"Mr. Adigun, where are you going?"
The words stopped Theophilus Adigun in his tracks. He turned around slowly, dreading what he instinctively knew was about to happen.
He had been in the process of packing his briefcase, ready to leave. Now he was face-to-face with his boss.
"Sir?" He asked tentatively.
His boss, Mr. Thompson, sighed dramatically.
"Mr. Adigun, what about those reports I asked for?"
Mr. Adigun glanced pointedly at the clock on the office wall clearly showing it was closing time.
He began cautiously, "I thought we would handle that tomorrow—"
"Mr. Adigun..." Thompson sighed again, even more dramatically if that was possible.
"Mr. Adigun, I know you are a little older, and I understand it's not easy, but I think you are still young enough that these things are not difficult to understand."
"Sir?" Mr. Adigun repeated, confusion writ on his face.
Thompson cast his arms wide, taking in the whole space. He had a long-suffering expression on his face that seemed to show just how much of a martyr he was, dealing with this.
By now, an uneasy quiet had come over the office. Conversations had stalled and all the ten other pairs of eyes in the room were on the scene playing out in front of them. Thompson knew this and he played to it.
"Mr. Adigun," he began. "You know I like to respect my elders," Mr. Adigun had seen no evidence of this but he said nothing. He knew all eyes were on him. He could feel the cold claws of embarrassment climbing up his back but he stayed still, his hand on his open briefcase.
"Everyone in this office has to play their part, regardless of their age."
Mr. Adigun stifled a sigh. He was tired of his age always being brought up. It was like Thompson had decided it was something to prod him with, and so he prodded.
He hadn't minded initially — nearing fifty years in existence, he'd lived long enough that he'd heard nearly everything that could be said to him as an insult. But Thompson had used it over and over and over again... And it was starting to prick.
"I understand sir," Adigun replied.
"I don't think you do," Mr. Thompson was not letting him off. "Look at me," he raised his own briefcase. "I am going home. Why? Because I am done with my work." He turned around in a circle addressing his audience, most of whom quickly ducked their heads pretending they were not paying attention.
"Look at Miss. Stella," he pointed at a young lady making for the exit. She squeaked at the attention. "She is leaving because she is done with her work." Miss. Stella cast an apologetic glance in Adigun's direction before scurrying out of the room. He tried to return a smile but he felt it come out as a pained grimace.
Thompson was still talking, "Everyone here does their work and leaves when they are done," he turned to the older man, "everyone except you."
"I'm sorry sir," Mr. Adigun bit the words out. They cut his tongue as they left his mouth. "You will have the reports tomorrow."
"Unfailingly." Thompson intoned. His voice was as hard as his eyes.
"Unfailingly," Adigun agreed. Those claws of embarrassment were digging into his back. If they were real, his shirt would've been soaked with blood.
"Good," Thompson held his gaze a moment longer. Then a smile broke out and he turned to the rest of the office. "Goodbye, everyone."
A few mumbles of 'goodbye sir' answered him as he left the room. Adigun could hear him whistling as he headed down the hall.
He sighed and slumped back in his chair.
One of his coworkers approached him, his eyes on the door their boss had just left through.
"Are you sure you didn't do anything to that man, Mr. Adigun?"
"Like what?" Adigun replied tiredly.
His coworker, Mr. Richard, shrugged.
"The man seems to hate you," he said.
Adigun said nothing. Despite what he went through, he tried not to feed into it. He'd learned long ago in one of his many years that not everyone who seemed sympathetic in a work environment truly was. Some were just waiting for you to say something they could report back or gossip about.
He didn't think Mr. Richard was like that, but this was an old habit he was not about to let die.
"It's fine," he said simply. He could feel the eyes on his back as he turned in his chair to face the mountain of reports.
He sometimes wondered if he'd truly done something to Mr. Thompson. For some reason, ever since Thompson had been transferred to their office, he'd had it out for Adigun. He did seem to hate him. Was it just because he was the oldest in the office? Did Adigun remind him of someone he disliked?
Adigun tried to put these thoughts out of his mind. He glanced at the clock — it was 4:05 pm. The sooner he finished the reports, the sooner he went home.
"Give me some of them," Richard said.
"Don't worry," Adigun replied automatically.
"Don't be stubborn Mr. Adigun," the younger man replied and grabbed nearly half the reports before Adigun could move.
Adigun felt a pang in his chest. He cleared his throat and got to work.
An hour and a half later, Richard stretched wide. The office was empty except for the two of them.
"I think that's it," he yawned.
"Thank you," Adigun said, his voice carefully even. He was tired but grateful.
"No problem, sir." Richard smiled. Just then, his phone rang. Adigun glanced at the screen as Richard picked it up. It was his young wife.
"Honey potato," he grinned in Mr. Adigun's direction.
"Don't honey me," Mr. Adigun heard the reply clearly. "You only call me that when you've misbehaved. Where are you?"
"I'm on my way," Mr. Richard rose to his feet, phone pressed to his ear with one hand, he grabbed his bag with the other and waved awkwardly to the older man, who waved back with a heartfelt smile.
"I'm on my way now, sweetheart," he said as he left the room. "I know, I know, just give me twenty minutes," his voice filtered back to Mr. Adigun who smiled slightly before turning back to the papers before him. Due to Richard's help, he was almost done. He had only a couple left.
Less than twenty minutes later, he was finally done. He stood to his feet and his back cracked. He sighed in relief. A glance at the clock told him it was almost 6 pm. He sighed again, tired and sad. This was not what he'd thought his life would be. When he was young and he'd laid in bed, dreaming the dreams of youth, this was not what he had envisioned.
He made his way out of the office to his car.
"Oga, nah you dey work pass o," the gateman greeted him. "Nah you dey always comot last."
He smiled a small smile and waved at the young man. If only he knew...
Out on the highway, the sky above was starting to darken and car headlights below were beginning to come on, shining their challenge to the heavens.
Mr. Adigun drove in silence, not even the radio was on. After the day he'd had, he didn't much care for cheer.
His mind kept going back to the events of that evening and how everyone's eyes had been on him. He knew his boss did it intentionally and for this exact reason. It still hurt. He did his work when he was supposed to. He never slacked, he never faltered. Yet... He sighed for the umpteenth time.
Just then, a car, moving at full speed, cut in front of him, nearly crashing into him. Adigun slammed on his brakes and his horn at the same time.
He could hear laughter and music spilling out of the windows of the car ahead of him.
Anger boiled through him, overflowing as expletives as he leaned out of his window and shouted at the car now ahead of him.
"Oga shut up jor!" The driver replied casually, eliciting laughter from the other occupants of the vehicle.
Adigun lost his head, "Your father is a bastard! Who should shut up?! Abi you want to run mad ni?"
The car driver's reply was to smile, wave, and roll up his window.
Steam nearly escaped Adigun's ears. His veins popped where he gripped the steering wheel. He was so mad.
The traffic had slowed and he contemplated coming out of his vehicle and approaching the other car. But then what? Get him to apologize? Fight him?
Adigun sighed, his frustration eating away at him. The traffic eased up again and cars started moving. Adigun's decision had been made for him.
He rolled slowly along, eyeing the car in front of him, muttering to himself.
Finally, the traffic eased up enough for them to go faster. It was dark now. Adigun sped down the highway, lights cutting through the darkness. He probably should have been more careful, but the knot of painful emotion in his chest needed release.
A few turns later, he approached his house. As he neared the building, his lights illuminated two figures standing outside, waiting.
They started jumping as his car approached. He could hear incoherent shouts issuing from them.
One figure tried to run towards the car but the other, bigger, held the first back.
The lights came closer and showed the figures clearly. They were his daughters, his girls.
"Daddy! Daddy!"
The grins on their faces as his car approached and parked beside them sent a shard through him.
As the engine shut off, one of them opened the door and launched into him, nearly knocking the wind out of him.
"Daddy!"
He adjusted his body and pulled her close.
"Me! Me! Me too!" The younger sister shouted.
Adigun freed an arm to take her in, holding both of them in a tight embrace.
His eyes stung as he held them. Then he pulled them away so he could look at them.
The pure joy on their faces at seeing him hurt and elated him at the same time.
The cracks in his soul slowly patched up, and the cold claws in his back slithered down.
He cleared his throat, "Go and tell your mother I have arrived."
The two girls jumped out of his arm and ran back towards the house squealing for their mother, telling her that daddy was home.
Adigun choked back a chuckle that turned into a sniff. He blinked repeatedly. He could feel his eyes stinging.
This was why he did what he did. This was why he went out every morning and why he came back.
Mr. Adigun sat in that car for several minutes after, composing himself.
Eventually, he stepped out of the car and shut the door, making his way into the house.
