He burst open the door swiftly with a kick that almost broke the hinges; perturbing the meeting that was taking place inside; held by the funeral committee. He was soaking wet; his dark skin absorbed every single bit of light present in the room. Bare chested; He staggered his way in clutching onto a whiskey’s bottle.
His entrance commanded silence.
His eyes; shone red like lava protruding from the vents of a volcano. Breathing hard; panting like a beast who missed its feast for days. He opened his mouth to speak. Though he staggered; he kept to the tune of his roots; even though he almost fell, his whiskey never touched the ground.
His alcoholic stench laced with bad breath from his caffeinated tooth; hit the noses of the funeral committee.
So whence he spoke, he stammered, gibberish was the eloquence of his words as they escaped his throat. It cut through the fears of the circle table and onto his mother; who sat at the far edge, disapprovingly stared in dismay.
“No…b..b…body shall inherit my father’s kingdom….
Nobody shall inherit my father’s wife”
Authoritatively. He spoke with the voice of his father. He stared at his uncles straight in the soul. He had his father’s eyes. Everything about him resembled his father. The way he staggered; the nature of his speech. He not only commanded the silence to listen to him. His outburst fetched fear and captured guilt from his father’s murderer; beneath the table they hoped to skelter like cockroaches and hid from the reality like Adam hid his nude from God.
But even in his blissful stupors his eyes shone; even his father never missed the tiniest of details. This scared them more. The preparations had been done. How to redistribute his father’s wealth among his devious uncles; even his mother was up for redistribution. Him; he reminded them of his father. The huge guy. They were shameful in their hearts. They did not expect him to rise from the dead. Was Jared alive in his son??
They remained unmoved in their seats. He assumed he never got to them. So he staggered his way out. As he left his shadow behind; the funeral committee burst into laughter. One of them spoke.
“Forgive and ignore the young lad…. He’s going through one of those phases..”
They laughed even more. This time more devilishly and it cut through the homestead.
Moments later; he came back. This time raging with mockery. He cracked the whiskey bottle on the floor; it spattered across the room. Shocked; they did not anticipate any drama.
“Cool down son”
Only for him to withdraw a long winding machete; its metallic tooth was hungry for blood. It was free from rust. He struck the table as it fell into half.
“Nobody shall inherit my father’s kingdom…nobody!!!”
Sensing the seriousness of the drama. Everybody took off. Others fell down. Running to save their lives. He was livid; yet it wasn’t under the influence of alcohol.
Everybody ran off. Except his mother. Who smiled proudly; evading any signs of grief.
“Was wondering what would take for you to be a man… Jared must be smiling wherever he his”
She spoke.
©Heart_Art_Poetics
As written by Phill Ibsen ( Master Of Descriptions )
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