There we were at it again. Just two months ago we were here at it again.
“Five hundred! Five hundred! Who….”
“I have one thousand!”
A crowd cheers and more money is bid on my parents’ lifetime investments. I shouldn’t have been fazed by it. What did I expect, after months of pleading and my father being shafted by his business partners, the directors were out for blood. Property was going to work. My father once again, poor judge of character, shady deals and overzealous investments.
“Here goes another two years of school!” My brother croaked. He was a 16 year old in primary school, his voice was broken and had awkwardly sharp shoulder blades piercing through his torn cardigan. The ill fitting cardigan was threading at the waist and sleeves, Zini looked like he ate through it. His socks were torn and my pinafore had been stained so many times by the red army, I looked like a butcher’s aide.
We had past the point of resentment toward our father, Zini and I, he had chased mum off with his half brain ideas always costing us everything. Zini was trying standard eight for the last time hoping this time that there would have money for his exam. That was what kept him out of 4 previous primary certificate exams. Not like teachers cared, the school was pleased to have us, they liked the money.
Mum wasn’t a saint either; she had rushed off one evening with Melio the gardener and had two children. She was happy, she enjoyed being a house wife. It was only a matter of time before Dad’s settlement money was consumed by the lavish life she was used to with a man of meager to no means. Melio believed that God blessed people with children and it was God’s responsibility to raise them. His job was to produce. The end. He never worked again; he just sat there barking orders.
Dad turned and apologized at the auction. I really didn’t care much for it. You see he’s been doing this for 7 consecutive years. Just when the day had ended and we were glad that we could still live in the house on the cold floor. Dad got another half brain idea, this time he was going to sell a 200 year old iron and bronze anklet my great great great great grandmother wore for initiation that was to be given to me when I hit puberty. That is when I decided it was time to face my Dad, either that or this time it would be a burial and not an auction.