As I entered her sanctuary, my heart leaped. Adanna was by her desk, holding the pen. What better way to kill a writer than putting poisonous gas in a pen? Once she bends over to write with that pen, it would release a poisonous gas from the top.
I moved to her hoping my facade was blank. "That's my grandma's pen, only use on special occasions." I slipped it from her, grateful that she hadn't engaged it.
"It's my birthday, how much more important can it get?"
"Your wedding day?" oops just slipped.
Unexpected silence hung above, and I realized I shouldn't have said that. "Maybe when you are starting your next book." I suggested instead. With effort, she flashed a smile.
"Come," she motioned to the plastic chair and sat. "Continue your story." she crossed her legs.
-Ronke continued, she didn't stop. Some days, she faked being ill, so she can be home when I return from school. I never gave in until four years later, on Christmas eve. The house was dazzling in lights, and a huge undressed tree was mounted beside the flat screen in the parlour. Uncle Tunde was yet to return from where ever he went to, and Ronke was out buying stuff from the mall.
My academic lecturers were on break but, Ikogin, my karate master wasn't. Surprisingly, he didn't make it today. I was currently at the backyard, on the trimmed lawn, doing reps of push-ups with two fingers on each hand. I switched to one and arced down ten more times. When I reached failure, I pushed one more time, vibrating as I arced down, then sprang up with the agility of an antelope. My watch began to beep just right after. I finished my reps earlier than Ikogin's timing, and I did it on a day he wasn't around.
I stood up, moved to the corner and retrieved four Kunia knives; clipping each one in between my fingers. (two on each hand) I loosed the cloth around my wrist only to tie it over my eyes. Taking steady breaths, I calculated the exact spots four dummies were randomly mounted. I hurled diagonally and one knife left my grip, then the unmistakable sound of it piercing wood followed. Whirling on my heels, I hurled before me, hit! I hurled by my side, hit! When the last knife was about to leave my grip, I heard stealthy footsteps around the corner, so I hurled in that direction. "I have learnt your steps, old man." I knew he caught it.
"Me old man?" his voice was thick and slow. I heard his stealthy footsteps lunge towards me. I held my breath to heighten my hearing. Starve two senses and the surviving ones panics. His first attack was a right swing; I felt the breeze coming. I easily ducked. Predicting his next attack to be his knees lunching to my face, but it was a skull-cracking elbow that crashed me to the floor. I removed the blindfold at once. His smiling face was blurry.
He gave me a slight slap. "Shake it off."
"That's one hell of an elbow Oldman." I took his hand and he assisted me up. I massaged my head. "What's happening? Why are you dressed like that?" I asked, noticing his effort to look presentable. His grey hair was on the greater side, and it was properly combed. Quite rare.
"It's Christmas," he adjusted his flowered shirt that was tucked in black trousers and black swayd shoes. "My wife is also here," Ikogin said, "your uncle invited us to dinner."
Still soaked in sweat, Ikogin guided me toward the back door. Once I passed the threshold, I saw-from the Corner of my eye- a fist lunching toward my face. I stopped and revved backward, watching the fist pass before me. So many things I could do to you, uncle, I thought.
"You missed again?" Ikogin shook his head.
"He has gotten better," uncle Tunde playfully hit my shoulder. "My chances are getting thinner every day. Go freshen up and put on those shoes I bought for you." uncle Tunde hit my back as I ran out. Over the years, he has taken me as a son. (one he tried so much to give a blow unawares)
I did as I was told. Hours later, after we must have chatted, and laughed over memories, we sat on the dinning, occupying the whole sits now Ikogin and his wife were present. steaming hot food sat around the table; from crabs to vegetables, beef, and turkey. While we were eating, uncle Tunde raised his glass and toasted to long life and many more Christmas to come. Then his wife said, "Honey, why don't we tell them the Christmas story?"
"The Christmas story?" Ikogin asked, but it sounded more of a murmur. He swallowed and asked again. "Christmas story?"
"If I must," Tunde said, "I should be in the traditional costume."
I knew what he was talking about. Since my arrival, every Christmas, uncle Tunde told a story wearing a white hooded, ankle-length jalabiah that flowed over his legs, completely obscuring them, giving the impression that he was gliding. According to him, the stories were improvised, but they felt like something that had been traversed through history. Then again, I remembered my mother was a great storyteller, which I think she passed down to me. It did run in the blood.
"Uncle your costumes are in the Ikeja." I stated, remembering where we spent Christmas last year. The same house I met a diverse group of people that my uncle told me were my cousins. For unknown reasons, I never stopped being the weird kid.
"It's almost 11 p.m." Ikogin looked around the table, and for some arcane reason, the room was quiet. "The traffic is down. Jyide!" Ikogin called abruptly. Him saying my name with that tone made me tighten up. Increasing the sharpness in his voice, he continued, "I have a mission for you-your first mission." He paused, scratching his grey beard. "Drive down to Ikeja and get those costumes..." he didn't even finish talking before he broke into laughter. Everybody followed.
Uncle Tunde started singing my name while taping the table. "Jyide! Jyide!" Everybody joined in. They tapped the table as they sang my name in unison.
"Okay, I would go." I said and they all yelled. "yaay!"
"As bonus," uncle Tunde said, "you can take the Mercedes."
"Uncle, no you dont-"
"It's Christmas son," Tunde interjected. "Flex now you can." he winked.
"Jyide can you pick up..." Ronke was saying but froze mid-sentence. "Don't worry," she pushed her chair back and motioned up. "I am too embarrassed to tell you. I will join you." From what I saw, she was ready to go, clad in a blue tracksuit and trainers. And nobody protested.
"What is it? am sure I can help-"
"I am sure you don't want to know." Ikogin's wife interjected. She was looking much older than him. "Us women like certain things to be private."
Ronke walked around the table and whispered to the old woman. Her eyes slightly widened as Ronke spoke to her.
"Well then," the old woman gazed at her g-shock, "It's an hour before Christmas. Go for it."
"What's happening?" uncle Tunde demanded.
"Nothing," the old woman said. "Your wife just needs to follow the boy."
Again, nobody protested.
Inside uncle Tunde's Mercedes, I steered carefully to the right, two hands on steering.
"He likes you," Ronke said, sliding her hand on the sleek black leather seat.
I knew he liked me.
"There is an already signed adoption document," she continued. "He wanted to show you, but he mellowed, thinking you might not like the idea."
My eyes didn't tear from the vast highway. Solar-paneled street light hung above, emitting the yellowish light that washed on the asphalt. few cars passed by, but it wasn't traffic worthy.
Adoption papers? uncle Tunde wants to adopt me? "Why would he think that?"
She motioned and touched my lap, and it sent chills down my feet and made me pressed hard on gas.
"You would have to drop your father's name. And he..." she stops talking for a while. "He thought you wouldn't like the idea."
Drop my dad's name? I wasn't thinking of my dad lately. I was so lost in Uncle Tunde's love that I forgot that my parents were no more. On second thought, that's the significance of love.
The mall's illuminated billboard was in sight, and I increased my speed, hoping to drop her off sharply. I needed alone time. I drove around the parking lot for a while looking for space. It was jam-packed. Why did Ikogin believe the traffic would be down on Christmas? From my rare view, I saw a car pull out. I swiftly shifted my gear to revise, and smoothly curved into the space. I turned off the engine. She came down, then bent into view, "Were you planning on staying behind? What would your uncle think if he heard you left me to go alone?"
I shut my eyes and inhaled deeply. With my eyes closed, I stepped down, inhaling the cold breeze of harmattan that made my nose burn; for a while, I forgot it was Christmas. The enormous building shone brightly in the night. As we stepped through the sensored doors slid open, it was as if we stepped into a monster's mouth filled with bright lights. The days of Christmas played softly, and huge embellished trees flanked us at the entrance, and a big banner wishing Merry Christmas, hung across the ceiling. Ronke stepped into the aisle of shelves stocked with stuff. She seemed to know where she was going, cutting corners, and trailing fingers on the shelves. My shoulder scuffed people as I followed her; the mall was parked. Walking among these people, I felt a weird sense of superiority toward them.
When she entered the women section, I stopped and gave her the privacy of browsing the shelves alone. I guessed what she wanted to get, but I said nothing. I wanted to wrap up and get back home. Part of me anticipated uncle Tunde's story; the last one left me asking many unanswered questions. But a greater part kept thinking of what Ronke just told me.
To sway my mind from it, I browsed the shelves before me and it was stocked with diapers, and every other baby stuff there was. I started thinking about babies, and the process of making babies. The fact that I haven't been through that process dawn on me. I was twenty-two.
Someone tapped me and made me jolt out of my thoughts. "Let's go." Ronke was already walking in front.
Would I have babies? I thought as I followed her. Definitely. Definitely. I shook my head to efface the thought.
- "Could you sign this book for me?" I stretched the book to Adanna.
"Only if I use my new pen," she said.
For a while, I forgot I was here to kill her.
The orator adjusted on her sit, glancing down for a moment. This was where she planned to stalk her killer from; watching him or her ramble around until something sparked up for her. When Ruth told her that someone else had claimed William Jake's name, her heart sank. She watched him closely, Squinting her eyes to see clearly. Her heart skipped when she noticed who it was. Panic crept into her, and her breathing increased. Her muse must be playing a game on her. Since then he hasn't made a move to kill her.
"Okay fine." I gave her the pen. I was here to kill her anyway.
She grabbed the book from my hand. On the first page, she read the name out loud. "Alice John. who is that?"
To even think that the girl told me her real name was appalling. "My wife," I said and averted my gaze.
"Ehh," she poked my ribs. Again, mentally dislocating her arm, but I just squirmed. "You like the foreign girls." she had a smirk across her lips. "Why is she not bearing your name?"
"Because she is of that ideology."
"Hmm," Adanna nodded. "I see." she pressed the head of the pen. It's engaged. She placed the book on her lap, bent in, and wrote. My heart ached, and I held my breath. Beneath her signature, she wrote, break rules.
She closed the book and handed it to me.
"Now can you continue?"
I stealthily glanced at my watch. It was seven minutes passed eleven p.m. She had seventy more minutes. I managed a slight smile. I stared at her, in reality, holding my breath for longer minutes.
"What?" she had that smile that made her dimple sink. I shook my head. I continued after I was sure the gas had dispersed.
- Inside the car, Ronke didn't talk to me. She looked straight ahead and seemed to be lost in her thought. The night was Lively, and I just held brake behind a few cars stopped by the traffic light.
"I think I am-" Ronke was saying but stop when loud clash echoed; the Mercedes jerked. From the rear-view, I saw the car that just crashed into the Mercedes. I didn't want to believe it. I came down, leaving the door open, and lunged to the red jeep. Loud music was bumping from the jeep. Looking through the glass, I saw that they were ecstatically miming to the song and didn't even realize they just crashed my car.
Anger bubbled in me, and my teeth clenched tighter than normal. My fist unconsciously clenched, and before I could think, I drove it through the glass; It shattered and the bits bounced on the asphalt. The music rushed out. "Hey!" The face-capped man yelled. I reached inside, opened the door, gripping him on his collar, I threw him to the ground. He was fighting back but his hands were short and didn't make it anywhere. I squeezed on his lanky neck with hate.
"Jyide!" It was Ronke. "What are you doing?! Do you want to kill that man?!" She scurried to me. With her small hands, she pulled unsuccessfully at my shoulders. "Jyide! I am calling your uncle!" Only then did I reduce my pressure. "It's just a scratch!" she said over the pumping music, "I will tell him what happened!"
I knew what happened. I was there, I saw, it was not my fault, I know. But... I shut my eyes, pondering so many things before I gently freed his neck (I felt the pulse at his neck throb) and stood up. I straightened my shirt, then stretched to help the man up. Ronke handed him his face cap. "I am sorry!" She yelled over the music. "My brother here has anger issues!" She was talking to the lady in the car that had frozen on her seat. I looked at the man as he quietly entered his car, massaging his neck and coughing. The train of cars had grown longer behind us but no one alighted their car.
"The light is green." Ronke informs. I glanced behind the Mercedes. The fool hasn't revised. I inhaled deeply before moving to the car. For the first time, increasing my speed.
The first-day uncle Tunde drove in with the Mercedes, he called me down and showed me the car. He then handed his Kia key to me and asked me to keep it.
"This is my baby," he was pointing to the Mercedes. "You can touch every other car but not this one." He rubbed the sleek bonnet.
Three years, all I did was wash it. And the first day he entrusts it to me... I squeezed the steering, suppressing anger. Now I just wanted the night to stretch as long as it could.
"Would you have signed the adoption papers if your uncle gave it to you?" Ronke said.
"Don't ask me, I don't know." Nothing could sway my mind from the fact that the Mercedes uncle Tunde gave me was bashed.
"He said you would make a perfect son. He said you were everything he wasn't."
I kept my eyes on the road, and lips sealed.
She continued. "He talks about you a lot. And him talking about you, aroused me...a lot." I felt the weight of her hand on my thigh and it sent chills down my feet.
"Slow down, we are getting to the turn." She informed.
There was a huge roundabout that was named after my mother's grandmother. In the middle of the roundabout, was a statue of a bare-chested woman carrying a weaved basket on her head. It brought back so many memories; mostly of my mother, and the stories she told about the statue. Mama was the bridge. Soon, I was back to the house I met my cousin, Halima.
We arrived at the wide black gate. I alighted to unlocked the padlock on the gate, went through, then broke the black gate open. I pulled in under the shade of the car park, beside a red low rider.
"Go get the outfit," Ronke told me and glanced on the dashboard. "It's almost twelve p.m."
"You are not coming?" I asked as I came down.
"No..." Eyes shut, she inhaled deeply, "I want to have a moment to myself."
I closed the door and strode to the front entrance standing behind wide brief stairs. Grass sprouting from the sides of the interlocks dotted everywhere. As I got close to the door, reality struck me: I didn't bring the house key. I still double checked the keys in my hand. I sighed. It wasn't a problem, the house was accessible through the garage. Uncle Tunde didn't think much of security. I moved around the house, the grasses at the backyard bloomed. I reached down for the latch and pulled the door up. The damp smell of the garage rushed into my nose. And the ash Peugeot 505 before me flashed memories as I slid my hand on the cold bonnet, trailing it down to the side glass, as I did, I pictured Halima. That Christmas Eve, I had come down to retrieve uncle Tunde's costume for his story, but I heard muffled cries. It was coming from the Peugeot. I peered through the glass to see Halima huddled at the back seat, crying.
My heart sank. Mostly because I haven't been seeing her as one should see a cousin. When she was around me, my pulse race faster; I noticed it was mutual; the way she never held my gaze, always averting, and tucking a tuft of her hair behind her ear.
I opened the door and reached for her. Shockingly, she cuddled into my arms. I wasn't sure she felt my throbbing pulse; If she did, she said nothing.
"Halima," it was the first time I touched her hair. I pushed a lock out her face that was stained with tears. "What's the problem?"
"Nothing," she sniffled but her nose was blocked with mucus.
What I felt next was inappropriate. I shouldn't be getting a boner when my cousin was crying on my shoulder. I released her just enough to look into her eyes. Black shiny things. They pleaded with me not to leave, but everyone was waiting for me to return with the costume.
"Jyide!" Ronke voice sounded from the distance breaking my thought. I moved to the corner and retrieved a white hooded jalabiah from a brown box. I gazed at the Peugeot for a while, remembering what Halima told me later that night in the car. I clenched my teeth, pulled down the garage door and left.
I didn't punish myself by walking behind the Mercedes. I couldn't bear the sight of the bash. Inside the Mercedes, I pushed the button and the car silently hummed. With the car completely silent, we drove out. I drove ever so slowly, hoping the night would last forever. As if God was on my side, we drove into a traffic jam. Not far off, I saw the trailer that had fallen. Behind was still clear, I could have revised but I didn't. Cars rolled up behind and it became official.
"I see what you are doing," Ronke said. "The slow driving and entering this jam. You can't stall forever, you know, he would still see it."
I said nothing. I picked my phone and explained to uncle Tunde. "No problem," he said enthusiastically. "As long as you bring back my baby in one piece." The line went dead. I could barely hear him over the background music.
I made the seat fall back and relaxed. I remembered what Halima told me, and how after telling me, she leaned in and kissed me. I shook my head trying to efface the thought, but it was already late, I had a boner, and Ronke saw it.
"That's interesting," she said when our gaze met. "Is that for me?" she was pointing to it. I made no effort to hide it. (reasons best known to me) She motioned and touched it. Seeing that I didn't hit her hand off, as usual, she climbed on me and began to kiss me. I didn't kiss back. She unzipped my pants and in no time, I felt her warmness swallow me up. As slowly as ever, she rocked her waist. I knew we were obscured by the tinted glass. My only concern was the car rocking, but considering how slow she moved, I guessed the Mercedes was sitting still like every other car in traffic.
I didn't even climax before she hopped off. She made her seat fall back and laid down like nothing happened.
The silence dragged on until she said, "I thought I was pregnant." her eyes were closed, "But it turns out I am not." She brought out one of those home kit stuff from the mall's nylon and looked at it again. I didn't speak. My thoughts were colliding with each other; I couldn't think straight.
Another silence dragged out but was broken by a tap on the glass. I pressed the button that made the glass slide down, and a bearded man came into view. "Please move back, we are all revising." From my side mirror, no car was behind me, I was the last car on the train now. I shifted gear, revised, and followed another route.
On the dashboard, It was past twelve a.m.
There was little traffic here and there, but it was never anything serious.
My pulse raced-the blue and red light circling on the police car, for one, but the bashed Mercedes I drove up to the estate gate was the main reason it raced.
"Jyide," the security's voice was not ecstatic as usual. Moreover, he was supposed to be home.
"What's with the police car," I look further into the estate, furrowing my brows to see an ambulance that was parked right outside our house.
"The estate was attacked," the shiny head security said. "It's best you don't-"
"Open the gate!" Interjected firmly. "Now!"
I drove through before the gate completely broke open. Parking before the ambulance, I hopped out. Yellow tape was around our gate, and a stretcher pushed by a paramedic just rolled through the gate. There was a body wholly cover with a white sheet on it. "Wait," I held the paramedic, but a police officer held my shoulder. "Sir-" Instinctively, I broke his hand. I was immediately tackled to the ground, my hands were cuffed behind me, and I was thrown into their car.
I watched Ronke from the car, crying, rolling on the asphalt. The paramedics tried to console her but it didn't do much good. Hot tears clouded my eyes, and I raised my head to fight them back, but I wasn't strong enough, they rolled down freely.
The police drove me away and locked me in a god-awful cell. Smelt like sweat, poop, and urine. I sat, propped on the wall, my legs stretched in front of me. For the two days I spent there, I didn't eat nor sleep.
From the corner of my eye, I saw a black-clad police officer open my cell. "Stand up!" he yelled, "Someone is here to bail you! You foolish boy!" I didn't move. "Hey!" He yelled again but didn't advance to me. He must have heard what I did to his college. He locked the gate and left. A few seconds later, even before he came into view, I knew it was Ikogin: those quiet, stealthy footsteps. I sprang up and moved to the bars. He had a bandage around his neck that supported his hand. His face was bruised and eyes livid. He looked at me for a long time, understanding the questions conveyed through my eyes. He nodded.
"We would talk about it in the car."
Inside the cab, Ikogin went on to tell me how the armed robbers gain entrance into the house, asking uncle Tunde to open his safe, but he refused. How he was hit multiple times with a gun, but still managed to break one's leg.
"It was then they shot my wife, then uncle Tunde advanced wrongly and got shot too. They shot me and left, but..." he trailed off.
I said nothing for a long time. Obviously not choosing my words wisely, I asked, "Why do bad things happen to good people?" my voice hoarse. "Why do they always have to leave me?"
"We don't control these things."
"Who does?" I fired back.
Ikogin looked out the window, at the busy day passing in a blur. "Jyide our destinies have been predestined." He motioned his frail hand and gripped mine tightly. "It was just his time."
"His time?" I shook my hand free. "Who said so? Was it also Mona's time? Or my mother's or..." I trailed off.
Ikogin took a deep breath that wasn't necessary. "It's how it is. We don't question these things."
"I refuse to believe that!" Tears were rolling freely down my cheeks. "Who said it was his time? He was..." my voice hooked. "Do...do you know about the adoption?"
I noticed a slight quivery bat of his lids.
"You did?" I clenched my fist tightly.
"Can we not talk about that?"
I looked out my window at other people going about their business, smiling innocently, and living in the moment. Uncle Tunde promised to take me shopping today.
"Who controls these things?" I craned back to my grey-haired master.
"That's a difficult question...God?"
"And He doesn't think to ask the people around them if they were done or ready to see their loved ones go?"
"I can't say for sure...like my pastor always says... The heavens are high above the earth, so are His ways."
I have heard that saying one too many times. I wanted to say something, but the words couldn't find a way out. I could only ponder. If Death at the hand of an armed robber was the way uncle Tunde was predestined to die, then if I kill this driver, it was also his destiny.
"I need to get stronger." I finally said.
Ikogin nodded and said nothing else till we reached an uncompleted duplex in the middle of nowhere. The road that led there was galloped and deserted. Few uncompleted houses mounted around, but that was it. The ground floor of the building was completed and well furnished. But the outer facade was unpainted and looked uninhabited.
We didn't do much here. Ikogin laid down most part of the day. In the evening, we sat in a yogasana position and shared tea that numbed the pain, and heightened our senses. A month later, a knock hit the door. For a moment my pulse raced. We hadn't had visitors since we arrived. The knock hit again.
"I will get it." Ikogin sprang up. He had recovered but not fully. He still limped when he walked.
Behind the door was a bald man in a black suit, holding a briefcase. He sat on the floor with us. The whole time he didn't speak nor look at me. He placed the briefcase down gently.
"Won't you have tea first?" Ikogin asked him.
He flashed a formal smile. "I am in a haste." His voice was little. He glanced at his wristwatch, "I have another meeting with a client in two hours. And it's pretty far from here."
"Why don't we get to business then." Ikogin replied.
"Alright." He set the code and the briefcase clicked. He opened it and brought out a file, from his suit he retrieved a black pen, and for the first time, he looked at me. He was smallish but didn't seem to be intimidated by my size.
"Mr. Jyide," he pushed the briefcase with the file atop to me. I flipped the pages but didn't study it.
"At Mr. Tunde's demand," the bald man said, "some assets and the sum of seventy million naira should be transferred to his son."
I looked at Ikogin before I spoke, "But I am not his son."
"Before you are the legal documents that make that possible. They are already signed," he pointed to where uncle Tunde signed. "All that is left are your signatures."
I looked at Ikogin then back to the files.
"Take your time to go through it before you sign." The bald man said. He rose to his feet. "I should get going."
"Thank you very much." Ikogin followed up and shook the man's hand. He escorted the man to the door.
I moved to the glass dining and sat. I read the files, and they really did state that my surname would be changed. I slept over it, and on the third night, just when I had begun to feel the effects of the tea, ikogin asked, "Have you signed the papers?"
"No."
"Okay." He simply said and sipped his tea. I was expecting more.
"What do you think I should do?"
"I don't know... I don't reside within you." He sipped his tea again. "Seventy million is a huge amount of money."
"I will sign it." I had made up my mind, I just wanted to hear his advice.
"Is that what you really want to do?"
I was perplexed. "Don't you want me to sign it?"
"What I want, or think, doesn't matter. it's what sits well with your conscience that matters. I am just an old man. Remember?"
He was right. My plans for the future were still fogged, but I knew what I wanted to do. One step at a time. "I won't get stronger by drinking this...this...tea." I swirled the tea. I didn't know what to call it. "When do we get down to training?"
He looked around as if looking for something. "We can't train here. Besides, I am still injured."
That was true, I heard him whining yesterday as he did reps of push-ups.
He set his cup by his side, and laid down, looking straight at the white ceiling. He was silent a while then broke it, "We would leave once you decide what to do with the file."
That night, within the confines of my room, I reached inside the drawer and brought out the file. I reread everything again. After battling with my conscience, I unsheathed the pen and signed. I slowly took in breath and exhaled.
"I have signed it." I told Ikogin while we had breakfast the next morning. "Can we get started now?"
He didn't look surprised. "Good..." he nodded, "Good."
Was that all he had to say? "When do we leave?"
He said nothing.
The bald man came again. Today he wore an ash suit. Facade as blank as board. He gave me a credit card with my name imprinted on it and some files that changed ownership of properties to my name. In total, I was now worth four hundred million naira. It was like a dream. Without further formalities, the bald lawyer left.
"We leave tonight," Ikogin told me as the door shut behind the bald lawyer.
That night, with only the moon bearing witness, we entered a cab and left. Ikogin drugged me because the journey was a skip. I woke up on a bamboo bed. It creaked as I motioned up. I was in a mud house. Noticing this, I got more alert; pumped with fear that released adrenaline through my body, because my banging head was the least of my problem. The opening by the side that was supposed to serve as window was covered by planks nailed across the frame. An inch of space had been left between the horizontal boards and rays of the morning sun shone through, casting a row of bright parallel lines on the floor. I moved to the covered window and peeped through the space. Ikogin was sitting on a stone facing the window. I was pretty sure his eyes met with mine. I ducked, heart pounding thunderously. I slowly stood up and peeped again, but he wasn't there.
- The story broke off again, and my breath seized; my eyes closed, and for a moment, I was confused, not sure if to kiss Adanna back. She was a better kisser than what I used to experience. We moved to the floor and she tore off her yellow top and her breasts faced me. It cuppable with really dark areola.
The self-proclaimed assassin didn't know why, or how she became aroused. Her books always had something close to a sex scene, that was why she invited all the men today. After today's event had played out, she was to choose one to sleep with. But that won't be necessary.
After a considerable amount of foreplay, she tore off her Jean and swallowed Jyide's thickness, smiling, as she rocked her waist passionately. One minute she was going slowly, the next, she hopped up and down, breast flapping in the air, like an animal starved of pleasure. They climax at the same time; her head rocked backward and her fingers dug into Jyide's chest as she fidgeted in pleasure.
I couldn't explain it, but I didn't want to let her go. On the cold tiles, I cuddled her in a spoon, and we kept quiet. The silence stretched out enough to wear the tension off.
"So what happened next?"
"I wouldn't want to bore you with the details of my training, but some days, I would be submerged in water, punching furiously against the current. Other days I am walking on a tin rope." I told her some more inhumane things Ikogin subjected me to. Then she asked, "Where was the location of your training and why did Ikogin drug you?"
I laughed, remembering the uningenious location. "If I tell you that, I would have to kill you."
Adanna laughed. "So what did you do after your training?"
"Well, I started killing people for no reason; by any means possible. Just to pay God back for what he took from me. Starting with Ikogin. I poisoned his tea."
My hands were still clasped around her chest, and I felt her heart beat thunderously. She was scared, I could even smell it. "Then," I continued "I travelled to Benue to kill Halima's father for the things he did to her. And basically killed someone every day from that day on."
"So have you killed someone today?" her breath now increased, chest swelling to its limit and down.
"No,"
She kept quiet and spoke after a while. "I thought you were here to kill me."
Now it was my turn to be confused. How did she know that?
"Why haven't you killed me yet?" my trained ears heard the fear laced in her voice.
"You have," I said.
"What?"
"You killed yourself the moment you used that pen to write." She broke the cuddle and rose to her feet. She walked around, naked, with her hand on her temple like one checking temperature. I rose to my feet and began to dress up.
"I have something to tell you," she said.
"I am all ears." I leaned on the glass.
Adanna went ahead to tell me a very surprising story. That she was the one who ordered her assassination because she wanted her muse to spark an idea for her. She explained that the killer wasn't supposed to get close to her, that she was supposed to watch him from her sanctuary until an idea sparked up for her. Then call the police. Or if possible, kill the killer.
"Well, you have forty more minutes." I said glancing at my watch.
"I finally have an idea," she told me.
"What is it?"
"I will tell you outside." She picked her clothes and hastily wore them.
The portrait of snakes that hovered behind the desk was a door. Behind it was the open night and a metal staircase. we absconded the gallery, out to the night breeze, with the moon above shining with all its glory.
Inside my Mercedes, (uncle Tunde's Mercedes) she told me her plan. And to be honest, it was a very good one. She died before I got home. I carried her and wrapped her in a white cloth, as she had instructed. At my I backyard, I dug a six-foot grave, as she had instructed and buried her.
A year after her disappearance, as she had instructed, I sent her editor an email of a her idea, fuly flegded with chapter. I watched the editor through his frontcam.
Shock widened in his eyes and he stared blankly for four mintues before clicking. After he read through it, he couldn't wait to share it with the world and also to inform them that she might be alive.
**END**
I know this story was extremely long. But look at you, you made it! You are awesome.
Adanna was my best character writing this story. What about you?
Thanks for the support!
🐐