THE RIDE TO THE UNKNOWN
1131 Words
The car door clicked shut with a sound that made my heart beat fast. The smell inside was heavenly, and somewhat manly. The interior speaks quite luxury, as expected of a man like Mr Jenkins.
Everything felt surreal. One minute I was an orphan waiting for freedom in two months' time, and the next minute, I'm being driven in a luxurious car by a man I barely knew to a new place.
Who knew my freedom would come earlier than expected? Or this shouldn't be celebrated as freedom yet?
My gaze drifted to the man behind the wheels. Mr Jenkins, I called in my mind for the second time. A man of his caliber is expected to have servants at his call. An assistant, housekeeper, maids, bodyguards and even a driver but the few times I had seen him, he was always driving himself.
Maybe he just enjoys driving.
I studied him from where I was sitted. His hair, jet black, fine black suit, slender fingers holding the wheel firmly and a stoic face, expression unreadable.
“So,” I finally said something to clear the silence in the car “do you always do this? I mean sponsoring orphans or maybe girls” I said that last part a bit slower but I'm sure he heard me.
His lip twitched slightly, eyes drifted to me briefly from the rear mirror before returning them back to the highway we are now playing.
“No”.
Just that and silence again.
“Then, why me?” I spoke again. I wasn't too comfortable with the silence.
“You stood out,” he replied casually, too smooth to believe “bold, sharp and unafraid.”
“And that's it?” I was expecting more.
“Yes”
“I don't believe”
“You don't have to. It's good you at least asked.” he answered.
I wasn't satisfied, but I kept quiet. At least, to arrange my thoughts.
My eyes watched the city as it passed in a blur, big houses that the owners probably haven't visited in months, luxurious vehicles scattered across the roads moving smoothly with no care, the bustling that differs from the usual orphanage serenity. Everything is indeed different.
“Mr Jenkins,” I called out to him.
“Caelan”, he cut me off, “Just call me Caelan”
Even though I wanted to protest, I just gave him a nod. “Are you always alone or do you just enjoy driving?” I asked the one question that has been troubling my mind.
“I never had a driver.” He seemed to understand what I meant after all.
Silence.
“What about your family?” I just couldn't stop my mouth from running “Do they live in the City?”
Even though I haven't heard much about the Jenkins, I overheard one of the sisters at Saint Evelyn's telling another one how wealthy and generous the Jenkins are. It looks like they were always doing their charity thing.
His posture shifted slightly, “Only my mother does”.
“And the other members?” I queried again.
“That shouldn't concern you.” He dismissed me off.
He wasn't just avoiding my questions, he was building a barrier around himself.
“You don't talk much, especially about yourself. Do you?”. I tried to sound casual again though my heart was racing a little.
“Not to strangers.”
Ouch. That hurts more than I thought.
The air in the car grew colder, heavier.
“Okay,” I said, trying to laugh it off. “Point taken.”
But a quiet voice inside me wasn’t ready to keep quiet.
“I just want to understand what I’m walking into,” I whispered quietly, honestly. “This feels kinda strange.”
He was quiet for a while before speaking, but his tone softened slightly. “I understand.”
I bit my lip. “Can I ask something personal?”
“You can ask.”
“Will you answer?” I anticipated his answer again.
He glanced at me through the rear mirror again, and for a flicker of a moment, something softened flashed behind his eyes. But then it vanished, shuttered again like it never existed.
“No.”
I laughed a little, but it sounded hollow. “You’re impossible.”
“Trust me, I’ve been called worse.”
Finally, the car pulled up to a sleek, towering building. It shimmered under the city lights like obsidian glass.
He stepped out of the car and I saw that as a cue for me to also do the same.
The wind bit at my cheeks as I stepped onto the pavement, but I hardly noticed. My attention was on the structure ahead, cold, beautiful, and distant. Simple, yet magnificent. Elegant.
He didn’t say a word as we entered the elevator. The quiet thrum of the lift and the soft metallic hum made me feel smaller somehow.
I turned to him again. “Are you always like this?”
“Like what?”
“Controlled. Distant.”
He gave me a sidelong glance. “Is that how you see me?”
I thought for a while, then I nodded. “A little.”
“Good.” He gave a word answer again.
The elevator dinged. We stepped into his penthouse, and I stopped short. The place had breathtaking expansive glass walls overlooking the city skyline, the interior all minimalist design, clean lines, and muted tones.
But despite its elegance, it felt empty. Like a lot were missing.
I stepped forward slowly, the hush of the place almost sacred.
“Do you live here alone?” I asked.
“Yes but I do have a house help who doesn't live in. She comes three times every week”. He informed me.
“Must be quiet. I mean staying here all alone.”
“I like quiet.”
I turned to face him. “You know, you could make this easier.”
“How?”
“By telling me something real. Anything.”
He didn’t move. Just stared at me for a long, silent moment before saying, “There’s a room prepared for you. Third door on the right. Dinner will be in an hour.”
And then he turned and walked away.
Just like that, without any other word.
I watched his back retreat into the silence, frustration simmering in my chest.
Fine, I thought. Keep your secrets which I keep mine too.
And I wasn’t planning to stay quiet forever.
My hands found the silver chain Sister Nadia had placed in my hands earlier.
My mother's chain…
“I'll l surely find your murderers,” I whispered into the thin air
- Writer
