Magic Ball: the Billionaire in Ranch

10 Be a billionare!

The visit to his hometown was, indeed, a pleasant experience as Noah has deemed it to be. It’s the sense of feeling at home in your own home when you’re just lying peacefully on the soft couch and spending the weekend like a potato. You have nothing to think about. No quarterly sales report that left you wondering if you have incorporated all the necessary details in five pages. No pondering if your funds are enough in paying your rent. No restless Sunday with checking your fridge and finding nothing, only to run fast to the groceries and wreck your brains on what you should buy in a tight budget. No leaning on the railings of your balcony as you wait for your laundry to dry so that you can start preparing what clothes to wear on a dreadful Monday morning.

It’s like Noah is back to being in high school, except that he is not as diligent as he used to be, but he liked his current state better. He’s delighted, relaxed, and at ease.

The Magic Ball was resting on the table beside his old bed. He abruptly visited his dogs last night like a parent worrying if their children had eaten already. His instincts are always bull’s eye because Ginger was howling when he arrived in the Magic Ball. He read somewhere on the internet that it meant they were lonely and missed their owner. Noah assumed it to be like that since Ginger practically threw herself at him when he ran to them with chicken and meat. Noah had this guilt growing over his heart whenever he couldn’t feed his dogs on time.

Leaning his head on the soft pillow he borrowed from Elijah’s room, he recalled the conversation he had with his family when he arrived yesterday.

His father looked at him in utter disbelief—Noah couldn’t decide if he was disappointed, confused, or just plain angry at what his son had done.

He shrugged it off.

It’s not like he was involved in a crime or that he’s doing the illegal stuff his parents fret about occasionally.

Noah didn’t blame him for thinking that way. He, too, was somewhat secretive and private about his life after leaving home.

For years, his father had always wanted him to be a professional—not that he isn’t one already, but he has a different definition of the word professional. He craves to brag a son that achieved a professional license. Albeit, Noah thinks he sees these experts like doctors, lawyers, and the likes.

He cringed as he imagined himself as one. Not that they are worthy of Noah’s unsettling feeling about them, but rather, his life would have been much more miserable if he succumbed to his father’s wishes.

Stuck in school with stacks of book piling more each day. Grilling his mind on a lot of sensitive things. Familiarizing himself with law and order, getting his way through anatomy and physiology—these are various scenarios he thought of when he filed his university applications. He, in fact, loathe studying. He was in the middle of being athletic and brainy. He joined the football team at one point, and at the same time, he was tasked to compete in a Physics Quiz Bee. By the time he finished high school, he was fed up with everything. He felt suffocated in every aspect of his life. He couldn’t choose between the choices offered in a silver platter. In the end, he chose a path that separates him from his father’s dreams and aligning one with what he had always sought: the freedom to decide for himself.

He rolled on the other side of the sofa and heard his mother humming in the kitchen. Noah always admired her mother’s patience with her stubborn father. He can’t imagine how she winds up choosing him out of all the suitors his grandmother bragged about when they talked about how admired her mother is.

She had wrinkles on her forehead, a crow’s feet on the corner of her eyes, yet Noah finds her vibrant as daisies and roses to this day. She was always calm about resolving each and one of her children’s concerns. She was the cheerleader Noah cringed when he played football and the coach when he fought for a quiz bee in Physics. A faint, yet valuable memory of her placing a hand on his forehead when he was burning with fever was his favorite. His mother’s touch was ice and peace on his skin, like a wind that calmed the seas and removed the dark clouds in the sky.

Noah’s father was the exact opposite of her mother: he was the dark cloud, the storm, the critique, the teacher that expected more—he loved them both equally and was thankful that Mary and Elijah were warm towards him.

Mary once said that Noah was a big brother she was proud of and bragged about in school. Elijah insisted Noah was someone he looked up to, his confidant in everything.

Well, in terms of appearance, Noah won the lottery for inheritance. His mother had the palest blond he has ever seen. Noah’s hair was a carbon copy of his father’s, a dark brown with caramel streaks. Mary was the one who inherited their mother’s, while Elijah stood in the middle; blond and caramel streaks all over his head.

On a Friday afternoon, Noah was busy throwing away the trash, when his cellphone suddenly vibrated inside his jean pocket. He took it out and saw the caller ID to be Michael’s. His heart leaps out of his throat that he almost stumbled to the ground. He let go of the trash bag and immediately slide his thumb to the answer button.

“Good day, Michael,” he greeted formally to not sound agitated about his news.

I’m sure you already have a hunch as to why I called.

“Tell me about it,” Noah said before chuckling nervously.

How’s your citizenship going on, by the way?

“Already applied last week. It would take me months before I can get it. There are tests, interviews, and more interviews. The list goes on, and it would probably drag for about half a year or so.”

That’s how it works, Michael confirmed, you most definitely can get that.

“I appreciate the assurance. How’s the auction going?”

He heard Michael sigh, a bunch of voices screeching in the background.

Sorry about that. My team’s a little too excited about the news. They’re squirming behind me like children—stop it, Steph!

Noah heard a woman chuckling behind Michael, and it’s definitely Stephanie.

“It’s fine. Take your time.” Noah said as he took long strides inside the house. He spotted the sofa and lay on his back like an old man.

Okay. Now that I have kicked them out of the room—

Michael sucked in a breath as Noah anticipated the next words to come out of his mouth.

Congratulations, man! The raw happiness in his voice was felt by Noah in an instant. He sounded too happy to resist the smile that spread on Noah’s face, a dimple lining his cheeks.

We practically sold two of your paintings for one hundred fifty million US dollars!

It’s like the wind knocked him out cold. The thumping of his heart reached his ears. His palms begin to sweat as his soul leaped out of his body and into the sky.

Now that he’s had enough money to last a lifetime, what would be the next significant step that he should take? Should he think of a business that can help him make a profit out of the Magic Ball? Noah thought of Brice and how he told him about thinking of owning a business—he had this sense of responsibility of sharing some of his profit to Brice. Then, he thought of his family.

His eyes roamed around the house—he’d have this place renovated in no time. His mother would be thrilled to have a bigger lawn for her flowers. As for his dad, he didn’t need to have a son with a professional license. He would be prouder to have a son as a millionaire.

“I can’t believe this,” he was out of words. He ran his fingers through his hair, “You sold it for that kind of amount?” disbelief in his voice.

Yes, Noah. This is happening. I’m arranging the check already. You need to go back here as soon as you can. And don’t forget to fix your American citizenship to cope with the taxes. Noah thanked him from the bottom of his heart and hanged up.

“What’s up?” Mary arrived from work. She was removing her shoes and stretching her arms up in the air. “Bro, you’re grinning like it’s the end of the world. Did something good happened?”

“Probably,” he answered vaguely. He didn’t want anyone knowing yet the good news that went his way. The gods must have really blessed him.

“Anyway, I have to return by Sunday night. Shall I take you all out for dinner?”

Like glittering orbs, Mary’s grey eyes lit up like diamonds, “Oh, I would love that. Let’s think of Barns and Burgers.”

“Something fancier, please,” Noah insisted.

Mary placed both of her hands on her hips, “Wait. You have never been a fan of fancy restaurants. What’s the deal? Are you getting engaged?”

Noah turned around and faced the TV, “What? I thought you liked fancy places?”

“I do,” Mary said with speculation, “I’m just new to the fact that you’re choosing a fancy restaurant over Barns and Burgers.”

“Don’t get me wrong. There’s nothing special about the dinner. I want to treat you all nicely because I’ll be heading back in a faraway place again.”

He saw Mary’s face at the corner of his eyes and said, “by the way, can you give me your online bank account number?”

“If you’re planning on stealing from me, that’s the part that you should be concerned about. I have zero savings.” Mary scooped a handful of hair and twisted them into a small bun atop her head.

Noah laughed, “No, you i***t. Trust me on this, will you?”

Mary sighed, “Since when did I distrust you, dear brother?”

“When I stole your favorite chocolate?” Noah pretends he’s thinking.

Color rush to Mary’s face, “I was four, you were seven. It felt like the whole world betrayed me for a piece of chocolate.” She began walking up the stairs. When she reached the second floor, Mary shouted, “I’ll send you the numbers after I shower.”

“Tell Elijah to give me his bank account too,”

“Right-o, captain!” Mary yelled in front of her room.

The Martin family had the best meal they have ever had in a while. They were dressed up like they were about to attend an inauguration or a ceremony that would declare them as heroes of this world.

Noah’s father had a surprised expression on his face. He looked starving when the elegant waiter placed the delicious, smelling dish of lobster and oyster in front of him. Noah’s mother’s eyes moistened like she was about to cry.

“This would certainly empty your savings,” his father commented grimly, “It’s not too late to go to Barns and Burgers. A cheeseburger practically costs around three dollars there. You will be full by the time you have devoured their entire meal.”

Noah gestured on the steaming lobster in front of him, “Have some lobster, dad. I’m not getting bankrupt, and I most certainly am not driving back to Barns and Burgers.”

“This is the luxury that I deserve,” said Mary when she tasted her medium-rare steak. “How come it’s melting in your mouth?”

“I think I’m going to die,” Elijah claimed as he tasted the gold-truffle pasta the chef recommended to them.

That night, Michael sent him all the money he has earned from the auction. An hour before he left his house, Noah left one million dollars each in his family’s bank accounts.