As the sun embarrassed the arrogant nimbus clouds, it took a toll on my migraine. I drew my hand over my eyes hoping the car would run faster than the sun rays.
“What’s happening?” Pastor Man asked.
“The sun; it’s making me dizzy.”
He pulled over. “Sit in the back; it’s shaded.”
I made my way feeling spoiled. “Tell me about your brother?” He added.
“I don’t know much about him. When I left he was a toddler… Sometimes I miss him and sometimes I hate him for stealing the spotlight. Only Dad truly loved me.”
“How did he pass?”
“He was sick for two days and then he passed. The doctors couldn’t diagnose a thing.”
“It must have been hard.”
“It was… I read some things in your diary. Have you forgiven them?”
“A long time ago; they’re family. They are my people. How can I hold a grudge so long? God hates bitterness.”
Suddenly, my head hit the back of Pastor Man’s chair as the car screeched to a halt.
A group of boys came from the bushes with cutlasses and axes and sticks. It was barely noon—the boldness. We watched as they stealthily surrounded the car—red eyes piercing through as they examined the inside. They were six in number.
“Grand commot motor.” One of them said in Cameroon broken English hitting the bonnet with a stick. “Na which woman that for back?…commot!” His hoarse voice dissipated my migraine as did the site of his riffle hanging from the side of his trouser.
Pastor Man and I came out of the car.
“Grand give we this your small woman make ee stay with we…” One of them slanged and the rest laughed.
The guy who stood closest to us tried to touch me but Pastor Man held his hand before he could.
“Boys. I’m a Pastor and this is my niece. We have urgent business to do in town. We would be glad if you let us go back into the car and be on our way…”
“The economy is hard man of God.” The riffled guy said.
“How much do you want?
They burst into laughter. “You get sense pastor.” He tapped Pastor Man’s shoulder. “We don’t want your church offering…we want the car. No be so boys?”
“Na so.” They said unanimously. The stench of tobacco was frightening.
“You can’t have the car choose something else.”
“The girl.” A shy looking guy with a familiar demeanor said from the back.
“You can’t have that either.”
“Why you exchanging words with this false prophet. We have the weapons. Get the girl and the car. We don’t have all day.” The riffled guy said.
“Boss we have to respect God. Ee talk say ee be pastor. Make ee give thing wey ee get am.” Another with striking long beard intervened.
“Are you questioning my authority?” The boss vibrated.
“Sorry boss… whatever you say.”
“Pastor, we set before you life and death choose life; that means walk away without the car and the girl.” The boss said.
Pastor Man chuckled. “I am offering you two hundred thousand francs ASAP. If you let us pass.”
“You are in no position to bargain with us. Move or I blow your head.” He pointed a gun at Pastor Man.
“I put before you life and death choose life, by walking away. My angels don’t have as much patience as I do.” Pastor Man said. He was too bold. Provoking a gun man wasn’t the best idea.
“We are the hunters; you are the prey, pastor; give us the keys”
“Boss, we go…don’t play with God.” The bearded guy insisted. But the boss smote Pastor Man on the cheek with the bottom of the gun. “Turn the other side Pastor.” He sneered.
“Brandon. How is your mother’s condition?” Pastor Man asked.
The boss' jaw dropped; fear oozing from every facial pore. “Who told you my name?”
“You sacrificed your mother and now you regret it. You know she is dying but there’s nothing you can do about it.”
“Shut up preacher man. You don’t know me. I’ll pull the trigger.” He yelled.
“You don’t have the guts. You’ve never wanted this kind of life. What are you doing here? Go home, make things right with God; He is willing to help you and your mother… Your father never blamed you for what happened that time. You know what I’m talking about right?”
The guy began to shiver until the gun dropped from his hands.
“Go home Brandon.”
The boss ran into the bushes and the rest of his confused gang followed suit but before they could get lost in the bush,
“You…with the black hat get into the car.” Pastor Man said to that shy one. Strange enough the boy left his awestruck company and got into the car. I just watched completely befuddled at the dimension of God Pastor Man exhibited—it was like a movie.
Pastor Man held the steering a while taking mighty deep breaths before he started driving. It turned out he was scared. Was he?
“Son, what’s your name?”
“John.”
“John what?”
“John Tegah.” I froze. It certainly was a coincidence. He had my brother’s name.
“John, Lead us to your house.” Pastor Man said.
“Why?”
***************
God bless you 😇
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YOU ARE READING
OPHELIA
General FictionThe seed of revenge in OPHELIA TEGAH blossoms as she unexpectedly found her self in the hands of the ghetto after a traumatic childhood. Can she find the satisfaction she desires or how many more people have to suffer?
