They got off the three-wheeler too; each person still keeping mum, as though they were walking towards a funeral pyre. A man with a bunch of wild columbine in his hand was following a herd of forty-seven cows. Daniel actually counted, because he had learnt the art of observation from a detective three years prior.

Mr. Johnson broke the silence. “Do you know, Daniel, that I’ve never seen my in-laws since the past twenty years?”

Of course, which in-law would tolerate a brute like you? “Why? What happened?” Famous asked, as though he cared. All he cared for at the moment was his arm remaining where it belonged by the time he reached his family. He didn’t want to arrive home in a dangling sleeve. And as his captor had advised, Daniel prayed they find Remi.

They approached the gate of the house at 4:15pm.

The house itself was a big building with a lot of windows, and the few people whom knew the year the building was erected were long dead. Perhaps, if Daniel was alive at the time the house was built, he wouldn’t have ventured before its gate.

The house was originally built with red bricks at the time when civilization was yet to set in the environs. It was the palace of a powerful king who had once ruled, until his tragic demise. Myth had it that the king was a madman who delighted in killing human beings each day since his ascension to the throne at the age of eighteen. The king died at seventy-six years old. So, he killed about twenty-one thousand, five hundred villagers in his lifetime. Ten years before the king’s demise, a terrible plague struck the village. In the first year of the plague, young children died by the tens each day. In the second year young women –including the pregnants - joined in the death race. The scale rose sporadically, death tolls skyrocketed, and the mortality rate was so much that about five thousand inhabitants were lost in a single month. A record even over ten times greater than their king’s. The oracle was summoned and they were informed that the every person related to the king had to be sacrificed for the plague to lift, for the king had done the unthinkable before his death; he’d sacrificed a virgin. Virgins in the village were never to be killed, not until they had tasted in the pleasure of the bed. And the king, in his thirst for daily blood, had killed a nine-year-old girl – a virgin. As soon as the chief priest gave the revelation he slumped and died. Eventually, everyone would die if the king’s relatives were not sent to the other side.

By the third year after the regicide, the village was reduced to a ghost yard. Before civilization, the cursed village was called The Land of Ghosts, because skulls filled the soils. For almost half a century, nothing grew on the lands all around the village. It became a desert. Half a century after that the lands became a thick forest which covered up the palace built in red bricks and painted in red blood. Civilization set in, The Land of Ghosts became a section of Lagos State. And the palace was rebuilt into an impressive edifice. The builders gave nary a qualm to the numerous skulls and bones they dug out of the soils. And they paid dearly with their lives.

A mansion was built.

Beretta92: You're forgiven,Larry. Welcome back! As usual you held me spellbound. Waiting for more updates.

Thanks bro.

Remi’s father literally slapped the gate a couple of times with his large hand. The gate was very high and made of steel; heavy and hard to knock. The fence, which surrounded the compound, was stretched in an ever-longing style by the road. And on top of this row of blocks were barbed wires which glistened in the afternoon sun. Some few feathers could still be seen tangled in the mest of the wires. Birds had tried to perch on the wires and they’d been instantly electrocuted. The owner of the building, however, evidently took every precaution to make sure that the bandit that might want to pay them a visit remained outside the gate. An inconspicuous surveillance camera had been installed at a corner on top of the gate. Because of all these, Jamal Malik had decided against employing the service of a gate-keeper.

Before Tunde could slap the gate one more time it swung open without assistance. The gate was being electronically controlled from within.

Mr. Johnson smiled at Daniel and said, “My father-in-law is full of surprises. He should expect some from me.”

Daniel did not know what comment to reward such statement. He only grinned, the shape of his mouth resembling a banana.

When they stepped inside, the gate closed behind them. For a moment, Daniel was scared the gate might not open for him anymore. Perhaps, luckily, he would exit the compound alive, but absent his right arm. He knew very well the danger inherent in following a stranger into another stranger’s den. Many had done it before but did not live to narrate their ordeals. He was helplessly stirring up endless hideous possibilities in the pot of paranoia that was ever boiling on his mental stove.

He knew that back in Port Harcourt, he could easily have refused the man’s request to travel with him down here. Even with the threat of the severance of his limb. But he did not back out, he had agreed to follow his tormentor because he was consumed totally with the possibility of having to see Remi once again. The lady had promised him marriage. He was excited. The excitement had evaporated as soon as the gate closed behind them. His glee had been replaced with dread – a fear of what could happen in this secluded compound. And the grin plastered on the face of Mr. Johnson wasn’t helping any situation at all. Considering his current state of mind, Daniel wasn’t suited for work in a graveyard, a mortuary, a morgue, or a cryogenics facility where gaggle of dead people frozen in expectation that one day they could be thawed and returned to life.

“You look scared.” Johnson said.

“Shouldn’t I?” asked Daniel in reply.

“Don’t be scared, the house is safe.”

Safe like Titanic. Safe like Hiroshima 1945. Safe like Hell. For Daniel - a man who had slept with only three women in his entire life, who had never really experienced one-night stands even in the days when there were fashionable or ostensibly disease-free, who had never had sex purely for the physical sensation and without the anchors of love or commitment - the decision to flee felt surprisingly right.

Daniel was immediately filled with wonder when he noticed the ambience of his surroundings. The property was an estate; Daniel could count as much as eight buildings therein. And far before them stood the largest architectural edifice of all. It stood tall and proud; it could as well be used as a hangar while all around the fence could be the location for an airport. But the property wasn’t an airport in the least; it was a residential estate which was owned by only one wealthy man – the one and only Jamal, even though, truly, the man had an airline business going. The biggest building of all, the one Mr. Johnson and Daniel were approaching, would be considered to be capable of accommodating about fifty to a hundred guests. The windows went on and on, and the shadow it cast on the concrete ground beneath was huge. At each side of the building were uncemented grounds; one side was a garden used in growing series of vegetables and root crops, while the other side, considerably farther off the massive house, were young coconut trees which grew not beyond arm’s reach. The soles of their feet which beat the pavement made some noise like the flapping of a beach. If there was ever going to be a zoo in the state of Lagos, this area should be ideal for the tourist attractions. Daniel noticed the dustbin can was without lid and there were litters everywhere. He retrieved the dustbin lid and meticulously gathered up all the litters: three empty beer cans, a receipt of purchase, noodles wrappers and damaged DVDs.

They reached the door.

The door itself was painted brown, like the entrance of a courtroom. It was made of oak; as heavy as a rock and as hard as armour. Daniel’s jaw was dangling at the sight.

Tunde knock on the heavy door, physically wincing with pain at every contact his knuckle made with the locked door. He knocked three times before the door was being opened from behind.

The figure that emerged from behind the heavy door was so striking in appearance that Daniel’s heart nearly stopped. She was not more than nineteen or twenty, Daniel thought. She was dressed in a black gown with an embroidery that extended from the swell of her bosom down to the hem of her garment which draped almost to her feet. Covering her legs was a pair of black heelless footwears. From each shoe, a polished nail poked. Daniel looked at the lady’s face. It was as smooth as a bald man’s pate. Her jet-black hair, which heightened the curves and softness of her face, fell across the right side of her face. Her complexion was fair and her black eyes glittered like diamonds; very luminous searching eyes under arched brows.

Her nose was slightly turned up and her lips slightly too full for the rest of her countenance. But all these things made for beauty against a fair skin where the blood showed easily. Her eyes especially caught Daniel’s attention; they were so beautiful, so glorious, the lashes black and shiny, the eyebrows graciously outlined. Yet, behind the eyes lurked something dangerous. Her stare carried a flicker of desperation, and this worried Daniel. He also noticed her lissome svelte. All in all, the lady gave the impression of beauty at its peak, whether she was actually beautiful or not, she retained that impression of fragility and a certain hesitant air which went with both. The lady looked from one to the other of them, Lot and Daniel, that is.

Daniel expected the man who had brought him over here to talk, but when the older man seemed not ready to say anything, he spoke:

“Good afternoon, young lady.” He greeted.

“Good afternoon, sir. How may I help you?” the lady demanded pleasantly.

Daniel, anxious to go to his family, did not waste time in asking his question. “My name is Daniel Famous, and this is Mr. Johnson.” The girl did not show any sign of knowing either of them.

“Okay,” she said, apparently expecting Daniel to continue.

“Okay,” Daniel mimicked her, he was trying very hard to find his tongue. “We need to see someone by the name Remi. Is she around?”

The pretty girl frowned, “Remi?” she asked.

“Yes, Remi.”

“I’m sorry,” she replied, “We have no one by that name here.”

Daniel’s heart flew off. He opened his eyes wide, not believing his own ears. He looked up at the large man beside him, the man was not smiling.

Daniel knew that he was not going to come out of this trouble unscathed any more than he was likely to escape Mr. Johnson in a flying carpet with a magic lamp and a helpful genie.

You r doing a good Job.

maputohq: You r doing a good Job.

Thanks bro.

2010

Kofoworola Alabi watched as her son left the house. She prayed for fortune to smile on him; the young man had been called up again for an interview today. She sincerely hoped that this particular interview would not be cancelled as the numerous others had been. She knew he desperately needed the job, he was already getting increasingly frustrated, it was a dangerous thing for a young man of thirty-three years old to still remain unemployed. The desperation might lead him to engage himself in some evil conducts. There were many depraved men out there searching for unemployed people to do their dirty jobs for them. Kofo shuddered; she felt goosebumps grow on her skin. A sudden premonition had suddenly descended on her; she didn't know what prompted this feeling of something bad happening soon. She was certain that this feeling did not result from her worries about her son's fate. This feeling had occurred to her without reason, like she was possessed by a strange spirit into a stranger realm. She felt deep within her that something evil was going to happen. She was scared; her son had just left the house, maybe the evil was going to happen to him. Maybe not only would her son lose the job again but something far worse was also going to happen to him. She quickly knelt down to pray, begging God to protect her son and bring him home safely - even if he had to lose the job; there would always be more job opportunities as long as he remained alive. She prayed fervently.

But what Kofo didn't know was that the sudden sense of foreboding she had was not about something evil happening to her son. The evil was going to happen to her.

After praying, she stood up and look up at the clock, it was almost noon. She was surprised to realize that she'd been praying for half an hour. She loved her son too dearly and a quick thirty minutes' prayer for him was not too much. She felt suddenly hungry; she hadn't had her breakfast. She'd forgotten that she wasn't fasting today. She went to the kitchen and served herself the leftover yam and fried eggs she'd prepared for her son. She returned to the sitting room with the plate of food. She switched on the television and switched it off after searching through the stations and finding no interesting programme. Every channel seemed to be about the raving World Cup tournament. She couldn't wait for the football competition to end. She always wondered what people saw in that kind of sport. Kofo had no interest in any sport whatsoever; she'd rather be watching the news or a Mount Zion Christian movie.

She sat herself down to eat the food but before she could take a slice of the yam a knock sounded on here door. She'd been expecting a guest; an important guest to her. She wanted to confess something very important to this person. She'd suffered enough sleepless nights over this secret, it was high time she confessed to have peace of mind. Even her son was beginning to think she was losing her mind. Of course, she might totally lose her mind if she didn't make this confession. She had to right her wrongs now.

She gasped in surprise when she opened the door. She was amazed at the figure she was seeing.

"Hello, Mrs Alabi." The figure greeted, smiling warmly.

"How come? I - I thought -"

"Don't bother saying it, Mrs Alabi. I already know what you wanted to say. I used to be." The figure replied, "Won't you ask me in?" The person was still smiling.

"Of course, please come in." Kofo said. She turned to cover the food on the table. Then she realized her mistake, but it was too late. She shouldn't have turned her back on her guest, knowing the kind of person this visitor was.

She felt the stab go deep into her back; she couldn't even scream. What she remembered before darkness set in were the wicked smile of her attacker and the face of her son.

Kofoworola Alabi died with her confession.

Another nice update from Larry himself.
Still you write...

Larry you are forgiven. I've not read your updates yet but I'm definitely following.

PBeni: Another nice update from Larry himself.
Still you write...

Thanks buddy. The plot is yet to thicken.

luvmijeje: Larry you are forgiven. I've not read your updates yet but I'm definitely following.

Thanks a lot, 'jeje. I'm glad you're still around.

FIVE

He was now expecting Mr. Johnson to dip his hand into the bag he carried around his shoulder, come out with a hatchet and make a swing at his right arm, pop the joint off the socket and use the bloody ligament as a cane. All these possibilities did not elicit a smile from Daniel’s face. But he found the man smiling sweetly at him; Daniel was not seeing the smile but the coldness in Mr. Johnson’s eyes.

Remi’s father cast his eyes off Daniel’s scared face and looked at the girl. “What’s your name?”

The girl gave a thought about answering the man or not, she decided there wasn’t any harm in divulging her name to the stranger, she said, “Esther.”

Mr. Johnson smiled warmly, “What a coincidence! That was the name of my first crush in grammar school.”

The girl, Esther, didn’t know how to give reply to this kind of statement, she kept quiet.

“I’ve always had a secret crush on her since the moment she enrolled in my school, but I never told her about how I felt because I didn’t have the courage. I never did see her again. I still regret not talking to her though. Did you have a high school crush, Esther?”

The girl, now feeling uncomfortable with the direction the conversation was taking, merely nodded yes.

“What’s his name? I’m sure it isn’t Tunde.”

Daniel was appalled at what the man was saying. The conversation sounded to him like Mr. Johnson was making a pass at the girl. He was angry. Has the man gotten no shame? The girl couldn’t be older than his daughter. Daniel felt like tearing the man’s hand off and flogging him with it.

“Tunde?” the girl looked confused, “Who is Tunde?”

“That’s my name.” Mr. Johnson replied.

The girl smiled for the first time, white teeth glistened in the crescent her timid smile made, that smile alone sent a sensation through Daniel’s body. The smile could turn a stone to bread and could charm a bird out of the sky and into a cage.

“No, his name isn’t Tunde.” She replied, making emphasis with the shake of her head. “His name was Daniel.” She spoke with an invented accent and looked as if laughter was forever bobbling up at the back of her throat.

Daniel blushed hotly. He knew that the Daniel the girl was saying was not him, but he blushed all the same. He cast his eyes downward to hide his nervous countenance.

“Did you tell him?” Johnson asked.

“Tell him what?”

‘How you felt about him.”

She smiled again, ‘yes, I did.” She cast her face down in shyness.

Johnson smiled with her, “And what did he say?”

Esther was still looking down when she replied, “He turned me down.”

“Aw! Daniel must have been very silly to turn down a pretty girl like you.”

Famous felt like the man was indirectly referring to him but he could not see any sense in that.

Mr. Johnson became suddenly serious, as if he had just remembered what had brought him to the doorstep. “Is your father in?” he asked her.

“Yes, he doesn’t go out much these days. Besides, it’s Christmas Eve.”

Acknowledging the fact, Johnson nodded, “The house must be filled with guests, right?”

“Not really. Aside my parents and me, we’ve \got only five people; all of them family.”

“You’re Mr. Malik’s last child, am I right?”

“You’re quite right, sir.”

“Is my daughter here?”

The girl cast that suspicious look at Johnson and Daniel again. ‘Your daughter?” she said to Johnson, “Who are you?”

“I’m your sister’s ex-husband. Is she around, your mother?”

“You mean Sister Ruth?”

“Do you have any other sister?”

“No, yes, Sister Ruth is here.”

“Is her daughter here too?”

“If you are talking about Vera, yes, she is here.”

Johnson smiled at Daniel who carried a puzzled expression on his face. Tunde understood the questioning look and said:

“That’s the name her mother christened her: Vera, what a name? I’ll never call my daughter that. What was Ruth thinking about to name her Vera?” he smiled again at Daniel. “I’m not going to tear off your arm after all.” He turned to Esther, “Would you kindly invite us in, Miss Malik?” he spoke pleasantly.

“Are you vampires?” she demanded, smiling.

Both men were taken aback at this question. She laughed at the men’s ignorance and said, “Mythically, vampires never enter people’s homes unless invited in, hence my question.”

Mr. Johnson still did not grab the joke. He replied, “I’m sure I’m not a vampire, I don’t know about Daniel beside me here.”

An awkward moment it was. Daniel did not talk for fear of giving the girl the liberty of thinking him as senile as the older man. He was also worried about keeping quiet, thinking his silence could reflect the truth in what Mr. Johnson had presumed.

To prevent the conversation from getting more awkward, the girl invited them in. As they walked into the house, Daniel being a trained observer, naturally noticed that the girl had restless hips.

I might not be replying every of your post cos I hate it when I see so many comment it makes the whole thing much unnecassarly but know this am following you bumper to bumper and am enjoying every part of it

bigsholly: I might not be replying every of your post cos I hate it when I see so many comment it makes the whole thing much unnecassarly but know this am following you bumper to bumper and am enjoying every part of it

Thanks a lot. I'm glad you're liking it. You won't be disappointed.

The interior of the building was almost as massive as the exterior visage. The living room, which the family referred to as the parlour, was as large as a hotel hall. And on the walls were pictures of apparently long dead ancestors from the western, eastern and northern parts of the country; some men dressed in flowing dansiki and on their heads rested turbans, some others wore wrappers under their shirts – with feathered caps adorning their heads, and the rest were donned in agbada and very local caps with the halves withered to the left side. The house, though anciently structured, had been erected by professional builders. Daniel looked around the large room expecting to find pillars in the middle somewhere, but there wasn’t. There was a big television screen at one end of the room, and from the ceiling dangled as much as a dozen ceiling fans. The furniture was well-embroidered. The rug covering the floor was artfully designed. The room in particular was exquisitely neat, with a lot of stories to tell.

Daniel took a seating beside Mr. Johnson as the girl went into an inner room to summon the landlord. Mr. Johnson had implored the girl to call in his daughter first, but she’d refused bluntly, saying that she’d have to call the owner of the house first, if the man welcomed them, then the daughter would be summoned. When she’d departed, Mr. Johnson cursed under his breath and said the girl was as crazy as her father. Daniel did not approve of this statement but he didn’t show it. His hatred for the man grew like a plague.
It was nearly ten minutes before Jamal Malik came to see his guests. He looked pleased at seeing Tunde. He and his guest held each other in a handshake slightly firmer than a dead mackerel.

“Did you hear the news too?” Jamal asked, smiling warmly.

“What news?” Tunde asked, he wasn’t smiling at all.

“About my inviting all my family members to come and spend the Christmas with me. I thought that’s why you are here.”

“I didn’t hear that. And no, that’s not why I’m here. I’m here to take my daughter. I learnt that she came here.”

The man frowned, “Take your daughter? Why would you want to take her?”

“She left home without my consent.”

“Well, she did not run away. She came to see her handsome grandfather, as she put it,” Jamal smiled, “She agreed to spend the Christmas with us. I’d be very much obliged if you did the same. I need all my family members with me, and you’re family, regardless what happened between you and Ruth.” He seemd to notice the presence of Daniel Famous for the first time, as if the youngest man among them had suddenly teleported himself and intruded in their conversation. He summed up Daniel with his eyes and demanded his identity from Tunde.

“He’s the one who told me that Remi is here.” The pronunciation of that name sent an irregular rhytnm to Daniel’s heart.

“Do you know him personally? I mean, how much have you known him?”
“I met him newly. Why did you ask?”

Jamal did not answer the question directly, “That means he’s not family, right? He’s not related to you. Here’s a stranger here.”

Tuned looked askance at his ex-father-in-law, “So?”

“So, he’ll have to leave. I’m only inviting family members to spend the Christmas with me. I don’t need an outsider.”

Tunde took a few seconds before replying, “Listen, Mr. Malik, if you really say you don’t want an outsider, then you don’t want me here. As a matter of fact, I’m an outsider; I’ve broken up with your daughter, and that excludes me from being a member of the family. I’m basically a stranger too, therefore, if you want my guest here to leave, it means you don’t want me to stay. So, I’ll leave and I’m taking my daughter with me, whether you like it or not. The choice is yours: my guest stays, I stay. He leaves, we leave.”

Jamal looked hard at both Tunde and Daniel, trying to decide whether to accept Tunde’s conditions or throw them all out, granddaughter included. He finally decided to agree with his ex-in-law’s terms.

“Okay, he can stay,” he raised a ‘but’ finger, “But only for Christmas. On Boxing Day, he disappears.”

Daniel, because of his desire to be with Remi, fought the urge to tell the landlord to go to hell.

“I thought we’ll be leaving after Christmas too.” Said Tunde.

The old man smiled, “No, you’ll be leaving after New Year, the second day of January precisely.”

Tunde smiled wickedly and shrugged, “Whatever you say,” he said, “Whatever you say. Can I see my daughter now?”

“Oh yes, of course you can see her. She’ll join you shortly. I’ll go now and instruct the servants to prepare your rooms.” He walked out of the room into another door. The house was a maze of doors.

Daniel’s head whirled with glee when Remi appeared; the girl was simply stunning. He barely stopped himself from rushing towards her and having her in a tight embrace, with provocative kisses resuming immediately thereafter. He could not even tell who was prettier between Remi and Esther, even though they didn’t in any way look alike, except in beauty. Esther was fairly-complexioned with smooth skin and nice shapes, Remi was chocolatey with silky skin and a pair of legs that could make a man sell his house, drain his bank account and hock his car. Above all, Daniel’s heart beat for Remi.

Mr. Johnson’s daughter in question was likewise astonished at beholding Daniel, “Daniel Oliver Famous!” she was truly surprised, “How come?"

Her amazement inspired Daniel to step forward, with an awkward smile plastered on his face. “And we meet again.” He said.

Just four words. The four words carried much more unspoken sentences. The words gave a further meaning than what Mr. Johnson could understand. And we meet again. The words brought a recollection of Remi’s promise. The girl saw it all on Daniel’s face and even she could not hide the understanding her face exposed. She quickly turned from Daniel to face her father.

“Dad..." she did not finish the statement when a hot slap landed on her face. she gasped, hiccupped and swallowed; she was dazed, her cheek burned with hotness.

Daniel stepped in on impulse and pushed Tunde with force, hitting the older man’s back against the wall. Daniel was so mad at the man that if he were as large and as old as the man he’d have punched him in the face.

“Why did you do that?” he screamed at Tunde, his face glistening with perspiration of irritation.

“She is my daughter, what I do to her is none of your business.”

“Step back, Daniel, step back now!” Remi ordered.

When Daniel looked at her face tears had already flooded it. He felt like breaking Mr. Johnson in two, but he knew he could not; even if he were at liberty to do that, he knew he’d be the one breaking in the attempt.

“I’m sorry, dad.” She said.

Daniel looked incredulously at her and said, “Are you out of your mind? You didn’t do anything wrong, he’s the one who slapped you. Why are you apologizing?”

“I’m apologizing because he’s my father,” she said flatly, her comment carried no emotion. In fact, her words carried a finesse of coldness now, and this worried Daniel.

“I’m sorry too, daughter,” Johnson’s voice was soft too, “I over-reacted, I admit. But you scared me, Remi, you scared me. I thought something bad had happened to you. You shouldn’t have left home like that.”

“It’s okay, I was determined to meet my mother. Everything is all right now.”

Johnson turned to Daniel, glaring at the young man, “Young man, listen to me carefully, if you ever push me like that again, you won’t have any hand to push another person.”

Before Daniel could reply the girl asked, “How did you find me? Do you know each other?”

“It’s a long story.” Daniel answered quickly.

Remi looked at him skeptically, “I wonder why your stories are always long,” then she added cheerfully, “Okay, please follow me so that I can introduce you both to the rest of the household.”

Daniel was not interested in meeting the family members, he was particularly interested in speaking with Remi alone. The rest of the family members could take a hike, except, perhaps, Esther. Knowing that he had no place to give rules around here, he followed Remi and her father.

They walked through a door which connected directly with a long hallway, they walked through the door at the end of the corridor which brought them to a room stacked with volumes of books. Daniel wanted to stop and peek at the titles, but his hosts did not stop. They walked westward and opened a door out of five others, the door revealed another shorter corridor. They stopped at the third door and entered a large room not quite as large as the parlour but large in its own way. Daniel was sure that he would be lost if he were left alone in the building. After much ponderings and reconsiderations, Daniel doubted it. He’d read somewhere that in ancient Rome a boy who had been lost in a maze found his way out by touching the walls that surrounded him as he walked, making sure that his hand never lost contact with the wall. And in time, the walls led him to the exit. But Daniel sincerely hoped that he wouldn’t be subjected to clinging on the walls of the building.

He now understood that the former room which he had initially occupied with Remi’s father was merely the visitor’s waiting room. This present room was the living room. The sofas were more exotic, the rugs newer. The ceiling was enough to give an atheist a doubt in his beliefs. The air-conditioning machine hummed softly behind the volume of the large television screen on the wall.

In the room were four people who sat silently as they followed the movie being aired on African Magic. Entering the room did not make Daniel feel any ease; although a stranger he was himself, he felt something mysterious and ominous about this silence. But this silence was borne from the fact that the audience were engrossed with the antics of Nkem Owoh, the actions of Jim Iyke, and the emotions of Ramsey Nouah Jr. To Daniel, however, this silence was something else, it was a something he could not quite get ahold of; it was something evil, something of which he desperate did not want to partake in. He wanted to leave immediately, never to look back. He craved the comfort of his home once again. But the thought of being with Remi stuck his feet firmly. Even though he wanted to leave, he knew he could not leave her among the denizen of strange mysterious people. He had forgotten that Remi was also part of the family.

He looked at the people who occupied the room before them; two men and two women. He recognized only one of them, it was Esther. The fair lady was sitting beside a pleasant-looking man who apparently looked younger than Daniel. At the left hand side of the room was an older woman who shared a slight resemblance with Remi. Of the four people watching the movie the woman’s appearance scared Daniel the most. She looked coldest as she watched the TV silently, as though she was angry with the casts in the movie. The couple on TV were as close as Siamese twins, joined together at the tongues. The woman at the centre of Daniel’s attention was equally perched behind a man whom he presumed to be in his early thirties or forties. The elderly man wasn’t in the room. He simply presumed that the man was in another room behind a flight of doors.

Except Esther who stood up as they entered the room, the other three did not appear to acknowledge their arrival. Daniel knew now that he was in a genuine, for-sure, bona fide, dead right, for-a-fact-amen weird family house. Esther came towards them with a charming smile on her face. She held out her hand towards Daniel for a shake, Daniel received it.

“It’s evident that you’ve met Esther.” Remi said.

“She received us at the entrance.” Johnson replied.

Hearing the voice, the woman sitting watching the TV turned sharply to their direction. She glared very wickedly at Mr. Johnson, and behind the angry look was also something like a murderous intent, as if she would strangle Remi’s father if she could. Tunde smiled and winked at her. A wink which conjured another demonic countenance on the face of the furious woman.

“That’s Remi’s mother.” Tunde informed Daniel.

“I thought as much,” replied Daniel, “Nice meeting her."

“My mother has always had a temper inssue, so I heard.” Remi said sadly, then she brightened up, “Oh, forgive me, Daniel. Esther here appears like my cousin but she is actually my aunt, though we’re age mates. She’s my grandparents’ last child.”

Esther smiled. She was one of those few people who had easy access to smiles. She said, “Whenever we go out together, we tell people that we’re cousins. Sometimes we say we’re twins.”

“That’s my uncle beside my mother. I don’t know anything about him yet.”
“Neither do I,” said Esther, “It’s been a long time since I last saw him. I was still very young when he left home.”

“That good-looking young man sitting alone is his younger brother, his name is Ariel.”

“Ariel?” Daniel said, obviously taken aback.

“That’s his pen-name.” Esther helped out. “He’s a writer, you know? He’s written three great novels. But sadly, they’ve never been published. Publishers are always turning him down.”

“He’s my favourite person. He’s so cool and very friendly. I pray life treats him better he’s such a talented and wonderful man.”

“Why are they not coming to greet us?”

“It’s because of my father,” replied Remi, “They don’t like him.”

“I’m sorry about that.”

“It’s not your fault.”

The two ladies led Daniel to an unoccupied sofa and sat him down. Remi’s father sat beside him. Esther and Remi took another seat closer to the screen. The silence descended again. They watched the movie in silence and Daniel occasionally stole a glance to where Remi sat with her aunt.
Suddenly, Ruth burst out her words in frustration, “I can’t hear what they are saying half the time. All they do is mutter and mutter at each other. And it’s worse with the romantic heroes who defile the act of kissing. Most of them have no idea how to kiss. The actors bruise your lips with a brutal smackeroo while the actresses open their mouths so wide that you feel like a dentist.”

“It’s the way they act now, sister.” Said David, “Naturalistic, like they do in real life.”

“Far lot of use that is if you can’t hear any word or when you nurse a swollen lip from cruel kisses. And it’s no use increasing the sound, it only makes it worse. And they keep dashing into nightclubs where it’s so dark you can’t see anything. Those Tunde Kelani movies are better. Thunderbolt is one of my favourite movies; I wouldn’t mind seeing that Mainframe Production again. You can hear every word. They knew how to speak and act in those days. And why can’t they hold the camera steady in this movie? What’s the matter with the cameraman – drunk?”

“It’s clever direction.”

“Is that what it is? Too clever for me by half. I bet you’ll also call that filming of the moving vehicle’s tyres clever direction. Or the fact that the image of the camera is reflected on the tinted glass of the vehicle, not to talk of the ghost that looks left and right and left again before crossing the road. Has a normal ghost ever been afraid of being knocked down by a vehicle?” That was Ruth; she approved of almost nothing she saw. She could criticize the words and appearances of actors, politicians and pundits without fear of contradiction.

In about half an hour’s time, a knock sounded on the door of the room, and before anyone could utter ‘come in’ a fat middle-aged woman stepped in. Daniel thought at first that she was the mistress of the house, but this woman looked too young to be Remi’s grandmother. He studied her; the woman was fleshy to the point of obesity and she had a mole on the left side of her nose. Daniel thought it looked like melanoma. The woman walked stealthily and humbly into the room, and the apron she donned made Daniel understand that she was only a maid.

“Dinner is served.” The maid said.

SIX

The dinner was a full house; the head of the house, Jamal Malik, sat rather majestically at the upper end of the table, much like the CEO of a Board of Directors’ meeting. His wife, Mrs Hannah Malik, took a seat adjacent him. Daniel studied her as an ardent football fan would watch a match favouring his club. Hannah, he assumed, must have been a very beautiful lady in her youth, because, although the wrinkles that possessed her face gave her off as a woman who was probably already in her sixties, she still had the grace of a lass; the opisthenars, which were the back of her hands, were totally devoid of wrinkles. She had shiny greying hair, tall and straight body and she seemed quite erect even as she sat close to her husband. There was a pair of dark glasses shielding her eyes, Daniel had initially thought that the spectacles were there for fashion, but when the old lady searched the table with her palm to pick her cutlery, he discovered that she was without sight.
Sitting at the left hand side, also adjacent to the pater and perched near the blind mater, was the eldest son of Jamal – David, with his wife beside him. Anuli was carrying a little child of about a year old on her laps, the baby blinked at Daniel like a lizard sunning on a wall. Sitting next to the graceful Hannah was Remi’s mother, Ruth. Beside her sat Esther, and sitting facing both Ruth and Esther were Ariel and Remi respectively. Daniel sat beside Esther while Remi’s father sat beside his daughter, directly facing Daniel.
It was like a feast in the large dinning room; the table proudly featured foods of various cuisines, both local and foreign dishes alike, but there were no drinks other than bottled water. The clatters of spoons on plates did most of the talkings as the nine diners ate their meals in silence, and amidst the clatters was the suckling sound of a baby and its feeder. The maid remained in the kitchen, busy testing the tenderness of the vegetables in a soup pot on the stove.

Although Daniel was very famished, he ate a little of his own food and then quitted. Not that the food was not delicious. Actually, the maid was one of the best cooks Daniel had been lucky enough to sample their culinary treats. He almost drank too much a cup of the Adam’s ale, because he was nervous. He was uncomfortable about eating to satisfaction in a stranger’s home, even though the food was as delicious. He was tempted to down a few more spoonfuls but he cautioned his rising gluttony; he still felt as ill in the house as a guest who is beginning to suspect that he has outstayed his welcome. More than food and drinks, Daniel desperately wanted to have a moment alone with Remi so that they could finish what they had started in the bus a fortnight ago, but it seemed like everyone was doing everything in his power to prevent that from happening. He even suspected that Remi herself was somehow avoiding the meeting from taking place. This half-saddened him, for he was not sure about what was going on––and this worry had made him lose his appetite. Fiddling with his food, he watched in fascination as the family members attacked their food with remarkable voracity. No one paid him any attention, no one cared if he ate his meal or not. He wanted to rise up at that moment, stamp down his feet in anger and walked out of the room, out of the compound. The strange premonition descended on him again. Something wasn’t quite right. And he still could not get ahold of that thing, it kept slipping off his fingers; playing with his intelligence, taunting his memory.

At last, the meal ended. The robust maid came and cleared all the dishes. After the meal, he expected everybody to rise up and exit the dinning room but no one stood. Most gazes directed towards the pater now. Jamal had told the family, prior the arrival of Tunde and Daniel, that he was going to have a family discussion. There was silence now. This was the uncomfortable moment when people seized on the most unimportant noise and gravely listened. A grandfather clock stirred and rustled at the rear of the big dinning room; almost invisible in shadows. The clock boomed and went on leisurely beating out the hour of nine. They all listened to the strokes––having the dim idea, as people will, that it might hit more than the indicated number. Some silence soothed, but this one unnerved. This was the cold steel silence of the guillotine blade poised at the top of its track, with the target’s neck already inserted through the lunette below, the harvesting basket waiting for the head. Daniel began to fear that his own head would soon be offered to this bizarre guillotine of unnervement. This deathly quietness almost made Daniel shout just to prove that he still remained among the living.

The landlord spoke:

"I welcome you all to this gathering. I’m very happy to have my sons, daughters and other family members here with me,” he stopped, looked directly at Daniel Famous and said, “Mr. Famous, would you kindly wait in the living room? We’ve got some family discussions to make now.”

“He stays,” Tunde said flatly.

Ruth sprang up suddenly and lashed at her ex-husband, “Who do you think you are? You’re in no slightest position to give orders here. You should be glad that you’re not being kicked out of this house with your pathetic entourage.”

Anger clouded Daniel’s face but he kept quiet. This was the usual family squabbles and feuds, and his interference in this familial brouhaha could be quite detrimental to his own well-being.

Ruth continued, “Who doesn’t know that your presence here is nothing but to upset the apple cart of rationality?”

“Lady, I’m not here to listen to your asinine words,” Tunde replied, “Daniel isn’t my entourage as you dumbly put it, he’s your daughter’s boyfriend.”

“What!”

Oh Lord! Coming here was like placing a wrong foot again. Like stepping on a pile of poop.

Daniel was finding it hard to believe his own ears. What nonsense is this man talking about? He opened his eyes wide with surprise and unease.
Silence again descended after Ruth’s lamentation of surprise. Every pair of eyes in the room was directed towards him, even the blind old woman seemed to be staring at him from behind the dark lenses. Those who didn’t take a second shot at him were now looking at him with fascination. They’d have been equally surprised if he’d suddenly grown two more arms, like Gorro of the Mortal Kombat. But one person’s gaze worried him the most – Remi’s. She wasn’t gazing at him, she was glaring at him. That kind of glare was capable of peeling the wetness off water.

“What have you been telling my father, Daniel?” she asked irritably.

Oh! This is not good. Not good at all! This new revelation wouldn’t have done the family a greater disservice if he had driven a dump truck through the front wall of the house and unloaded a few tons of fresh manure here in their dinning room. He was therefore caught in a trap nobody would pry open for him here. And to have any hope of escape, he must chew off his foot and leave the trap behind – figuratively speaking, of course. His timidity was suddenly overcome by an anxiety for egress.
I didn’t tell him that, I swear.”

Ruth said, “Is it true, Vera?”

“Of course it’s true,” Tunde answered firmly, “Do you think Daniel would follow me down here all the way from Port Harcourt for nothing?”

“I think I’ve got the right to ask my daughter a question without having you interfer,” she said coldly, “Answer me, Vera. Is it true what your father said?”

Eyes shifted from Daniel to Remi, all waiting to hear his reply. She took a moment before replying, taking her time to weigh her answer. She was looking at Daniel now with eyes devoid of emotion. The eyes, incredible as those of a mannequin’s, were totally blank. Daniel was not sure if this was good or bad. He didn’t even know if he would be glad enough whether she replied in the affirmative, because her mother, most especially, would approve of the relationship only when pigs fly. He knew her disapproval of him was not really personal but only because he came into the house with her ex-husband. At least, that was what Daniel believed. Yet, he knew that he’d feel worse if she replied in the negative. This question directed towards her was, ironically, as though he had asked her himself. He knew she knew. He was looking at her, and she at him. The communication shared by only the two.

which kind suspense con be this one na? in my opinion I think you should be arrested and charge for murder attempt and released only on the condition that you will come and sammer us five lengthy updates in a day but that's but the way.
so abeg come update ASAP because I de very eager to know wetin later happen for that dining.
more Mb to your phone dude cos I'm so so loving this. ...




I'm Kingso ®…

She was still staring at him when she replied with a single word, “No.”

To Daniel, it was a blow and his eyes failed to hide his disappointment. He felt heartbroken, empty. He could hear the members sigh in relief at her answer. Except Esther, who was still staring at him with interest. He felt angry again; he wanted to shower Remi with expletives, call her a betrayer and tell the other family members to go and kiss the devil. But he knew he could not do that; this was not his home, he was with strangers. It’d be wise if he tread carefully here, lest he regretted his actions. There were dangerous people here, he knew, but unfortunately, he didn’t know who those dangerous people were. Hearing this disappointing words from Remi, there was no cause for him to tarry there any longer, but a part of his mind still told him that the story might change, that Remi was only influenced into saying what she said.

The landlord said, “There is no room for any quarrel; there is something more important we need to talk about. It’s ten minutes past nine and we’ll be ushering in the Christmas in less than three hours. We don’t want to welcome the special day with any disagreement or fight, do we? I’ll say you should iron out issues amongst each other before then.” He stopped and extracted a mobile phone from his pocket, he speed-dialled a number, waited for the recipient to pick the call and said, “Is that you, Mr. Okafor? Okay. Make it? Of course…I know tomorrow is Christmas…But it’s very important that you come. Of course no…no problem for now. Will you come? In the morning…thanks a lot. I shall be expecting you. And, Merry Christmas in advance.” He terminated the call, smiling to himself.

“Who is Mr. Okafor, dad?” David asked, “Another guest we don’t know?”

“Oh, Mr. Okafor is my new attorney.”

His wife looked up sharply at him, “What about Lawyer Nkem?”

“I fired him in August. He was extorting from me.”

"Another stranger to celebrate the Christmas with us?” said Ruth rudely, “I don’t know we’re about to invite half the population of Lagos State.”

“He’s not coming here to celebrate with us. He’s coming for something much more important.”

“For what?” Esther asked sharply. So sharply that, for a moment, they all cast a puzzled look at her. “For what?” she repeated solemnly this time.

“I called him so as to have him change my will. I want to write a new will. Some things have come to light and there is going to be a change tomorrow.”

Everyone was silent at this. Even Daniel felt like a member of the family for a thousandth of a second. The silence was like according respect to someone long deceased.

“What is there to change?” Ruth asked irritably.

“That’s for me to decide, my dear.” Her father replied pleasantly.

“Whatever,” David said in a bored tone, “Can we please talk about something else?” he faced his brother, “Hey writer, how far have you gone with your novels? You’ve been quiet all day. Don’t you have anything to say about dad’s ludicrous intention? Aren’t you concerned that you might be cut off the inheritance?”

True, Daniel thought, this man had not uttered any word since he had stepped his legs into this devil’s dinning room. Daniel hadn’t even been aware of that fact until David spoke about it. He was particularly concerned about the silence of the mistress of the house, the blind Hannah Malik. Daniel would have thought the woman was not only blind but also dumb if he had not heard her speak a few minutes earlier.

David turned to his father, “But dad, do not forget to include your grandson’s name in the will when you’re going to have it altered.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me, David!” Ruth lashed out, “I thought your greed would have diminished now that you’re an adult.”

“With all due respect, madam. I won’t condone such insult against my husband.” Replied Anuli.

“Tell me you’re not talking to me, young woman.” Ruth was already boiling with rage.

“I’m sorry, ma’am,” pleaded Anuli, “I overreacted, I believe it’s a wife’s responsibility to always back her husband up in any circumstance. Since you’re divorced three times, I don’t expect you to understand that.”

“Wow!” Ariel whistled, smiling. He was apparently enjoying this bicker.

Daniel was expecting Jamal to do something to curb this rising altercation but the old man seemed not ready to do anything. He was carrying a straight unconcerned face.

Ruth roared, “Your brain must have been fried too often under a beauty shop hair dryer for you to talk to me in such a rude manner. You must be––“

"Hey, watch your wager, sister!” David admonished, “I won’t tolerate any word of imprecation from your pathetic snout.”

“Ow!” bellowed Ariel again.

“Bro David,” Esther spoke, “You and your wife cannot come back here after millennia like Christ descended and start making trouble. Anuli, didn’t they teach you in your home how to accord respects to your in-laws?”

Daniel admired this young woman. Aside from her general good looks, she was obviously a lady that made every word worth speaking, and she always kept quiet most times, like her mother. Daniel had always believed that all women had volcanoes. Some compulsively erupted from the mouth with unending dribble. Other women kept their volcanoes dormant and exploded them at the right time in the right way. Daniel liked such women. It was quite impressive how the room suddenly turned now.

“And what do you know about respect, little sister?” David demanded, carrying a cruel smirk on his face, “What use is respecting someone who doesn’t place much respect on himself? If I knew that this was how this dinner was going to end I’d have gone to bed with an empty stomach. I feel like puking now.”

Daniel was beginning to vaguely understand the family. He now understood that two had anger issues among the old man’s four children. The coolest of them all, he reflected, was Ariel. But he was not very sure about that. Esther, judging by her few words behind the table, he could easily conclude that she was neither cool nor choleric.

Remi’s father sighed and said, “What a family!”

It was a bombshell. The squabble resumed newly. David lashed impudence at Tunde Johnson for his nefarious comment, Remi defended her father by throwing back an affront at her uncle. Anuli chastised her rudely. Esther came to her niece’s rescue by hurling abuses at her sister-in-law. Her uncle took umbrage at her words and gave her a piece of some vile vocabularies in his own lexicon. Ruth took it from there and the wrangle became so noisy that Daniel was afraid furniture would begin to gather wings.

“Keep your filthy mouths shut, all of you.” Said Hannah.

Silence again. The silence was so very obvious that a crawling ant would have been heard. Daniel was very impressed. The woman’s voice carried a heavier command than her husband’s. Daniel could see that everyone in the room acknowledge her fiat. The veneration they all accorded her surpassed that of her husband. Daniel studied the anopsiac with a new pair of eyes full of reverence. Despite being blind, Mrs Malik was able to recrudesce orderliness in the tumult.

"Go to your rooms,” she ordered, "Dinner is over.”

They obeyed her as a civilian would obey a piqued soldier.

The dining room was left in the wake of Hannah and her husband.

Kingso23: which kind suspense con be this one na? in my opinion I think you should be arrested and charge for murder attempt and released only on the condition that you will come and sammer us five lengthy updates in a day but that's but the way.
so abeg come update ASAP because I de very eager to know wetin later happen for that dining.
more Mb to your phone dude cos I'm so so loving this. ...




I'm Kingso ®…

Oh, thanks bro. I'm glad you're enjoying it. I'm trying to post a chapter per day.

oga larry, how u doing
welcome back.
in ur story, My heart is getting glued to Esther ooooooo.

Larry!

Damex333: oga larry, how u doing
welcome back.
in ur story, My heart is getting glued to Esther ooooooo.

I'm doing good, bro. Nice having you back.

LarrySun:
I'm doing good, bro. Nice having you back.

You no fit halla at me!

I love the story, although I feel the most for Ariel, for he reminds me of the classy nerd; not a too good dresser, don't attract gals or follows them but is good at his books.

rapmike:

You no fit halla at me!

I love the story, although I feel the most for Ariel, for he reminds me of the classy nerd; not a too good dresser, don't attract gals or follows them but is good at his books.

I'm so sorry, my brother! Your comment escaped me. Thanks so much for following.

Okay. You like Ariel the most, right? There is an Ariel in every writer.

SEVEN

Despite being publicly rebuffed by Remi, Daniel still got his moment alone with the young lady. After the dismissal from the dining room by the blind matriarch, Remi led Daniel to his room when it appeared as though the footballer would still seek repose in a wrong room even after careful description of which room belonged to him.

Unlike the other rooms in the building, the one allocated to Daniel was very small. It was painted yellow and furnished with a bed. In addition to the bed, the room contained little furniture; one night stand, a dresser and a chair. The television at the corner of the room was ancient. He suspected that if he switched it on, even if it surprisingly worked, the TV would sport only statics. Instead of rug, this particular room was floored with carpet. On one wall was a hole covered in mesh. Daniel guessed that this was an air-conditioner vent without an air-conditioner. And apart from these flaws, the room was satisfactorily neat; well taken care of. The pillows and bedsheets were new, the curtains embroidered with enough flowery designs that could have been taken for the vegetable garden in a white man’s backyard. The light was bright enough to illuminate a vermin’s nostrils, even the ceiling fan threatened to freeze the air.

Having taken all these in and nodded in apparent satisfaction, Daniel walked to the switch and reduced the speed of the blower. This action wasn’t only due to the fact that the atmosphere and breathing seemed threatened but also because Daniel feared a screw might pop loose from the mechanism, causing the swishing blades to come crashing on them. The accident might cause the parting of skulls from necks in a show of splattered blood and flowing gore. Daniel had always suffered that fear since he was a child; the fear of having speeding ceiling fans flying off their hooks with murderous intents. He didn’t know what name that fear was being called, fannophobia perhaps.

Having shown Daniel his apartment, Remi made to exit the room but Daniel stopped her. He told her there was something they both had to discuss, to finalize. She sat in the chair while Daniel sat on the edge of the bed. They silently looked in each other’s eyes for a short time, the only sounds were the hums of the ceiling-fan and the swishing of its blades. Even after everything that had happened this night, Daniel was still grateful for having the chance to see the beautiful Remi again. He didn’t believe that he would come this far. Daniel was still disarmed by the beauty of the girl sitting opposite him. Her charms, her magnetism and alluring, seductive characteristics were matching components that swept Daniel clean off his feet. He desperately hoped she would keep the promise she’d made to him in the bus or all his struggles would be in vain. He undeniably felt something; a dryness of the mouth that had nothing to do with thirst, a peculiar tingling along the nerves of his limbs, and a tremble short of weakness in his knees – if he were not sitting, he could have fallen flat on his face.

He broke the silence with a question, “Do you know what I went through to meet you again?”

She took a brief moment to reply him, “I can only imagine, considering the fact that you don’t know how to keep your mouth shut.”

“How do you mean?”

“You know what I mean. Who gave you the permission to meet my father and tell him my whereabouts?” she demanded angrily. The anger scared Daniel, her eyes were suddenly cold. The fury burning within them were un-disguisedly scorching. Daniel had learnt that anger could be a medicine, but it was never a cure, only capable of briefly numbling the pain without extracting the thorn that caused the agony.

“Not only that,” she continued her furious spiel, “You also had the effrontery to introduce yourself as my boyfriend. How dumb can you get?”

Daniel was stunned at this insult. A slap in the face could not have been more to the point. He burned with humiliation. In Remi’s eyes he saw chilly contempt that was a match for her hot anger; obstinacy as unyielding as a corpse.

Swallowing enough anger and pride that would guarantee he'd've no appetite come breakfast the next morning, Daniel said, “I already told you I didn’t tell your father that. Your dad isn’t a kid for heaven’s sake, he’s bound to suspect that sooner or later. A strange young man cannot approach him about his daughter and he’ll not have his own personal suspicions.”

“Suspicions which wouldn’t have been birthed if you had meddled at your own peril.” She almost screamed. The anger boiling in her heart was as bitter as any brew concocted in a cauldron full of rats’ blood, cats’ eyes and bats’ tongues. Daniel was beginning to refuse that this strange anger had stemmed only from the fact that he’d met with her father. He suspected that her infuriation had resulted from something particularly different from the obvious. He was certain that she was initially glad when she saw him in the waiting room in the afternoon; she’d even introduced her family members to him. She couldn’t have been this annoyed because her father had called him her boyfriend. This thing bothering her mind and invoking her ire was threatening Daniel’s chance with her.

Knowing fully well that violence was not always the solution for violence, Daniel curbed his own anger. If he responded bureaucratic arrogance and insults with as much double-barelled sarcasm and ridicule, his petty satisfaction would only come at his own mammoth loss. He kept his voice calm and his response measured, so as not to utter something he would later come to regret.

“I’m sorry about that, I really am,” he said, “I thought I’d never see you again. I didn’t have your contact address; not even your phone number. I hope you understand why I did what I did.”

“How would what you did soothe the slap inflicted on my face?” she spat in frustration, her voice was growing louder. Her face conveyed more contempt that might have been seen in a vivid expression of disdain.

Daniel forcefully eschewed Remi’s comment. The anger he himself was trying to suppress was sparkling again raw and hot; he seemed to be getting tired of the nags. He wished the person sitting here was not Remi. He wished it wasn’t a lady making all these emasculations, because he had some few befitting replies to retaliate with. But seeing that the nag was no other person than the attractive lady he had encountered, he could not return humiliation for humiliation. Perhaps she’d sleep over it and when she woke up in the morning she’d realized how terribly she’d behaved and apologize to him. Daniel would forgive her in an instant, but if he said the wrong word now, that apology might never come. Not knowing what next to do to supplicate her, he asked, “So, what do you want me to do now?” He spread out his palms.

As if she’d been waiting all along for him to ask that question, Remi replied immediately, “It’s simple, Daniel. Just carry your bags tomorrow morning and leave, before you wreak any more havoc.”

LarrySun:
I'm so sorry, my brother! Your comment escaped me. Thanks so much for following.

Okay. You like Ariel the most, right? There is an Ariel in every writer.

Yes, there is a 'piece' of Ariel in every writer.

Very harsh.

He could not believe what the lady said. He thought he must be hearing things. Was this girl trying to blame him for the arguments that ensued in the dinning room? He didn’t even utter any word there, except when he defended himself against Remi’s father’s declaration. Daniel remembered that the arguments had resulted from the patriarch’s intention to change his will. Now this girl was blaming him for that? That’s preposterous! What a family indeecd!

“Did you know that your father threatened to beat me to death if we couldn’t find you?”

“Count yourself lucky,” she replied in a manner devoid of affection. She stood up, smoothed her blouse and added, “By dawn tomorrow, you should be gone.”

“Is that what you want?” Daniel was immensely disappointed. What afflicted him therewithal was a depression of sadness which could compare to no earthly sensation more properly defined than to the afterdream of a reveler upon opium.

“Yes, that is what I want,” her face suddenly softened, “There is something going on here that I don’t want you to be involved in. You need to go.”

“What is going on, Remi? Tell me, what is going on?” He knew it! There was something behind her cold countenance, something entirely deep-rooted than the claim of he being her boyfriend. It was only a girl wanting in maturity that would be that angry over the minor peccadillo. There was something seriously sinister.

Remi carried a proud face and looked at Daniel with deep concern. She shook her head and said, “Even if I told you, you wouldn’t understand.”
He stood up and held her hands, those fragile hands. He was afraid they might snap if he held them too tightly. He directly looked into her eyes. Those eyes were now very innocent, helpless, beautiful. Her radiant face shone under the glare of the light bulb. Her lips full and sensuous. It took a lot of Daniel’s self-control to stop himself from nipping at those generous lips.

In response to her comment, he said, “Try me.”

He was meeting her gaze head-on.

“It’s about the will.” She said.

“What will?”

“Grandfather’s will; the will he wants to change.”

“What is it about the will?”

She didn’t reply immediately. She studied Daniel’s face, as if she was trying to decide if she could trust him or not. Then she finally said, “He must not change that will.”

“I think he’s already made up his mind; I’m not sure anyone can stop him now. You have to deal with it. Do you know why he wants to change his will?”

What happened next rendered Daniel speechless. Instead of answering his question, Remi began to weep. Tears rushed to her eyes. Daniel was dumbfounded; he didn’t know what to say or do. What caused the sudden tears, he could not really unravel. But he knew it came from what he had said.

Before he could rise to find a tissue or handkerchief to offer her, Remi said, “I don’t belong here. I don’t.”

She wiped off her tears with the back of her hands, smiled ruefully as she cast an embarrassed look at Daniel, “I’m sorry about that. I know that everything will be alright.”

Although he was still confused, Daniel managed to reply, “I hope so. I hope whatever is bothering you is remedied.”

“It will, very soon,” she replied, “Sooner than you think.” Then she opened the door and went out.

Daniel maintained his erect position for almost five minutes as he continued staring fixedly at the corridor beyond the opened door. It seemed like he was staring at an apparition, but he was seeing nothing; not even the door or corridor. His mind was churning wildly. His thoughts as loose as a canine unleashed. He was frowning deeply; a frown within a frown.

rapmike:
Yes, there is a 'piece' of Ariel in every writer.

You're quite right. There is a piece.

EIGHT

It was not until Daniel walked towards the door to shut it that he realized how tired he was. He presumed that everyone must have retired to bed; except, perhaps, Remi. Someone who had just wept and declared a strange determination didn’t always retire to bed to sleep the agony off. She was likely to remain cuddled at a dark corner crying her head off, all because her grandfather had suddenly decided to alter his will.

Twelve thirty. The single muffled stroke of the grandfather’s clock boomed through the walls of the rooms. The night was strangely cold, amidst the strange breeze of air produced by the ceiling fan was the swirl of the night’s coldness coming through the open window. His legs were feeling curiously weak now; he’d been standing for too long.

Daniel tried to examine his emotions as he retired to his bed. He meticulously laid a finger to his own pulse. If this was curiosity or concern, it was the kind of curiosity very different from the sorts with which he had been accustomed. A small hammer seemed to pound his temple, and his heart beat with heavy blows; but he could swear that this was not a symptom of malaria, and neither was it that of apprehension nor of curiosity.
The lights went off suddenly. The power had been interrupted. Moonlight flooded in from the window. The window itself overlooked the woods and beyond. In the faint gloom, this thicket appear to be very close to the window but Daniel knew very well that it wasn’t. it was still acres away. He could distinguish the tall timbers from the little oaks flourishing in the thickets. He moved across the room, searching, trying to find a candle or lamp. Then the lights came back on. He found himself standing before a mirror hanging from one wall. He stared at himself. He remembered someone telling him that if he looked in a mirror in the dark you could see the devil behind you. He tried to remember if he’d sensed a shadow behind him during that brief moment of gloom but he couldn’t come up with anything definite.
He saw a smooth face staring at him with rather tired eyes through the mirror and an obvious stubble around his jowl. Many times he had been complimented about his lips; they’d imagined those lips would have kissed a lot of ladies’, but Daniel knew better.

Seeing himself in the mirror, Daniel did not really take note of the pretty mouth he possessed. He saw more than mere aesthetic appreciation. His sleepy eyes hurt him, and he was conscious of a heart bumping against frail ribs. He was now struggling to keep at bay his eyes threatening to glue shut in slumber.

Staring with effort at his own reflection, Daniel missed his own quiet room in Port Harcourt, and at Kish Household. Rooms fitted with different impressive electronic gadgets and exquisite furniture. This night, he was in a strange room among strange people. He walked away from the mirror and flicked off the light-switch, but he refused to shut the window. The night was now pleasantly cool without being cold. He began to UnCloth. Sporting only his singlet and a pair of shorts, Daniel sat on the edge of the bed. He was feeling sleepy already but he didn’t know why he was forcing himself awake. He was conscious of a great drowsiness, and of the cramps in his spine from the awkward position he sat; he had not changed his sitting position for quite some time now. Somewhere, crickets began to chirp and the breeze ran among the trees with long and distant swishings. Nearly nak*d now, he could feel the cool air ran a prickly finger up his back.

There came a babel of sibilant voices from somewhere in the compound, like some people discussing, but Daniel was not sure at what he was hearing. But he believed there wouldn’t be anyone outside the house so late, maybe his ears were deceiving him. He felt increasingly sleepy; he shook his head like a stubborn doll and lay on the bed.

He roused himself out of his slumberous state but he didn’t feel like he was thoroughly awake. There is a drowsy state, between sleeping and waking, when you dream more in five minutes with your eyes half-open and you’re half-conscious of everything that passed around, than you would in five nights with your eyes firmly closed, and your sense wraps in perfect consciousness. At such times, every human knows just enough of what his mind is doing; to form some glimmering conception of its mighty powers, its bounding from earth and spurning time and space, when freed from the restraints of its corporeal associate. Daniel believed that he did not close his eyes for a moment. Swollen dreams and images, like rascals taking a pistol shot at him and an old ugly man beating the holy grail out of him, boiled through a half-waking state; all the concerns, curiosities and agitations he’d tried to repress invaded his brain immediately. The bed felt lumpy, and once, he thought he’d cried out. But he must have slept, because, when he returned to complete wakefulness, a cold pallour, not quite dawn, was visible against the window sliding glass.

Now he lay wide awake, trembling a little. His eyes were heavy, and his bones ached from exhaustion. Even in this night, birds were moving and twittering among the tendrils with an insistent petulant chorus; Daniel could hear a faint but distinct whir of wings. But he also detected some fainter footfalls which he could have sworn had been a part of his dream.
In life at night, when most things were dead asleep, only nature stood watch. And perhaps birds would stir and crickets might snore, even dogs were sometimes lazy at keeping guards.

And then, clear and high, came a scream; a horrible high-pitch scream that died away in a choke or gurgle. Daniel stood up abruptly, paralyzed, the slumber instantly cleared off his consciousness. The scream had come not from within the house but from outside under the starry sky. It was quite close to him; it seemed like it had emanated from beneath his window. He stood still for a vey short moment, trying to force rationality to his fuzzed brain, then he quickly fumbled for his nightgown. The slippers were harder to find in the unfamiliar darkness. He did not want to turn on the light; doing that would be the dumbest action in the critical moment. He found his footwears and crossed to the window, blinking out towards where he had heard the horrible footfalls; he knew he could not be the only person who’d heard that scream.

Daniel did not know whether he had leaned out of the window for too long. But the footfalls within the house continued to increase at rapid rates, like soldiers on patrol.

Then he suddenly saw a figure emerge from the bend. The figure was running. It ran past Daniel’s window at a speed he dare not guess, and Daniel was able to catch a clearer view of the form. It was a woman. He could make out the tallness of the shape, the thinness and gracefulness at which she moved even as she ran. He knew the figure – it was Remi!

Boss, your boy is learning. from you ooo...I luv ur show, I mean story.

not surprised, given the hanging threat of excluding her from the old man's will,..

Believing that, somehow, Remi was in danger, Daniel quickly dashed out of the room into the corridor, he ran down the hallway and reached another adjoining hallway. Others were running in this hallway to a certain direction, the direction of the wail. That scream had been heard all around the house.
They raced down the small stairs and round the bend of the passage, past doors of the dining room and sitting room until they came to the big entrance door. Three people were there already: Remi, the maid and Esther. Daniel sighed in relief at seeing Vera without harm, and on the other hand, he was surprised to see her there. She must have been very fast to have run round the house and come to the door here. The three women were banging at the door frantically.

“The door is locked.” Esther was saying, “The door is locked!”

David pushed past and wrestled it from her. He, too, turned and twisted at the handle. He held up his hand and in silence they all listened. No sound came from outside the house except the barking of the dog.

“We’ve got to break the door down. It’s the only way.” Daniel heard Ariel speak.

“That’s going to be a tough job, brother,” replied David. “This door is made of good solid wood. aren’t you a novelist? I thought you had to be smart to write books.”

“I have the keys.” The maid suddenly said.

“Where’s it?” they all asked in unison.

“In my room.”

“Then go and get it now!” David ordered loudly.

The maid scrambled away and returned two minutes later with a bunch of keys. Soon, the heavy door was unlocked and all rushed out.

The sight that greeted them was beyond expectation. Every face under the illumination of the moon carried a visceral show of horror and revulsion.
The view before them was the landlord of the house – Jamal Malik. The man was lying on his belly, with arms and legs spread widely apart, like an octopus. He was dead; the hilt of a knife stood on his back, and even the blood that oozed out of the stab wound was visible under the moonlight.
The only person absent among them was Hannah Malik. The eight who had responded to the scream now stood watching the corpse. None of them approached the body. Like spectators at a street-fight, they all continued watching. There was no doubt about it, Jamal Malik was dead.
The first person to speak among them was Esther, “He looks so small in death.”

There was a long shuddering sigh among them all, and then David spoke:

“The moon moves slowly but by daybreak it crosses the sky.”

Daniel, taking up the duty of a police officer he once were, walked steadily towards the figure on the ground, drifted leaves crushed as hard as snail shells under his feet. Although he knew that the man was as dead as an iced mackerel, Daniel still felt it was a necessary obligation to do that, just for certainty. Perhaps, he thought, doing that was the only thing to do aside just standing and watching. The others watched him as he stepped forward towards the body. He could feel about six pairs of eyes drilling curious holes at the back of his head.

When he reached the body he squatted beside it. He could now see the face of the corpse clearly; the eyes were still and the mouth opened as if the man had died while trying to say something. As he reached out his hand to feel the dead man’s pulse, a part of him was scared that the corpse would sputter the words ‘Don’t touch me.’ Corpses don’t make such audible complaints. Not since the days on and off the police force had he witnessed such ludicrous horror. Maybe one day he’d find one suing its murderer for homicide. If that day ever came, Daniel was sure he’d totally lose his sanity, he would, of course, have to blow his own brain out or throw himself off a tall building, or both. When his hand reached the neck the corpse did not complain, but Daniel did not feel any pulse. The victim had been killed because of who he was, where he was, what he had done, what he knew. The clues to a murder lay always in the clues to life, so Daniel had learnt.
Knowing how sacred most crimes scenes were, Daniel stood up and stepped away from the body. He walked towards the six onlookers and confirmed their beliefs.

“He’s dead.” He said, then continued, “But nothing must be touched. Remember that, nothing. No one must move close to where the body lay until the police arrive. That is most important.”

No one confronted Daniel for taking a sudden authoritative mantle in a house where he was totally a stranger. As a matter of fact, they seemed not to have heard him. They were just staring at the corpse like a heard of sheep. Jamal Malik’s personality must have been more powerful in life than was its absence in death, for on no one’s face did Daniel read any meaning to grief Most times, when murders did occur, the yet mortal’s first response was usually varied as it always was: fear, pity, fascinated interest, self-importance; a surge of heightened energy at being alive; the pleasure of sharing the news among folks; the hard-shameful excitement of blood spilt which was not one’s own. Daniel knew that each of these feelings could be found on the face of each one of them standing metres away from the corpse, but not one of them revealed a grievous countenance.

Then Anuli, David’s wife, said, “He won’t be changing the will after all.”