Mr James saga

Jackson slowly sat on the wooden stool beside his father as he watched him dip his hand into his right pocket, bringing out a few crumpled bills and dropping them into the palm of the wretched man that comes every evening to beg for money. He didn’t understand why his father would always give his hard earned money to someone who doesn’t have any deformities. His eyes followed every single movement of the man as he bowed his head, sang a word of prayer, and walked away as usual.

Curiosity filled his face as dozens of questions ran through his mind. After hesitating for a while, he decided to ask his father why the man would not work to earn money, and also why his father wouldn’t stop giving him money every single time he shows up, knowing how disciplined his father is and how his father prefers people earning rightfully whatever they get.

Turning his head towards Jackson with a faint trace of a smile at the corner of his mouth, his father gently placed his left hand on Jackson’s right shoulder, gripping him a little bit firm and then loosely. My son, he paused for a moment as if he was gathering memories from the past. He took a deep breath and continued. Things weren’t always like this for him. Mr. James was brought up with a silver spoon. His parents were the richest in the city while they were alive. They were not only rich, they were also generous. They gave the needy, sent the homeless to gain education, and many more.

While I was younger and my parents who were your grandparents had financial issues, I really can’t remember how many times they ran to James’ father for help and each time they did, they always returned with smiles on their faces. So, all that I am doing is repaying his parents’ good with good.

Jackson listened attentively with his little mind processing his father’s words, but the more he thought about it, the more confusing his thoughts became. Changing his sitting position and scratching his neck. If the man’s parents were so rich to the extent that people came to them for help, how did he end up having nothing but torn clothes and slippers? Jackson became a little more restless as he continued to think about it. He imagined wealth to be a river that never runs dry. He looked straight at his father’s face, wanting to ask a question but thought for a while, as if he was trying to completely construct the perfect question before letting it out.

Just as if his father knew what was going on in his mind, he smiled, but his face immediately turned back as if he had just not smiled. You see, Jackson, a man should always understand that there is time for everything. Mr. James on the other hand never had to lift a finger for anything. He had everything he needed before he could think of them. But instead of making use of the opportunities he had to strive for more personal success, he started to party around with unserious friends who were with him because of the benefits they got.

The expression on Jackson’s face changed. He had started to connect the dots but still curious to know how things changed so badly. His father gave a deep breath, as he slightly shakes his head and folding his arms across his chest and under his armpits.

His parents would always fight him for living a wayward life, but he wouldn’t listen. Why would he have to live by a certain rule when he is well aware that his parents care and provide for people who are not even blood relatives? Why couldn’t he spend to enjoy rather than giving? His parents wouldn’t stop giving, so why not enjoy it anyway? Those were the attitudes he gave every single time they warned him against his lifestyle.

He was the life of the party. One would think that a celebrity had just entered when he shows up at any social gathering with dozens of friends who had no work but to follow him around and party with him. He would most times pay for everybody at the bar, restaurant or mall he walks into and walk out with the hottest ladies there.

This went on till his parents grew old and gave up the ghost. As the only child of his parents, of course all property was handed over to him. He became the richest man in town but something was the problem, he misplaced thoughtful giving for lavish spending.

Everybody wanted to associate with him, bringing different fake problems just to extort him. Friends often stole from him. He never hesitated to think that he was keeping up his parents’ good works. Every weekend, he would throw a party at his parents’ mansion. A party that was always open to all that cared to come.

Of course, almost half of the city showed up every single weekend, leaving the house in an absolutely complete mess, but he never bothered. After all, there were cleaners in the house to make it look new again.

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Gradually, as time passed, the bank started to notify Mr. James about how the money he had left could no longer fund his lifestyle. He stopped giving carelessly but there was no way he would give up partying. That was the only thing he knew how to do.

At this point, Jackson paid more attention. He focused only on his father's lips as if a glance away would make him lose the next information as he explained further.

One after the other, James sold his parents' properties until he had none left but the mansion. Also, one after the other, his friends began to leave him. Over time he could no longer afford feeding, let alone going to parties or clubs. Eventually, he had no choice but to sell the single last thing he held, the mansion. After that, he started to apply for jobs but couldn't get any because he had no skill, qualifications nor experience. This was how he started to move around beginning for what to eat till his clothes gradually turned into rags.

Jackson's father reached out to the bottle of water on the stool just in front of him, turned open the cover and filled an empty glass cup on the stool. He covered the bottle and dropped it back on the stool while picking up the glass cup to drink from it. Jackson watched every single move his father took with his eyes wide open and his lips closed. He knew the story had ended, but he wanted to see if his father would say more words after drinking.

Now I expect that you pick two major lessons from Mr. James's story. Again, he placed his hand on Jackson's right shoulder, looking straight into his eyeballs. The first lesson is to never turn a blind eye on those who need your help especially when you have the capacity to help, because the people you help today might be of help to your children tomorrow. The second lesson is that you always remember that nothing lasts forever, so when things are working as planned, prepare for the day when they won't.

He took his hand off Jackson's shoulder, leaned back, pressed his palms together, with his fingers interlocking and his elbows rested on the arms of his wooden chair. With a more relaxed expression on his face, Jackson leaned on the wall behind him. He said nothing while he tried to remember the man's face, fixing it to a character and scenario he had imaged from the story his father had just narrated.

This is my entry for the Inkwell Fiction Prompt #219. I hope you find it interesting and worth the time. Thank you.