The Inbound Fates

Chapter One

George

“Hello,” I answered the ringing phone and picked up my pace. I had faced some troubles in finding the right location but now I was aware of where I was going after asking about. It didn’t sit well with me knowing that I’d kept my client waiting. I’d rather be the one waiting for my client; first impressions meant a lot to me.

“Are you having difficulties finding the place? I’m not a good map-giver so I wouldn’t be surprised to know I confused you rather than direct you.” The client sounded sheepish on the phone and I was glad he wasn’t ditching me for being late as I expected of him.

“I’m sorry to keep you waiting, sir. I am almost there.” I replied and turned my quick pace in a light jog.

“Where are you? I will just come and pick you up.”

“Thank you, sir, but I am almost there. I am a few houses down.” I assured.

The call ended after assuring my client a few more times. Ten minutes later, I entered an open small gate to what I assumed was the location my client had given. A young man was sitting on a tree trunk and from the murmuring heard; I deduced he was singing along to the music blaring on his smartphone. I cleared my throat when I realized he wasn’t aware of my presence as I stood before him.

“Mr. Chibwana?” The young man asked and I nodded. “Thank you for coming. Mr. Jere recommended you with high points and I trust his judgment. I understand necessary greetings were done on the phone and now we should get straight to the reason we are here.”

“I’m glad you took Mr. Jere’s advice about me. I’d like to see the reason I’m here as well.” I replied and the young man nodded and led the way.

We climbed the stairs to the front door of the beautiful house but alas, if I was drinking something, I would have spat it right out in horror. The front door had a steel door that was poorly produced. It barely reached the edges of the supposedly door flame. Some of the weld joints were already disconnected. The young man didn’t have to point out the problem as I approached the broken steel door. The door looked like the welder was welding without measuring tools as all angles were unequal and it wasn’t in a rectangle form.

“What’s the story here?” I asked, curiosity rearing its head.

“I was living in South Africa and I sent my big brother some money to buy me a house and this is what he bought me. Some of the windows are in bad shape too but I think others can simply be maintained. You should go and take a look around then tell me what you think.” My client explained and I nodded.

The walk around the house took about half an hour as I debated with myself in giving points if a window deserved maintenance or not. The other steel door leading out of the kitchen in a backyard was slightly better but the designs were that of a bad quality. There were new designs in town that were trending and for a big house like this to have old fashioned weld designs would be bad. If my client had only bought this house then I assume he had no idea of where the welder who produced these products was. I really would have loved to meet him and exchange a few words.

“-no, I’m fine please don’t come now. Just come home early and we can watch that movie we have been rain-checking.”
I stopped a few steps away, to give my client some privacy to his call. He laughed and said something before ending the call with a smile. He looked at me with a questioning gaze and I approached him to give my assessment’s outcome.

“I’m going to be honest with you and you can make the decisions.” I said bluntly and he nodded for me to go on. “Some of the windows are maintainable but I don’t like their designs and the same goes for the steel kitchen door. I suggest having a complete makeover for the windows and doors but I can also maintain those that can be maintained and replace the damaged ones in the same designs but like I said-”