Benedicta and the hidden seal

Is that a bird’s s**t?! She almost hit the brakes but then, she was driving in the night. She had to be security alert. Her eyes flicked to the rearview mirror as she hit the wipers. She knew there was a car ahead of her. A cool Black Rolls-Royce. But she never thought something from there came out until a man's head leaned out from the passenger’s seat of the car in front of her. Moments ago, when she left the club, the loud music began to fade from her mind and she wondered what she was also fading from? She had barely taken notice of anything expect the city lights that glowed in rows as she drove fast, hiding the darkness that plagues souls. Her soul. Who would ever think a respectable Clergy’s daughter was coming back from a night club. She had lost it. Completely. What was she thinking! How would it stop this nagging, unyielding sense of emptiness she had been feeling inside? In a few days, she would be thirty-two. And being unmarried doesn't bother her as much as everyone assumed. Marriage wasn't the ultimate thirst she wished to quench; rather, she craved a reason for her bizarre gift. She dreamed everything and it would happen just as she saw in her dream. She throttled on. No sound, just the hum of the AC. Still pondering on a lot. That's when something smashed on her windshield like a dissolving cake-icing. It definitely wasn't a bird’s s**t. The man’s head that popped out from the car was black and it wore a priestly collar. “Jeez! Don't tell me that was what I think was on my car!” She almost screamed. Suddenly disgusted. A puke from a Rolls-Royce?! The Rolls-Royce slowed down and a hand popped out, waving. It was the driver's hand that popped out. Most importantly, she saw that it was a white hairy hand that popped out. She guessed it was a foreigner's hand because it was more white than usual. “Good.” She whispered knowing that they were also coming from the club. Most white men she knew loved Nigerian clubs. The hand kept waving until she slowed down too and pulled over. Her car window stayed wound up and her feet were still on the throttle. The car pulled over in a safe distance and the owner of the black head came out. A black priest! She noted. Maybe they weren't from the club then. So, she watched him approach her with a few light steps. Was he drunk? But he was very good looking with his well trimmed hair, clean shaven face, and well built like a gym guy. She honked and flashed the headlights in an attempt to show that she was okay. She made a move and the man held up his hands, keeping a distance. What a reality call from her sulking! She had wanted a night away from her troubles. Since childhood, her dreams had a disturbing habit of coming true. And she loved God. That's non-negotiable. But why not live life now until marriage or whatever she was born to do comes knocking and this loneliness left her behind. Now she was spiked up in a night tension looking at a priest! He had stopped walking. She glanced through the rear view mirror, no car behind. Good, she can go, she thought. She pulled out again the second time, but the man blocked her way. She honked louder and more annoyingly now. She wants to be alone, safe in her world, without dangerous interruption. The driver came out abruptly. She assumed he was getting upset too. ‘A white man?!’ She noticed. It wasn't safe for him to come out in the middle of the night in this area. White men are considered easy targets and quick money for kidnappers. And this one is here unchaperoned. In a second she noticed he was blond and also had perfect features like the priest. But unlike the Priest, from afar, there was something striking about him. She hated herself for noticing this in this dangerous spot. And she immediately warned herself that he could be the devil himself in angel clothing. He started coming towards them to take his seemingly drunk priest back to the car, she guessed. She waited and watched both men in indistinct chatter. The black priest seems determined to stay. The white man was gentle but his firm face showed her that he was persistent. She glanced at the rearview and observed the cars driving past them. She also felt that determination to leave as she took a risk and wound down the window and screamed, “Please, move! I need to go pee!” She lied. “I - I was saying I'm sorry!” The priest screamed back. Both their voices echoing through the chilled cold night. “And I didn't know…hic….that you-u were a f-female.” was delivered in that fractured, accented English that made her winced. What sort of English was that? She blinked. Not knowing if she should be confused by his stuttering grammar or his explicit accent. The white man gazed her way as though trying to capture her face. This made her uneasy. “It's not safe.” She yelled. “Please, move! I'll have no option than to hit you!” She glanced behind her to check that she wasn't being ambushed and honked again like crazy. Now she was more worried about her safety and she felt relieved when other cars honked back. “I am a priest!” The man yelled. “You can say that…” She muttered holding back a curse because he was a man of God. Or so it seemed. She just needed to get out of there. “P-please, let me wipe that. I am going to come closer now. You can see w-we are in the open and cars are passing. But it's not safe to drive with a bad windshield," he offered. She wound up and he took that as a yes. The white man, who had been silent all long, went back to the car and brought out a box of wipes. She pressed the central car lock immediately. Thank God her car was bullet proof. As both men came closer, she sent her location to her parents. She then glanced up and despite herself found something staring. The serene blue eyes that looked at her through the screen. Calm. Unblinking. His lips were set in a hard line. Yet, she knew that he couldn't see her. He scrubbed the screen vigorously and intentionally while, amazingly, the priest who offered to do the job stood there, transfixed, and glared at the stars like he was dazzled by them. He was saying something inaudibly but the white man never responded. She watched them from inside the car. What's it with these two? She had never felt a thing for white men before but this one undid her. Like, she had seen him before. Then she remembered. The club! The white man with great cologne she had bumped into while rushing to leave the club. That cold glare when his drink spilled on her. She jerked back to reality. Was he following her? Like in the movies, you find a nice girl, you follow her? Was this all it was about? And a priest involved? Oh gosh! She sighed and honked longer this time. The screen was looking like blurred cream but she decided to manage. Besides, she needed to get away from there. The white man pulled the priest away back to their car. She rolled down to say thank you but paused when she heard the priest arguing with the white man. “I feel it's okay. She's a lady. It can't be fine.” She also caught a whiff of that cologne. Yes. It was definitely him, she agreed, as the smell of the cologne overlapped with the smell of the night air when she rolled down the window. A few minutes later she was driving away. She watched the rear view and noticed them tagging along behind her. Before she could turn her eyes back to the road, she heard a loud thud on her windshield this time causing a spiderweb cracks. She pulled the brakes and the tires squealed. A quick glance made her see four armed men stationed across the road aiming to shoot. She didn't know when she screamed “Jesus!” *****