ESCAPE

Chapter 5 A

I felt home at the parish house, laying in the tub with my head below the clear warm water. I could see clearly at that moment, it felt I was drowning the poignancy of separation in that little pool of warmth.

It all came clear to me now, the attackers were not mere robbers, no no no --- they were killers. Their mission was extermination. To completely obliterate the entirety of the Rodney family, that was why they didn't go for anything else. Nothing at all. They just went for the kill. But the fire, why the fire? To make sure the job was done maybe. But who? Who would want us dead and why? All I had were two names. Chima! Mike! Two of the three, but they had not completed their job because I was still alive, but that meant I was in danger. The media might had gotten it wrong, all three were not dead. I was still alive and someone knew it, the killers knew it, they saw me escape and must be looking for me.

I sat up and got out of the tub. My mind raced as I desperately tried to remember their faces, they didn't have masks on, just to show how sure they were of themselves. The memory of their faces was slowly fading away but what I could never forget were those eyes, those dark broken eyes that knew neither pity, remorse nor fear. Those eyes which I believed could induce fear on even the bravest of minds.

I never wished to see these men again except behind bars, not even in my dreams. Whatever reasons they had to kill us I did not care to know I just wanted to go far away from there and that was final.

'Knock! Knock! Are you okay in there?'

'Yes, I'm fine. Thank you.'

'Okay, just wanted to tell you breakfast is ready.'

'Okay, thanks. I'll be right out.'

'Okay.'

That was Wole, Father must be at the table waiting for me. I got up quickly and wiped my body dry. There was a T-shirt and a pair of trousers on a stool close to the bed. I quickly put them on and rushed out. I walked past the hallway to the sitting room and found Wole sitting on the couch with the remote in his hand watching the sports channel.

'Hey, Alex.'

'Hey, Wole.' I replied bewilderingly.
He quickly got up and offered me a seat.

'Hold on, I'll bring you your food.' he quickly rushed to the dining room and brought me a plate of beans porridge.

'Thank you.'

I didn't know if I should be shocked or pleased at this display of kindness from this dude notorious for his not so good behaviour. I just sat there and ate quietly.

'Hey Alex,' he said again.

'Hey Wole,' I replied. It was obvious he wanted to say something but wasn't sure or just didn't know how.

'Um, I am sorry about my behavior yesterday, I didn't know about your parents.'

'That's Okay.'

'I have no idea what it feels like to lose someone, but I just want to say I'm sorry and that I'm here for you if you need anything.'

'Thank you.'

'So how are you holding up?'

'Quite well I should say. At least I have a new shirt and some nice beans porridge.' I replied, making an attempt to be funny.

'Ha Ha Ha haha... ' we both laughed.

After a few more jokes and some sharing of mutual views we finally got along. We spent the next half hour chatting about stuff we would not talk about on a normal day. Soon he was telling me about himself and his family. Turned out he never wanted to be a priest, but rather a footballer but his parents would not let him. Wole's father was a profound Catholic, apparently he always wanted to be a priest but did not have the opportunity. So he did all he could within his power to get his son in the seminary. He had given his own name to his son 'Wole' probably so his son could be the man he could not become himself. But Wole was tired. He was tired of trying to be who he was not.