The Sponsor

Fred

Fred was in their parents master bedroom. His room had a balcony and it's own bathroom but their parents bedroom overwhelmed him every time he entered it.

The big windows, the thick drapes and the humongous king-size bed smack in the middle. But even the king-size bed faded in comparison to the plush leather seats at the fireplace and the cream fur carpet that Mzee Ajabu had brought back from Turkey. The master bedroom was out of bounds to them but he often found himself wondering there.

He was now in his moms closet rummaging, opening and shutting drawers. There wasn't much to write home about only dresses that a woman in her early fifties would wear.

There were a few seqiun dresses, fur coats and a white, black and red chupala for occasions. Most of which she was rarely invited. Mzee Ajabu with his archaic line of thought probably thought her presence would sour his deals.

He looked through the shoe rack. Her mom had invested in flats. Nothing fancy, no brand names just Bata ngomas and more nondescript rubber shoes. He opened some more drawers and closed them in frustration. He couldn't find what he was looking for.

He had seen his mom stepping out before with that golden necklace and bracelet encrusted in diamonds but now they were nowhere to be seen. He left her moms closet for his dads banging the door behind him.

His dads closet looked like something out of a GQ magazine. There were boxes of shoes that were yet to be opened and custom made suits that had just arrived from the dry cleaners. He realized while riffing through that he was simple yet elegant. On the corner was a safe. He made a mental note to research on it later.

He did not search for long before finding what he was looking for. His dads collection of watches. Two Patek Philippe's, a Rolex and three Bell and Ross watches. 'I should probably just take one,' he thought for a split second before taking all of them and stuffing them in his pockets complete with their cases.

A minute or so later he was in his room hiding the watches form sight. After, he looked for his phone. He couldn't remember where he had placed it. He beat his front and back trouser pockets in small sporadic movements murmuring, 'Oh shit, oh shit.' He overturned his bedsheets letting out a foul smell before finding it under a bag of half eaten crips. He picked it up and dialed Josh.