I DEFILED MY SISTER

JAMES ESCAPE

The sky grumbled to the thunder blast that announced itself recurrently, as it paved way for a heavy down pour. Sparks of the lightening stroke on the face of the misty cloud, like it is marking spots for destruction.

Pacing about in the waiting room was Linda. Anderson, her boyfriend, who is to drive us searching for James is stuck in a traffic jam, which has tied him to a spot, for the past 47 minutes.

Stephanie and Linda couldn't find my phone when they brought me to the hospital. So, I sat by the corner of the hospital reception, making efforts to connect to my phone with Stephanie's. As I kept redialing, with no one picking up, from the other end.

Formally, James abduction overshadowed concerns for my missing phone, until it registered on my thoughts that I'd be needing to reach out to Deacon Pascal. If push comes to shove.

After about what seemed like an hour, repeated honks from a car, outside the gate snatched our attention, as Stephanie and Linda ran out of the hospital, while I limped closely behind, to join Anderson in the car.

The rain had doused its tension, and was now drizzling in bits. Anderson drove at a slow pace, as he proclaimed that we would pick Jude on our way, whom he disclosed to be good friends with James.

I, on the other hand, suggested that we locate a police station first, and lodge a formal complaint, following the deliberation on how best to go about our search.

But my suggestion was abruptly condemned by Anderson, and the ladies. Sighting the corrupt nature of the police as their reason, and furthermore, barred the idea of involving anything that has a “force” to its name.

Just by the feet of a giant tree was a short, thick muscled, haggard looking man, His dark lips already gave indications, before his breath popped some stash of smokes into the air.

Is this person James's friend? I queried, as Anderson swerved to the right-hand side of the road, where Jude stood, screeching the tires of his car cagily, on the tarred road.

Is he a student here? I quibbled, again. But my questions weren't directed to anyone in particular, so I didn't expect answers. As none was given!

“My guy! How e the be na?” Jude greeted Anderson, as their hands anchored on each other's. “I bam, my man!” Anderson replied as they continued to converse with street slangs (Nigerian pidgin English).

I crossed over to the other side of the road to ease my body of the urine that has accumulated on my bladder. My spirit was struggling to align with the person of Jude. The scars on his face and body indicated how dangerous he could be, but what do I do!

On crossing back, to join the guys, I learned that they have reached a decision. A nasty conclusion which sent shivers down my spine. My head began to ache even harder than it was, while at the hospital.

My faith completely forbids Jude's suggestion, which every other person seemed to have acceded to. I am a son of a Reverend, I cried to the guys, but they waved their hands, ousting My cry, like they didn't understand what it is for me to be equally yoked with a witch doctor.

Beads of sweats formed on my inner body, as I limped behind the guys involuntarily, into the thick bush.

If I know my ways around here, I wouldn't be doing this, you know… I tried convincing my conscience, which incessantly tugged my heart.

I ceased walking on, catching glimpses of tiny red and white scarfs tied to bark of trees and branches, as I urged the guys to trudge on without me. It was obvious. The witch doctor's shrine is in sight.

Additionally, I collapsed my buttocks on the foot of a mango tree, as the pains attacking my thigh became imminent. A little earlier than I expected Anderson and the other guys to return, I noticed the shrubs and grasses from the opposite path of where we came in from, waver. Who is that? I thundered, as I became agitated, and further handle a short a log of wood which laid beside me.

It is obvious, the unlikely tremble of these grasses isn't initiated by the calm breeze, I bemoaned to myself, even as the wavering continued. I tightened the grip of the wood on my hand, searching into the bush with my eyes. My gaze caught a figure. A Naked and battered human clothed in blood and grasses. My jaw dropped, following my rapturous scream, which encroached the air.

JAMES! I roared as I limped to carry his collapsing body, on my palms.