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Bossladies Nest 36: The hunter becomes prey

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Bossladies Nest 36: The hunter becomes prey

 

Jay stared at the little stone in his palm. It was stained with blood. Icy hands clawed at his heart. He urinated blood and stone! The pain he felt a while ago had subsided. The relief he felt when the stone came out was heavenly. He examined the tiny stone again and shivered. Who did he offend? Who could be after his life? His wife? His heart raced. He turned the stone this way and that, his brow furrowed.

He cursed aloud as he remembered that his phone had been stolen. He needed to speak with his doctor. He would have to get to the hospital. Then he remembered Debola’s handbag he was so sure he saw on the dining table and shivered again. Did Adele take the bag? Was the bag on the dining table a mirage? There was only one way to find out: ask Debola if she left her bag in his house as she hurried out! But how would he? He had no phone to call her. Using his wife’s phone was out of it.

Something was gnawing at the back of his mind. He searched….yes! Adele didn’t sleep in the house. She claimed she was locked out. Claimed? According to Debola, Adele was locked out! Hmmmmmmmmm. Was he dreaming?

He remembered his most recent challenge. How could someone pee stone? Didn’t that portend death? He sat up suddenly. He had to do something. He needed to see his doctor urgently. Or, he could speak with Ken? With which phone? After hitting Adele that morning, asking to use her phone wasn’t advisable. But, come to think of it, how did people survive before the advent of GSM? He laughed mirthlessly.

For the first time in months, he remembered there is a being up there who answers prayers. He knelt down at the foot of the bed, brought his palms together in supplication and immediately had an urgent urge to answer the call of nature. He froze in fright. The fear of the experience he had about half an hour ago paralyzed him.

“You will pee stones again,” a voice told him.

He jumped up and looked around. There was no one with him.

“No I won’t,” he responded aloud.

“Ok. Go and pee then,” the voice challenged him.

He looked around him again. This time, he opened the closets and checked. There was no one in there.

“You will pee stones and blood. Your blood will drain and you’ll die,” the voice said calmly.

“Noooooo,” he screamed and ran out of the room, to the sitting room.

**

 

After about an hour of desperate trekking, Debola got lucky. An old delivery van stopped for her. She smiled within herself. She had no choice. All the beautiful rides she had been trying to thumb down didn’t as much as give her a glance. At this point, even an okada would be appreciated.

A few more steps to the delivery van, the door opened. She tried reading what was inscribed on the van but they were not legible enough. All she could make out was ‘pure water’. She felt thirsty.

“Good morning angel,” the occupant of the vehicle said as she got to the opened door.

“Good morning sir,” she responded.

The sole occupant of the vehicle was an old man that could be in his sixties. Something about him didn’t feel right. But this was the only vehicle that had stopped for her since she started trekking over an hour ago. Moreover, he was an old man. What could he possibly do to her?

“Where is this angel going this early in the morning?” The old man asked jovially.

“I’m going home,” she told him.

“I’ll take you home, wherever home is. But you’ll pay me very well,” the old man said with a smile.

Debola stiffened. She had no dime on her and wouldn’t be able to gain access to her flat immediately as she didn’t have her keys with her. This meant she wouldn’t be able to pay this old man. But she wasn’t going to miss this chance of leaving this environment. Rich men’s nests had its own blues: they don’t show poor strangers love!

She smiled at the old man. He smiled in response.

“I guess that seals the deal. Where are you going?” He asked.

She told him and without hesitation, he said, “Come in.”

She did and closed the door.

As he pulled away, he asked, “So, how much are you paying me? It’s far you know”.

She stiffened again and remained silent.

“Oh, don’t be afraid. I can actually take you to your destination free of charge, you know,” he said, by way of conversation.

Debola relaxed. That was not lost on the old man.

“I need to deliver some packs of water to a customer nearby. If you don’t mind, I’ll take you home after. Since you don’t seem to want to pay me, you’ll allow me do my business a bit. It’s too early in the morning to go on unfruitful errands, you know,” he said.

“Em…er…em…it’s not as if I don’t want to pay you. The problem is that I was robbed this morning and my money and the keys to my house was taken from me. Everything was taken. My bag was taken. I can’t even open my door when I get home,” she lied, getting bolder as she said that.

“Aaaaaaaagh! You were robbed? Sorry oh. You live alone?” He asked.

Debola nodded. She wasn’t really interested in talking to the old man who appeared garrulous.

She cursed Jay’s wife for coming back too early in the morning and forcing her out of the house. Now, she had to hitch a ride with this smelly old man and must be nice to him! She cursed her again and again in her mind as the old man rambled on.

Then, she remembered that the prophetess was supposed to come see her in Jay’s house! Aaaaaaaaaaaah! She could be there right now. She froze. She had sent the address and description of the house to her. She needed to warn the prophetess that the game had changed. But how would she do that? She had no idea of time and had no wristwatch on.

“What’s the time?” She asked the old man.

“To seven. It’s still early in the morning,” he said.

She went back to her thought. How would she warn the prophetess? She could ask to use the old man’s phone. But she didn’t know her phone number off hand. It occurred to her that she didn’t really know anybody’s phone number, only hers.

Technology is doing all the thinking for most people and people are getting very lazy!

She felt the old man’s touch and looked down. He had his right palm on her laps…

***

Aunty prophetess was both angry and worried. How could Debola send her on a wild goose chase this early in the morning? How could she? She was on the mountain all night because of her, only to be told that she was in the wrong house. But…was that the wrong house? The description and address matched. How did it turn out to be the wrong house? Fear gnawed at her heart. What if something bad had happened to Debola in that house? She felt ill at ease when Debola told her that she had moved into that man, Jay’s house. How could she have found it so easy to displace his wife?

 

These rich men! She never trusted them for she knew the secret of some of those wealth! She was into that business and she knew what she did for some clients to get rich. Something told her that Debola was in danger. Her phone had been ringing and she wasn’t answering her calls. And she was expecting her!

She decided to go to Debola’s house immediately to check on her. If Debola was not at home and couldn’t be reached till evening, then Jay would be in hot soup. She made a detour to the nearest ATM and withdrew some cash, then headed for Debola’s house.
**

After much mental exertion, Adele concluded she’d had enough of Jay. She had borne all the insults and had patched the marriage for over two decades. A fool at forty, they say, is a fool for ever. Coincidentally, she was in her forties…inching towards fifty. Time to live her life. Since Jay had gotten to the point of bringing a lady into the house and locking her out of the house she built with her money, then it was high time she moved on. For the sake of her children and propriety, she had borne all the insults and allowed Jay to drag her in mire. Her skin crawled as she remembered that she found her land documents and other important papers in the lady’s bag. What if the lady had taken those documents away? Who knew what other documents Jay had handed over to her?

Adele had taken the whole week off from work. Not being in the office on a week day felt so strange to her.  She smiled.

“It’s time to join the Boss Ladies’ Nest. Tracy needn’t preach anymore,” she told herself.

She’d made up her mind to find out the faces behind that club and what made them tick.

As she made to pick something from her bedside fridge, she heard a cry. She listened and heard it again. It was Jay.

She rushed out of her room to Jay’s room, from where the cry emanated. Jay wasn’t in his room but his rest room’s door was ajar. He was in there, backing the room. He was whimpering, his boxers on the floor, framing his feet. Her first thought was to get a good, pliant cane and flog the hell out of his flat butt.

Instead, she asked him, “What’s the problem? You want to shout down this building?”

“Please help me. I’m in serious trouble. I’m pressed but can’t urinate. It’s as if something is moving in my urethra. It happened this morning and a stone and blood came out. It’s happening again,” he cried.

Adele stared at him, trying not to melt, for he looked pathetic.

“For the love of that which is good, I’d drive you to the hospital,” she told him.

Her phone was ringing. She looked at it: Bolan!

She moved back to her room and returned Bolan’s call.

“The angel of my life,” Bolan began…

***

Debola stared at the old man’s hand rubbing her laps. Her short gown barely got to her knees as she sat. He pulled it up, revealing her thighs. That was when she noticed the ring on the old man’s little finger and the fact that he was drawing a particular invisible pattern on her laps with it.
His hands inches towards her V zone.

“Stop that nonsense. Stop it. In fact, stop this van. I want to get down here and now,” she shouted, hitting his hand.

The old man merely smiled, his face trained on the road as he controlled the steering wheel with his left hand.

To her horror, Debola realised that she hadn’t said a word out or raised a finger, for her body felt strange. She watched, horrified as the man grabbed her panties and dipped his fingers into her cave of wonder….

****

Let’s continue this journey on Sunday.

 

####

Send your observations to: julietbumah@gmail.com

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