Chapter 1
1090 Words
The evening breeze rolled mildly over the fields in Greenfield, carrying the scent of tilled earth and ripened yams and the sounds of mating animals.The little town was quiet, save for the distant croak of frogs and the laughter that spilled from the Daniels’ home.
Inside, the four of them were gathered at the wooden dining table Michael, his wife Grace, middle age, their 6 years old son David, and their 9 years old daughter Miriam. The kerosene lamp flickered, lighting their faces with warmth.
“Daddy, when we get rich from selling your genetically modified crops, can we buy a bicycle?” David asked, his eyes shining with mischief.
Michael laughed, the sound deep and reassuring. “Not just a bicycle, son. One for you, one for your sister, and maybe even one for your mother if she promises not to outrun me.”
Grace smiled, brushing her husband’s hand with hers. “Don’t listen to him, children. I’ll win any race. Your father may be a strong farmer, but speed has always been my gift.”
The children burst into laughter. Miriam toyed with her food and asked, “Daddy, will we live in a big house in the city too?”
Michael’s smile lingered, but his eyes grew thoughtful. “Perhaps one day. But remember this, my little star, a house is only as big as the love inside it. And we have so much love so our house is big already”.
The night carried on with easy chatter, but across the table, their meal date, another pair of eyes watched too closely. Peter, Michael’s longtime friend, sat with his wife Ruth. They were family friends business partners and neighbours, almost like kin, but tonight, Peter’s gaze was heavier, his smile strained.
When the meal ended and laughter died down, Peter excused himself, muttering about checking the car for tomorrow’s journey. Outside, under the cloak of darkness, his hands worked quickly, rewiring, fastening, and setting up the car for destruction. His heart thudded, but Ruth’s whispered words from the night before steadied him: “Why should Michael have it all? This is your chance. Take it.”
Outside, the four of them were gathered at the rustic dining table — Michael, his woman Grace, their son David, and their daughter Miriam. The kerosene beacon flitted, lighting their faces with warmth.
Inside the Daniels’ home, Michael sat by the window, journal open, pen in hand. The words came sluggishly at first, but his heart held the burden of a father's love and he wrote -
“Dear God, For David, I pray that he becomes a man of honour, wise, and loyal.
For Miriam, may she find a love true and imperturbable.
For Grace, my heart, my everything, may joy and peace never depart from her days. And Lord if anything ever happens to me, keep them safe.
He closed the journal, with a firm grip as though the grip of his hands would make every desire written come true.
Grace came to him, touching his shoulder tenderly.
“ Michael, what burdens you tonight? ” He looked at her, his eyes deep with implied fears. “Occasionally, Grace, when something good comes, I sometimes fear the unknown that may try to take it down. But I'll not fear this one, my love ”
She smiled gently, pulling him near. “Also, let’s hold onto our love. It's brought us this far and it will keep us together”
Grace leaned in suggestively, her night gown sleeves slightly raised to reveal her supple bossoms.
Michael slightly squeezed and lifted her to the bed. That night, their whispers turned into a lovemaking that held promises, faith and security.
They fell asleep tangled in each other’s arms, hearts beating in sync.
Morning came with the crow of roosters. The house was alive again—Grace cooking a meal that filled the air with delicious scents, David running around with boundless energy, Miriam twirling in the little promise ring her father had given her the night before.
“Never take it off, my little star,” Michael said, crouching to her level. “Not until you find a man who loves you as I love your mother, and who gives you something even better.”
Miriam nodded solemnly, holding the ring as if it were the most precious thing in the world.
Across the street, Peter scribbled quickly in his own journal:
Daniels’ car to blow up in flames on 10th Ave, right in front of the Doughnut Bar shop.
He shut the journal and placed it on the shelf just as his son Samuel, Grace ‘s best friend and senior by only 6 months, danced in.
“Daddy?” the boy asked, wide-eyed. “When will you come back?”
Peter forced a smile. “When I return, I’ll be richer. I’ll take care of you and Mama.”
“ Daddy, what’s the difference between good and bad? ” Peter’s jaw tensed. His answer was cold, rehearsed,
“ Good is when you do anything to get what your heart desires and what your daddy wants you to do.”
He picked up his bag and left for a meeting, ignorant that the journal still sat on the shelf. Samuel goggled at the words written curiosity stronger than fear. Then he saw it..
The promise of murder written by his own father, his breath caught in his throat. His small hands quivered.
“To blow up”
He ran.
Across the road, he found Miriam playing with her ring. She squealed when she saw him. “ Sam! You came! ” He wanted to tell her. He wanted to scream the truth, but his father’s voice echoed in his mind — Good is when you do what Daddy wants..
His gut clenched. He gripped her hand tightly, eyes wide with fear. “ Miriam tell your daddy not to go. Please, beg him not to go. ” Confusion clouded her face. “ Why? What’s wrong? ” He shook his head, swallowing the secret like a bane. “ Just don’t let him go. ”
The next few seconds of silence that followed we're filled with dense confusion
“Samuel, relax okay. Daddy and uncle Peter aren't going today. It's tomorrow and they'll be back before next term ends. Daddy promised”
All he could do was nod in agreement and hold his hands in his face to hide the fear and anxiety that any adult could see in his child like eyes.
- Writer
