Twisted Times: Son of Man (Twisted Times Trilogy Book 1)
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Authors: Vincent de Paul
TWISTED TIMES
Son of Man
Novel
VINCENT DE PAUL
Mystery Books
This novel is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, personalities, real locales, organizations and institutions are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places and incidents are product of the author’s imagination; and any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, institutions, or persons living or dead is entirely coincidental and not intended by the author.
Copyright ©Vincent de Paul, 2015. The right by Vincent de Paul to be identified as the author has been asserted in accordance with the international copyright laws.
All rights reserved.
Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is strictly forbidden without written permission from the publisher or the author.
ISBN-13: 978-1516829798
ISBN-10: 1516829794
Cover design by Patrick Boro
Published by:
Mystery Books
, an Imprint of
Mystery Publishers
For
Pauline Joseph
Arrogance and self-awareness seldom walk hand in hand.
Past:
The hospital was a cacophony of doctors issuing orders, nurses stomping around frantically responding to the doctors’ orders and the wails of other patients, women.
Searing and excruciating pain shot through Shannon. She had never felt like this before. She fought back tears and tried hard not to scream. She wanted to hit everybody near her.
Never again will I do this again…
“Push!” It was the command of a matronly-looking woman,
a nurse,
or whatever they called them. Had she to be so rude? Couldn’t she see she was hurting, that she could not do anything anymore, and that she was still a kid? Shannon’s memory was a haze of pain and incoherent commands.
“Push harder!”
Shannon tried. Death was knocking somewhere. She was sure she had heard death’s knell.
A haze of pain and inaudible orders engulfed her, and the last thing she remembered was the frail cry of a child and her saying something she did not hear herself say before everything around her went black.
“Where am I?” she asked rather ineptly when she came to.
What are these…
then the events started unfolding. She was not in her room, not on her bed. She was somewhere else. The place was acrid and caustic. The smell was familiar.
I am in a hospital… what happened to me?
18 years later;
“Come in,” I said noncommittally.
Mother entered the room cautiously and… “Well, how did it go?” she asked me in an attempt to sound light-hearted. I could tell that she had a lot to tell me, but I was not about to listen to her. Not this time round.
She understood me. She knew I was as stubborn as though I was descended from Pharaoh. I knew she always prayed I would change, for better, but it never happened.
“He told me his plans for the umpteenth time,” I said heavily. “It made no difference to me,” I paused as if for effect. “He is still as rigid as ever – he’ll never change. Nevertheless, I will show him I have a mind of my own! I swear I will,” I finished savagely.
“Yes, but…”
“No buts, Mom. Sometimes I wish I was never near this hell of a home you found for us.”
I saw her flinch, and I knew I had said the wrong thing. I had to be careful. Mother was always composed. She never allowed emotions to get the better of her.
“We all understand but…”
“Mom, why don’t you say you understand?” I interjected. “Time and again Dad has interfered with my plans and you say ‘we’, but this time round he’s mistaken.”
“You should be careful son, he’s your father.”
That stung me. I wanted to yell at her that he was not my father but something held me back.
What empty words you are telling me? You well know
that he’s
not my father.
“Mother, enough of this. I just want to be left alone. If he’ll disown me for getting my way, then let it be. I will not bend to his side this time round,” I spoke with such finality that I saw Mom startled.
“Your father cares for your happiness more than you think. He wants you happy.”
Her hand was on the door knob and its movement was nervous.
“He is calling you now!” she told me. Her voice was almost frightening as she said in a hoarse whisper, “He wants to talk to you.”
She turned to go, but then halted for some time. As though she was robotic she turned to me and said, “A father’s curse is crippling, be careful.” And with that, she turned to go.
I did not even want to see him.
But long after she was gone did something tell me to follow her.
“Come on in, Ken. What a man you’ve become! We were just talking about you.” It was my uncle, Job, who said this when I appeared at the entrance of the main house. I had known that he was around when I saw his Land Cruiser Prado outside.
I went to him and shook his hand cautiously.
“Have a seat, Ken.”
I took the seat next to
dad.
I felt like I was going to suffocate, and I silently prayed they chitchat for the whole day and say nothing to me. Uncle Job did not waste time, though.
“Ken,” he began. I sat myself up pretentiously but remained unruffled. I was thinking of how I was going to face them.
“Sir!” I answered courteously, feigning obedience and respect.
“I am about to give you something that you will never forget. I would like you to have all the best in this life. You either take it or not.” He paused to take a sip of his tea before continuing. “I have talked this over with your father, and what I am getting is nasty bullshit that you want to go to the university. Why are you so naïve? Never ever turn down a lucrative offer. You never know which one might be your dream and you let go.”
“In fact, if I had a chance like this at your age I would be a billionaire today. Do not break your uncle’s heart by…” it was my father.
I was not ready for their small talk, and just for whatever God knows sake, I waited for them to finish whatever they were saying to me. Theirs were just empty words because my mind was already made up.
When Uncle Job was done, I was almost convinced: monies in abundance, trips to any country in the world, connections with people who mattered, and the path to all the luxury in the world besides being a kind of puppet master joining the club of those who think they make the world go round. Very tempting.
All I knew was that all well-to-do businessmen we see around were not real, they were not the make believes they seemed to be. They were dirty and they left dirty trails behind them through kickbacks, organized crime, corruption, and cults behind their success
.
Despite the temptation to accept Uncle Job’s offer I felt that I needed to stand my ground.
Just say it,
the rogue inner me prodded.
“I don’t want your offer,” I said rather virulently. “I am not going to work for you.” I was about to say that I already knew where he had gotten his wealth from after his wife robbed him of everything and fled to another country with her lover, whom she had been cheating on him with, but something held my tongue. “I want to study first…”
Uncle Job and Dad exchanged looks and well… they were stunned. Whatever they were thinking I couldn’t know, but I guessed they thought I was more stupid than they thought.
“I will go to university. I am sorry to say that I am not interested and not ready to take a job now…”
“Ken!”
I had to leave there and then because I could see what was coming next. I rose from my seat and walked past them and went to the outhouse. I overheard my father saying, “Just leave it to me, he will come around…”
I wanted to storm back to the house and tell them to their face that I was not going to think otherwise, but I decided otherwise.
I went to my room and lay supine on the bed. I had nowhere else to run to. The minute Uncle Job left, Father stormed into the room.