John Death by Richard Shekari (electric book reader .TXT) 📕

“Ah! He finally made it!” Joked the Director who stood in front of a giant painting, “Come,” he took a sip of water from a glass, “I want you to meet someone special!”

John walked and stood not far from the Director, “Is this?” staring at the big beautiful painting of an older looking woman.

“Yeah,” said the Director, “Diane’s mother!” he smiled at the painting as he picked his reading glasses from the small artefact table below the painting, wore it and looked at the painting with such deep affection, then sighed, “Martha passed away when Diane was just a little girl,” he said, “Her exit from this world totally changed me! Oh! Martha, what a woman! She had a heart that’s far much bigger than the world!”

John smiled and tried to act sympathetic.

“Her heart was too good and too heavy the world could not carry it,” added the Director, “The world is not a playground for good people, John! I learnt that the hard way!”

“I’m sorry for your great loss, sir!” said John.

“Ah! Nothing to be sorry for, son!” he said, “I used to be like you when I was young, you know; so full of energy, trying to channel it in order to make the world a better place and all. Not until the day God took her away from me! Now, Diane is all I’ve got, she’s the only good thing left in my life, son!”

John was speechless.

“I grew up poor,” said the Director, “My dad wasn’t really the go getter type. Just a peasant, and my mother? She died of cancer,” he pursed, “We were so wretched my father couldn’t look me in the eye after mother passed away. But you know, sometimes no matter how hard life hits you, if you stay strong and stand tall on your own two feet, life will quit the fight and give you a break, and that’s when I met Martha while working the field one sunny day. The bus she took broke down near the fields and while the driver was trying to have it fixed, she came to me asking for water to drink.” he smiled, “When I first saw her, she knew if anybody was to ask me my name I wouldn’t be able to remember it,” he wiped the tears from his eyes as he manage to suck his pride in, “She never cared about my background. Even when I proposed to her three years later, knowing full well I was still struggling, she said yes!” he smiled, “Well, she uh, jumped into the wagon and we continued the struggle and start a new life together!”

“I really don’t know what to say at this moment, sir” said John.

“I am a man of many adversaries, son!” he said, “And for men like me, everyday gotta be treated as the last day, you know! Men of many foes have got only two problems; the clock’s always ticking, and you can’t trust anybody!” he sighed, “You can call me a paranoid old punk but when you’re in line of my type of business, you’d watch your back even against your own shadow!”

John looked at the Director and then set his eyes on the painting again, “She’s beautiful.”

“Come over here, son,” said the Director, “Let me show you something!” he removed his reading glasses and placed it back on the small table along with the glass of water he was holding then walked towards a large glass window.

John walked along and stopped right behind him.

“How would you like to look after something precious for the old man?” asked the Director, referring to Diane who was playing with a puppy outside the mansion.

“I um, you mean?”

“Yeah, my daughter!” he responded, “I have a feeling the tectonic plates beneath my feet are going to shift a bit from the way things are going and to be sincere, son, I know this may sound rather odd but, you are the only one I can trust for now!” as he turned and looked straight into John’s eyes, “Can you do that for me?” putting his hands in his pockets.

John sighed, looked at Diane and the puppy, “Sure, sir! Anything for you!”

“I can see you two have already acquainted yourselves, so I don’t think she’ll be a headache to you in any way,” said the Director as he turned and faced the lake smiling, “Your work starts right now, son!”

Friday, 25th July

“You seem to be fond of red ties,” Diane said as she chewed a bubble gum, “Where did you get a name like that?”

“It’s a long story,” John replied, as he observed some of the statues in the garden where they walked adjacent to the lake.

“I am a girl, I love long stories!” she said as she seductively smiled and flaunt her body walking in front of him, in her peach dress, “You don’t seem to talk much, not like the first day!”

“Well, I didn’t know I’ll be tasked to look after you!” he replied.

“Protect me, you mean?” she said, smiling, “I think daddy’s plan is way beyond that!”

“He cares about you?” he said.

“Tell me about you, John!” she said.

“Hmm! What would you like to know?” he asked.

“I would love to know everything,” she turned and stood right in front of him, “Tell me, John! Tell me anything,” wetting her lips.

He opened his mouth to talk but stammered as he set his eyes on her peached-moist lips, “I don’t think this is the right place for that, I mean, right time-for uh…”

“Let’s go to your place then!” she said.

“What?” he responded.

“You heard me, John!” she said, “Don’t worry about nothing, the big old lion seems to like you. Baby, you don’t have any problem!” wrapping her arms around his neck, “I think you can get away with almost anything. Besides, I won’t tell on you!”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” he said in a weak tone.

“My father hired you to protect me, right?” she asked.

“That’s right!” said John.

“If you want to keep your job and his trust then I say we do as I want, yeah?” she added, “I suggest you do whatever it takes to keep your job, John. Because the last time some clown didn’t let me have my way, daddy made sure he never lived to see the sunrise!”

“That’s a joke I presumed,” he said, “Tell me about it!”

“I’m an independent gal. But this sweet guy walked to me one night at the club, he told me he liked me. I kind of liked him too cause he looked a bit different compared to the other guys in my life, you know. Well, I told him if he really wants to go down he needs to understand that I’m a free gal, he said he didn’t care,” she bragged, “So, we started seeing each other and he kept sending me flowers, telling me he wanna marry me and all. Well, we dated for a couple of months and I began to fall for him, then on the day he proposed to me, we went clubbing that night and he caught me in the bathroom making out with the club owner, and he just…Lost control. I told him to calm down, but he wouldn’t listen so I slapped him like the dog that he was,” she puffed and popped the bubble gum, “He broke up with me right there in the club, could you believe that? How could he do that to me?”

“That’s all?” John inquired.

“No,” she replied, “I came back home that night crying, tore my dress and lied to daddy that he beat me up. So, daddy had him taken care of!”

John gently pushed her hands off his shoulders and grabbed her by the neck looking straight into her once beautiful yet innocent blue eyes, he watched her struggle for life as her pupils dilated. Diane tried to kick him on the groins but missed, she tried hard to loosen her tender neck from his grip as the muscles around her neck began to swell up. As he squeezed her throat from her last dying breath, he knew she had not only lost the last ounce of breath but the last ounce of purity in his eyes. John frightfully stared at the dying Diane as her neck snapped in his grasp.

One of the maids witnessed what happened, she screamed and was so frightened she could not move, her voice drew the attention of some of the guards.

John flung Diane’s body off, as her corpse landed on the lawn, he stood there and took a deep breath then started to walk towards the mansion. Three of the guards approached him not knowing what went down, John pulled out two pistols and fired at them without missing a shot, sending them to their knees as he walked pass the terrified maid.

John got into the mansion killing all the guards that came up against him, including a shocking Idris who hid behind a small bar in the pool room. He walked upstairs crashing the door to the Director’s bedroom.

“Podius Podrufio!” he shouted, “Time to go!”

“What…What happened, son?” said the scared old man as he managed to come out of the bathroom, where he was hiding, “Where’s Diane? Is she safe? I heard gun shots, son. I heard gun shots. Is my baby okay?”

“She’s dead, Podius,” said John, “Diane is dead, just like Martha. You may probably have to call the artist again!”

“What?” said the Director, “I don’t understand?”

John walked to him and seized him by the neck, and began hitting him. He pulled the Director out of the bedroom and kicked him.

“Son, what’s this all about?” asked the scared Director, “Did anybody make you an offer to do this?”

John shot the last guard that made it through the door as he pushed the Director down the stairs, then looked back to see the Director struggling to stand on his feet, he fired two shots at his legs and slapped the director with his pistol on reaching him, the old man went straight to the floor like a dry leaf from a dead tree. He then grabbed the Director by the collar and dragged him into the room where the big painting of Martha hung.

John walked to the painting, stared at it for a few seconds, spat on it then pulled out a lighter from his pocket and set the painting ablaze.

“What have you done?” cried the Director, “What are you doing? Oh, Martha!”

“Nothing, Podius, nothing!” John replied.

“Who are you?” the Director asked faintly, “Who do you work for?”

“On this job?” responded John, “Let’s just say it’s a token of my favour returned, Podius!” as he walked to the Director, he pulled out a photo and flung it at the Director’s chest “Do you recognise the person in that photograph?”

“I can’t freaking see without my glasses!” the Director cried, “Oh Diane! What have you done, son? Whatever the feud, why didn’t you just kill me at the office and settle it there?”

“It’s gotta to be the heart, Podius” John replied, “It’s gotta be where it’ll hurt you the most, old man!”

John looked around and saw one of the Director’s reading glasses on the artefact table below the burning painting. He