Absolutely baffled why Max was in ecstatic mood, he followed him downstairs to the kitchen. His younger brother whistled a local ditty, holding the shoes on both hands as if they were presents for a royalty.
“Did you not see him last night?” he asked, curious if Max experienced the similar nightmare he had.
His brother placed the shoes on the sink and began polishing them delicately with a cotton rag. He was oblivious of Wilson’s presence.
Wilson touched him on the shoulder.
“What’s that?” Max asked, taking off his earphones. “Did you say something?”
Wilson repeated his query, with more emphasis on the word ‘him’ to make his point clear.
“Can we not talk about that? You’re scaring me again.”
“I just want to know. You still have a chance.” he begged him to reconsider. “I am going to school in a few minutes.”
“Go then!” Max replied. “I’ll give you a call if there’s something wrong.”
– 0 –
Back to his former anonymity, without his ‘rare’ shoes, he was again at the bottom of the barrel. Even some of the girls who noticed him while he was still in the news were now allergic of him as if he was contagious with a deadly virus.
“The shoes changed my life for the best,” he mumbled to himself. “But it also made my life hell at home.”
Sonny, who was envious of his shoes earlier, was surrounded by his elite group, admiring his most recent possession he received from abroad.
Wilson passed them quietly, without the importance they showered him unlike when he wore his popular footwear. He felt rejected especially when Sonny increased the speaker’s volume of his sparkling new IPad.
“What did I do to deserve this?”
He sat dejectedly on the last row, the place he detested all throughout his school life. It would seem he was destined to be forgotten like fleeting memories no one would care to remember.
– 0 –
At the football field, where he usually passed his time whenever he skipped classes, he walked toward the bunch of students, acquaintances from different classes. They were having an animated discussion.
“What’s up, guys?” he asked, startling them because of his quiet entrance.
“Have you heard? They found the missing feet!”
Wilson was definitely interested. He lorded it over from that point onward.
“Did they find the shoes?” he asked, partially nervous for even asking.
“No! Everyone’s hunch was correct all along. Someone took them.”
“Do they have a suspect?” he asked, linking the pair who sold second hand shoes for a living.
“The police stopped the investigation. Those feet are more important to the relatives.”
Yeah, the spirit would be pissed, he thought. That left his brother as its target.
“Poor man!” Wilson sighed. “Already dead and yet robbed of his possession.”
Everyone looked at him with a puzzled look as if he said something insensitive.
“What? Did I say something wrong?”
They started kidding around, enjoying the moment, watching Wilson’s complete innocence.
“Are you dreaming or something? Who told you that the victim was a male?”
“I assumed,” he stuttered. “Riding a motorcycle? At night?”
“Well, you’re absolutely wrong!”
Wilson needed not hear the rest of the story. In an instant, he visualized his brother walking proudly with his shoes.
T H E E N D