"Tell her; we have arrived.", David Kufu commanded the bartender. I had never been to a shebeen or whatever the place was. Therefore, it was difficult to tell whether the place was packed, or, had only been due to a special occasion. "This place allures all whose desires outweigh their principles", said a voice. I turned around to see where the voice had come from. "Jk? Are you, alright?", asked Makela who was concerned.
I turned to her, "did you hear that", "here that? Here what?", asked princess Ngoma persistently. "Spooky...", I confessed. "Spooky", echoed the voice, this time the voice came from everywhere. "Please join me... I insist", said the voice. I turned around in search of the owner. A young lady at the far end of the bar next to a window stared at me while she gestured to a seat, either seat on the opposite of the table shifted backwards at her will.
The bartender, who looked fretfully at David Kufu, informed us that the Queen of Trade would see us shortly. "My mistress would see... see, umm... see first his highness. Sorry... his supreme highness", she shifted uncomfortably. I and David Kufu, causing her to jolt, "Kemite Supreme highness, first...", she managed. David Kufu and princess Ngoma disappeared through the threshold leading to the unknown.
Apart from the 'You Only Live Once' people, which, I am positive were not part of the furniture. The bar possessed an eerie presence. Nothing about the place appeared typical. The bartenders were drop-dead seductive, the lights were hypnotizing, the interior of the shebeen faded into incessant, albeit, the wall would appear upon deep concentration.
In novels, this would be the perfect joint for supernatural beings; vampires, demons, Tokoloshi and so forth would probably come to get down here.
The music was of a genre of its own kind... I was instantly tugged forward, like, street view on Google Earth on one of the vacant seats the young lady offered. "I dislike repeating myself", she said flatly. I and Ta-hawa wondered as to how we got to the vacant seats. "The Western world has obscured most into the ideology of Me and coincidence. There is nothing such as coincidence", she began. Oh no, here's another mambo jumbo talk, I thought to myself.
She moved forward with her hand on the counter in all fairness. "Lord Kufu... do you actually believe that you would have found the Holy Grail if you had not left the train station two years ago.", she made a valid point. "To cut to the chase, all this brought us here to this moment, for what?", asked Makela. "You...", the lady pointed at Makela, "Will lose the one person you hold dearly just when you have mustered the courage to confess your love. You will find comfort in arms of the enemy and restore the memory of who is half to the dynasty of Kongo", prophesied the lady. I turned to Makela who was in absolute confusion though she had done her best to mask her bewilderment.
The lady now turned to me in rather profound concern. "You on the other hand are void...", "void?", I asked, mildly offended. "Void. Your future is uncertain because you are void. You wield the weapons of an Apostle. You have mastered the arts and skill of an Apostle", she spoke as if in a daze. You possess the insight of ancient Apostles who once fed on knowledge and wisdom yet Your heart feels it is in the wrong path.", "so?", "So, you are void", concluded the lady.
The lady smiled bitterly as if she knew that there was the solace that could feed the void. I have spent my entire life moving from one point to another, like an old newspaper which the owner had found no value and saw no need of it. To the streets upon the stride of the wind.
To some days she would breeze blissfully and send a Samaritan my way. At others, harsh and mirthless guile that even those in the luxury of their comfort saw themselves as brave could not fathom. I have never given value to my life, I am that old unwanted newspaper moving upon the stride and temperament of the wind. It is not self-loathing, nor low self-esteem. It's just what it is.
"There is something familiar about you", said Makela, "we have not met before", "true...", shrugged Makela. "Wait. You are right... Makela the last I felt like this was on the mount...", I stopped. "Wait! No! No...", bewildered Makela. The lady was no ordinary human, in fact, she had not been human for over five hundred years. "Ekundayo...", I muttered in disbelief. "She... it was not a prophecy! You cursed us...", argued Makela. Ekundayo smiled mirthfully as if the revelation of who and what she had done had sucked the entire air out of space. "Console yourself in such thought, still and all, as it is written it must come to pass", she said flatly.
"Adelaia. You should find a pleasant way to administer your prophecies", said a voice I knew too well. "You insist on calling me upon something I'm not", scold the Queen of Unseen. "Follow, my darlings", Mami Watta ignored Ekundayo. We followed her through a hallway, past an open space, through a door that gave way to a gambling band of whatever they were. Pass a public toilet that had the sign "other", I suddenly felt the need to inspect the term.
"What's 'other'?", I asked. "You know, cutie pie, curiosity killed the cat", said Mami Watta as she led on. "Yeah, but it didn't kill the negro", I argued. "Come now dear, you still have to find a way of making that box appear before we reach our destination." Oh, busted. I had completely forgotten about the box, stupid me. "Anansi..." I muttered, "any day now, will do just fine", I proceeded in muttering. "What's that hon?", asked the Queen of Trade. I did not reply.
A voice asked me to stretch my hands, Anansi's voice. I followed his instructions and the box materialized. "I know, I know, that was smooth, son", whispered Anansi. Mami Watta stopped and turned, her smirk gave it away. She was either kin to the box or Anansi. "Come along, my darlings…" she led on. We approach what I believe would be the farthest place in the house which, was amazing, because it looked nothing more than the typical liquor joint from the outside.
"Ta-hawa?", "I am okay...", she answered quickly. "No, she is not. Women are insecure around me, hon. Especially those who have fallen... oh here we are my dear sweet Apostles", with the flick of her finger the box floated to her. Simultaneously the abnormally large oak door opened giving way to a room filled with treasure.