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THE DUST JACKET

What if you purchase a book from a second hand bookstore and found a dying letter written on it? What would you do? Would you ignore it? Would you try finding the previous owner? This is the dilemma of Eric, a young D.J. of an evening segment to a radio station. He bought a book at a small second hand bookstore. When he got home, he tried to browse the pages of the book. He then noticed that at the last blank pages of the book, a letter was written. It started with the greeting, “Yam” and ended with “Your Dad.” It is actually a letter of a dying father to his daughter whom he had not talked to for ages. Having read it several times, Eric wanted to give the book to the daughter but his dilemma is he does not know where to look for her. The only clue that he has is the simple greeting, “Yam.” The letter kept on bugging him, as if pleading to be sent to the addressee. What will he do? Would Eric be able to give the dying message of the father to his daughter?

bjvisperas · Realistic
Not enough ratings
21 Chs

CHAPTER 7

"We're here," Mr. G. C. said as he parked the car in front of the place.

Eric was left speechless. It wasn't what he has expected. Since last night up to the point of their travel going to the place, Eric has formulated possible places that they're going to.

Unfortunately, none of them was right. It was not an advanced hospital even though the father was sick and dying. It was not an exclusive home for the aged even though the author was all alone in life. It was not even a luxurious mansion even though the client of Mr. G. C. was a prominent personality in the business world. What made Eric be stunned then?

Eric was surprised since the place was located at Riverview Heights. He had never visited the area before but he had heard about it several times. He knew that it's an area for well-off people. The millionaires and billionaires of the land live in such prestigious area. It's actually one of the most expensive neighborhoods not only in Cincinnati but also in the entire United States. Real State companies said that the residents of the area are in the company of the wealthiest communities in the nation.

Eric was surprised that the home of the father was within the area. Eric was aware that the father was rich. He was alert when Mr. G. C. informed them that his client was a prominent personality. However, he did not expect that he was that prominent. He expected a mansion in Mt. Lookout or a villa in East Westwood but not in Riverview Heights.

The house was not a mansion, a villa nor a walloping home. It was actually not the most decorated one compared to the surrounding houses. It was a simple bungalow-type of residence that looks like a product of 90s. It was like a kitten enclosed with tigers. While all the neighboring houses were huge and near-to-a-palace type of houses, the house of the father was just a simple house that could be said an affordable housing to a working class.

Eric perceived it as ironic. He couldn't see the logic behind the type of the house with the value of the area. Eric knew that the father is a simple old man but he didn't expect that his house would be this simple. It was just a plain and simple house.

Eric quickly had an idea why the father would want to stay in such a privileged area. It was not because of the status symbol attached with the area. Rather, Eric has heard before that the residents of the area have more of a Canadian ancestry background. This may be the reason why. It must have been about comfort for the father since he lived in Canada when he was young.

As Mr. G. C. was about to knock, the door opened. A young lady in white clothes from top to bottom appeared. Mr. G. C. introduced Eric to the young lady. Her name was Anna. She's the caregiver of the author of the letter.

"Anna, where's Mr. Clements?" Mr. G. C. asked. Eric didn't bat an eyelid. He didn't want to show that he gained new information. He kept it to himself. So the mysterious father's name is Mr. Clements. His curiosity rose up to the max. If only he could run to the place where this mysterious father is, he would have done it in an instant.

"He's waiting for you in the usual spot," Anna responded as she led them inside the house.

Eric noticed one of the open rooms they passed by along the pathway. It seems to be the room where the books in the coffee shop used to stay. It's a small room yet there were bookshelves in almost every corner of the room. Most of them were empty. There were also executive chairs and wooden table stationed at the center of the room. Above it is a glistening crystal chandelier, which has clear strands, gleaming teardrops and sparkling prisms as design on an open antique brass frame. The room must be the private library of Mr. Clements.

Eric thought that room might also the place where Mr. Clements wrote the letter at the back leaves of the book. Sitting on a chair, a pen in his hand, book on the table lighted by the dazzling chandelier, Eric was already vividly imagining the scene.

Eric perceived that the owner of the place was really a bookworm yet with a simple taste with regard to the rest of the furnishing of the house. The rest of the rooms that they passed by were with typical furnishing that one could find in affordable houses.

Finally, they have reached the spot. It was the garden. If the house was pure simplicity in every angle, the garden was a collection of exquisiteness. There were perennials, bulbs, woody plants, and blooming shrubs, which reward Mr. Clements with an ever-changing palette of seasonal beauty.

To the west, a small garden of stargazer orchids, whose size and symmetry recalls the medieval gardens, created a calm atmosphere. It is designed as a place for spiritual healing through contemplation, meditation and reflection. To the East, the elliptical beds, accentuated with an oversized granite mortar and pestle, reflected the grandeur of healing plants. Furthermore, at the center of the garden, a gazebo and two latticed arches covered with climbing roses completed the picturesque scenery.

Moreover, at the heart of the gazebo and the entire garden, there sat the mystery father that Eric has been looking for. He was wearing blue turtleneck sweater matched with grey pants.

As Eric and Mr. G. C. slowly approached the old man, Eric's vision of the name became clearer and clearer. The man was reading a book and has eyeglasses to help him. Stunned by the features of the man, Eric looked at him from top to bottom as to confirm that his waiting was over. The old man was tall despite sitting down. He's with a wide, wrinkled face, and austere looks. His large head was very grey and his body was barely skin and skeleton.

The mysterious father smiled as he saw the face of Mr. G. C. It was like an ecstatic smile of a father seeing his son coming home from a camp. "How are you today? Mr. G. C. asked him.

The old man removed his glasses and placed them together with the book beside him. He did not say a word. He just continued to smile and pointed at the empty chairs in front of him as if telling them to sit down.

As both Eric and Mr. G. C. sat down, the old man glanced at Eric. It was their first time to meet each other. Despite being old, the old man still has a sharp memory. He knew that he has never met Eric before. "Who's with you, George?" he asked Mr. G. C.

It was not a mistake that Mr. Clements called Mr. G. C. as George. Unlike the rest of the world, the old man does not call Mr. Geoffrey Caldwell, Mr. G. C. He calls him, George. His reason was that Mr. G. C. reminded him of his classmate during his college days who was a dreaming and was also into laws. It's a simple reason that Mr. G. C. came to accept through time.

"I'm Eric."

"Remember the DJ who bought one of your books?" Mr. G. C. added.

Mr. Clements gave an unguarded smile at Eric. "Oh… You're young," he commented. It was not the first time that Eric heard such comment. When he joined the radio station, those words were music to his ears whenever he meets strangers wherever he goes event hosting.

"How about me? I'm still young as well," Mr. G. C. reminded as he laughed.

"Come on George. You're in between us. If I am old and he…" Mr. Clements pointing at Eric, "…is young then you are in the middle. That makes it, you are the word, 'and.'" The three of them laughed at the remark of Mr. Clements. Despite being sick, Mr. Clements still has the strength to laugh and crack some jokes once in a while.

"I'm Mario… Mario Clements." He shook hands with Eric. Likewise, Eric introduced himself again. When Eric was closed enough with Mr. Clements, he noticed that he was glowing yet there was a glooming feelings that battles with the radiant glow of Mr. Clements. It was both peace and sadness. He was peaceful to himself while at the same time, he was sad.

Mr. G. C. stood up. "I'll leave the both of you and help Anna prepare the snacks," Mr. G. C. said and left. He actually planned from the start to leave them alone. He knew that Mr. Clements could still manage to have a decent conversation with Eric. Besides, he knew the story of Mr. Clements by heart. It is to give them privacy as well as to give food to his stomach.

"So what do you want to ask?" Mr. Clements smiled at Eric.

Eric practiced for this moment. He prepared a short speech to begin their conversation. "Let me first of all apologized for reading your letter during my program. I know that it's personal but I was moved by it. I felt that there was a voice wanted to be heard by others so I read it." Eric acted contrite.

"It's okay."

Silence has embraced them in its wings for a moment. Eric wanted to ask yet he was hesitant. He was careful in his approach. When Mr. Clements could wait any longer, "If you don't want to ask, let me be the one then… Where did you buy the book?" Mr. Clements asked.

"Ah… At Dust Jacket. It's a small shop along Linwood Avenue."

"Oh I know that place." Mr. Clements showed an unguarded smile. "Is Mr. Carrizales… Philip Carrizales still reads at the counter while overseeing the shop?"

Eric just stared at him since he doesn't know the person that Mr. Clements was asking about.

Seeing the confused face of Eric, Mr. Clements described the man. It has the same feature as the old man that Eric met at the shop. Mr. Philip Carrizales was a good friend of Mr. Clements. Not wanting to be recognized by Mr. Carrizales, he sent Mr. G. C. to sell the books to him. He knew that the books would find rightful buyers if they were to be sold at Dust Jacket. Mr. Clements was right. Within the week, most of the books were already sold to different customers. Eric was the last one to buy the last book at the shop.

When Eric has recognized that Mr. Clements was referring to the owner of the shop, "Yeah… He was quite talkative," Eric described.

Both men laughed slickly. Most customers come often to the shop not only because of the books but also the wisdom they gain from listening to Mr. Carrizales. As a book lover, he shares all inputs he had about the books that customers buy in his shop.

When the nerve-racking ambiance mellowed down. "Can you tell me then what happened to you when you were in Winnepeg?" Eric suddenly asked. It was time, Eric thought. This was his chance. He came for this moment. This experience to ask Mr. Clement about his life was the only reason for his search. It's now or never for Eric.

Mr. Clements looked at the dream catcher hanged at the core of the gazebo. "I was waiting for you to ask that." He glanced back at Eric. "Let me tell you then my story." He then slowly narrated his life to Eric who was attentively listening. Eric did not want to miss even the smallest detail that comes out of the mouth of Mr. Clements.

"I would never forget the day that changed my life, the day that was close to my heart. It was winter of 1995, an ordinary day like any other at Winnepeg. The sun started to show some bright smile. For days, the snow was so deep that many had been snowed in. When everyone else was busy clearing the snow, it was another day for me to continue forking some money out for my vices. I was spending like a sailor on shore leave just because I got a bit of my trust fund from my grandfather. I was the horrific skipper of my lost ship with no compass or map as my navigation.

It was until by accident or coincidence, I met Lizzy. People call her Beth but I call her Lizzy. There she was, shoveling some snow in front of a school for gifted people. Unlike me, she didn't come from a well-off family. She had many jobs just to fulfill her dreams. She was busy as an airport worker during the day and while at nighttime, she was a diner waitress. Yet, what was more striking was the day that I met her, she was a volunteer at the school. Yes, you heard me right. She was a volunteer. Regardless of her busy schedule with her jobs, she still managed to volunteer as helper at the school.

Despite her covering from head to toe, my eyes caught her exquisiteness. She was the most beautiful woman I saw. She was slim and pretty with wild brown hair and eyes to match. She had that Mona Lisa smile that drew my interest. Moreover, she resembled an old-fashioned heroine like those in the novels of the nineteenth-century. You know what I mean if you are a lover of classical books.

Now, you might be wondering what a spoiled brat like me, doing in a school for gifted children. First of all, I was not gifted. I was just a juvenile young man with no direction in life. The simplest reason why I was there, well, because it's part of the conditions of my trust fund. My grandfather loved me so much that he wanted my life to have some kind of direction. He included in the conditions of my trust fund that I must volunteer in a school by helping at least once a week for at least ten months. I didn't see the positive result of me doing a menial job back then. I even questioned the lawyer. I was raised with a silver spoon in my mouth, why on earth should I work as a volunteer? Yet thanks to that experience, I am what I am now.

Going back to Lizzy. At first, she didn't talk to me no matter how much effort I exerted. I gave her flowers. She just offered them on an altar. I gave her expensive chocolates. She shared them with the children. I gave her luxurious bag and clothes. She gave them to needy. I invited her to a five star restaurant. She rejected my offer and instead, she went out with her friends at a diner. Of course, those rejections didn't stop me. I continued notwithstanding the many rejections she made.

She knew my reputation as someone opposite to her in many ways. She was responsible. I was immature. She was a hard worker. I was shilly-shallying most of the time. She was the positive. I was the negative. Yet as saying goes 'opposite attracts.'

One day, I was helping a gifted child who was crying over a broken toy. I tried many ways to calm him but he wouldn't until I saw a plastic bag containing some twist balloons usually used by street performers. I was not a street performer but I knew some tricks under my sleeves that I usually do to impress some ladies. I got one and started pumping some air in it. When it had enough, I started to mode a shape. First, I made a dog. Then, I also made a heart. When I was done with the two balloons, I gave it to the kid who was already calm watching me made them. He smiled and started to play with them.

I was relieved that I was able to calm him down but it wasn't over yet. The other kids saw what I did and approached me to do the same for them. I already observed in my past visits that these kids should be given what they want, if not, they would be hysterical. One by one, I started making them and added different shapes like butterfly, flower and out of this world headwear.

'You seem to be a nice guy after all.' A voice said.

I turned around and saw that it was Lizzy who was smiling at me. It was her first smile towards me. Usually whenever our eyes met at each other, it was as if I do not exist at all.

'I'm not an angel but I also have a heart.' I replied trying to engage a conversation with her.

She just smiled at me as the kid assigned to her pulled her back. I knew it was the start of something. It was my chance to show what my heart contains, on who I am as a person. After watching the kids, I offered her a ride since it was still snowing. This time, instead of a rejection, she accepted my offer. We were silent as we were on our way to her apartment. I was not used to such silence with a lady. I knew she was different from the rest of the ladies that I have met before. Yet, I couldn't find any words to start a conversation with her. I was like a neophyte again during my time with her. It's not that I was an expert or so but I have never been so quiet with a lady before. The last time that I could remember that I was a neophyte was during my first date with a girl.

Anyway, within twenty minutes, we reached her apartment. No first moves. No surprises. For once, I became a gentleman. We just said our goodbyes and I drove back to my apartment. True enough, it was unlike me. Being gentleman was never in my rules of the game. I only believed in fun, fun and fun. Who would have thought that such day would come? Who would have guessed that I would find my match? Who would have predicted that I would meet the person who would change my life?

It was the start of my metamorphosis. I didn't believe in love before but not knowingly I started to be changed by love. For days, we were dating. I usually waited for her after her work. It was the unlikelihood of my lifestyle. I was an impatient type of a person. I never waited for anyone. I was more likely to be waited by others.

We don't go to expensive restaurants. It was another change in my style. We would just spend some time talking with each other, usually in a local coffee shop that has plenty of books to entertain the customers. Now you know why how I gained interest in reading books.

After two months, we decided that she would move in at my apartment. Everything seems to be perfect until I returned to my forgotten self. I have not completely changed my ways. While she was working, I was out with my friends. To be honest, I had changed but not totally. Despite who I was, she remained patient in dealing with me. If I would be out with my friends all night, she would wait for me to arrive although she was tired the whole day from work. If I wouldn't be able to fetch her from work, she would not complain. Have we fought? Not that I can think of any instances. She would tirelessly remind me daily, every morning to grow up.

Lizzy endured my childishness for months being at my side. Yet as they say, there is a limit to everything. Her patience has reached its boundary. As you have read in the letter, she left. She went back to her parents to breathe some air from me. She needed a refresher. She needed to be away from the negativity. Of course that would be me. I couldn't be mad about it since I was used to it. Most people who loved me dearly wouldn't be able to stay by my side.

I was so foolish that I didn't stop her. I knew that the moment she would step out of the apartment, it was over. Yet, I didn't prevent her leaving. It was only when she was gone that I realized how much I needed her. It was only then that I have recognized that I couldn't live a good life without her by my side. Moreover, it was little too late.

Much to my longing, I didn't know where to look for her. I knew she went back to her parents. But boy, I didn't know the exact State where to look for her. My sadness made me more immersed in my vices. I spent more money and time to useless things and travels but still, I felt that there was a hole in my heart that would forever be present until I die.

I learned the hard way of love. I wasted my opportunity of everlasting happiness. I had taken for granted the love she had boundlessly showed me. Although I still have my friends, no one was able to replace her in my heart.

It was only after the death of my parents that I realized I was already alone in this world. It was then that my memories of Lizzy returned. The wound started to bleed once more. It was then that I understood the call to permanently change to be a better man. I entered the world of quality investment with the rest of the money that I received from my trust fund. Along the way, I learned how to man up. For years, I grew in becoming a gentleman and at the same time a respectable businessman," Mr. Clements narrated.

"Humble… Don't forget the word, 'humble.'" Mr. G. C. interjected. He was carrying a tray of refreshments together with Anna. They placed the refreshments on the table and Anna went back to the house. "It's always good to chew something while conversing," he added.

As they were filling in their stomachs, "George here," Mr. Clements tapped Mr. G. C. on his hips as he was seated next to him, "He has become like my son," he smilingly said.

Eric, who was quiet the whole narration, asked, "If I may, how did you meet Ms. Lizzy again? You have written in the letter that after five or six years, you have met her accidentally. It was also the moment you discovered about your daughter." Eric couldn't resist asking. He knew this moment wouldn't be repeated in the future.

"Ah… Yes… Going back to the story. After some years of being successful yet alone in life, I started to start a foundation. Learning from the lessons from the conditions of my trust fund. I established a foundation helping schools specializing with gifted children particularly with Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder (ADHD.)

In one of the updating seminars I have sponsored in Texas for volunteers, she was among the participants. You could say that it was destiny. She didn't expect that I was one of the sponsors and likewise I didn't think that she would be one of the participants.

Though the event was for three days, we didn't have the chance to catch up. I was busy with scheduled meetings with some business partners in the area. Likewise, she was busy with the activities of the event and with some of her friends with her. You could say she had plenty of reasons in avoiding me.

Of course, I didn't let the chance slip away. On the farewell dinner for the participants where a specific sponsor would talk with the group they would like to take in as one of their beneficiaries, I asked the event organizers their group. Of course, I selected other groups as well but I asked my assistants to present the proposal of my foundation to them and instructed them that I would take in Lizzy's group.

Lizzy didn't know that I would be the one to talk with her group. I thought I would be able to surprise her but I was the one who was surprised. Before I could enter the room where their group was having dinner, she was waiting for me at the lobby of the hotel.

'Mr. Clements.' A voice said as I entered the hotel. Of course, I knew who it was. How can I forget that calm tone of voice? I glanced at her. She was standing in front of the couches at the lobby. I asked my assistant to go ahead and I slowly approached her smiling.

'How are you?' I asked her.

'Better.' She responded. I was silently thinking what she meant. Was it better that she didn't return in my arms or just a plain word as an answer? 'I see that you have changed.' She added as she showed some smile.

Though we haven't seen each other in ages, I noticed that she was uncomfortable with my presence. 'Yes, I have. Well, it has been years.' We sat facing each other at the lobby area. I offered her to talk at the bar but she insisted that it would just be a quick talk. Although in my mind I hoped that it would be longer and forever, yet nothing is forever.

'You look great. Anyway, I'm sorry I just barged in on you without prior notice. I know you're busy with your meetings…'

Before she could even finish what she was saying, 'It's nothing. So… what do you want to say?' I interrupted her.

'Let me first apologize for leaving you without a word six years ago. The truth is, I had planned to return to your arms but fear struck me. I was afraid not for my own sake but for the sake of our baby…'

The moment I heard the word baby, my jaw dropped in surprise. Am I a father now? 'Wait! Let me clarify what you are saying. We had a baby?'

'Yes Mario! I didn't return because I discovered that I was carrying our two months old baby. I'm sorry. I know that as a father, you have every right with our baby. Yet, fear took over me. I was afraid that being with you would only make our situation worst and it would be bad for the baby. I was selfish. I'm guilty of that but I only did it, thinking not for my sake but for the sake of our baby. You know what you were back then. Despite what I tell you, you wouldn't change at all.'

I wasn't able to argue. She was right. I was a mess back then. I might have caused more trouble if she would return to me. Instead of arguing, I open my arms once more for her return, 'I'm okay now. I have changed. Can we then start over?'

She didn't respond immediately. Instead, she took out something in her bag. It was a picture. She gave it to me and said, 'She is your daughter. She is now five years old. She is now happy with our new family. Yes Mario. I waited for you to look for us but you didn't. My patience lasted until last year when I finally married someone else. I'm sorry. I shouldn't tell you all these things but as a father, I believe that you have every right to know. What I wanted to say is… Can you promise me not to show up in front of either our daughter or me? She recognized my husband now as her father and I don't want her to be in pain knowing that you are her true father. I'm begging you please…!'

Yet again instead of getting angry, tears have fallen from my eyes. I should have disagreed with what she was asking but seeing the picture of my daughter's bright smile, I didn't want to act mightily as a father then. If remaining silent was all I could do as her father for her sake then I was willing to sacrifice.

'Yeah. I promised!'

She smiled and grabbed my hands. Yet, my heart was wrecked after saying those words. To promise something as a businessman is staking everything you have and everything you are. I had placed my joy into limbo by sacrificing my fatherhood for the sake of the smile of my daughter.

That was the last time that I saw Lizzy. It was also the first and last time that I heard about my daughter."

Several times, Eric asked Mr. Clements about the name of his daughter but to no avail. He knew that he was out of the boundary. Yet, nothing could stand in his way in exhausting all possible clues regarding the daughter of Mr. Clements. Sizeable portion of his mind won't give up on his search. He intended to have at least a clue that would lead him in finding the daughter before he leaves the house.

"Didn't you regret making the promise?" Eric intriguingly asked.

Mr. Clements just smiled. Instead of answering it, "Do you believe in miracles, Mr. Barer? Because I do! I have accepted the impossibility of being cured but I still believe in miracle. In the sense that before I would die, I would be able to see my daughter's smile, the smile that I have taken away from her when she was growing up. I pray daily not for miracle of healing or the miracle of forgiveness. I pray for miracle of sight even just for some seconds," he narrated.

Eric was left speechless. The response of Mr. Clements ignited the heart of Eric to fulfill the desire of a dying father. With that, everything became clear to Eric. The voice that kept on bothering him for days after he read the letter was the innermost emotion of Mr. Clements. It was not the voice of despair nor the voice of sorrow. It was the voice of hope. It was a voice filled with hope that one day, Mr. Clements would be able to see his daughter.

When Mr. Clements saw that Eric was left unspoken, he turned his attention to Mr. G.C, "By the way George, how's your business doing?" he asked to give Eric some space.

"Good. It's doing great." Mr. G. C. got the last slice of the cake.

"This one actually is one of our latest pastries." He smiled and took a satisfactory bite.

"Oh! It's delicious." Mr. Clements glanced at Eric and said, "You should try going there." He gave a fleeting look at Mr. G. C.,

"George, why don't you invite Mr. Barer at your shop?"

Mr. G. C. just cackled. Before he could answer, "I have been there. They have gracefully hosted us last night," Eric interrupted and gave a pleasing beam.

"That's good then."

Suddenly Anna approached them with a pitcher of water. She gave a glass to Mr. Clements. It was time for his medication. Eric saw that Mr. Clements was taking at least three tablets of medicines that he was not familiar with.

Mr. Clements turned pale. Eric just realized that Mr. Clements was a dying man. He realized that they have been talking for more than two hours and he perceived that Mr. Clements should be resting. Instead of asking more questions even though he still has some at his bag, he suggested to Mr. G. C. that Mr. Clements should already be resting.

Before Eric could finish, "It's rude to whisper to someone while you're in front of a dying man," Mr. Clements teasingly said and smiled afterwards to show that he meant no harm by what he said.

"I'm sorry. I was suggesting that you need some rest," Eric apologized.

"I agree with him. Your doctors gave an austere command about your staying here at the garden," Mr. G. C. agreed.

"Where will I stay then?" Mr. Clements smiled. "Okay! Okay! You might lecture me again. I give up," he added.

Mr. G. C. went back inside the house and called Anna. "I'm too old. I may not be able to live another year. In time when you become a father yourself, please be a good father. If not, the best at that." Mr. Clements smiled.

Before Eric could respond, Mr. G. C. and Anna came back with the wheel chair that Mr. Clements uses. Mr. G. C. carried his second father and placed him on his wheel chair. Then, all of then went back and to the front door.

Clearing his mind from what Mr. Clements said, "Thank you again, Mr. Clements. Sorry for bothering you," Eric said.

"Oh! It was nothing. You're always welcome to visit me," Mr. Clements responded.

When both Eric and Mr. G. C. bade farewell, turned towards the car and started to walk, "It's Miriam. Miriam Longley," Mr. Clements blurted out. Eric and Mr. G. C. turned around and didn't say a thing. They both understood what Mr. Clements said.

They got in the car and drove off. Eric wanted to ask more questions yet at the same time, he was satisfied with his meeting with Mr. Clements. Not only did he gain another clue, the name of the daughter, but he also met an unbelievable man, Mr. Clements.

As Eric and Mr. G. C. were on their way back to the café, "Thank you!" Eric expressed.

"I should be one to say that." Mr. G. C. quickly glanced at Eric. "Not many people are visiting him. Other than myself, only a few in his company and the so-called friends in the business world visit him."

Eric knew what Mr. G. C. meant. He had the same experience when he was watching his father before he died. Like Mr. G. C., Eric felt the pain in watching his father live in agony yet he couldn't do a thing to ease such pain. He felt the father and son relationship that Mr. G. C. and Mr. Clements had just like his father and he.

"Ah… If I may, being the closest to him, have you tried to look for his daughter?" Eric promptly asked.

The smiling face of Mr. G. C. changed. He suddenly became serious. "I wanted to but… I couldn't…"

"Why not?"

"You see Eric, I made a promise to him not to look for his daughter. He foresaw that I would do all possible means to reunite him with his daughter after being close to him. He made me promise not to and I obliged even deep in my heart, I wanted to do something for him."

"But…"

Before Eric could interrupt, "I know what you wanted to say. In the world that Mr. Clements and I live in, a promise should always be fulfilled. It's a symbol of one's closeness with the other party. If broken, it is as if you also killed the other party."

Eric didn't answer back. He remained silent until they reached the café. He couldn't understand what he was feeling. He felt joy yet sad at the same time. It's a mixture that he hasn't tasted before. Silence was all that he had as a respond.

Before Eric left to thank Mr. G. C. for the opportunity of talking with Mr. Clements, "Why don't you join for a cup of coffee?" Mr. G. C. offered.

How could Eric reject him? It was through Mr. G. C. that he met Mr. Clements. Beside, Eric has no appointment for the rest of the day.

"Sure." Both men started walking towards the café.

As they entered the shop, they heard a phone ringing. It was Mr. G. C.'s phone. He pulled it from his pocket and answered the call.

"Yes Anna." He smiled at Eric as if apologizing for the disturbance. "What…? I'll be on my way now," he shouted in depression and hastily ran to his car.

Eric followed Mr. G. C. as he sensed that something was wrong. He believed that the call raised the alarm about something bad. When Eric reached the car, "Is there a problem Mr. G. C.?" he calmly asked.

"It's Mr. Clements." Mr. G. C. started the car engine. "I have to go. I'm sorry! Something bad has happened to him," he apologized.

Not knowing the full details of what happened, Eric asked if he could accompany Mr. G. C. since he was also concerned about Mr. Clements' condition and not wanting to waste time, Mr. G. C. agreed.