HEIR from the STREET

CHAPTER 2

Jon gave a maniacal laugh. He stood up abruptly and read the message again. 

Surely a joke... and an expensive one at that. He laughed. My surname isn’t ‘Stone'.

He looked at the message again, taking care to count how many zeroes were in the figure. 

“Seven zeroes.” He whistled. “One hundred million dollars, Oh boy!” 

I had better call the bank. There must be some sort of mistake. 

He dialled the bank customer care service. As he waited for someone to come online, he whistled a tune he vaguely remembered from his childhood. Even though he was certain no one played that song in the Foster home that he grew up in. 

Damn, no one played any song in that house. Not unless you wanted an intense ass-whooping. He smiled absently. 

“Hello. Citibank, Washington D.C” A voice said mechanically, startling out of his little trip into memory lane. “How may I help you?” 

“So, um... I received a message of a credit alert.” Jon said. “I’m sure it was just a mistake that can be –“ 

“Hold on, sir.” 

There was the sound of keys tapping and then, “Oh I can’t assure you, sir Stone. It was not a mistake.” 

Jon was dumbfounded. “That’s one thing. My name is not Mister Stone.” 

“Well, it was shown here sir, that...” 

Jon lost track of what the bank agent was saying as his attention was caught by a sleek black limousine that pulled over beside him. The back door opened and an elegant looking elderly man stepped out, adjusting his suit. 

“Young master Stone.” The man said in a deep bass voice. 

“Hello... Hello, are you there? Sir Stone?” The bank agent’s voice asked from the phone's speaker. 

“A mistake sir,” Jon said to the man and ended the call with the bank. 

“It is no mistake, sir.” The man smiled. “Come. Walk with me.” 

Jon looked at his work bike. He could not afford to lose it by leaving g it here to walk with this strange man. “I’m sorry sir. But I have to go.” He hopped on his bike. 

“Don’t you want to know the truth about yourself?” the man asked, raising his voice slightly. “Don’t you want to know why you were placed in a Foster home when you were 6 years old?” 

That stilled Jon. Because that was the question he had kept asking himself for the past 15 years. He turned to look at the man. 

The man nodded. “Peterson would watch over your bike. Let’s take a walk.” 

A big bald man came out of the driver’s seat and stood guard over the hike like it was work millions of dollars. 

Jon stepped away and followed the lead of the man, still eyeing the bike. “Um, who are you again?”

“My name is Vincent, Master Stone.” The man said, putting his hand into his trouser pocket ad they walked down the block. 

“So, erm – “ 

“Have you heard of the ‘Stone’ family, sir?” Vincent asked, cutting off what Jon was about to say. Jon shook his head so Vincent continued, “That is good. That is exactly what your father wanted. The Stone family is the greatest family on this side of the globe and arguably the greatest in the world too.” 

They walked in silence for a minute as Jon digested what Vincent had just told him. 

“The family has lots of money, power, riches... and also enemies,” Vincent said. “Being in the family comes with a lot of responsibilities. Responsibilities that only level-headed people that has seen life through a certain perspective can handle. And so, to prevent harm to come to the family, your great grandfather set up a rule...”

“...that each child must leave the family and go through the hardships of life before being deemed worthy of bearing the family’s name...” Jon said quietly. 

“Yes, you are right. You’re a smart one, just like your father.” Vincent smiled. 

“This all sounds so... far-fetched. So unbelievable.” Jon said, frowning slightly. “Is my father still alive?” Jon asked. 

“My God! Of course, he is!” Vincent laughed. “It was he, who sent me.” Just then, his phone rang. He checked the caller ID and said, “Speak of the devil. It is him.” He clicked the green icon and put the phone to his ear. 

After listening for some minutes, he gave the phone to Jon. “He wants to speak with you.” 

Nervously, Jon collected the phone. “Hello?” 

“Jonathan Stone!” A deep bass voice boomed from the other end. 

“Yeah?” 

His father gave a hearty laugh and said to someone at the other end. “He said ‘yeah’. Young Master Stone is telling the Elder Master Stone ‘yeah’. He’s got the true Stone blood running in his veins.” He laughed again and cleared his throat. “I’m sure Vinnie has told you all the basics and I know how you feel.” 

“Well, do you?” Jon asked, feeling sudden defiance. 

“Yes, child. It was Vinnie who came to me on the night of my 21st birthday too. And I know the exact way he broke it to me and I still remember the uncertainty I felt... and the anger.” 

Jon sighed but did not say anything. 

“We are going to see you soon, Jonathan. But till then, be rest assured that your life is not what it was anymore. Things are changing.” 

And the line went dead. 

Jon snorted as he handed the phone back to Vincent. 

“You heard what your father said,” Vincent asked, pocketing the phone. 

Jon nodded. “He said you broke him the news just as you did to me now.” 

Vinnie smiled. “I remember it just like it was yesterday.” He brought out a small silver badge. It was shaped like a rhombus with a large S and a small stone inscribed on it. “This is the family badge. Have it. It is a symbol of your identity.” 

Jon was still unsure but he collected it. They had gotten back to where the limo was parked, and surprisingly to Jon, Peterson still stood guard over the little bike. It was like he had not moved an inch. 

“We will be in touch,” Vincent said as he entered the limo. Peterson gave Jon a small bow and went to the driver’s side. Vincent nodded, “Till then, Young Master Stone.” And the limo quietly drove off. 

The still-astonished Jon rubbed the family badge between his fingers, he held it up to a street light and watched it catch and reflect light waves. “This is pure silver. Damn!” 

He pocketed it and moved towards his bike but then, a lady walked out of the bar and bumped into him hard. He staggered back but still caught the lady from falling. 

“Oh, my bad. Sorry.” She said. 

He could smell the odour of alcohol on her breath. “You are drunk.” 

She giggled. “I’m not.” 

Jon sighed and looked around. Maybe she was with someone or with friends that he could hand her over to. No one was in sight. He sighed even heavier. “I don’t have the strength for all this lady.” He muttered. 

She relaxed completely, making Jon strain to hold her up. “Help me.” 

“What did you say?” Jon asked. “Okay, that’s it. I’ll call a taxi for you and drop you in it.” 

“Help me.” She said a little clearer this time. 

“Help you from what?” Jon asked again. 

Her head rolled around in her neck. 

A fat man came out of the bar and looked around. His eyes fell on Jon and the drunk lady and he waddled over. “Is she yours then, mate?” He growled to Jon. 

Jon, who was still bent over, looked up at the man. He was almost as wide as he was tall. “That is none of your business.” 

“Oh, it isn’t, yeah?” The man came closer. “Leave her alone or else...”

Jon ignored him and still looked out for a taxi for the woman in his arms. Now, he was even more determined to make sure she is safe. 

A taxi pulled over and Jon opened the door and put the girl in. He started to enter the car behind her when the man rushed at him. 

“Hey,” the man put his hand on Jon’s shoulder and pulled him back, “Did you not hear what I said?” 

Jon twirled with the momentum and landed a heavy fist against the man’s nose. Blood spurted out and the fat man dropped like a bag of potatoes. 

The pharmacy that he had bought the drugs for Kim tinkered open and the lady came out. She took one glance at the slumped man on the floor, Jon and the drunk lady beside him. And then she nodded and said, “Go. I’ll take care of your bike.” 

The taxi man pulled out of the curb just as the woman pushed Jon’s bike into her store.