The Devil in the Den

"You lousy piece of garbage!"

Neil emerged from the blue door staggering. His head was bobbing from the huge brown box he was carrying. He almost tripped when he reached the counter but he was able to regain his balance by abruptly putting the huge carton down.

"Now, you almost cost me ten thousand pesos!"

"Sorry, Uncle."

"Bah!" Mr. Jardeleza snorted, "You have always been a useless bum. If I had other choices, I wouldn't be asking you to help me around here."

Neil pretended to fix the receipts on the table near him, not looking or paying any attention to the blabbering of his old shriveled uncle. He was already immune to the old man's constant rants. He hesitates to waste any time pleasing a menopausing loon where there could be no possible way of doing so. Everything had to be in the proper place, and if any case a slight instruction would be altered, Neil would expect a thin mustached man tailing his back.

His Uncle Pat is the only brother his mother had. And of course, as the only son in the Jardeleza family, most of the fortune his late grandparents had went to his Uncle. After Neil's parents died in a car accident, Paterno Jardeleza claimed custody for Neil since he does not have a family of his own. The moment Neil stepped into his uncle's life, things were never easy. The old man was obnoxious and he has a certain way of uttering words for the purpose of dismembering an individual's motivation; in other words, he was rude. He likes to harass people in their weakest. He pries on people's life like they were his own. He torments them with discouragements and later, uplifts their failures. He was a mean wrinkly, old man, with a catlike piercing eyes making him an epitome of a creature in the dark. He was, to Neil, the devil mortalized in human form. The devil. His Uncle Pat never hesitated to use the name. He always tells Neil that he was the boy's devil resurrected.

"You imbecile," a familiar croaky voice shouted from behind.

Neil turned, prepared to receive another barrage of words.

"You did not list the price order for the new internet café in Monte Street! Now we don't know what to deliver there."

"You told me yesterday that they were unevolved human species that do not know how to make business. So I assumed that we were not going to take their orders."

"Next time, don't assume. Ask," Uncle Pat retorted. He took off his tinted wide rimmed glasses while lifting his pants with his other hand. He has this habit of pulling up his loose slacks even if they were high enough to split his pelvic bones into two. He turned and sauntered towards the wooden door in the corner of the counter. That door was a mystery to Neil. Nobody was allowed to enter it except those who are invited. Sometimes, Neil would try to take a peek on what is inside but even the slightest glance of its interior would result to capital punishment. His uncle was very particular in closing and opening the door.

The chimes of the main door of the shop sounded. A small fat man, wearing a white collared shirt entered. He went straight towards Neil with his folder bag secured in between his upper arm and the side of his chest.