing closer to me with his heavy timberland shoes, which he hit me with the last time.

"I..." I stammered. I forgot everything I wanted to say in fear.

“You what!” He thundered with his red eyes and alcohol stench, which made breathing unbearable.

“You wanted his business statement? There you have it.” I huffed, pointing at the file with its content scattered on the floor where he left it.

“Piece of sh*t. I didn't just want any files; I wanted one for next year." He thundered, bulging his eyes at me.

I stood still, staring at him, calculating what to say next that wouldn't flare up the already-triggered Mario.

He paced up and down, kicking a flower pot in the process.

“You did not specify this when you sent me to get the file for you,” I retorted.

“Well, baby girl, you gotta do what you know how to do best,” he said, leering at me from head to toe.

“Which is?” I asked with a glare.

“Sneaking around. You know how you sneaked around to get this file; try it again, and you will get the correct one.”

He moved closer to me, pointing to my eyes. “This whole shenanigans better not be one of those prats of yours.”

“I can't go back for another file. It is just not possible.”

“You think I care about what becomes of you if you go back? Just get me the correct file."

The doses of threatening messages I got from Mario wrecked my peace of mind.

I did not want to give my mother, who was already sick, something to worry about, so I kept this event to myself.

“Does the file have a marker? Something that would tell me it's the correct file,” I asked with feelings of depression storming over me.

“The one you brought does not have a marker, so how did you note the file?” He asked, drawing closer to me as though he wanted to give me a blow.

“Because it's clearly written on the first page, I only have to open the first page.”

“I searched every other place after that and didn't see any files. The only thing close to the fire I'm looking for is the one I brought. Are you taking it this way or looking for someone else to do the job for you?" I also have some sort of confidence to say this, but because I was clearly fed up, I drew back to avoid any impending attack. Mario is a razz and a very uncanny fellow.

He's violent, which made me want to tell my mother about what had been going on, but when I remember her condition, I draw back.

“You know what will happen if you don't give me that file?” He asked, belting his loose trousers, which had already slipped downward, exposing his dirty boxers.

“And what could that be?” I scowled at him.

He started throwing guffaws, drawing attention from the whole neighborhood. I was beckoning on him to reduce his voice, but the more I made a sign, the more his voice increased.

He paused for a while, frowned at me, and then busted out laughing again.

“Nothing will happen; I just dare you not to bring the file as needed."

I turned around to pick up my shares when he suddenly changed countenance.

“I can help you with the flowers; maybe the time I use in cutting them will be used by you to devise a plan and means to secure the file for the both of us,” he requested, stretching out his hand for my shares, which I drew back.

“Don't add me to your stupid plans. You are securing the file for your selfish reasons. It has nothing to do with me,” I thundered, drawing backwards.

“But were you thinking I'd do all that for free? Chicken brain, you believed,” he mocked.

“You know you had a chess deal with Lucky. You can't go a day without betting, and you always lose out. Well, he's waiting for you on that corridor,” I said stylishly, pointing at him in the corridor to prevent him from noticing.

He had stood there listening to our back and forth for a while, which was beginning to make me very uncomfortable. I had to look for ways to make Mario go to him so he would actually leave me alone.

“Hey, lucky, how are you going?” He shouted from where I was.

I packed up my gardening tools and headed for the house before he drew back and started another conversation, which I needed more time to participate in actively.