Chapter 7 Who Is Susan?

Few months ago when Jamole paced down to the bus terminal where he boarded bus to his work place, he often prayed inwardly for the homeless beggars that hounded the cold streets of Antipolo. But tonight he was literally one of them. Struggling under the weight of his bag, Jamole kept staring at the post office while he trudged away, hoping Dean Bur would change his mind and let him pass the night . “What sort of life is this? I caught my wife and her boss flirting, she divorced me and now I am homeless. What am I living for?” a thought echoed in his head. He sighed, tossed his head and snapped out of the thought. Few hours ago he had proposed marriage to Susan, the disable beggar on the street. And with that done, he had his plans running; he would work harder to pay her dowry and with the remaining proceeds, he would rent a house and carter for her. The disable beggar was as classless as he was. She didn’t look expensive and wouldn’t cost him much to take care of, unlike Stella, his wife who yearned for Arabic Coral Gold Ring and luxuries that could cost him his entire life savings. All he needed for the declining part of his life was rest of mind and nothing more. Not only had he endured life as a pauper, but he had always been pessimistic. He knew he would never be rich like Stella and her boss but he could afford a peaceful life; proposing marriage and making Susan, the disable beggar his wife was going to bring about his peaceful life. Jamole sniffed heavily; warm tears trickled down his cheeks as his thought recoiled back to his peasant parents who died as paupers. He had promised them in their death bed he would get on in life. When he married Stella who at the time was still the secretary at the prestigious Swan Real Estate he thought he was bringing the promise he made his parents into fruition, most especially when stella shouldered the responsibility. Little did he know he was digging his doom. He only caught Stella and her boss making out in their matrimonial bed; and right about now he pondered how long such iniquity had been happening behind him. Suddenly his knees shivered as he lost enthusiasm to walk further, so he halted, fell on his knees and wept bitterly while he pummeled into his bag. Another maddening part of his travail was his boss, Dean Bur who wouldn’t let him perch at the post office until he could afford a home. Like a bereaved widow, Jamole wept and kept staring at the dark woolly sky for help. Through teary tone, he sounded within himself. “Stella , your boss Dean Bur you all will regret it soon…” he sniffed and affirmed, “Yes, I pray I survive this fate, because I will be back…” When his stare combed around, he could see a few disable beggars, hanging around the streets and clamoring for help from passers-by, and he argued if Susan was doing same at this odd hour of the night. She could probably be resting at a corner. That was the place he met Susan a few hours ago and proposed marriage to her. He deemed it wise to return to that place and see how she was fairing and possibly share his predicament with her, since she was the only solace he had now. As far as he was concerning, getting married to a disable beggar wasn’t the end of life. He needed his peace and sanity to be intact while he figured out his destiny. He would work harder to prove some people wrong. Already his plans were ticking in his head and he looked forward to discussing it with Susan once he got to the pedestrian bridge. But first getting married to Susan was the foremost plan. Despite her physical challenge she was dashing and good to look upon. Jamole knew his marriage with Susan was going to stir a lot of reaction, especially from Stella who could mock him for his choice of wife. But he was going to feign deaf ears to her mockery. To him life just begun despite the losses, heart breaks and humiliation. Obviously he was back on his last toes but he was going to survive and get to the top of life, from where he would pour vengeance on his enemies. He grinned, clenched his teeth and forcefully wiped his tears as he walked on. Upon getting to the very spot Susan was at the pedestrian bride, he met a few beggars who were counting the money they had made for the day. Cautiously, he glanced around and was yet to find Susan. He drifted to the exact spot Susan was at the time and could only see her sizeable bag which he picked with keenness. It was obvious that Susan wasn’t anywhere around and she was done with her business for the day. But she had told him she was destitute and could always be found here. “Where the hell is Susan? Where could she possibly be at this ungodly time? Does she have a home? But she told me she was always here.” Jamole intoned within himself and combed around with his nervous, cloudy eyes. He drifted to a lame, teenage beggar close by who was counting his coins. “Hi, please did you by chance see Susan, the pretty beggar in a wheel chair?” Jamole asked. His subject tossed his head in approval. “Susan? She has left for home to meet her family. Hopefully you will see her tomorrow,” the teenager replied and resumed counting his coins. “Home? Does she have a home?” Jamole contemplated. “Does she have family?” he peeped into Susan’s bag as though she was in there. “Who is she?” His stare kept combing around for her. “Who is Susan?” He stared thoughtfully in the space as he perceived Susan might not be who he thought she was.