Journey in the Offing

3915 Words
One Journey in the Offing Tile woke up with a start! He kicked his bed-cover vigorously to unleash from its entanglement. The chilly harmattan breeze had made the night unbearable. Even with his thick colourful duvet, the cold was quite biting!! And those nightmares… those nightmares were something else entirely. Although he had been forewarned about these nightmares, he never thought they’d come with such horror. Such intensity. In the night, it had seemed as if he’d never wake-up alive, but here he was. Thank God the rites were to be completed today. As far as he was concerned, this was to be his day. He fancied himself a butterfly that would be born from its cocoon at the end of today. The maggot would successfully transform into a blossoming colourful butterfly, free to fly the atmosphere with audacity and confidence. But as he washed himself in his uncomfortable lavatory, a pang of nostalgia hit him. Suddenly, he began to doubt the whole process and second-guess his bidding. Or was it just too good to be true? He wondered. Even as he had been careful with the seven-day ritual which was to be completed come midnight this day, he began to be anxious. As if something otherworldly might just hurl a wrench into his carefully executed ritual on this very last day and things may just go topsy-turvy again as it had been the trend in his life all along. Tile had suffered too many set-backs in his adult life more than even he could count. This had made him wary of even beginning any venture again until now. The witch-doctor had told him that he would recover everything that he ever lost in his life, once the ritual was completed. For the first time in many years, he was believing in something or someone once again. Not so much that he had reaped from the process just yet, but everything the witch-doctor told him would happen had already did happen. Just two days ago, as he rose in the night to take a leak in the toilet, he saw a white misty apparition in the corridor. He had almost scampered for safety but he had regained his courage and stood his ground, having remembered the warning that he was given, never to be afraid when it happened. In fact, the apparition was supposed to appear to him the previous day, and he had readied himself for the experience but he had not seen anything all through the vigil he kept. So when he woke up the following day, he again began to doubt if really, this ritual would come to any good. But the night of this following day, the apparition had come. He had stood rooted at the spot until the faint figure gradually diffused into nothingness. The suddenness of the experience had made him forget he was going to ease himself at all and he had returned back to bed, thinking about what had just happened. It was on this day that his hope came back to life. He had then felt certain that he was finally set to get out of this quagmire. But today was different. As he finished in the lavatory and dragged himself with heavy feet back to the bedroom, the sting of nostalgia and trepidation still registered on his mind. He decided that coffee might help, so he dragged back his lead-heavy feet to the small kitchen and made himself a mug of coffee. Momentarily it did help. The caffeine had traveled immediately to his brain, and he felt somewhat refreshed. But this feeling…this unusual feeling, it was still there. So he sat back on his bed taking his coffee, cogitating... How come he was still rooted on this spot after ten years? Everybody complained that his apartment was no longer befitting his status, that he ought to be living in his own house already. Even he knew this. But what status was that? He was still unmarried, still unemployed after twelve or so years of graduating from the university. Even his small consulting business was seldom getting clients. Not that he was not capable, not that his proposals to corporate organizations and Government parastatals were not brilliant enough. It only seemed as though no one felt the need to look in his direction. Or whatever it was the case. There was a confident knock on the door. He got up and was surprised how swift his legs had become after the coffee. He crossed the living room and got to the door. “Who’s there?” he asked. “Jennifer,” answered a chirpy female voice. “Oh, Jenny it’s you.” He opened the door. “I knocked earlier but nobody answered. I thought you had a girl,” she said with a smirk. “A girl? No. I had a late night.” “With a girl,” she insisted. “No, I was working on the PC.” “Well… not convincing but good enough.” She surrendered. Jennifer was Tile’s neighbor. She fancied him really, but Tile always seemed to have his mind occupied with other things. And perhaps for those inexplicable reasons, he never seemed to notice her. Those around him never really knew what those reasons were, but were certain his mind was always loaded. Even he never knew exactly. But somehow, he was always occupied in mind. He didn’t have a regular job, so it could not be job-related worries. And these proposals he wrote, he always did from the comfort of his living room on his Personal Computer. If it was about marriage, then here she was all single and lonely and ready to mingle, and just a flat away. There was a time she had gotten drunk after a late-night party and had deliberately forgotten her door and came straight to Tile’s door, fumbling her key through his keyhole until she drew his attention. When Tile opened the door, she had walk in as if her key had somehow done the magic. She had begun to pull her clothes and litter on the settee as if she were all alone in her living room when Tile suddenly called her attention. At that moment, she had begun pretending as if she was too drunk and about to collapse when Tile rushed and held her and carted her to his bed. But when she woke up the following morning, she was still in her tight jeans trousers. And she had done nothing to hide her obvious disappointment. After the mournful experience, she had kept her distance for a while before she started interacting freely with him again. That was about a year ago. And although they were now talking freely to each other, she never really came into his apartment again until today. What was she up to? Or was it the mega sign he was said to experience on this last day of the ritual? “How’s your day gonna be like tonight?” Jennifer asked with an air of seriousness. This question came like a dagger to his heart. Tonight of all nights? “I have an appointment, I will be busy”, he answered curtly. But Jennifer did nothing to beg his curiosity; she just went on as-a-matter-of-factly. “A friend of mine is coming to town today. He is a businessman in Singapore and he wants to have the services of a consultant to start-up an IT factory back home, and I would want you to take this job, that’s what you've been looking for right?” “Bloody-hell! Who told you that’s what I’m looking for?” Tile said, making an effort to sound nonchalant. But to answer his question, Jennifer pulled on the lapel of his pajamas and drew him closer to a kissing proximity, her eyes all set with seduction and charm. Confused, and his heart beating fast, he heard Jennifer saying: “I have been your neighbor long enough to know that you deserve better and want something good started for yourself, and I know I’ve always wanted you for a partner and I think you know that too. So you will take this consulting job so we can both have our heart desires. I will come back and give you the details by afternoon. The meeting should be by 10:00 pm. Actually it’s a party, and you will have all night to discuss business.” As Jennifer said this, she looked him deep in the eye and released his pajamas, creeping out as if to avoid further argument. As she shot the door behind her, all Tile could do was stare in amazement and try to come to terms with the fact that the latest scenario was indeed real and not some imagined phantasmagoria. Instead of being happy, he was left in a dilemma. This was clearly the monumental sign he was told would happen. Jennifer, all so direct and to-the-point today and offering him a job he knew would set the pace of his life finally. But how could this be possible? He was to complete his spiritual task by midnight. How could he manage the dual-pronged situation? After a while of thought, he decided this was the time to man-up to his responsibilities. Somehow, he had to create a way to make both events happen. After thinking a little more, he decided he had to talk to the witch-doctor before Jennifer came back with her new found authority. Was it new-found really? Everyone in the estate knew Jennifer for her audacity and daring. Most people detested her because they mistook her daring and boldness for been cheeky and arrogant. However, most who had related with her closely knew she was tender at-heart and full of emotion. Sometimes, her anger came as a result of loneliness and frustration for being without a partner. At thirty-five, she was worried that her value in the marriage market was fast running out, especially in this part of the world. Although she did not have a defined job, she was doing fairly well as a single lady. Her flat was well-furnished and she drove a very good Toyota Venza. She had a commendable enterprising spirit. Whatever she put her hands to became profiting. In fact, she had a Midas touch. But many people knew she was a big pimp in town, having done big-time prostituting herself. Not that it mattered, because most university students began prostitution in school these days just to live a posh life and buy high-class gadgetry. It only depended on who got better and bigger customers. And it appeared Jennifer had been fortunate. These days, she had clients she would go the campus to hunt girls for. Or that may have been the gossip anyway, because her real business was a cosmetic shop down the street, outside their estate. Tile had always known that Jennifer desired him. But he did desire her even more. Her beauty was something to behold, not to mention her shapely body and thick hips. When she was not chattering in her usual manner, her beautiful oval face looked enigmatic like the Mona Lisa painting. But Tile didn’t want to go with a woman who was living far above his status. That thing about status again. And he always hoped he could have enough just to make him worthy to have her. Little did he even imagine that a day would come when the convivial Jennifer would walk up to him and make an open demand of his person like she just did. But she did anyways. He went into the bedroom and picked up the phone to call the witch-doctor but decided against it on a second thought. “I ought to see him in person”, he thought. So he dialed Kennedy’s line instead. Kennedy was what Tile could call his closest friend. They had been friends since they met in a transit bus five years earlier. However, Kennedy was younger than he was. But one striking quality Tile enjoyed about him was his quick mind which made him to have answers and solutions to any problem. And he seemed to know more than his age permitted. Ken, as Tile liked calling him, was a software engineer and doing well at it. He had three cars and living in a duplex of his own. Oftentimes, Tile used one of his cars to drive around, when he didn’t have time to drive Tile himself. Kennedy in turn never left hold of Tile because he used to do a lot of research and writing for him. Tile had written the proposal for the mega project he was currently working on to design and launch a database grid for the Federal ministry of information. Out of goodwill, he had decided to link Tile up with one or two clients for consulting jobs, but unfortunately, it always turned out bad. In the end he stopped trying. So it was a few weeks ago that Kennedy decided to approach Tile from a whole different dimension. He knew it would be difficult but he had to try. Although Tile was no active Christian at present, his Christian upbringing made him to quickly wave away whatever discussion that took the form of African Religious practices and witchcraft. As they shared a beer together that evening at the park, Kennedy began telling him of how a spiritual curse had tied down his own family for generations until his father had taken him to a witch-doctor shortly after his university. He explained how the man had prepared potions and elixirs which he took to dispel the stronghold of the spiritual curse on him. Initially, he thought Tile would argue that it was all gibberish until when he finished his story and Tile started asking interesting questions. Soon, they had come to a conclusion that they would see this trado-priest. Although the one who had worked on Kennedy was back in the village, there was one, just outskirts of town whom Kennedy knew and decided they should check out. According to Kennedy, he was really good too. When they met with the wizard seven days ago, he had conducted a soothsaying exercise during which he told Tile that he was under some spell from which he needed to break away. Otherwise, whatever he did may just end up falling back flat to his face. According to the wizard, the wife of his father’s elder brother had conjured this spell and vowed that nothing Kennedy and his siblings did would come to any good. All three of them, he and his sisters were not to marry and procreate, and having success in terms of wealth was not even to mention. They were to be permanently stagnated while the uncle’s children excelled. This was in fact the case. His two elder sisters all had children out of wedlock and were training them as single mothers. Whom these children belonged to, no one knew. But they certainly were not of Tile's patriarchal lineage. He, Tile, had never married, even though he was now thirty-seven. Though exceptionally brilliant at whatever he did, he was always living paycheck to paycheck. And for a freelancer and small-time consultant, this was indeed difficult. For the fact that he had been through the university had been by the grace of God and sheer determination. Meanwhile, his uncle’s children were there in the village, uneducated but living the life of their dreams. Building houses and driving cars from their successful trades. So when the witch-doctor known as Ortwar, told Tile these things, he confirmed them in his mind and decided to play along a little more. The wizard told him how to break the spell which would in turn benefit his sisters as well. That was the day they had begun the ritual. He was given potions to add to his bath water for seven days. A cleverly wrapped, small clay pot was also handed to him to bury in his backyard by midnight of the first day. He was given four new candles; blue, black, yellow and red of colours. With these candles, he was to light them in his living room, placed in a diamond shaped position and to sit within the axis of this shape for ten minutes with his eyes closed, meditating and making wishes for whatever he wanted, in his mind. He was to continue this exercise for four days and on the third day, an apparition would come to his house. He was not to fear. This apparition had answered his prayers and was going forth to do his bidding of whatever he had wished for. He had also given ten-thousand Naira for other preparations which the priest explained how he was going to carry them out by himself, even as Tile went on to do the others. He was to return on the seventh day by midnight for his final task. Kennedy was already waiting in the living room when Tile finished taking his bath. He rushed and got dressed and they hit the road. They drove to the outskirts of town and turned on to a dirt road until they came to the compound of Ortwar, the priest. Ortwar was gathering herbs in the backyard and made no show of surprise seeing them that early. He was an old man in his seventies, eighties even. Or perhaps his constant communion with the spiritual realms made him look older than his actual age, but he was indeed frail-looking. And he had this quick bladder that made him excuse for urine almost every fifteen minutes thereabouts. Every strand of hair on his body and head was white with forceful age. He dropped his herbal paraphernalia and sat on a wooden chair with frailty as he motioned to the two to seat on an empty bench nearby. “I knew you would come,” he said with a knowing in his tone. “I told you everything would turn out good. The offer you are getting is one that will take you out of this country at several intervals and you would live the life of your dreams.” “But the meeting is by mid-night the same time I am to come for the final task,” Tile cut in. "That is what worries me." “You will not be coming for your final task, you will be going for your final task,” Ortwar corrected. “I do not understand sir.” For an answer, the old man struggled up and went into his rickety old house. He brought out a heavy-looking brown skin bag which seemed to draw his energy even more. As he sat back, he fumbled into the bag until he brought out a funny looking calabash. It had never been carved. It was only a handful and in the shape of a phallus. Two old rusted keys were attached to it and it served somewhat like a key holder. A few carvings were done on it and some cowries attached round its base. “Look at this,” Ortwar said. Both Kennedy and Tile drew in a closer look. “This is called the abedegȏdo. It is the key to every spiritual portal, and is used for traveling too. People who do not understand our craft call it igirgi I mbatugh, but it is different. Igirgi is used by malevolent witches and wizards for the same purposes, but there are some portals it cannot open. But this, the abedegȏdo is the master key. It counters the igirgi at every level and is only of the benevolent Order. We are an ancient Order charged with the benevolence of making the human spiritual order right and apprehending wrongdoings,” the oldman added. “Okay, so how is it used?” Kennedy asked, more out of curiosity. Tile was thinking. “This key is for traveling”, the oldman pointed as he spoke, “and this key is for opening portals.” He again fumbled in the bag and brought out a metal box. He opened it and brought out two potions carefully wrapped in paper. He handed them to Tile. “Take these,” he said. “Indicate 'water' on this one and 'grave' on that one. Take the key. Even if you came here by midnight, this is what we would have done. But because you have a meeting, go to your meeting, by the time you finish, anything after 12:00 by midnight, you are ready to move. I know that there will be a party. So by the time the party is gay with dances and celebration, step out and find an isolated area. Remove all your clothes including your underwear and be stark naked. To make sure nobody stumbles into your clothes, clutch them under your armpit. Hold unto this key, this is the one for traveling, then say: Ikputu my master, take me to a grave. Say this three times, do you understand?” “Yes sir,” Tile said, trying to sound calm. But the oldman noticed his uneasiness. “Do not be scared”, the old man said, “you seem to be one who takes instructions seriously, therefore, if you do it right, you will be alright. As soon as you complete the third command, you will be transported to a grave. The grave could be anywhere in the world. As you get to the grave, hold unto the other key, that one is for opening portals. Then say, Ikputu, open this grave. Immediately the grave will burst open, but do not be afraid, whatever you see. Use your left hand and drop the potion you indicated 'grave' on it into the grave. Then say, Ikputu, close this grave and take me to the sea. As you are taken away, whatever you hear, DO NOT turn to look. Soon, you will find yourself by seashore or on a bridge. Turn and face the direction which will put your right hand to the water, drop this remaining potion and again command Ikputu to take you back to where you started. Twenty minutes will be enough to finish these tasks. As you return back, get dressed and go back to your party. Everything is set and all you have lost shall be restored starting tomorrow. But do not forget, whatever you hear as you are transported back from the sea, do not look back, because the spirits will escort you half of the way, and they do not like been seen. If you have any questions, you could ask.” Tile asked a few relevant questions and was dully clarified. The old man charged him again not to be afraid, that he was going to be fine. They drove back to town, silent most of the way, then Kennedy said, “but you never told me there was a breakthrough underway.” Tile chuckled, apparently pleased as he narrated his experience in the morning with Jennifer. After a few naughty remarks by Kennedy, Tile returned back to his mind. He decided to go home and remain indoors until Jennifer called back.                       
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