The CEO’S Syndrome
PROLOGUE
Joseph raised his hand to knock on the gate, only for the gate to move effortlessly.
Who had left the gate unlocked?
He wondered as he opened the gate wider and walked into his house.
Ever since things became tough for his father financially, he could no longer take a bus to school but trekked home from school. It is not a really far distance, so he did not see anything wrong in walking after school.
He loves his father very much and he is willing to understand his situation.
He remembered when his father walked into his room that fateful afternoon, looking so tired and sweaty all over.
On seeing his father, he abandoned his books -littered on the desk and bed- and hugged his father warmly.
His father laughed, scattering the young boys perfectly permed hair. ”My boy. How was school today? ”
Smiling like a 3 year old when he was nearing sixteen, Joseph replied as he sat beside some textbooks opened to different pages on his bed, ”Fine. Big man, you are home early, is everything okay?
Joseph addresses his father as Big man. According to him, he believes calling him daddy is nothing but old fashioned, but ig man sounds cool.
Waiting for a response but not getting one, Joseph sensed that something had gone wrong, so he asked seriously, ”Dad. What is the problem? ”
His father sighed and spoke finally, ”Son, I lost my job. I got framed for something I wouldn even think of doing in a million years ”
Joseph was quiet as he took the information in and assimilated it.
Joseph sighed as well and walked up to his father. He hugged his father and said, ”Dad, that does not matter. What matters is that we are together and hale and hearty and we can figure something out dad. Please stop looking depressed ”
Father looked at his son and hugged him harder, ”Thank you son. You are the best buddy in the world! ”.
He remembered the way his father was extremely happy after their little conversation that fateful day and he smiled as he got into the house through the front door.
He dropped his bag on the couch and took the stairs, heading to his room, he stopped when he heard his mother whimper.
When he heard another whimper coming from her room, he remembered his fathers lesson on how to be the man of the house.
Lesson 8 says: If you notice any suspicious movement in your house, it could be a burglar so don confront him empty handed but get a weapon before facing him.
Heading straight to the garage, he grabbed a pitchfork and a spade before heading back up.
Once he got close to his mothers room, her door was slightly ajar with clothes discarded carelessly on the floor.
He took careful steps and pushed the door quietly before entering.
Right at the entrance, he saw a scene he knew, then and there that he would have a hard time forgetting.
He saw his mother having sex with his uncle.
Or that was what he was told to believe.
The first time he had met the supposed uncle was when he was ten years old.
He had seen his mother standing dangerously too close to a stranger at his school parking lot. His mother came to pick him up from school and she had brought a stranger along.
Covering some distance, he saw clearly what his mother was doing. She was embracing another man in a hug like lovers would.
”Mom! ”, he shouted before running to her.
His mother was uneasy and quickly disentangled herself from the stranger.
As he got to his mother and hugged her legs, she scolded at once. ”Don ever rush your steps son. How many times do I have to correct
you? ”
Joseph wrinkled his pretty nose in response and asked the stranger who stood upright watching their conversation with an amused look, ”Who are you? ”
His mother gasped and turned to her son once again and scolded, ”Don talk to people so bluntly. Its wrong ”
The stranger only chuckled and crouched to Josephs height and responded, ”Hello little Joseph, how was your day at school? ”
The stranger chuckled and ruffled Josephs hair. Joseph looked paranoid and responded, ”Don ever touch my hair. Only my father gets to do that ”.
Soothing his hair with his little fingers, he faced his mother a