Moon night at Springfield

Author's POV "It's been about a week or so after the mysterious deaths of my parents, leaving me as an orphan. The packs had come hunting me down just after my parents' siblings came after all the funds my parents had generated before their demise. I had a rough guess that part of the funds were my college fees. "My disheartening uncles and aunties came after everything, ranging from the cash at my parents' bank, the cars, household items, and whatever else they deemed necessary to them. They never cared about how I was going to survive without a job or parents to rely on, not to talk of how I was faring psychologically or physically. "After the burial rites were done, the bills were piling up and I had to survive on my daily meals with the money I got from being a cab driver. But I wasn't going to give it all up. My parents had a private savings account which had been entrusted into my care after I got admission into college. Well, I guess my dubious relations weren't aware of that either, for God knows what would have become of my fate. "I have three months until resumption and exactly three months to vacate the apartment or put up with the huge bills. I opt for the former since I will be moving to college in Pennsylvania, and I guess that will be when I say my goodbyes to California and my home where I had the best memories of my childhood down to my teenage life and now my adulthood." I was just taking a turn down the road home, having gotten exhausted from today's expeditions, when an old couple flagged me down. It won't hurt to have a closing sale on the credit side. "Taxi," I heard. "What's a young man doing in this unholy hour? Is someone's girlfriend pregnant and he needs funds for maternity care?" the old woman asked. "No ma'am," I replied humbly. "I'm sorry for that, young man. Could you please take us to the couples' movie night theater three blocks away?" the old man asked. "Yeah, sure. Hop in the car, Mister," I replied. Shutting the door after him, we were good to go, chap. I calculated the time it would take to get to the theater with the looming traffic of California. I would be spending the next 40 minutes in traffic. "So young chap, not like I meant to intrude, but when I was your age, I would spend most of my nights clubbing with putas at Puerto Rico. But here you are, driving a taxi for money," the old man said. "Well, we all have our own views on how to live our various lives, but life throws us different chapters with another plot either tragic or harmonious, and we are left with no other option but to accept it," I replied. "Wow, such a nice piece you got, cutie," his wife said. "Veronica, can you let the young guy be for once?" Venice said. "Yeah, fine. I won't say a word when the men are discussing, and I hope the man doesn't cuddle me tonight," she replied. We all burst into echoing laughter before Venice apologized to his wife. I got to know his name was Venice from Italy, and he met Veronica at a beach party of a friend in Barcelona, where they were struck with love at first sight. After getting to know each other and telling them about how I lost my parents, becoming an orphan, they felt pity for me, which was what I never wanted. I'd always known that I would be strong for myself, not wanting to be pitied. Before dropping them off at the theater, we'd exchange contacts, addresses, and he gave me his card, telling me to call him by the weekend so we could hang out, because he wanted us to talk like men. I was quite surprised when Veronica gave in to his request, promising to let us have our time if only a massage session would be paid for her while we were at it, to which Venice agreed. Having dropped them, they gave me two hundred bucks and told me to keep the change to myself. I was really excited, for I was also trying to save for my relocation, materials needed while at college, and other stuff. I headed home to meet it the same way I'd left it, not like I'd expected it to change or something. I shut the door after me, flopping on the couch, trying to catch up to the evening headlines before gaining enough energy and heading upstairs to have a shower before going to bed, since I'm going to be having a busy day tomorrow, which is Monday. I had just gotten out of the toilet with the towel still wrapped around my waist, trying to get my briefs from my wardrobe, when I heard a notification sound on my phone. It's been a while; I had to check my phone. I hardly got any notifications after the funeral was done, aside from consoling messages from my parents' colleagues at work and the ones from my parents' lawyer. I picked up my mobile from my bed where I'd left it earlier on before going into the washroom. Surprisingly, the message was from an unknown number. "Have a pleasant night's rest" was what I read. Looking at it twice for confirmation, calling the number, it was a feminine voice with stuttering laughter, and then it occurred to me that it was Veronica messing with my head. "Don't sneak messages on strangers next time and stop being a pervert," because the send button knew my phone knew I know Veronica wasn't going to bed, not until she retaliated. Picking up my body lotion and hair dryer, I did the needful before going through our family picture album with tears streaming down my cheeks as all the memories came flooding back, hitting me hard. But I knew I had to be strong for myself, so I wiped my tears and picked up the album. Walking to my parents' room, I made a vow not to shed any tears henceforth, but rather to become the strong man my parents would have wanted me to be.