Ex Vivo (#2 EX TRILOGY)

Chapter 1

The voice of the priest echoed through the 700-seater Catholic Church auditorium that Saturday morning as he repeated the same question the seventh time. The congregation was slowly finding the scene unsettling, and they desperately wished that whoever had decided to hold the loop button down would just do them the favour of turning it off to free them from the nuisance of listening to the same thing too many times. For the first time in seven years since that parish had been established, never had the grandeur of the arched ceiling, gigantic stained-glass windows or classy polished mahogany pews been denied the usual admiration from guests than this moment, all because there was something that seemed to be off at that moment of the ceremony, and it had stolen everyone's attention.

An old lady seated on one of the first few rows leaned over to her right and asked a younger gentleman in a whisper, "What seems to be the problem, young man?" The gentleman who was busily chatting on his smartphone decided to ignore her, but the old lady impatiently grabbed his left forearm with her wrinkled hand and pinched him, startling him and making him glare at her. She frowned at him and repeated the question.

"I don't know," the gentleman replied in an agitated tone. "I decided to stop following when I realized they were wasting time. The man should just reply and get on with it."

The old lady scratched her nose and asked, "Why isn't he saying 'yes'? He is troubling the priest. This is the most uncomfortable wedding ceremony I have ever attended. It wasn't so difficult for us during our time. You people are just conceited and foolish. You rush everything and buy everything that seems to be smart, fast or hastily prepared. I don't blame him. I am sure there is another woman elsewhere. I am so sure."

The gentleman snorted. "How can you be so sure? Are you a member of this parish?"

"No, I am not. I have grey hair. That answers it all."

"What do you mean?"

The old lady smirked. "It means that there are things that only the aged and wise perceive, and that is something this young generation will spend a lifetime to catch, but it will be too late by then. Mmm?"

The gentleman put his phone away and folded his arms while staring at the old lady. It took him by surprise that he had failed to notice her rather expensive fashion he never considered for a woman her age. "What is it that you see that young people cannot?" he asked with mockery in his voice.

The old lady took off her square rimmed glasses to wipe the lenses. "What I am about to do is going to distort your definition of old age, but I do find some of your ways quite entertaining." She replaced her glasses, opened her furry purse and pulled out a fifty Ghana Cedi note. "I know this is a church, but trust me, this building is full of more hordes doomed to condemnation than the nightclub."

The gentleman blinked. "That is a very harsh thing to say, Maame."

"I am not your mother," the old lady replied curtly.

"Well - I call my grannie by that name because we picked it from our mothers when we were little. It's stuck - "

"I am not interested in your family history. Enough of that. Let's bet." The old lady grinned, and the gentleman saw about four golden teeth in a glimpse before she pursed her lips shortly afterwards. "Fifty-fifty. I say the groom's got another woman showing up pretty shortly. Are you in?" The gentleman frowned and stared. The old lady chuckled. "Come on, my boy. I know you are a church boy, but just this once. I want to prove to you that old age has its benefits. Trust me. Come on." She folded the note and ruffled it between her fingers tauntingly. The gentleman looked around him, and when he realized most people were busily watching the scene at the pulpit, he shrugged in consent. The old lady smiled. Both of them turned to watch what had silenced the entire congregation for the past five uncomfortable minutes.