HOUSE OF CRAWFORD: CONRAD'S LEGACY.

Who Is My Father?

“If you want to lie to me then you have to stop mentioning my late father in your business.” He muttered to himself summoning up the courage to find his house.

Every thought of what had transpired in the past few hours questioned his sanity from him almost getting convicted by the police for a crime he knew nothing about and when he thought he had been set free he got the biggest shock of his life. Who would I’ve thought that the girl who

“You think he can m he had sacrificed both his money and attention would jilt on him with another man?

“Gosh! What crime did I do by loving someone affectionately?” He kicked the trash can standing at the right wing of his door.

He tried fighting back the tears that were welling up in his eyes so he wouldn’t break down since he was about to make his way into his apartment. But, the moment he rested his hands on the wall with his head placed on the wall he broke down in tears mixed with a feeling of regret and betrayal.

“Is it a crime to be dining with poverty? I’ve fought all my life day and night trying to make sure that she doesn’t lack anything that she wants and at the end of the….” He sobbed in his words crying out loud in his cracky voice.

He took a deep pause, inhaling and exhaling his words, “She still cheated on me with someone better.”

Conrad was pouring out his tears of pain and betrayal that he didn’t even realize that some of his neighbors were lurking around to figure out what was happening to him.

“Why is he crying like a baby?” One of the neighbors in the neighborhood muttered into her co-tenant ears.

“Don't you know he is a baby? Can’t you see his clothes looking so dirty? Who knows maybe he was beaten badly?” The co-tenant mocked him with her words, giving Conrad a dead stare, one that felt as if she was irritated by his presence.

“Why are you guys thinking too far?” another feminine voice broke into the neighbors' conversation.

“Excuse you?” the eldest among the neighbors poked her nose forward feeling invested in their conversation.

The female neighbors brought all their heads together to pay rapt attention to what she had to say. She cleared her throat and stared into their eyes, “Who knows maybe he got beaten by his mother and she had no better choice than sending him out of her house.” They all choursed out with a loud sardonic laughter darting their eyeballs towards where Conrad stood.

Immediately, Conrad cleansed his eyes with the back of his hands and reached for his door knob but the humiliation he felt from his neighbours weighed on him and triggered him so badly that he didn’t realise that he was already standing right in front of them.

“What the hell do you want to do right now?” they all ganged up against him chorusing their question in one accord.

Conrad bit the under part of his lips, twisting his knuckles into his palm before voicing out, “I don’t want to harm you guys in any way but endeavour to keep my name out of your silly mouth.” He dropped his two cents, turning his back away from the squad.

“Go tell that to the bitch of a mother who gave birth to you and stop waxing your energy on us, loser”.

“What did you just call me now, Linda?” His eye brow furrowed at the young feminine lady who stood up to his face.

“I called you a loser just the way your mum lost you into the team of poverty. Oh!” She laughed out loud at him rotating in three sixty degrees.

She continued after gathering everyone’s attention, “I’m sure you weren’t aware that I was at the restaurant and saw everything that happened between you and…”

Conrad knew that the more he stood out there giving out his time and attention to the gang of neighbours he was only shooting himself on the leg and causing more harm to himself. He gulped down his saliva hanging in his throat and slowly left their presence in shame.

“YO! Why are you turning back? I thought you wanted to flex your muscles on me but see who just got beaten with mere words." Another of the neighbours echoed her voice from behind as they watched Conrad quietly walk into his apartment.

Immediately his feet stepped into the apartment he fell to the soft couch in the living room feeling weak and stressed out. The words that were being said by his fellow neighbour echoed into his ears and shredded him out.

“Conrad, can you help me get something at the store? The list is on the dining table and I need it right now.” His aged mother who is around fifty years of age begged him while she kept ensuring that everywhere in the kitchen was kept clean.

Conrad gave her a deafening ear, spreading his hands up above the couch, listening to one of his favourite songs off his playlist without saying a word of response to his aged mother. 

“Conrad? Conrad?” The poor aged woman called his name one more time hoping to get a response yet the room was dead in silence. 

She knew he was in the sitting room but she wasn't certain if he was paying attention to whatever she had just said to him, “Didn't you hear me calling your…” her words hung in the air the moment she saw Conrad in a pool of tears. 

“Hey! Baby, what's wrong with you? Why are you crying?” she lifted his head up, placing it under her laps. 

He tried saying a word but his constant sob hooked him in his throat preventing him from speaking up. 

“Talk to me, Conrad. What happened?” Her voice grew faintly as if she was at the verge of breaking down. 

“Mum, she cheated on me.” He finally released the heaviness he was feeling in his heart. 

“Who? I'm lost here, Conrad. Who cheated on you?” Her eyebrows were arched up with so much eagerness to know who he was referring to. 

“Laura!” He bursted out loud in tears succumbing unto his mother embracing her with a soft hug as hit tears streamed uncontrollably from his eyes down to his cheeks. 

His mother was beyond astonished hearing the sudden news from her son's mouth. She clung unto him so tight, parting him on his shoulder, her hands parting through the corner of his hair, “You'll be fine, Conrad.”

Conrad's phone started ringing out loud but he kept on declining the call persistently without giving it a thought to reconsider. 

“Why are you not picking up your calls, Conrad?” His mother's feeble voice crept into his ears. 

“I don't want to pick up the calls, mum.” He released himself from his mother's warm embrace and tossed himself to the other side of the couch. 

“No! You have to pick up that call, Conrad.” She persisted in a condescending tone. 

“Mother, who is my father?” He sprang up on his feet darting his eyes to hers.