Vices

As Thomas awoke from a recurring bad dream, a groovy headache throbbing in his head, he instantly felt the gravity of the day ahead, so with one sharp maneuver, the bed sheets flew behind his bed and then scuffling, he crawled on his knees towards the wooden drawer and examined the pack of cigarette inside which he had kept, in immense satisfaction and fervor, the night before yesterday. Today is the big day, the words repeating in himself over and over. A wry grin crept on his face as he cupped the pack of cigarette in his hands and skimmed through it's soft rectangular edges, and devoured his senses of its damp and stiff aroma, almost as if in a passionate dream, like a little boy who had just been given a brand new bicycle for a birthday present. Inside, the room was quite small and swollen, a decrepit bed lay in the middle of the room, an opened cabinet and clothes hanging all around, a heap of plastics, papers, books and useful garbage. Although for Thomas, this room was as spacious as a meadow and as comfortable as a lavish hotel room, for not only had he been living inside it for the last 6 years, he also did not know of any occupant who could have adapted of it's rich dank and heady smell other than himself. It was quite dark as well inside, though one can already sense the early morning's humidity peaking from the outside, for had it not been for Thomas' insistence to keep all the windows shut and the thick velvet curtains tight and unwashed for God knows how long already, the room would have been a bit more pleasant. He had been wanting, planning and waiting for months, this final engagement that could change his life has finally arrived. Thomas was about to step out into the dim lit corridor after finishing with all the preparations and rituals for the day ahead when he noticed, there right across the narrow hallway stood The Chief, leaning on the master bedroom's door, looking down at him. "Good day Thomas" said The Chief, arms folded over his chest and a foot against the bedroom wall- the air of jovial enthusiasm in his voice sickened Thomas' almost obviously. 'Good morning Chief' replied Thomas without moving, his eyes stooped on the floor as if in a trance. 'Well, go ahead now, don't forget my breakfast and, to feed the dogs ey,.. and don't hesitate to do good Thomas. always do what's good.' remarked The Chief without budging, his arms over his chest and face straight as ever. The Chief said this after a long stolid uneasy silence had passed between him and Thomas. Thomas really never understood this remark of The Chief every morning before he sends him off to work, he has this way of speaking to Thomas that's bit quite obscured and strange for a boss-employee acquiantance, and to think that they go to the same workplace almost everyday. Thomas always thought The Chief to be a nice and reasonable fellow though, at least as a whole, well, if he had thought otherwise, he couldn't have lasted a single year the least, working for The Chief as head supervisor in that wretched old warehouse of his, let alone to be The Chief's personal minion, taking care of the house, feeding the dogs, feeding The Chief himself, cooking, an unending array of chores of both relevant and irrelevant value makes up the entirety of his every day. But certainly, he would have loved to have it differently, if only he had not been born unto this invalid life he's in. He used to be fond of thinking of himself that if he had it to decide, he'd judge himself as the lone master of the house, and The Chief, for his beloved servant, but the thought didn't really appeal very much for him he realized later. But then, what can Thomas do with all those luck, both good and bad, turned against his side? There's nothing left for him but to earn a living out of this monster and try as hard as he can muster, to keep all struggles to himself for his sake, so he'd be able to continue on these constant petty work he's gotten himself into. But then, there's no telling the difference between his life's condition back home and here in the town. Down here for him, there's no such thing as family, he need not have a family around- a mother and a brother- to emphatize of his sorry situation every time he comes home from work, but that would come as a rarity of course, for they never really did think of Thomas in a member-of-a-family way. Thomas even found it the more interesting and sweet without the family around his place of work; no nagging mother whenever he would do some thing that opposed her present mood and frame of mind; no cry baby little brother who could not do anything, even the littlest of thing, without help- things that even a little giddy girlscout of half his age could do. It's better this way he thought, the only duty he had to act upon on a family basis was to mark a piece of paper with a pen in the downtown money agent every end of the month and that's it. But this arrangement has got to go too, he said to himself, soon when i'm done with my engagement, then a little later he thought well, he'd probably send them one last time, a bigger amount, a whole lot bigger, and that would be the last, he concluded to himself. THe sight of the town started to seem to look quite busy from inside the car as it hit the last turn towards the warehouse.