Published July 15, 2023.

*****

0|5

Lost in thoughts, Kwento decided that since he could not form a noble solution on how to capture the murderer, he should ask for help.

Like that, he found himself on Rice highway. Streets bustling with business as ever. Neon lights twinkled and the air was soothing. Into the bar he went and he met Grace who was serving two gods who looked like men in their late thirties.

He sat at a stool by the counter and waited for her. The bar was not so full.  Just about three booths were occupied. As his eyes swirled round, he also seemed to notice the amount of eyes on him.  He should have gotten used to it by now, especially since he was not so average looking but it still seemed weird with his history in prison; he could not tell if they were looks of admiration or repulsion.

Finally, he saw Grace approaching him and while the question of Michael was at the tip of his tongue, ready to be released, they changed when he noticed her as the only one tending drinks and serving them.

“Your co-workers still on mental leave?”

She looked bewildered. “Yeah, how do you know?” she set up a wine bottle on a tray and looked up to see his raised brows.

“Yeah, I forget sometimes that you’re a friend of the boss. It’s stupid I swear; this leave thing. Johnny just called in this morning to inform us that he’d be taking a leave because he 's still suffering a trauma from the hand he broke two months ago trying to get a fallen sandwich. Can you imagine?”

“Yeah, somehow.”

“Promise that you would not tell Michael that I said his mental leave stuff is trashy.”

“I promise I would not.“

Just then, a customer came by the counter.

“ He’s up by the way,” Grace said and Kwento nodded at her and walked up to go find Micheal.

“The only way we can achieve this is if she is moved to a totally new environment,” Micheal said and Kwento heard as he turned the corner to Michael’s office.  It was the first by the left and was guarded by a metal door.

After a few moments, Kwento heard Michael end the call after saying “Thank you for everything Kylie!” into a rectangular device on his hand.

Deciding that he had seen enough, Kwento decided to walk in and shut the door making Micheal fumble with his pen so much that It finally landed on the ground, the sound of a low thump filled the air after it. The thump originated from the telephone hitting the desk.

“Oh, you’re here?”  Micheal scrambled to get the item on the floor while Kwento made himself comfortable on the seat before him. Apparently he had been flipping through a confidential document which he was trying so hard to hide from Kwento’s view. Why the secrecy though?

“I thought I heard you speaking with someone, sorry for interrupting.”

“You’re actually not interrupting anything, I was just about to drop this,” he said , arranging the documents in a hurry and fitting them into a drawer. “I’m done with them anyway.”

“Okay,” Kwento agreed temporarily so that Michael could relax before he asked pointing at a rectangular device on the desk, an item that could be found mostly on earth. “Are you done with that too?”

“Ooh, that,” Michael said with a smile that wasn’t quite him. “Yeah.”

Kwento stretched his limb towards the container of pencils and picked one. “You know,” he relaxed back into the seat, rolling the pencil with his finger. “I used to walk into you making business transactions and I’ve never seen you this taut.” He shrugged. “Maybe I’m having the wrong perception or maybe my intuition is right and you’re really not into this friendship anymore.”

“Whaaat?” Micheal drags out. “That doesn’t even relate to the situation at hand. What are you saying man?” He looks at Kwento’s bowed head.  “That doesn’t cross it at all. I just...It’s just that you were locked in a cell and I had to get used to that and now you’re here after such a long time, it’s so hard to take in and here I am trying to adjust again.” He swallowed when he stopped perambulating only to meet Kwento’s sincere brown orbs.

“You serious about that?” Kwento asked

“Yeah,” Micheal said and had his index to his chin. “Thinking of it now, how’s it that 1500 years in prison and you’re still as muscular as ever.”

“This guys—” Kwento touched his biceps, eyes becoming lighter, “ were born to stay.”

At that, Michael’s smile died and his eyes appeared glazed, like his mind was in an alternate universe.

“You okay bro?”

“Yeah.” Micheal shook his head, “I just blanked out for a second.”

“Is it Kylie? You can tell me anything man, remember I always come to you about Mma. Brothers got have each others back, right?”

Michael looked at Kwento, eyes wide in shock.

“Maybe you’ll be needing that mental leave you give out,” Kwento said, staring at Michael warily. “You blanking out is scaring me. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing man.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, since you don’t want to confuse in me, I think you should relieve Grace… she looks stressed out with the absence of the other employees and all that.”

“She’s actually not complaining.”

“She doesn’t need to.”

Michael inhales and resumes his position on his seat. “Why are you here though?”

“There’s fire on the mountain.”

“When was there never? Or have you forgotten how you used to be so stressed out when Chimma would ignore you. That reminds me, how’s she?”

“She’s good but this isn’t about her.”

“Ooh that’s a first,” Micheal said and relaxed into his seat.

“It’s about the child who helped me get released from prison.”

“What about him?”

“This…” Kwento raised the necklace. Wrought iron chain and a pendant of green stone.

“Man,” Micheal started and laughed awkwardly. “That’s a stone from the lake of ghouls. I don’t get what you are saying. A human can’t have that, much less a child. It’s basically of no help. What powers are they trying to suppress?”

“You’d be right if the child is completely human. Because when I’d picked it, it was dusty and abandoned as if on store for the right time.”

Now, the fear had gone up Micheal’s throat. “What are you trying to say Nanu?”

“I think this boy is linked with a god.”

Micheal exhaled grateful that it did not end up as he had thought. What a close one!

“A boy?”

“Yeah.”

“Tell me more about it,” Michael said, fully relaxed. Now, he was more than interested in hearing the story since it was not related to him.

“He 's the only child that has prayed in my shrine for more than a millennium now, and I wonder what propelled him to do so. The shocking thing is that he keeps having recurring nightmares, is afraid of almost everything and has a drunk, irresponsible mother and an absent father.”

“That pretty much sums it up, but my question is this— who could it be that had advised him to pray in your shrine? Maybe the person is a god or has a forbidden knowledge.”

“But what if the person turns out just as clueless, especially with the serial killer moving around hunting children. You know humans and how they transfer beliefs.”

“Then you just have to delve deeper into the investigation. Wait! A serial killer? That can’t be a god now, could it?”

“Yeah. It’s a fifty-fifty chance that it’s a god or a human and I’ve sworn to protecting this boy for helping me.”

“This case would be bad if it actually is a rouge god.”

“Its still bad nonetheless, but that's my thought. So that means—”

“The god cops. You need to join them if you're so keen on protecting the children.”

“With my history as an alleged delinquent, this should be interesting.”

“You’re still going with that?”

“I paid the price for a crime doesn’t mean I’m guilty.”

“Have a good time convincing the SOCs bro.”

“Hey?” Kwento shouted after thinking it through. Micheal was right, it would surely be a difficult task and he had not even started embarking on missions.

*****

There in the SOCs' base, a rocky structure floating in the air and serving as a portal to the gods' prison was a building with a dizzying network of hallways and among all those was a single room with its door open, comprising of two gods, the Divisional head of cops and a supposed delinquent communicating in a fairly acceptable way.

“What you’re asking from us is nearly impossible, god of the innocent. You’ve been arrested before and we don’t recruit criminals. If you had wanted to join you should have thought properly before committing an crime.”

“I’m not doing this for myself. Those children are my responsibility and if I don’t keep them safe no one else will.”

“They have their parents to guard them.”

“What about the orphans.”

“I’m still not changing my mind.”

Just then, they heard a series of thumps approaching, like a barrage of footsteps, a battalion maybe.

“Excuse me,” the deputy said and proceeded to go check what was happening.

“Jude, patrol isn’t supposed to end till the 18:00,” the DHC said, stepping a foot out and ready to correct offenders.

“Who is Jude,”Kwento heard a masculine voice declare. It was not just a voice from the DHC's reaction. She looked caught off guard and was trying to unwind.

"General!" DHC said in shock. “But pardon me General, why are you here?”

“I’m here for a surprise visit. Would you let me in?”

“Yes sir,” she said and moved out of the way.

The first thing Kwento noticed was the shoe. It appeared to be shining for eternity; as if allergic to dirt, then a pair of neatly ironed pants and a button up shirt followed. And when Kwento’s eyes moved up at the sound of the voice, he met a chiselled face studded with a pair of old orbs, a pair of intrusive obs.

“And who could this be?”

“We’ve concluded sir,” the DHC hurriedly replied.

“This doesn’t seem concluded to me,” he said as he shared a glance with the DHC. “Why are you here boy?” he said, focus now on Kwento.

“I am here to join this organization but your representative doesn’t want me in.”

The man quirks his head sideways in thought. There was another empty seat next to Kwento but he seemed comfortable standing with the security flanking him. “And why is that?”

“She thinks my record in prison gives me a lesser chance at doing my job.”

“He committed an offence sir. He drank on the job and risked the lives children,” the DHC defended.

“Well,” the general said. “I agree but at the same time I disagree. If you aren’t properly trained, how then would you do your job efficiently? You’re in boy, you’ll start work tomorrow.”

“But sir—”

“That’s a decision Bright and I wouldn’t repeat myself.”

“Yes sir," the DHC replied.

“Is there any other thing you need boy?”

“No sir.”

“You’re dismissed,” the General said, looking at Kwento and forcing him to lose eye contact. When Kwento was finally out, the General said, “Bright, you’re in charge. Prepare his work file. He’d do great.”

“Yes sir.”

Then he sat on the comfy looking bench by the corner of the wall, while his security team remained on guard.

“Now, how have things been?” he asked her as he crossed his legs.

*****

The day had started greatly since he was on the path of recovery. Mama Obiora was quite particular about his health especially since a medicine man was made available on such short notice. As for his mum, he had not seen much of her face or that of the strange man's  for the remaining hours of the weekend. And now, it was Monday, time for him to return to school.

Obiora dropped him off at school since her mother had to go trade some farm product. An obedient child she was especially since she was in her early teens.

A relaxing walk it was, even the fact that he had his arm in a make-do sling was not enough to change that fact. Trust Dike— being deprived of things as small as this was enough to make him crave even the littlest care so much that he even had to steal side glances at her to make sure he was not dreaming.

She was taller than him, a bit and had taken a size opposite to her mother's chubby physique. Obiora had slender neck, a straight delicate nose and long lashes shielding those gentle, caring eyes. Her hair was in an all back medium braid and like him, she was dressed in a uniform, but hers was of the community secondary school some kilometers from his.

Like every other good thing in life, the beautiful walk had to end, no matter how heartbreaking; the narrow pathway flanked by tall trees and shrubs gave way for a barren expanse of land, having sparse grasses and housing this dilapidated bungalow, nothing else but the community primary school  in all its glory.

Obiora walked him to the building itself since there was not a fence and they stood in front of his classroom for a while.

“Thank you for walking me to school,” Dike said, face down.

“That’s normal thing to do Dike. You’re like a brother to me, remember,” she said and then she noticed how sullen he had become. Did he not like her as a sister? Somehow, she found that hard to believe.  “12Inukwa, I’ll come pick you from school if you want. You’ll like that won’t you?”

“Of course I would,” Dike said, now smiling.

Obiora crouched to hug him despite his injury. Dike blinked. “Don’t  hesitate to tell me if you need anything, okay?”

“Okay,” he said, smiling.

She was patient enough to watch him walk into his the class and settle on his seat despite how frequently he had looked back to convince himself that it was all reality. When he was finally settled, she waved at him and he waved back with a smile before she turned to leave, looking back once again to catch his gaze on her. That confirmed that he definitely liked her as a sister and for the first time in quite a while, he was not dreading school or the day before it started.

*****

The bell rang for assembly. It was rattling and quite awaking. The group of primary school children in their green striped uniforms piled out and stood in an orderly queue in front of the mango tree facing the classrooms. Before them stood the headmaster, assessing the staffs and students and his assistant, a bony man who stood behind him, awaiting instruction.

The assembly started as usual, with the national anthem and then general prayers, after which the headmaster retook over the podium and mentioned that she had an announcement. 

“A new student has decided to join us this day, and she's... Essence!” A series of clapping follows. “Essence please come out let them see you,” she said and they watched her pave her way out of the sea of students. “Since she’s from a distant town and had decided to join us, you would enlighten her on our customs and treat her as one of us, do you all understand?”

“Yes Mrs Ngwebuike!”

“Anything different from this awards a punishment, is that clear?”

“Yes Mrs Ngwebuike!”

“Then it is settled. You can now go to your classes in an orderly manner.”

*****

“Kylie, is there anyway you could reverse yesterday’s decision? I perceived wrongly,” Micheal's said into the cellphone and waited.

“Yes,  I understand,” he said with a sigh. Apparently, what he wanted was impossible for some reason.

*****

People saw an artefact but Dike saw something else. She was like Obiora, a pure soul which he wished to befriend.

So, during class, he had been studying her. She was quite an attentive student despite the new environment. He thought that she would be looking in around in awe like he was doing her; seemed like she had other things in mind.

During break, he decided to test the waters. The kids were moving about, either playing or eating. He brought food  and cleared it quickly and after patiently waiting for her, he saw an opportunity when she walked out to go admire the mango tree.

The sun was its usual ball of fire up in the sky, casting a marvelous illumination of all things below it.

“They’re pretty, aren’t they?” he asked as he stood beside her, joining her in admiring the unripe mangoes dangling from branches.

“Of course they are.” She looked sideways to behold his portrait and him, her. When their eyes met, she looked back at the mangoes. “What are they anyway?” she asked. Her words were smooth, like a drug, and her hands, she was clutching them in front of her. He frowned when he saw it though. They were strange to come by and the fact that she was the first person he had seen wearing it on her hands. Did she hate social contact?

“They’re mangoes?” he said, and resumed watching a particular mango up in the three. It was surrounded by others like it but it stood out because of its size. “Why do you wear that on your hand?” He asked.

His question seemed to have dimmed her mood but she replied anyway. “It’s gloves to protect anyone I touch.”

“Ooh,” he replied, suddenly conscious of his intonation and how lacking it was compared to hers. Any time he spoke, his Igbo tone muddled what would have been a perfect English diction.

Suddenly the bell rang to signal break over and Dike was the first to speak when he noticed other students retiring to their classes. “That is the bell for break-over. Maybe we should be going.”

“Yeah, we should," she said, a curl of her hair falling forward as she twisted to face him. “I’m Essence and you are?”

“Dike. It’s nice meeting you.”

“You too,” she said, and after a pause, she began walking towards the classroom and he followed so that they were both seated just in time for the teacher to arrive.

*****

Hello everyone, please don't forget to vote if you are liking the story so far. It helps in ranking the book and suggesting to other readers.

Yours,
Em.