The Turbulence✔️ (#1 in the Our Side of The Dice series)

6: The Employee

Christopher
Bonn Prison, Germany

I am sitting on a small-sized bed in a German prison, and I look like a hopeless rogue who met his nemesis.

The only difference is, I am none of those things. I am a businessman. A man who runs a bakery with lads in his employ. A man who is supposed to be at his work location, conducting a business meeting with his employees, not waking up to gray walls, unpleasant-looking toilets, and bloody mosquitoes that are miraculously able to decipher which inmate is new or old.

The other jailers seem used to the system. It's either they are used to being bitten by mosquitoes, or the mosquitoes didn't bite them at all. Still, it was easy for that little beast to feast on inmates that did not look haggard like the others!

That old woman! She's the reason I'm here now. She's made such ridicule of me. Why on earth can I ever be here? I never visualized myself being in a prison cell.

After the whole feud at the alehouse three days ago, the old German lady had pulled me out of her alehouse in my nearly naked state. It was only the blanket I'd snatched from the room that stayed lowly around my waist, shielding my unmentionables from public view.

It was unbelievable to see how furious she was. I had no other option but to beg her to let me put some clothes on. She was more than willing to drag me bare to the police station!

I was silly enough to think I could talk her into letting me go so I could pay for her damaged property.

"Please, ma'am. I'm so sorry. I will refund the money. Please, you can't drag me to jail like this, " I cried that morning as she dug her hand in my belt buckle, pulling me out of her alehouse.

"You don't mess with my property, young man. You have to suffer, and I shall make you pay dearly for it!" she yelled over the blasting sirens of the police van that had arrived for me.

I've been in here for three days, disobeying the most crucial law of business — the golden importance of time. I've been sitting in this prison doing nothing while my employees are busy with what is left to do. They are waiting for me to give my next orders. They don't know that their boss is in a prison cell.

This is a stain on my impeccable white garment. I can't help but wonder how my wife or stepchildren will feel if they saw me like this. If Yemisi learns that her husband is a violator of the law, I know she will be embarrassed.

What will I tell her was my reason for vandalizing someone's property? That I woke up naked in a scattered room, smelling strongly of alcohol because I'd been wasted the previous night and I'd let another woman kiss me senseless?

I begin to visualize her dark-colored eyes cloud with pain and utter disbelief, her left little finger twitching, and the constant furious biting of her plump lips. Then that laughter proceeding from her lips— the straw that broke the camel's back. That laughter scares me more than a financial loss. It makes me wish she would cry and yell at me instead.

Visualizing these things in my head makes my heart pound painfully. I bury my face in my palms, clenching my fists tightly till my palms hurt incredibly.

I have to get out of this place.

This small room, guarded with thick iron bars, a small hollow square for a window, letting only a tiny ray of light illuminate the room. This small room where everything was timeless, day or night, never mattered because it went by unnoticed. You only sit here, aimlessly awaiting an acquittal that might never come.

It is maddening to wake up to nothing— nothing but a cold room with a hard bed, peeling walls, and lousy inmates from other cells. If I am unable to make a call across to one of my employees today, then there is no doubt that I'm going to run mad because I've been making several requests to a particular white-haired police officer in this prison to let me make just one phone call.