Bro, what! He has a Quintillion?

Grandpa!!!

No matter how much Alves thought about it, he couldn't bring himself to a definite conclusion. He quit tossing the thoughts from one side to the other. He walked towards the open space and stopped a cab.

"Majood Riverside."

He told the driver and the cab zoomed off. It didn't take much time to get there. He got off and paid. He turned at once in the direction of the Riverside.

He stood there for a while, doing the last thinking, perhaps he could take a guess of whom the person he was going to meet was.

It was only grandpa who would take him to the Riverside on his birthdays when he was younger even up to this day. If it wasn't because of the cold hands of death, he probably would be there next week too. His birthday.

He shook his head scoffing,

"Impossible. His coffin was taken away."

That was the funny thought he had.

WHAT IF IT'S THE REAL OWNER OF THE MONEY?

That was the thought he had been trying to avoid all the time. He realised finally that he was wasting time standing there. All he had to do was take wild strides and in no time, he would had walked through the garden and arrive at the river.

He began to close the pace. There were usually nobody in that garden. The garden was largely unkempt. Alves had no idea why grandpa always came there. The old man never told him. Even if he wanted to know now, he could never. Only if it was possible to speak to the dead.

When he was close enough to the river, he saw someone standing by the bank of the river, staring at the breadth of the beautiful river.

"This doesn't feel right. It doesn't sit right."

He convinced himself. He took gentle steps closer to the man whose back was to him.

"No way... it's not him. It can't be."

He shook his head as though he was having a hard time believing his eyes.

"I mean how did he get here? How is this possible?"

He muttered. He couldn't risk raising his voice, else he would alert the old man standing few metres away from him. Alves gulped.

"Grandpa!"

He called on top of his voice and the man turned slowly to him.

"Yes. It's your grandpa. What are you doing here?"

Alves hurried to the old man whose face broke into a gentle smile when he saw Alves. Alves fell on the feeble shoulders of the man, but the old man seemed not to care. He seemed like he had been wanting to hold Alves in his arms.

Alves pulled away from the man after a while, and the man reached out his shaky hands to touch both his cheeks. Alves knew too well to lean forward so that the old man wouldn't feel too stressed.

"Poor boy. Poor little soul. My heart break everytime I see you. But now that Casper is gone, I'm not sure if any piece of my fragile heart is in its place."

Alves watched a tear stray off the face of the man. He couldn't keep looking. If he did, he wouldn't be able to hold back his tears either. One of them should be strong for the other right?

"Come, grandpa. I'll take you the bench."

Alves looked in the direction of the brick bench which was not too far from the bank of the river. They should get there in no time.

The man slid his palms gently from Alves' cheeks to the chest pocket of the tuxedo he was having on.

"How will Casper feel to see you look so manly and radiant in this tux. Isn't this what he has always wanted for you? A place at the top... a comfortable position, where you have no need to worry about money."

Alves nodded,

"Come grandpa."

All he wanted to do was help the old man to a seat. The man's legs were too weak to hold the body in a balance for long.

The old man hit Alves' hand,

"Don't treat me like a disabled. Did you think I was on a wheelchair for ten years because I can't walk?"

Really, Alves could exclaim but he didn't. He had learnt from his grandpa that old men keep secrets that seem funny on the surface but are quite important as well as relevant.

"That silly fool... his words came to pass eventually."

The old man muttered.

"Huh?"

Alves was confused obviously.

"Two summers ago, while we were playing Mahjong in my Manor. He said I would have no choice but to get on my feet at his death. He wasn't joking around after all."

There was a sad silence that corrupted the air.

"If I had known that he was serious, I would had stood up long ago. Take a walk with him... enjoy things we used to, at the prime of our best friend get-go."

The man heaved a mighty sigh. His eyes were heavy and red. It was obvious that he was doing all he could do hold the tears in. The poor old man had just lost his best friend.

"Let's go."

The old man offered this time. Alves helped him to the bench. He helped the man take a seat. While he was trying to settle down, he noticed the man reaching to the back of the bench.

"Do you need any he---"

Before Alves could render a help, the man had brought up a book. When he saw the book, his eyes widened.

"This book..."

He couldn't hold back the curiosity. The old man laughed gently and reached the book to him.

"He said to hand this book to you at his death. This is a present for you."

"A present?"

Alves quizzed. He gulped again. He didn't know what to expect. What present could his grandpa keep from him through the twenty three years of hard life and trouble? What present could the old man had kept away and only had delivered to him through his best friend?

This old man seated across the bench was his Grandpa's best friend. A man who was always on a wheelchair. Alves had always referred to the man as his grandpa too ever since he was young.

Who could had thought that his Grandpa's best friend would end up assuming the role? Though Alves didn't quite approve of that. He used to think that the old man was a sly fox. He had grown to known the difference and truth.

His attention was back on the book in his hand. His eyes racing the title of the book;

PARALLEL WORLD: A CONSUMABLE MYSTERY.

Growing up, he had only seen his grandpa read only one book. This book! Most times he had mocked the old man for reading the same book since the days of his youth. Alves had no idea why his grandpa kept reading the same book, over and over again. And whenever he asked, he was told,

"Not the time."

And now to think that his grandpa was handing the book to him.

"Open it. The present is inside."

"Huh?"

Alves looked up at the old man. He had almost forgotten that he had a company.

WHAT COULD BE INSIDE THIS WEIRD BOOK? A PRESENT WITHIN A BOOK?

He had thought that, the book was given to him so he could read. Who could had thought that the present was inside?

He didn't have much time to wonder. He opened the book. He saw an envelope. The speed of his thumping heart accelerated. He gulped again.

AN ENVELOPE?

He stared at the plain back of the white envelope.

WHAT COULD BE INSIDE? A CHEQUE? LETTER? COMBINATION?

Nothing sat right in his mind.

He reached his fingers slowly to the edge of the envelope and turned it to the other side where he would have an access to opening it.

There was an address written on the envelope. At that moment, he knew it was a letter. But that wasn't stunning anymore. What was more shocking was the address on the letter.

He gaped as he read, eyes about to pop out of his sockets,

DEAREST XMT.