I keep seeing his face, his shattered face. In my sleep and sometimes when I am awake. Everyone I know says I made him up but I swear otherwise.
What five-year-old imagines someone that twisted? I saw him that day and no one can convince me I didn't.
Jonathan!
I looked in her direction and noticed she was staring.
"I was asking if you've found a job," she asked with droopy eyes.
Her disappointment did not bother me anymore.
"I have an interview this afternoon," she did not even act surprised. That's how low she thinks of me.
"You need to have and keep a job for more than three months. Else, I'll have to write you up," she scribbled on a piece of paper and handed it to me.
Telling Miss Oteng the truth about what I'm going through will be more trouble than it's worth.
For now, I will keep my haunter and his shattered face to myself. I took the piece of paper and walked out.
In a suit and tie under a scorching sun, I took a trotro to a building in the city. I looked around searching for the company's building.
"Excuse me, do you know where I can find Kaya Company Limited?" I asked a woman who shook her head as she soothed her crying, baby.
In their letter, they said they were located adjacent to the commercial bank. I looked around and the only thing closer to a business building was a cluster of stores.
I asked around only to be pointed away from the bank. I walked between buildings deeper into the city, after about thirty minutes.
I saw a signboard, on which was Kaya Company Limited. A tiny red arrow pointed towards the right.
"This is nowhere near the commercial bank," I voiced out my frustration only to get there and see people queuing at the gate. I walked past them and entered the building.
"Good morning, please I'm here for the interview."
"So join the line," a woman behind a desk said without looking in my direction.
As I walked back out I noticed I was overdressed. None of the people in the queue were formally dressed. Some even had on flip-flops.
"I thought they were looking for marketers," I whispered to myself and caught a glimpse of their death stare.
Slowly but surely the line moved, after what felt like days. I was back at the counter.
"Next!" a voice yelled from a room close by and the receptionist waved me by. I entered an office and a man pointed at a chair. I took a seat and looked around.
A standing fan squeaked as it blew hot air in our direction. On his right was a cabinet which had files and papers sticking out. A small window behind the cabinet coughed out air that made a tiny curtain flap at me.
"You are the marketer?" the man asked flipping through my documents.
I nodded vigorously.
"Do you have a means of transport?" the man asked as he walked to the cabinet.
"No sir," I said reluctantly.
"That's fine, fill this out."
I collected a form from him and patted my pockets for a pen. I took one from the table and started to fill out the form there and then. Immediately I was done I handed him back the form.
"We will give you a motor you will use for your deliveries. We will deduct a percentage of your salary towards it's payment."
"Excuse me, deliveries?" I asked hoping I misheard.
"Yes, in fact we have orders at the moment. Tag along to see our operations," the man then yelled and a young man walked in.
"Sir," he said with both hands behind him.
"Take him along for your delivery,"
I followed the young man out and he handed me a helmet. He got on a packed motorcycle and I sat behind him. The motorcycle roared to life, blowing blue smoke like a chainsmoker.
I put the helmet on and gagged instantly. I immediately took it off and took a deep breath. I looked up and caught him staring.
I smiled and slowly put the helmet back on. We moved and I jerked back almost falling off. We sped out of the compound as his colleagues hailed us.
On a rough road, he swerved evading potholes. All of a sudden I saw the man with the shattered face in the middle of the road.