Dammy adjusted his glasses and slouched further into the back seat of Gbenga’s blue Toyota Corrolla as they sped towards Lagos from Ibadan. Tope was driving – his well-chewed HB pencil clutched between his teeth with Gbenga by Tope’s side in the front pessengers seat – keeping a watchful eye on the speedometer and the fuel gauge. Sola was beside him in the back, smoking his Benson and Hedges cigarette and nodding his head to Gbenga’s collection of old school rap music that came to their ears carried on agitated airwaves that were trying to flee the thumping speakers. He could barely hear himself think about the party they were going to in Ikoyi. Thes thoughts were primarily concerned with how much fun he would have with Sandra – she of wide hips and pink lips. Sandra was the new Corper in the office where the four of them worked and she had been the objective of a wager they made with each other the week she arrived. Dammy had won and despite Gbenga’s (who had come in second place)half-hearted reminder that he had a doting fiance and would soon be married, he had every intention of fully collecting on his winnings.
His thoughts and the music were violently interupted by the overture to a symphony of death as a yellow bus smashed into the toyota from behind. The impact caused all their heads to swing backwards suddenly and they were instantly stricken with whiplash. Tope, confused and disoriented accidentaly put his foot – which had earlier been hovering above, anticipating a gear change – down on the accelerator. The Toyota lurched forward suddenly and their heads swung forwards again. The pencil, which had so far been content to remain in the firm embrace of Tope’s teeth, impacted harshly with the steering wheel and finding no other place to go, penetrated Tope’s brain through his mouth. Dammy only had enough time to let out a muffled scream as the speeding vehicle, now being directed by a man lacking essential parts of his brain, drifted left, veered off the paved road and crashed – much like the zimbabean economy – into a waiting tree.
The driver of the bus that had instigated the crash parked his dented vehicle at the edge of the road near the Toyotas take off point and came down from the passengers seat. Dressed in tattered jeans and fishnet vest, he looked just like a regular commercial bus driver which was probably the furthest thing from his true identity. He wore a gold ring with what looked like a Ruby in its inset – uncharacteristic for a bus driver. He clambered down the sloping roadside and walked to the tree where the vehicle conveying the young men had attempted to sodomize a tree. Reaching into the vehicle, he dragged Dammy’s semi-concious body from the car and hoisting him on his shoulders, carried him to a small clearing near the road before depositing him on the floor. The mysterious driver, barely out of breath, knelt down beside Dammy’s body and placed his lips above the bleeding mouth…
***************************************
Miriam raised her head, looked around her and took in her surroundings. The room was a dirty off-white like the skin of the bastard child of freshly fallen snow and desert dust. There was a rusty fan attached to the ceieling in the centre of the room that spun reluctantly, as though it were being forced against its will. She could just about make out the lettering that had once been a shiny gold, now peeled away silver on its centre ‘SMC’ it read. She had just enough time to wonder briefly what those initials stood for before the second wave from the ocean of sorrow hit the shores of her soul. The tears welled behind her eyes as they struggled to hold back the flood. They failed. The levees broke and the ocean came through. Tears. Warm. Salty. Uncontrollable.
When her eyes could not let out the pain quickly enough, her mouth opened to let a out a wail. It helped, for the weeping reduced to a steady stream of tears punctuated by sobs. She shook her head, irrigating the tiled floor with her falling tears.
Dammy was gone from this world and there was nothing she could do to bring him back. There was no one to comfort her. His only sister had died the previous week after falling from the fourth floor of an incomplete building. The memory of it only made his own death even doubly mournsome. She would have to bear this cross alone. The sobs came more frequently as she tormented herself with memories of their times together and she buried her heavy head in her hands.
“Pele Madam” The voice was high pitched and raspy. Miriam could not tell if it was a man or a woman speaking. She looked up and saw the person who had spoken to her. He didn’t much look like he belonged in the hospital at all. He was wearing a what was a very obviously expensive suit and his shoes shone as though they had been polished for hours by dutiful hands. His head was clean shaven and shone just as brightly as his shoes. His beard was perfectly trimmed. The gold ring with a Ruby inset on his left hand caught her attention instantly. She wiped the tears from her face and spoke in a shaky voice.
“Thank you. But I’m sorry I don’t know you. Do you want something?”
“Not really, Madam, but Dammy does.”
“What? What did you just say?” Miriam was desperately confused now and shaking her head slowly as though it would help her understand what this strange man was saying
“Dammy made a request, will you oblige?”
“Request? Please I’m not in the mood for games, what do you want?”
“Look into my eyes”
The command was sudden, stern and said in the tone of voice one would use on a particularly stubborn five year old to instill fear. Miriam was stunned to silence and involuntarily raised her red, puffy eyes to meet those of this mysterious stranger.
She saw Dammy.
He was there, behind bars of cornea and pupil and iris. There was no mistaking it. Within the eyes of this man, her lover and best friend beckoned to her with his soft smile and warm eyes. She felt her body begin to draw nearer to the visage behind the eyes, as though to get a better look or just to be nearer to him. All thought for the fact that she was in a morgue, surrounded by an audience of the dead, including the body of the person she was drawing near to, were gone just as the life had gone from the bodies surrounding her.
She did not realize it when her lips met his but she did feel her essence leave her body. She didnt even notice the knife enter her belly. By the time she regained some measure of self awareness, she was standing right in from of Dammy. He was not smiling.
A strange, sudden fear took over her as he began to shake his head. It was then that she saw the reason he was not smiling – his lips were sown together and his hands seemed to be tied behind his back. There were burn marks on his exposed skin. She reached out to touch him…
…and then she felt the heat and saw the flames. She screamed.
*********************************
The man in the expensive blue striped suit walked out of the morgue whistling to himself much like a child with a new toy…or two. He was quite pleased with himself, as would anyone who was playing at a favorite pastime which one had not indulged in for a considerable amount of time. He paused and thought for a minute about the stupidity of humans. They always misunderstood him when he asked if they would like to be with their loved ones again. “Yes” was the standard answer – some even said “please” and he always did oblige after letting them choose the person they wanted to be be reunited with. His latest acquistion had been too easy, she barely put up any resistance. At least she had asked to be with her mother again. He could already sense from her essence and memories trapped within him that her mother was one of those Pentecostal Christian types. Good. Excellent even.
“Its been a while since I had to kill one of Jehovah’s angels to acquire a new soul for my collection. Stubborn little creatures they are. This should be fun”
He was speaking out loud to himself. He looked to his left and then to his right; and saw no one except a security guard slumbering by the gate. Dariel let go of his bond to the world and, transfiguring into a puff of smoke, blew North with the cold harmattan wind towards his next target.
Sawaleh 