Chasing Annabelle

Prologue: Everything in the Palace Hostel intimidated him as he sauntered timidly in the hallways. The towering pillages, the fresh paint smell oozing off the walls, the intricate stained glass windows, the fancy crystal lamps, the marbled floor; all of it dwarfed him physically and also his pockets and his self-esteem. Among these things were also the people–the people who looked down on the likes of him as if they were bugs, such bugs that were not even worthy to be squashed under their Gucci heels. The elites of the elites, among those were the inhabitants of this hostel, which consisted of the likes of Iyke who owed him and always procrastinated payment; and among this same proportion of people were more prominent and superior folks like Honor (aka Jide), who was not expected to be found sharing the same air with the likes of him, but shockingly there he was with his signature smirk, talking to him–him–little him. But even more shocking were the things he had to say. "I can't tell you, yet." Was Honor's reply when Somtoo had asked contemplatively; "Dire consequences? What dire consequences?" There was no question that this worried him, and so during class, the following day he would think about it but only for a second, a millisecond. He would not waste time worrying about what the consequences of being a god was like when he had actually gotten the chance to be one. "Panorama Puppeteering is the most powerful tool any man alive could ever wield," Honor had said, while they were at the balcony that enlightening night. "If only man could live long enough for a thousand years, perhaps, and then he would wield this power carefully, there would be no limit for him." Somtoo had smiled at this and gazed at Honor with his undivided attention. If you have gotten this far without living for a thousand years, then you're wrong, He said to Honor, but in his thoughts. Because you're already beyond any known limit and that's the definition of a god, limitless. It was supposed to end up as the worst day of his life, or at least, that was what Somtoo said few hours ago. It had been an unrewarding day. He had lost a painting contract that had fueled the hope and anticipation of needed funds. He had walked home from the bank after finding out that he could not withdraw the last nine hundred and ninety-seven naira in his account. One of his shoes, the newest of his few shoes–got its sole ripped off after he tripped over a stone; prompting his ensuing shameful work all the way through the rowdy campus road, flapping the barely hanging sole and also causing the stirring of heads in his direction. They probably thought him a penguin, while studying his movement but it could all be in his head. Annabelle too, had seen him, or at least he thought she did, and when he shyly brought his hand up to wave, she spun and walked away like she did not want anybody to assume she was his friend or even knew him. He did not blame her; he wouldn't like to be seen with him either. He had come looking for Iyke in the Palace students’ hostel, because Iyke owed him six thousand naira after the last painting job he did for him when he moved into the lodge initially. He had located Iyke at 07:00pm in the evening, but Iyke pleaded that he wait around, so that he would rush to the ATM and get the money; but it had clocked 09:00pm and there was still no Iyke. Somtoo, overwhelmed with frustration had crept into the loneliness of the Palace hostel balcony, where he slumped to the floor, gazed at the bright moon over the serene natural view of the balcony and finally allowed a tear to escape his eye. He had allowed only one, but a couple more followed. But harmattan had just begun and the cold dry breeze swallowed his tears as soon as they emerged like it had been thirsty over the seasons. It wasn't long before Honor appeared, found him there and began to talk to him about life, illuminating him with his expert insight and that permanent smug. He had that sort of look that bewitched, with eyes that commanded intrigue and so as he sat riskily on the concrete barricade of that balcony, he appeared almost unreal, like a flattering optical illusion of an augmented holograph from a futuristic laboratory. Honor continued, uninterrupted. "Life is a game, especially the game of thrones," He claimed confidently with that faint smirk that never left his lips. "Who will win this and who would win that, that's it and I know the cheat." "What is it?" Somtoo asked exuberantly, bracing himself to be either enlightened or disappointed, but definitely entertained, and he was standing this time. "Calm down." Honor said with a mesmerizing calm and yet supercilious smile. "You know how in science, studies are relatively very linear and predictable, like, you know that when you pour a strong acid on an iron, it would definitely corrode?" "Yes." "You also know that–" He pulled out a bunch of keys from his jean pocket and continued. "–if you throw this up, it would reach a certain height, stop for a moment and begin to come back down." "Because of gravity, yes." Somtoo answered impatiently, willing him to get to the point quickly. Honor paused and breathed as if taunting him. His eyes searched his demeanor pryingly; probing him like he could hear his thoughts, but only vaguely. "But then when it comes to people, humans, everything becomes too damn complicated, right?" He finally said. "Like how Professor Uzo, for example, loves it when you interrupt her lecture to ask questions, while Prof. Geoffrey would attempt to rip your head off if you even imagine interrupting him to ask questions in class." Somtoo chuckled; "Yes, exactly." "People would always say that humans are so complicated and what not, that you can never trust the outcome of any experiment or predict anyone's reaction," Honor began and Somtoo stopped to listen. "But the truth is; this is not entirely true. The idea that people cannot be predicted, manipulated, controlled, is an illusion. There is a formula, for everything. There are ways to make things work for you. You can make the Vice Chancellor to start bringing you lunch to class every day, and I mean by himself." Somtoo smiled skeptically and swallowed. Honor, to him, was beginning to sound fictitious. Honor had always been someone he admired from afar, someone he knew had everything he had ever dreamt of and he had always wanted to know his secrets, how he got so successful, so–big. But there has, however, always been that small skepticism budding in him, the thought that Honor was nothing special, nothing other than a lucky bastard, blessed, spoilt even, with beauty, grace and great fortune. It only made sense that way. That had to be it. There was no way that one person would be so fine, so divinely beautiful with his immaculate skin and faint brownish-green eyes, and still possess the cognitive superiority that allowed him to break margins, to amass so much wealth, power, influence and respect at such a young age. There was possibly no damn basic formula in heaven or in hell – that made that all possible. He was only a rapper, a good one, who with Skillz, was lucky to amass millions off YouTube and album sales after winning the hearts of vain teens. That was all. He must be just that. He must. He was tired, he had toiled, he had had a long day that drained a lot from his spirit and even when he cried, his tears too were taken from him. The conversation was entertaining enough, as in; it was enough; so he checked his phone for time. It was 09:37pm; it was time to get going. He would need to make up a polite excuse to leave this conversation. It was not leading to anywhere realistic. It was disappointing really. He slid his phone back into his pocket, and Honor's attentive eyes watched him. "See, Honor." Somtoo began and stopped. "Sorry, I mean em . . . Jide..." "Why? They are both my names." Honor said with a shrug. Somtoo was taken aback for a moment. "It's your name? As in, real name?" "That's what it says on my – ID card." "I thought it was a stage name." Honor shook his head. Wow. 'Honor Jidechukwu.' Even his real name is so perfectly crafted to suit his glory long before he began to shine. Somehow, Somtoo felt jealous. "Okay," he nodded. "Well I need to catch up on some school work. So I..." Somtoo began before he was cut off with one simple reorienting statement. "You're admissibly too smart and ambitious to walk away from this." Honor claimed and was right. He knew it, and Somtoo knew it. His feet froze on the ground where he stood. "What?" Honor asked, as he took a bottle of water that he left half empty by his side and leaped down onto his feet, then dramatically walked closer to him. He was not too tall, but Somtoo was a tad below average, so Honor appeared to stare down at him. "You do not believe?" He queried. His swift movement towards Somtoo caught him off guard, and was a little invasive and overwhelming. He wanted to take a step back and breathe but somehow he stood his ground to make a point but what point was that exactly? "It's not that..." He began before Honor cut him off again. "The only obstacle between you and what you want is you." Shut up, Somtoo's eyes narrowed into slits and he considered Honor's words. Nice, he thought, but impractical. "You have a big crush on Triple Ace," He blurted and it rattled Somtoo. "Don't you?" "Triple Ace?" "Annabelle. Annabelle Amaka Achina." Honor answered. "The initials, Triple A. get it? I'm surprised you don't know that nickname." Somtoo hesitated and for some reasons felt violated. He knew that nickname passively, but that was not his concern at the moment. He only cared to understand why someone like Honor knew the secrets of his heart. Honor didn’t even attend class regularly, and even when he did he hardly talked to anyone, and even at that–his dreams about Annabelle only happened in his head and he had neither ever told anyone nor showed his feelings. Honor must have found out somehow, and whichever how it was, it must have been definitely violating. "How did you know about that?" He asked, a little too serious. "Information is power and I like power." Honor shrugged. "So I get information." "Hmm." Somtoo managed to finally step back and breath. "You're very strange, like creepy Doctor Strange strange." "And you're quite normal. Where has that gotten you?" Somtoo opened his mouth, but nothing could come out. There was absolutely no argument there. "I also know–" Honor started as he began to wrench open the cover of the bottle of water he had with him. "–that if I pour this water on you, you won't react." Somtoo stared warily at the bottle his fingers cradled and for some undecided reasons, he just stood there and watched and it was turned over his head so that the water poured on him, caressing his parched skin. He wanted to move away or knock it off, but he stayed for other reasons that were not yet completely fathomed either. "You want to stop me, or step away at least, but you're even more curious so you stay." Honor said and the accuracy of his claims kept Somtoo rooted to the spot. "Besides, you're parched and your body would more than welcome a very wet shower." He finished as the water finished. "I only stood because I wanted to, not 'cause you made me." "Or so you think." Honor smirked. "The same way Tunmise thinks he hangs around me because he wants to; the same way Queen thinks she tells me everything, even her social media passwords because she wants to; the same way I've managed to convince a friend that not having any children is the best thing for anyone and humanity." He stopped abruptly and looked very thoughtful with squinted eyes. "Which was an experiment and should probably be undone." He said lastly, more to himself than to Somtoo. Somtoo was on a line between a little scared and a bluff-calling tendency. "What are you trying to say?" "Panorama Puppeteering: the act of using popular concepts and beliefs, estimations, prejudice, major opinions, stereotypes, in other to affect individual thoughts and actions. It's all about p********a, disinformation, manipulating thoughts with statistical data. People are dumb." Honor said as calmly as if he talked about the harmattan. "I'm sorry but that's the truth." "So, you're saying that you can get anyone to do anything you want?" "Or get someone to get someone to get another to use someone I want, to do anything I want." His sly smile was more than evident, and while Somtoo was still trying to wrap his head around this, he added; "You want Annabelle, don't you?" Caught off guard, Somtoo stuttered. "Well, I...I–she uh..." "In minutes or less you will be at my door, knocking softly with shaky nervous hands, calling my name. You will be tired but you will not care. You will wait patiently and think I might never open but you will not go away. You will get pissed, you will get frustrated, you will want to cry, but you will not go away. You will stay there, until I open." Honor claimed boldly and tilted his head to the right slightly as if observing a child. "After that happens, feel free to think you did so because you decided to." Flabbergasted, Somtoo interjected; "Eh?" Honor grinned, winked and then just walked around him, and went on his way, through the hall, to his lodge. Somtoo stood there contemplatively and flabbergasted before in a second, he allowed his gaze to rise and set on the moon; and as soon as it illuminated his thoughts, it all dawned on him. He spun quickly and raced down the corridor, chasing after Honor. He was only three strides away, but then Honor turned to a door, and went into his room. He locked the door behind him. Somtoo heard the door lock click and slide and he sighed in despair. It all made sense now. Slowly, he raised his tired fist and before he knocked, he noticed that his arm shook a little out of exhaustion, anxiety, harmattan cold and nervousness. He sighed and at that moment, he became a believer. "Honor." He called and then knocked softly. He had no choice; Honor had left him with none. Nothing ever went his way, and so he would grab at any chance, any chance at all, for an opportunity to turn things around. * * *