The Last Laugh

Chapter 8 - Lawyers



Chapter 8 - Lawyers

***

One Saturday when we were all home. Two men knocked at the door. Uncle Ken went to open the door

and the men came in. They were in suits and ties along with their briefcases. There weren't from our

place for sure. There were surely from the cities.

"Can I help you, gentlemen?" Uncle Ken asked.

"Uh yes, sir. I am Victor Ian and this is my colleague, Jason Drummond." one of the men said.

"I am the lawyer of the late Paul Wesley." Mr Jason said.

"Oh, welcome. Pleas,e you should both take a seat." Uncle Ken said and they did.

We all sat in the living room, waiting to hear what they had to say.

"We got news that he'd been..." Mr Victor was unable to finish his sentence.

"Yes." Uncle Ken replied quickly.

"Horrible. Well, um, I am or was his personal assistant back in Los Angeles."

"Oh, yes. I remember." Uncle ken said.

"Assistant?" Aunt Christina asked confused.

"Yes, ma'am. The late Mr Wesley has a company, owning a large and successful dairy products

industry in los Angeles."

"What???" she was shocked. I was surprised. I'd never known what this company was about.

"Christina allow the men to speak." Uncle Ken cut in. He'd never told his wife. No one in our town or

around knew about my dad's company apart from uncle Ken and I.

"We're here to read his will." the lawyer said.

"Go ahead."

The lawyer did.

"Mr Wesley gives a majority of his possessions to his son, Sheridan Wesley. Is he here?"

"Yes." my uncle pointed at me. I noticed aunt Christina gave me an ugly stare. I ignored her.

"Okay. He gives a totality of his company, industry, his four cars, his mansion back in LA and his share

of another company in which he invested."

I was more than shocked. My dad had all that?? Aunt Christina's mouth had dropped open.

"Secondly, he left a totality of his ranch and two of his other cars to you sir and your family." the lawyer

ended, referring to uncle Ken. I was happy dad had left something for him.

"Okay, sir."

"Sheridan?" the lawyer called.

"Y– yes, sir."

"You are still too young to touch this fortune. You can only do so once you are twenty two as per your

father's will. When he presumed you would be old enough and mature enough to take the right

decisions and manage all the property."

"Um, okay."

He took out some documents from his bag.

"A trusted adult should be the guardian of this fortune until you are twenty two. Who do you wish

should take care of it?"

"Uncle Ken." I said without hesitating.

"Okay. Sign." he gave me the documents and I signed. Then Uncle ken signed.

"Fine. I think that'll be all." Mr Victor said,"We'll be going. The co-manager would be in charge of the

company unless your uncle Ken wants to handle it?"

"No, let the co manager do so until Sheridan's big enough. I don't know how to mange a company."

"Okay, sir. As you wish. Goodbye. Keep the documents for proof. They belong to Sheridan."

"Of course."

And with that, he accompanied them out of the house. I noticed aunt Christina once again. She had a

satisfied and thoughtful look on. I wondered why. I didn't like her and I had a very bad feeling.

***

Days went by and I realised aunt Christina was more and more strange. I ignored her. To me she was

mad. In some sort of way. And Sawyer as usual was a pest. Always having and eye on me to make

sure I didn't try to speak to Heather. She had never told me sorry for my father's death. Never. She had

been impassive throughout. I was slightly beginning to develop hatred for her, and trust me when I say I

hardly developed hatred for anyone.

Things went on smoothly for me. Uncle Ken was slowly beginning to bring the joy I had once had back

into me. He was a very nice and loving person. He'd even told everyone that I was his son and that

he'd now adopted me. I saw a lot from my dad in him. He was my father now. Property © of NôvelDrama.Org.

*

Fate soon knocked at my door again.

"Aaahhh!!" a terrible scream could be heard from uncle Ken's room one early Sunday morning at

6:10AM.

I left my room running and I met the girls running too, all for uncle Ken's room. Some of the employees

were also running up the staircase towards the room to see what was wrong.

On entering the room, we all met aunt Christina in tears as she shook an immobile uncle ken.

"GET UP! KEN! GET UP!!"

I stopped in my tracks, my head beginning to spin. I watched like a statue as some of the men tried to

reanimate uncle ken. I noticed white foam or something of that sort in his mouth. I gulped.

"Mr Kenneth! Get up!!" one of the men said, hitting uncle Ken's chest and trying his best to reanimate

him.

I was frozen. Soon every agitation stopped and everyone simply stared at uncle Kenneth.

"He– he's dead."

The words echoed in my head like it was a dream.

"NOOOO!!" Aunt Christina screamed.

I stepped back, my heart threatening to burst out my chest. I became dizzy. The room and the floor

seemed to be moving. I looked at Sawyer and her mother screaming at the top of their lungs, both

begging uncle Ken to wake up. I turned to Heather. She had fainted.

It all seemed unreal. Voices echoed in my head continuously. Headache and dizziness took over. I

stared at the mourning. I'd gone pale and had suddenly stopped breathing.

The next thing I felt was the cold hard floor.

*

Uncle Kenneth had died. Just like that. Leaving me, Heather and Sawyer alone. Another burial. In just

a year. I hadn't even recovered from my father's death. Yet, there I was.

I'd cried more than ever and this time along with Heather and Sawyer. The whole ranch was down.

Now I was totally alone. Uncle Ken was buried too. In the same month as my dad a year ago. I didn't

know what to think anymore. And all this was just the beginning.

***

At the end of that year, I was only twelve and a half.

Aunt Christina had succeeded in making the girls feel better after their dad's death. I had noticed the

fact that she had only mourned her husband for a week and a half, and had passed over it. Like my

dad had said the night before he disappeared, she didn't love him. She didn't love anyone. I'd refused

to get over it. It was too hard.

-

One fateful day, dad's lawyer came over again. And to my disappointment, I was obliged to sign over

the care of my dad's property to aunt Christina. Luckily she had no right to use the money from my

dad's bank accounts that were meant for me. Or anything else. She just had to keep them. She was

more than satisfied with the responsibility though. That was the start of my agony.

--

Two days after the lawyer's visit, I was in the living room watching TV around 8PM with the girls when

aunt Christina came in.

"Sheridan?"

"Yes, aunt Christina?"

"Go pack your stuff from that room. You're not sleeping there tonight."

I looked at her confused.

"W– where then?"

"In your new room. The stable."

My mouth dropped open. Even the girls looked at their mother in wonder.

"The stable??"

"Didn't you hear me the first time? Yes, the stable."

"But aunty that's– that's where the horses sleep."

"So?"

I couldn't believe my ears.

"Things are really gonna change here, Sheridan." she said with a wicked smirk and came over to sit by

me. "There are new rules."

I gulped.

"Since you have no where to go to and nobody else to stay with, you're gonna have to pay to stay here.

And since you can't touch your money yet, you're gonna have to work."

The girls were as shocked as me. Heather tried to speak but her mother angrily drove them to bed.

"To work?"

"Yes, Sheridan. This is what will happen from tomorrow, you'll always sleep in the stable, you'll be in

charge of cleaning this house. I want the floor scrubbed tomorrow and the dishes washed. Everything

must be shiny. The baths, the rooms and every other thing I haven't mentioned. You're now a houseboy

here. Understood?"

I felt tears well up my eyes. I'd never seen someone as wicked as aunt Christina.

"I'll take those crocodile tears as a yes." she brutally grabbed me by the collar and pulled me up the

stairs to where my things and that of my dad were. She watched me pack my stuff slowly, tears

continuously flowing down my cheeks.

"You know what?" she started, "Take only two pairs of trousers, a short and four t-shirts."

I looked at her confused.

"W– why?"

"That's all you'll be needing you idiot. I'll just take your remaining clothes and that of your dad as a part

of your payments.

"W– what?!"

"Yes. You have the right to take only one thing belonging to your father. Make a choice quickly." she

ordered.

I cried and cried. Was this really happening? Where was my dad? Where was uncle Ken? I had no one

to save me.

I opened my dad's bag and took out a picture frame of the the both of us.

"Aaaaaw, how pathetic." she laughed, "Nonsense. Now get yourself downstairs"

"W– won't I take my books?"

"Books? You must be kidding. Houseboys don't go to school." she grabbed me roughly by the ear.

"Ow!"

"Shut up!"

She pulled me down and out of the house to the stable where horses stayed.

"No horse stays in this one. This will be your room." she laughed and pushed me into the cabin.

"Sleep tight. But don't forget you have a lot of work tomorrow."

I watched her walk away, heartless. That night I cried and cried in the hay and midst of animals.


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