JIEGO
I rolled to the other side of the bed, still with my eyes closed. When you’ve spent half of your life in a small and tight apartment, you’ll know exactly where everything would be. I know where the lamp would be facing at from this angle. I know where my towel was tossed last night when I came home drunk. I know where the ashtray was, and I know how many cigarette butts were in there. Seven, or maybe eight.
I stretched my hand to the side table and reached for the phone. It was still in the same place I put it last night. It may also be possible that I located it because of the sound of my alarm as it gets louder and louder as I struggled to reach the table. It was then that I opened my eyes and saw the time: 7:10 in the morning. I turned it off and after letting out a grunt, I sat up the bed, picked up my shirt from the floor and wore it. It smelled like sweat.
My head was still ringing with unexplainable ache. Perhaps it was the alcohol or something stupid I did last night which I was too wasted to remember. I didn’t know what it was exactly but that drink sure was the devil’s drink.
A knock on the door woke me up from my early regrets. I wasn’t expecting someone to visit me this early. I have no roommate (which always works out for the best) and no girlfriend to barge in any minute too. I’m basically alone… and miserable.
“wait up!”
I rubbed the gap between my brows. This hangover’s killing me.
I switched the door knob and the door creaked noisily. One of the most annoying things in this apartment. When I opened the door, a man with thick glasses, suit and a briefcase gave me a stretch of the lips.
“Mr. Jiego Santiago?”
His voice has a deep timbre and his chin was sculpted like a marble statue. I looked at him up and down, trying to remember who he was but I was pretty sure it was the first time I saw him in my place.
“yes… and who are you?”
“I’m Atty. Derek Sumayo. Can we talk in private?”
He looked around, lowering his voice when he said the question. There were two ladies at the end of the hall opening the door to their apartments. They were giggling, balancing the bags of groceries with their hands. Aside from them, there weren’t anyone else in the floor.
“you’re an attorney? Did I do something bad?”
He looked like he was about to laugh but didn’t.
“no. I’m pretty sure what I’m about to tell you is the opposite of that.”
That confused me more. The briefcase he was gripping with strong and huge hands has a code lock. Whatever this is, I know this is serious. It would be great if I have an inkling of what’s going on though. In the end, I decided to let him inside my home. It wasn’t presentable and I know everywhere reeked with alcohol (I do reek with alcohol too) but I have no time to clean. I didn’t expect to have someone in the house today anyway.
He looked around, just a quick scan of the place and then sat down on the brown couch.
“can I get you something? Water?”
That’s pretty much the only liquid I have in the fridge. He shook his head and opened his briefcase. There was a brown folder in there, and that’s what he has shown me. The document inside was at least 15 pages thick.
“take your time. tell me when you’re done reading the document so I can explain everything to you.”
And I did read the document. It was a last testament belonging to Daniel Sy. Wait… that name. How could I not know that name? He’s only one of the richest people in the country. His chain of hotels was one of the most-sought of international guests who wish to stay in the Philippines. He’s one lucky son of a… wait a minute. My name was also on the papers. It took me another 5 minutes to read the important parts of the document that I finally realized what was going on. Or at least understood what was it about.
“are you okay? you look… pale.” – the lawyer said
There are a lot of confusing jargons on the document. Some were because they were legal terms and some were simple words… I understood but didn’t understand why or how come. Especially the part when my name was repeatedly used in the document next to the phrase, “my legitimate son”.
“why… I don’t understand.” – is all I had to say.
“I know it’s all hard to take. That’s why I’m here to guide you with it all.”
I frowned. I handed the folder back to him and dragged a chair to sit down. All of a sudden, my legs felt like twigs. I’m no genius but I know what a last testament is about. What I don’t know is why my name was on the pages of that paper as Daniel Sy’s legitimate descendant. The old man and I haven’t even met once, for crying out loud!
“I… I don’t know what to say.”
The lawyer chuckled.
“I would be more worried if you’re glad after reading that. Anyway, I don’t know if you heard the news, but Mr. Sy died last night in his sleep. Everyone in the company is grieving. It was stroke. He was brought to the hospital but it was already too late. I’m his corporate and family lawyer and as what we agreed when we made that testament, the first thing to do is to give you that.”
Me? wait a minute… the billionaire died? Why wasn’t it in the news?
“I’m… I’m sorry. I didn’t know he died. It wasn’t in the news.”
“I know. But I bet tonight it’ll be. so… back to businesss. Automatically, all his properties will be transferred to you. The Hotel business, the manor, the convenience stores, all of it. You’re the only descendant he has named in his testament. You’re his only legitimate son.”
I let the statement hang in the air for a few minutes.
And then I laughed. I don’t know what exactly this is about but I am certain of one thing. Froilan, George and Rigor are behind this joke. This lawyer they sent may even be a paid actor.
“alright, cut the crap man. You almost got me there... but this joke’s isn’t funny at all.”
The lawyer looked at me with a confused expression. Now that makes two of us.