Chasing the Fantasy ||Completed

CHAPTER 6: The real deal

Joe started making loud claims. Claims of going abroad with the aid of angels holding him up high, claims of bestowing children and healing clinical incurable illnesses. This grabbed the attention of many and his church exploded.

A group of people, he surely did not want to ruffle feathers with, became curious as to what the hell he was saying. They included an inquisitive ambassador who had given him visa to travel some time past, a stony- hearted chief who had orchestrated the bizare endings of two false prophets and Kennedy, a ruthless politcian and member of parliament of one of the most populous constituency, who would stop at nothing to sniff the truth out. They had yet to strike because to them, he was like a noisy housefly buzzing all around but so short-lived. If they were fully aware of how sinister his modus operandi was, they would have perhaps issued a warning already.

As could be predicted, women who yearned for children flooded his new church. He sold bottles containing the holy grail of pregnancy to aspiring mothers at exorbitant prices. He did this with good intentions. More often than not, women who are dealing with infertility stress so much that the stress ends up further aggravating the problem. What he did was like a placebo used in clinical trials with no effects. It was all psychological!

The silent treatment in their household blinded Nancy from noticing any obvious shenanigans that Joe was involved in. She rarely accompanied him to church of late. When he did speak, it was out of absolute necessity. They were practically breathing fire.

Once Stacy visited, the fire was partially quenched; all the loneliness and uncertainties escaped. She brought a kind of joy that only a newborn could bring.

"Nancy, you are taking forever In the shower!" shouted Stacy as she sat at the edge of the bed watching The Mowry Show which was not particularly her favorite, but she did enjoy it anyway.

"Showering takes time Miss," responded Nancy.

She used two towels: one for her hair and the other for the rest of her body. She then splashed a generous amount of lotion on her luscious skin.

"You have impeccable sense of fashion. I have seen this jacket and skirt a thousand times, but never even thought of pairing them. You are like the Miranda Priestly of Runway magazine."

"Don't mention it!"

"So how's marriage life treating you?" asked Stacy.

Nancy changed the topic quickly like a formula 1 driver making a sharp turn.

"How is college? Word on the street is that you are dating an Arabian prince," said Nancy as she blew her invisible trumpet.

Stacy like an opposing formula 1 diver made a sharp turn and proceded to overtake. With both women dodging each other's questions, it looked more bizarre than normal.

"Stacy, I have got exhilarating news. I am working on my first album. I signed the contract couple of months ago."

"Wait, you don't say! Hurry up, tell me all about it on our way to the restaurant."

Stacy locked the main gates, then sat at the front passenger's seat. "Honey, put your Seat belt on, safety first." Stacy always protested putting on her seat belt as she felt that it was the white man's clever way of squeezing air out of our lungs.

They went to Papa's kitchen- the coolest and newest restaurant in town. Since, they were regulars and knew almost all the delicacies offered, they avoided looking at the menu all together and ordered their favorite, ghanaian jollof with salad and crab legs.

Nancy told her everything, leaving nothing out, except the fog around Joe recent behavior. The fact that Stacy and her family did not attend Joe's church was in a way a sign of relief for Nancy. At least, those old nosy old women would not be spreading any rumors to Stacy.

All throughout their lunch, Stacy had noticed how emotional Nany reacted to the simplest of gestures: her eyes welled up when she saw a mother giving a cone of icecream to her son, she was sweating more profusely and her breasts looked more heavy.

"Nancy, are you pregnant?"

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