am on dis 1 wit u xammie...ride on

Sammy Hoe: Leebliss13 you don run reach here now now. How's life nah?

sammy, nice story there. Am following

Karev_wite: am on dis 1 wit u xammie...ride on

u sef don port abi? Welcome to Henry's world ma brother.

Good mawing hauz. Hope you all slept well. Now my uploading mode is activated, and it wld kip being so as far as dis thread is made interactive by ur comments and observations. Happy new dai 1c again buddies.

story continuation....

The two crossed the highway to get taxis to their respective homes, perhaps to go do the weekend. Ted stayed with his Uncle, who was staying single. Willis Brown, Ted’s uncle, had remained celibate since the death of his wife and only daughter in an auto crash some years back. Willis Brown adopted Ted, who was an orphan, thereafter. The man took care of him in-loco-parentis, sending him to all the schools he had attended all his lives. His uncle’s enormous care for him had made him to develop some sorts of stupendous adorations for him, always willing to be home every weekend to help him do one thing or the other, since they had got no maid to assist in the house chores. Being seldom asked who his mentor was, Ted had always said, “Willis Brown”. He had never left them with the clue that he was only talking about his uncle, since he had never discussed his family background with anyone, except Henry.

Henry’s case was in direct contrast with that of Ted. He had living parents and a little sister, who never had a bit of respect for him. The combination of the two was typical of a ‘storm in a bottle’. Since growing to the age of accountability, the two had never for once had the same view of anything—always opposite.

Her name was Kate. Though talented in fomenting troubles, she had never always gone scot-free, yet she had never given it a thought to try co-operate with her elder brother, who had always been making sure she was punished for every slight offence she had committed. When they were much younger, Mr. and Mrs. White their parents, had never at any time been tempted to take the risk of leaving the children at home to fend for themselves when they were away, not even when they had only gone to work place, to return at noon. Instead, their parents would make sure that they were kept separately under the prying eyes of two different nannies, residing in two different parts of the city. They were always being baby-sat until they got to the age of thirteen and ten respectively, when it was deemed unfit by their parents to continue lavishing their cash unnecessarily on nannies. Those times, their parents would call them together to inculcate in them how good siblings were supposed to conduct themselves.

“You both must promise to co-operate now,” Mr. White would say then. Such speech had always been accompanied with exchange of maligning words from the children—each trying to accuse the other of being the one who had brought about all the rancor that had taken place before then. Then the brawl would begin afresh again, right in front of the helpless man who had raised the issue in the first place.

Kate had smashed bottles on Henry’s head twice as punitive measures for the pain he had inflicted on her then. Henry had bludgeoned her too, oftentimes, with one particular truncheon their father had always kept inside the storehouse. Mr. White had told them long time ago, the mystery behind the aforesaid truncheon. He had said that he seized the heavy stick from a police officer who had harassed them (himself and two others) unjustly many years ago, but his children would not believe such a lose talk, on the ground that their father wouldn’t have had the mind to do that. Mr. White had to jettison the truncheon secretly one day, fearing that his kids were going to kill each other with it someday, as long as it remained in there.

On getting to the University as a freshman, Henry at first had the problem of relating with the opposite sex, probably because of his vendetta for his blood sister who had been with him since childhood, but he never regarded such aberration as a problem at all. He took all females as his sister, thus the hatred for them.

Henry’s orientation experienced a revolutionary trend the first time he did set his eyes on Cynthia, during her first year (Henry was in his second year then). There and then, Henry had felt he was going to choose her in place of a million dollar if there was to be any cause to make a choice between the two. He had valued her invaluable and priceless.

Henry had felt, oftentimes, that he was going to strangle any male who might want to be with her. Though mindful of the fact that such a one could be Ted, yet Henry was not going to soft-pedal his vow made earlier in time. But Ted wasn’t thinking about her, not even any girl, but sport only. He was the skipper of the volleyball team, playing the striking role.

Ted was not good at all in basketball—a novice in soccer too. He had tried at different sports unsuccessfully until finally discovering his talent. It seemed Ted discovered it too late, because his leg had once been broken in the football game while trying a rough tackle at a veteran master dribbler. His teeth, two incisors, one each from the upper and lower jaw, were broken too while dabbling in the hockey game. The metamorphism in his teeth then had resulted accidentally from a blow of the hooked stick owned by an opponent. However, Ted had had those broken teeth artificially shaped up again.

Henry was good in divers sports, but had never participated in any since entering the university, so no one knew he could do them. He had always been engaging himself in the reading of books, especially storybooks. He had read most of Chase’s novels and had begun to write his own too, about himself and his sister Kate.

In lieu of sporting activities, Henry was academically inclined—always interested in winning competitions; like quizzes, debates, spelling bees—having won all these at one time or the other early in his lifetime.

Kate was the exact opposite of Henry in virtually everything—gender, skills, abilities, attributes—lots more. She had always managed to score C’s in her results, frolicking frantically whenever she had such ‘Ceeish’ results. She was not athletic too—unlike Henry. In the high school, Henry represented his house in the relay race competition. Kate was envious, so she asked if she could do the same. Her housemaster doubted her, but eventually agreed to put her to test. She was to contend with some others in the same house.

Everyone made fun of her, having known that she was a lazy bone when it comes to athletics, but she summoned courage. That fateful day, the gun was fired and everyone ran with full speed. It was a 200m race. Kate was far behind. All of a sudden, she ran so fast—like a cheetah, overtaking everyone in the race. She won eventually, with a wide gap between the runner-up and herself.

It was amazing to everyone watching how she had managed to win the race, but Henry understood everything. Kate had seen a bulldog behind her, which had maneuvered its way unto the track. Since she was allergic to bulldog, she had to run as fast as her legs could afford to avoid it, so she did and won the race.

Henry felt bad about this. He told her housemaster his observation, but the man paid no attention to him, having known Henry as Kate’s antagonist. The man, following the suggestion and resolution of Kate, never let her have any further practice, so that she would not sustain injury before the main competition.

Kate was in the White house, while Henry was in Black. Initially, the two had incidentally been put in the same house (White), but Henry begged for a change of house—hence the Black House.

At the preliminary stage of the competition, Kate contended with many other athletes from different houses. It was a relay race. Having been regarded by all as the best of the racers in her house, she was made the anchor. During the last lap of the race, Kate got the baton a long time before any of her opponents did, but kept a slow pace and was soon overhauled in a short moment by all her contenders. That hectic day, she made a fool of herself before everyone. To make things worst, Kate fell flat on her face to the floor, while already maintaining her last position behind the ‘runner-up’ from the back.

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Hahahaha. Kate no go kill person oo.

Henry’s house swept the board in that competition, winning most of the gold medals. The Black House, also represented the school in the inter-school competition and won the trophy, with Henry regarded as the most colorful participant, having single-handedly won four gold medals in the various sports he had participated in.

The fact remained that everyone born to the earth had come with a specific skill—talent—pluperfect ones for that matter, because it appeared Kate had got one too—singing. She was naturally bequeathed with a very sweet voice. Although she had discovered it early enough for her to make it a profession, her parents never wanted her to become a musician. They would prefer to see her turn medical doctor, contrary to her craving.

Mr. and Mrs. White had always argued about whom Kate had actually taken after between the two of them.

“I think Henry takes after me, but Kate takes after you,” Mr. White would say and his wife would reply, “No, Henry takes after me either, she looks more like you.” They dared not say it to her face, otherwise they had to face the risk of searching for her for the next one week.

However, Kate had overheard them twice and had promised to go get drown in the river. Those times they had to beg her for couple of hours before she became calm again. Recently Kate need not eavesdrop anymore, because she had cleverly kept a voice-recording device securely in the well-furnished and gorgeous-looking lounge, noticed by nobody.

STORY MODE ACTIVATED.... .......


Mr. and Mrs. White had phobia for magic or magic-related things. They had warned their children oftentimes never to be involved in cultism of any kind.
“Listen children, in the Higher Institutions, there are enough bad guys all over there. Please don’t you go with them when you get there. They can kill you,” Gaby, Henry’s father had warned several times before Henry eventually got into the university.
“Sure, dad, you know I always won’t have time to make friends—I prefer sleep to making friends,” Henry said.
“And you know I prefer singing to—” Kate said too and paused, looking around to see her parent’s face, having realized her mistake. They leered at her, and the expressions on their faces had forced her into modifying her half-baked words instantly.
“Ringing I mean,” she said slyly but it won’t suffice to cozen her parents.
“Ringing what?” Her mother inquired sharply.
“Em—Em—ringing bell,” She said quickly. Henry burst into laughter.
“Here you are with your white lies again,” Mr. White said. She was caught red-handed this time. “Kate I’m sure going to disown you should you turn a musician—have you heard?” the man spoke up, pointing cruelly at her face.
“Heard,” said Kate disgruntled.

Henry was born three years before Kate but they had approximately the same height, though they never heard any semblance whatsoever. Henry was moderate in size, but Kate was a little chubby. He had dimples but all she had were some defacing pimples. Her pimples were the never-to-touch type since they had always culminated into ridiculously round and bulgy boils each time she had attempted to press out the pus in them.
She had used almost all the medications meant for pimples in the US, but her pustules had proved immortal. In addition, she had suffered a lot from fraudsters concerning this same issue, getting a sealed powdery charcoal for medication. She was laughed to scorn by Henry while applying it, since it was indirectly his handiwork.
“Black American!” yelled Henry mockingly at her.
“It’s soon going to be over,” she said somberly, attempting to console herself, but never knowing what sort the medication was. It was April one then, so Henry screamed, “April fool!”
Kate, still having strong confidence in the black thing, asked sharply, “What’s the April fool for?”
Henry had to take time to explain the mystery behind the ‘black medicine’ in a finicky manner to her. He said, “That was a mixture of charcoal and chilly pepper, concocted by Cypher, my High school friend.” He paused to laugh. “Check it out!”
Kate sulked and hung her head in frustration, having realized her mistakes. She was going to start real trouble with the boy, probably taking her friends with her to fight him, but she relented, having had a second thought. However, Henry never went scot-free during that period, because he was paid in his own coin too, before the second half of that same month (April). Some girls, discovered later to be Kate’s buddies, spitefully poured on him, from the second floor of one of the school structures, a pail of green gloss paint, while Henry was trudging away beneath.
“Green American!” they chuckled frenetically, but never went unpunished too—by their mistresses. They were all locked up in the school detentions for days.

Waoow sammy hoe idi ok, please spit them out!!! I love the way u articulate them

Henry’s hair was brown but Kate’s own was black and curly. Henry was the replica of his father, but Kate looked more like the relative of the neighbor next door. The two never liked walking or talking together. Their everlasting repugnancy was epitomized in the large framed picture hung in the living room, which had always been classed an eyesore of a picture by family and friends who had come around for visits in the past. In it was Henry, standing very close to his father toward the right side of the photograph, while Kate stuck to her mother—each pair being some quite considerable distances apart. This had resulted due to the never-ending disparity between the kids, forbidding to take photographs together.
Visitors never stopped making incessant derogatory comments about the ‘family photograph’, thinking that one day Mr. and Mrs. White’s marital life would break apart and each child would go with the one he or she had held unto in the photograph.
Funny enough, Henry had made several attempts to have his surname changed to the direct opposite, Black, some years back when he was still attending the same high school with her, because she had been identified as Henry’s sister then, by the name they had in common—White.
Kate had many allies but Henry did not have more than one. His friendship with anyone had never lasted up to a school term, since he never knew how to maintain friendship, since he was a nerd, and so would never have the time to spend having fun with some friends.
During Henry’s second year on campus, being on holiday, Henry adjourned to his room to take a nap. Rolling from side to side abed, sleep eluding him, he heard a sound from the door. Henry felt Kate must have returned from school, since father and mother would not be back until evening.
“That thing’s back again,” said Henry, face squeezed as if presently perceiving a nauseating odor—probably from fresh fecal matter. Kate was then in her final year in the high school.
As Henry had presumed, Kate was the anonymous ‘door-pusher’. With her came three friends—Naomi, Jane and Belinda. Kate was not aware of his presence, so she slotted a cassette, which they had brought with them, into the Video Cassette player in the parlor—music began.
Lost in the euphoria, the quartet began to sing loudly, jumping and hopping frantically to the music.
“Kate you’ve got a melodious voice,’ said one of her friends.
“Why wont I, after such long-lasting period of voice training?”
The girls didn’t go to school that particular day, being somewhere rehearsing, though creating false impressions in the minds of their parents that they had been in school since morning.
“Hope your dad and mum have stopped disturbing you—” Belinda asked Kate inquisitively.
“About what?”
“About you not to become a musician.”
“They’re going to disown me if they hear this,” she said in a slow manner.
“Why?” asked Jane.
“They’ve got aversion for music and magic.” she responded, resuming her speech having read the demanding minds of her friends. “Don’t know why?”
“When’s our next music practice—you know we’ve got to sing for ‘Paparazzi’ club next week?” Belinda said and received an instant answer.
“Let’s make it next two days,” suggested Kate. “We’ll skip some classes.”
“It’s okay, but where should we converge?” asked one of them. Immediately after the question, the atmosphere became silent, each trying to figure out a suitable rendezvous.
Going by the look of things, it was as if Henry was the one who needed the answer most. He paid rapt attention to every sound he did hear, so he would not miss out some silently spoken salient words.
After giving the asked question a serious thought, Naomi said, “At the guest house called Rendezvous—in Jones Street.”
Henry smiled belligerently on his bed, but his smile was the ephemeral type, being terminated at the thought that he did not known where the mentioned venue was located. Henry wished sorely that someone would ask where it was and his sister did just that.
“Where’s the place?” asked Kate, raising her voice.
“Kate, don’t be silly, you know RGH don’t you?” said Jane in a harsh manner, but Kate nodded in the negative.
“Then you shouldn’t claim a citizen of the US if—”
“Hey, tell me if you want to,” retorted Kate embarrassingly. “My bro. will soon be here. I’m sensing he’s not gone far.”
As Kate said that, Henry grinned on bed, muttering words to himself.
“Foolish ones! I’m right in here.”
“Okay, Jones Street abutting Hilton—or you want to deny knowing Hilton too?” replied Jane, looking serious.
“Oh my Jees—!” Kate screamed, “I Know Hilton Street quite well. I’ve been there with my family once, shopping for Christmas—but I never knew that the lane abutting it was Jones.”
“Now you know, innit?” Naomi said. “Let’s choose a date—for the training.”
Henry cuddled up to his pillow in utmost excitement. That was his usual practice whenever he was extremely excited. He held out his ears, so he could get the last thing he would need—the date and time.

“Can we make it 2pm? We mustn’t exceed two hours—two o’clock on Monday.”
Belinda’s suggestion was unanimously agreed upon without any debate preceding it. Kate saw them off to the motor road outside the house. She waved to them, walking hurriedly back home. She was puzzled, seeing Henry right inside the living room she had just left with her friends. She developed goose pimples immediately as she moved closer to him in apprehension, already having it settled in her mind that Henry had heard every bit of the plan.
Kate asked with an edgy voice; “Henry have you heard everything?”
“Every what?” yelled Henry at him, faking ignorance.
“C’mon don’t pretend as if you’ve not heard all we said,” she added uncertainly, trying to carve a way out of the looming trouble she had insinuated. Her hope was raised when Henry yelled, “Said with whom?” She revealed a dimpleless but bland smile, which made her ugly the more, on hearing Henry’s reply.
“Since you’ve not heard, never mind,” Kate said and turned heel to leave his presence, but she became transfixed at a spot by what she heard him say at that moment.
“Don’t fool yourself around, I heard it all!”
Henry’s confession sent a gush of shocking wave down her spine and rashly she yelled, “Heard what?”
“You’ve joined a music club. You brought your friends here, turned the parlor into a disco hall. I heard your voice in the cassette—it was the worst of all,” criticized Henry, sticking out his tongue in order to frustrate her more.
“Well, you can make jest of me as you like, as long as you won’t tell mum and dad about it—it’s okay by me. Or—are you going to tell?” she asked diplomatically, heart thumping faster than normal.
“Definitely yes!” replied Henry without giving it a second thought. The statement dampened her spirit. Being enervated she said in a minuscule pitch, “You want to let dad disown me—or you’ve forgotten what he said?”
“You’re of no use in this family—Kate or caterer—or whatever you call yourself,” slandered Henry, but she managed to swallow it up and kept silent, though peeved at her brother’s insulting speech. “Your absence in this family will enhance the soaring of my pocket money,” Henry continued to dole out the insults to her.
Kate knew undoubtedly that Henry was going to tell, no matter what. She felt that she could make Henry change his mind if she could possibly entice him with what she was about to mention—money. She put her clever idea into practice at once.
“What about you having my pocket money for the next three months?”
“It’s of no use,” replied Henry obstinately.
“Okay, what about me doing the house chores alone?” said Kate seriously again, but Henry refused still. In a flash, Kate had developed another idea in her mind, which she ardently believed that Henry was not going to reject, since such had always been acceptable to every mature male she had come across. She was going to test it on Henry too, perhaps he would fall for it.
“Em—what about getting you a girlfriend?” she said and raised her head to see his reaction. “Pretty one!” she added when she saw the imperviousness in the comportment of her brother.
“Shut it! Don’t need one from you! I’ll tell, no matter how long you badger me!” Henry shouted and banged at the table as if drumming to his speech in order to make it more durable. The two looked disdainfully into each other’s eyeballs, uncouthly, like a hero a villain at the end of a movie, ready to have a mortal contest. She took courage to speak later.
“No one’s going to believe you since you’ve got no evidence,” Kate told him point-blank, laughing as she took a brisk walk to her room.
Mr. and Mrs. White soon arrived. While they were still behind the door, Henry had reported Kate’s deed to them. This he did within a minute, but his parents were able to grasp the information just as if Henry had spent an hour in relaying it. It seemed as if the ability of Mr. and Mrs. White to do that had been brought about by the fact that what Henry was explaining to them was music-related; something that would catch their interest, since they wouldn’t want to buy the idea of their children involving in it.
“Kate! Come over here!” they cried as they stepped into the large lounge that was being aerated by some air-conditioning systems that were put in place around the house long time ago. They were never allergic to cold.
“Yes, I’m coming,” she responded from her room. Kate could tell from the way her parent had shouted her name that Henry had informed them about it. She was with them a couple of minutes later.
“Why d’you flout our instruction? We said don’t join music club,” her father asked, gazing at her, expecting to hear something.
“I didn’t,” she responded without delay, face wrinkled. “Who said I did that?”
“Henry,” replied her parents immediately.
Henry’s anger was kindled against her sister for the lie she had just told. He tried to suppress the vexation by keeping silent, but the urge to speak made him burst out:
“Yes, Kate you brought your friends here and played the music you’ve recorded. Then you danced and danced and—”
“Hey—Henry you said you’ll tell lies against me and that’s what you’re doin’ right now.” cried Kate in a convincingly acceptable manner. An outsider would have believed her if one was present at such moment. “Just because we didn’t give you our candies,” she added unscrupulously.
“Liar!” cried Henry jerking forward to give her a slap on the cheek, but Mrs. White held his arms back. He wriggled unsuccessfully in her grip, but soon gave up, seeing she would not permit him to do it.
“Kate—” said Mr. White. “Candy! Where did you get it from?” Kate’s father had warned her several times against the consumption of candy, fearing tooth decay. Kate had once suffered tooth decay while still very young. Back then, she was always spending all her pocket money on candies, pilfering cash sometimes from her mother’s purse to get the goodies.
Kate appeared morose instantly when her dad asked her the question, yet she was only feigning the bad mood. With the way Kate had made her countenance to appear, her father was convinced that she had really taken some candies as she’d confessed, yet that was what Kate wanted him to believe. She never took any candy at all—such display was a mere cant, just to try diverting the reality of the matter.
“Kate, did you just say that you took candy?” Mr. White yelled at her in anger.
“I’m sorry dad—” she said deceitfully, “It was my friends who brought the candies. We—er—ate them together, Henry begged us to give him some, but we refused. Then—”
“She’s lying!” barked Henry furiously, but no one was paying a bit of attention, already engrossed in her sister’s foxy tale. She spoke on:
“He threatened to tell a lie against us about joining a music club—” she paused and looked piercingly at her father’s eyeballs, “and that’s exactly what he’s doing now,” concluded Kate slyly.
“Liar!” shouted Henry persistently, violently struggling to break loose from her mother’s grip, but the opportunity was not given to him, otherwise, Kate would be in ‘soup’.
Their parents made protracted attempts to resolve the issue, telling the two parties to forget about the issue. They assured themselves that the truth would be revealed soonest.
Kate made eyes at Henry scornfully, exacerbating Henry’s hatred for her. He felt like gunning her down instantly, damning the consequence.
“Lying Kate!” he whispered to her hearing when their parents had left the parlor. Kate replied, “Thank you.”
That particular event remained indelible in Henry’s brain. It was from then Henry had begun to tell people he hated liars, having her sister in mind each time he was saying that. For the lie, Henry was sure going to make her suffer. His last hope was to disclose the rendezvous of the Music Practice to his parent. He was going to do that without her knowledge, so she could be caught red-handed while in the rehearsal venue. Henry called his parents while Kate was asleep and told them everything.

Reading mode actively enabled

“Dad, Mum—believe me—Kate’s lying,” Henry said in a low tone to avoid waking her sister up, who was having siesta in her room.
“You’re not raising that issue again—are you?” asked Mr. White. For an answer Henry said, “Dad, Something for you—here.” He produced a crumpled sheet of paper from the left pocket of his shorts. On it was boldly written, RENDEZVOUS GUEST HOUSE, JONES STREET. Though Henry had written it in a hurry, it was still legible enough for his parents to read. They were confused after reading it.
“What for?” questioned Mr. White energetically.
“It’s the address—where Kate and friends are meeting,” he said and then added, “for the party.”
“How d’you know?” they queried him.
“Well—” he smiled visibly. “Got all ears on ground—picked their discussions.”
“Where’s this place? Sounds French—or is it Paris?” Mr. White asked, face wrinkled as if annoyed with the word ‘Rendezvous’ he had just read out in the letter, pronouncing it wrongly.
“Not at all dad,” said Henry, “Just a stone throw from here.”
“You sure? Where’s it?” Mrs. White asked. Henry smirked.
“Never worry; it’s the street abutting Hilton, where we went last year shopping for Christmas.”
“Oh I remember now!” cried Mr. White with a protruded face. “How could I have forgotten so soon?”
“Yeah, so well,” said Mrs. White, remembering it too.
“So—you know the place,” Henry said, laughing heartily.
“Yeah, that’s where I picked up Sally your mama—” said Henry’s dad genuinely but hilariously, “the first time we met.” Gaby looked at his wife’s face at that instance and saw her put on a disdainful look; serious or unserious he would not tell. Being disinterested in the brisk love play his parents had just entered into, Henry tried to restore the initial matter, calling their attentions to it.
He said, “Dad, Mum, it’s serious issue.”
“Yeah—Gaby, what d’you have to say?” Mrs. White said, now fleering.
“Henry, when’s the meeting?” Gaby asked his son in return.
“2pm Monday.”
“I’ll be on duty then, else I’d be glad to pay her a surprise visit—there,” said Gaby, shaking his head sorrowfully.
“Huh!” Sally said also. “I’m on duty too.”
“What the hell!” cried Henry furiously as he envisaged the abortiveness of his plan. “What about skipping work—at least for only that day?" Henry raised a suggestion. Four eyes expanded as Henry ended his advice, but all mouths were mute. Henry waited anxiously to hear a response. Mrs. White later seconded Henry’s idea by saying, “Yes Gaby, I think that was a good suggestion Henry had raised. At least one day out of job won’t change anything.”
“Oh, Sally you’re right,” said the man, quickly accepting it, “but I’m suggesting we get to work that day—” Gaby said, resuming his speech after gulping his spittle, “and leave for home by noon,” he concluded.
Gaby had always been a studious type of person, so he wouldn’t buy the idea of missing a whole day job. That was exactly the reason he had to modify his wife’s and son’s suggestion. However, Sally agreed with the modified version of the plan.
“Oh! It’s great idea,” said Sally, nodding her head slowly, as if choreographing to a music having its source from the huge and old radio set placed on the shelf. “Isn’t it two, Henry?” she asked.
“Yeah! 2pm, Monday.”
“We should be back by twelve that day,” said Mr. White. “Isn’t it okay by you—Sally?”
“Okay,” she replied nodding in approval.
“It’s bed-time, goodnight Henry,” said the man, pulling his wife closer to him as they made for their room. Henry was lost in thought, seeing them together. He thought of Cynthia once again before retiring to his room to pernoctate. The thought that grazed his mind that moment was the one of a legitimate blissful connubial relationship with the Chinese campus girl—Cynthia.

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Next day Henry called Kate and gave her some cakes and chocolates, which she boggled to accept at first.
“Kate, take this cake,” Henry had said when trying to give those confectioneries to his sister. She was nursing the thought that it was poisoned, but being a chocoholic, she could not resist the urge to help her stomach with them. Kate had often told friends that the reason she had loved taking chocolates was that they always remained sweet, even while already in her tummy.
“It’s like I’ve got a tongue inside of me—” she would say, “when confectioneries are in there.” She would josh often while consuming them in the presence of her buddies.
However, she knew Henry was up to something for unwontedly approaching her in such affable manner, on that genially lovely Friday morning while she was preparing for school. It was only two days ago Henry was having a hot brawl with her. Such early dramatic display got her suspicion aroused. She was going to watch out for whatever Henry had got up his sleeves. She’d always been on the alert for any pranks he was going to play on her since that particular April one, when she had used the powdered charcoal to adorn her face in order to get rid of the many stubborn pustules on her face then.
Henry said, “Kate, I’m very sorry for telling dad you’ve joined the music club.”
“Huh,” she sounded, nonplussed.
“It isn’t going to happen again,” he said spuriously. “I promise.”
“Big brother, why the sudden change? It’s creepy I mean!” She gave the chocolate a hard bite, chewing it with relish, immediately feeling her appetite whetted by its luscious taste.
“Kate, I’m now mature—” said Henry, “and I don’t seem to see any point in having a life-long quarrel with one’s sister anymore.”
“But—” she paused, almost falling for it, “when did you come ‘bout this—I mean the thought? You got mature overnight?” Kate said, beaming her eyes in surprises at Henry as she licked her lips, whose bridges the Chocolaty things had smeared.
“Yesterday, when I paid Treece a visit,” replied Henry fast, as an answer to her question.
Treece was Henry’s friend back in the high school, known to Kate, but she was not aware of whether the two were still having contacts with one another after graduating from there. To Kate, Treece was a good-natured person then, and it could have been possible for such a boy to have taught Henry some good ethics if really Henry’s claim was true. Treece was someone Kate had ever admired, though never approaching him to share her feelings with him all through his time in the school.
Treece had three siblings—all females. Being the eldest, his sisters would form clusters around him each time they were walking down to school. Kate had always been jealous, never envisaging that it could be possible for her to have such kind of splendid intimate relationship with Henry, her blood brother one day. With the way it seemed now, Kate’s thought must have turned around, at least after tasting the confectioneries.
“How about him?” asked Kate, rather inquisitively, “Did he advise you do this?”
“No. I saw him fondly having fun with Betty, his sister.”
“And…”
“It sent a message to my damn brain instantly.” Henry voiced out captivatingly, displaying a great deal of genuineness, but contrived and superficial, all aimed at misleading her.
“We have fun too—isn’t it?” said Kate, “Before now.” She laughed heartily in a silly manner.
“Hey, Kate, it isn’t funny!” said Henry, attempting to call back her attention to what he had to say more, but she was impervious to his words, still laughing.
“We have fun—a lot of it,” she said stubbornly, amidst laughter, smacking and licking her lips to get rid of the chocolate stuck to them.
“Irony!” said Henry, pissed, but not showing it.
“Isn’t it fun when you hit that big truncheon on me daily those days, before dad got rid of it?” she lamented and was soon shedding tears—crocodile tears.
“I’m sorry,” Henry said. It was the first he would ever say to her, since birth. But right there in the corner of his mind, he had got something else—perhaps to tell her later—if his plan would work out.
“Sorry my foot!” that was the thought in his mind.
“So what are you going to use to salvage that apology of yours?” she asked. “Only cake and choco—?”
“I’m not done yet,” he replied, looking straight into her eyeballs. She was shy.
“Listen to me, still on Treece and sister—I saw them hug each other in a mesmerizing love, of the greatest ardor and splendor never once witnessed all my lives.”
“And—” she barged in callously, losing patience.
“Let me land,” said Henry. He was afforded the silence he needed. Then he said, “That moment, I had to change my orientation concerning how our rapport with each other was supposed to be—like Treece’s and Betty’s.”
“Oh!” she exclaimed.
“I felt like holding you in my arms right there—in Treece’s lounge.” Henry’s countenance suddenly changed—sniffing morosely —like a baby set to whine.
“Really!” she whispered. Seemed Henry had subdued her, making her believe what was not.
“Yeah,” he said, tears running down his cheeks. If those tears were literally crocodile tears, maybe Kate would have detected they were fake while mopping it for him with a napkin; at least the texture could have made the difference.
“But—It’s not too late.” said Kate. “The hug I mean.” She had said that indirectly, being shy. It was something they had never done; therefore, it was not her fault that she did not know how to ask him for a hug. Nevertheless, Henry understood her. He came closer and hugged her.

Still entwined in the embrace, innumerable inimical thoughts of different grievous gravities flipped endlessly through Henry’s brain. Henry had brought to mind the thought of a villain in the movie he had watched while still young, who stabbed his father, a king, with a dagger while in a hug. He also remembered a biblical character, called Joab, who did the same to Abner while embracing too. Figuratively, that was exactly what he was doing with her sister.
Tears teemed down their cheeks passionately, with no suspicion of hypocrisy. At last, Henry lifted her up and said, “I love you.”
It was a statement Kate had never heard from anyone all her lives. She smiled innocuously in a conspicuous manner and said, “Love you too.”
After the scene, Henry retired to his bedchamber, not to sleep, but to release the belligerent laughter he had managed to keep away while with Kate. He had hardly entered when he burst into a loud and long guffaw. He had to sink his face into the pillow to suppress its loudness so Kate would not discover his cant.

Karev_wite: sammie am here wit u o...b4 u xai u'r lonley.

so so happy ...I'll dedicate a post to you soon...

Sammy Hoe:
so so happy ...I'll dedicate a post to you soon...

yipeeeeee!!!

Why is d update short na please try and bring longer one biko. Interesting story and u one of d greatest writers we talk about

Dedicated to Karev Wite who has stuck to me more than a blood brother...


Monday came and Kate was set for school. Since the day the two had first hugged each other, it had become a routine for them to keep doing such, but always in the absence of their parents. Henry had eagerly been waiting for the advent of that Monday, when that apparent cordial relationship would be checked.
As it had been for three days, Kate hugged Henry once more as she was set for school that red-letter Monday morning.
“The last hug,” thought Henry, smiling benignly in an attempt to conceal his evil intention. Their parents saw them in such state for the first time and the sight staggered them. However, they controlled the urge to intrude into the matter until Kate had left for school.
“Who used the spell—” said Mr. White and paused briefly. Then he resumed, “between the two of you?”
“Which spell?” said Henry, pretending as if he never had any idea as regards what his father had just asked. His father expatiated, “I mean, when did you start to like your sister?” Henry grimaced suddenly and snapped his fingers (both the ones on his right and left hands) as he said, “Like her? Never!” They were confused the more, looking at their son with poker faces.
Mrs. White soon found her voice, then she said, “Why the embrace then?” in an inquisitive manner. Henry chortled and said, “Just pretending, so she won’t suspect what’s going to happen today.”
“What?” sounded the four-letter word from their lips, synchronously, in a humongous mode, having been amplified by the synergic effect of their voices.
“Music practice at RENDEZVOUS of course!” said Henry and the two exclaimed, “Huh!” remembering it.
“It’s true, today’s Monday,” said his father with a loud voice.
“Henry, you’re small devil,” added his mother jokingly.
Henry spent his time at home that day thinking of how the outing would go.
“She’ll run at our sight, but I’ll chase after her,” thought Henry.
“No, she’ll not see us at all,” he argued all alone. “She’ll be engrossed in what she’s doing, so she won’t be aware of our presence. Dad and Mum will tie her; her friends will scatter; their plans will be shattered.” He then smiled. “Me? I’ll pinch hell out of her body when she is taken to the Black Maria, because a cop will be involved.”
“She will be dumped in the prison. Yes, got it.” He left the front of the large mirror in the lounge where he had been all the while, speaking out his mind.

christe james: Why is d update short na please try and bring longer one biko. Interesting story and u one of d greatest writers we talk about

I love dishing it out only when people asked for it. Now because you want it longer, you shall not linger any longer to get it... You have just won yourself a long post dedicated to you.

Dedicated to Christe James....

Dedicated to Christe James....


At noon, Henry’s father arrived, almost around the same time with his wife’s arrival too. Henry never remembered to greet them. He said, “Dad, Mum, let’s get going.”
“Ain’t we going to have little rest? It’s only 12.45 pm,” said Mr. White, pulling the button of the collar of his shirt. Then Mrs. White said, “Gaby, were you granted permission?”
“No, I sneaked out. I pray my boss will not discover.”
“I’m lucky,” said Sally. “I was permitted, unlike you.”
They set out some minutes to 2pm. At Henry’s advice, two cops escorted them. They had truncheons with them—something Kate wouldn’t want to be hit with. Their cars pulled up in front of the place. It was then few minutes past two. The Police officer got inside the edifice. They combed everywhere but could not find Kate and mates. Henry suggested that they waited for her in hiding.
For forty-five minutes, they were in a corner, peeping to see if she was coming. Just when they were about to give up, Mr. White’s phone rang.
“Dad,” Kate spoke. “I’ve been waiting here for the past one-hour. Henry’s not home, so I can’t get inside, since he’s with the key.”
“Kate, where are you?” asked Mr. White.
“Home,” she said. “For the past one-hour now,” she had exaggerated, having arrived only few minutes ago. She could be justified since no one was around to gainsay the claim.
“Alright, very soon we shall be home too,” Gaby said, feeling highly embarrassed. Henry was looking here and there like a vigilante.
“Henry!” screamed Mr. White. Then his phone rang again. It was his boss this time. He smelt rat instantly. Trouble!
Reluctantly, he picked it.
“Where are you Mr. White?” Gaby’s employer spoke instantly without any salutation coming before.
“Em—I- I…” stuttered the man in reply.
“Alright—” said his boss, “just consider yourself suspended for three weeks.” The man at the other end cut the call. The police officers said, “What’s going on?”
“Sorry for everything,” apologized Mr. White. “It’s this boy; he misled us all.” The man gesticulated as he spoke. “Thanks—you can leave now.”
“Leave!” they screamed, “Somebody must be arrested!” said the cops in fury for the time they had wasted in laying ambush for a ‘wild goose’.
They all went silent. Mr. White spoke:
“Well…you can take him. He caused it all.”
Henry’s mother was in full support of her husband’s decision. She said, “Yeah, go with him.”
Henry could have raced away, but he knew it was not feasible, rifles being pointed at him. They led him to their vehicle.
“Come for him with a bail whenever you are ready,” said the more elderly of the cops.
Kate was not as foolish as Henry had thought. Since Henry had disclosed to their parents that she was in a music club, she knew he was also going to tell them about the rendezvous for practice, (Rendezvous Guest House) so she had informed her friends of this, therefore the earlier scheduled meeting was annulled.
When Henry was trying to pull the wool over her face by the pretentious hug and the chocolates, she was not deceived at all then. While Henry was busy with the gruesome thoughts, during the hug, Kate was thinking too. It seemed she did see him with a knife then, intending to stab her. She was convinced that Henry’s attitude to her at that moment was a bogus one, when she heard him laugh loudly immediately he had entered his room that day after the clinch. Having discovered the truth, Kate had immediately called for the cancellation of the earlier scheduled rehearsal.
Mr. White never had any feeling of compassion for Henry during the periods he did spend in the cell, chafing at his wife often during her several attempts to inveigle him into releasing their son. His extreme annoyance could be traced to the fact that Gaby had detested the manner in which his superior had humiliatingly dished him the suspension. He had never loved to be home idle when a lot of work was waiting to be done by him somewhere. It pained Henry’s workaholic father that he would have to be home for three weeks, doing nothing.
Eventually, Mrs. White pleas stopped falling on deaf ears. Gaby agreed to get Henry out on bail, but he had spent one month already in the dungeon without being paid a visit by his father.
Undoubtedly, Kate’s halcyon days were those days Henry was away, in prison. She enjoyed every thing both of them should have had to share—money, meals, merriments and lots more. She gained a great deal of weight within that period. She wished Henry never returned, preferring to see him dead in the cell. But contrary to her wishes, Henry arrived, lean, wan and feeble, face pallid, hair bedraggled and mouth smelly, since he did not take care of his teeth properly while in gaol.
As if Henry had not been humiliated enough, Kate, upon his arrival, aggravated her brother’s condition by her words to him.
“Your chocolate is yummy in my tummy,” she had said, wrapping it up with ridiculous smiles. Such statement was the regurgitation of Henry’s mocking expressions in the past, whenever he was forcing himself on Kate to get her chocolate. Now it was Kate’s turn to pay him back in his own coin
Henry was silent. He did not say a word to anyone at home. He had got a whole month to spend before resumption, having spent the first half of his holiday in police custody.
Three days later, Henry was missing. His parents feared that he must have gone out to kill himself, but Kate knew such could never have happened, suggesting that he had gone back to school. His parent’s visit to the school confirmed Kate’s thought. He had left secretly for school.

He felt a touch on his shoulder, which jolted him out of his reverie. It was the dean’s hand.
“Henry, you must have thought about it—”said the dean, looking directly into his eyeballs, “long enough.”
“Uhm,” Henry said, “Maybe.”
“So…” said the dean, gesticulating, “D’you want this power?”
“Em—sir what’s going to be my profit?”
“Don’t let me repeat myself. You’re going to have power—to control whatever—see the future.”
“I’m interested,” accepted Henry. At least he was going to have the power to control his younger sister.

INITIATED

“Henry, I’m a club member and I’ll like you join me in it,” Ted said.
“Club? When d’you join?”
“Two years ago.”
“What’s it all about?”
“All about getting the best in all aspects of life. Academicians of various calibers are there.” Ted said. “I’m sorry I’ve not told you this long ago.”
“Why?” said Henry, face looking a bit disfigured. “Why’re you just telling me now?”
“I’m sorry; It was because I had erroneously thought you won’t have interest in such.”
“Why d’you think so?”
“You don’t like meeting people, do you?”
“You’re right,” said Henry. “But I’m already working on my social life, since the day I set my eyes on Cynthia.” Ted frowned because of the name Henry had just mentioned. Then he said, “That’s good friend. A hundred percent social life will do no harm to anyone. ”
“Okay, your club, where’s it situated, California here?” Henry asked inquiringly, already developing interest. For a reply Ted said, “Just come to my room 6pm—tomorrow. I’ll take you there.”
Henry Exclaimed. “6pm! Oops! Ted I’m sorry I can’t make it.”
“Why?” asked Ted.
“Cos I’ve got to go somewhere with another man—same time, same date,” he said coolly. “Maybe another time,” Henry concluded.
Ted was nosy, so he asked, “May I know who you’re going with and where?”
“Never worry,” said Henry. He wished Ted would not insist on knowing it.
Ted said, “When did you begin to hide things from me? Is it Cynthia you’re dating tomorrow?”
“She’s not,” said Henry point-blank. “She’s adamant.”
“No problem if you don’t want to tell me.”
Henry could have told Ted, but he was not going to. However, Ted smiled and left Henry alone. As Henry walked towards the lecture room, (he was an hour late already) he met Cynthia.
“Hi Cynthia,” he said, already having the thought of forfeiting lecture to spent some time with her, but she was in a hurry.
“Hi Henry,” she replied, leaving without saying more than that.
Professor Wilson was already in the class when Henry entered.
“Henry, you’re an hour late, why?” he asked.
“I- I…” Henry stammered and every one laughed. He overheard someone say that he had seen him in the library studying. Another shouted, “Bookworm!”
“Henry, you’ve got to see me after class,” said the professor. Henry’s eyes bulged on hearing it. The students laughed.
Actually, Henry was in the library all the while. He was coming out from there when he met Ted. He was not studying in there, but was reading some novels instead. Since he had the ability to read very fast, he was enamored with reading novels, which had eventually become his hobby. He had read many of Chase’s books and had begun to write his own too.
Henry soon went to the dean’s office.
“I’m sorry I came late to…”
“Sorry for what? I’ve not called you here to discuss your lateness. The early comers what have they got to show for it? Nothing!” He looked at Henry’s face and smiled, “Henry guess what!” said the dean. The expression on Henry’s face on hearing the words had passed a message to the man’s brain. Henry was scared of guessing.
“Okay, I can see you have phobia for guessing, isn’t it?” said the man and Henry nodded pretentiously, in order to let the dean say what he had to say. Henry was only trying to save time by his deeds.
“Well,” said the man, smiling. “It’s my birthday—today,” he said. “It’s special to me—happens only once in four years.”
“February 29, it’s true,” said Henry.
“I have never remembered to celebrate it. Since it is once every four years, it skips my memory.”
“Really!” exclaimed Henry. “It’s creepy.”
“Funny too. Last year, 1983, on February 28, I informed family and friends about my birthday to come next day, February 29. They all agreed to show up at the party. The party ground was set early enough as planned, the next day, but no one showed up.”
“Why?” asked Henry, pretending as if he never had an idea.
“Well, asking a friend later, he said that he checked his calendar the day that was supposed to be my birthday, only to discover it was March 1. So he felt there was no need for coming to my party anymore, since February 29 had decided not to surface.”
“Wow!” screamed Henry, amused by the short story, then the dean changed the mood abruptly.
“Hey, I called you here—” said the dean, “to remind you of tomorrow’s schedule. You still remember?”
“Yes sir—vividly.”
“You’ve told anyone?”
“No.”
“That’s good,” said the man. “You need not tell any one. Is that okay?”
“Yes sir,” he replied, but got some instant formation of questions in his brain, to ask the dean.
“Sir, where are we going tomorrow? Is it by rail, air or road?”
“Don’t worry your head,” the dean said. Meet me here tomorrow, okay?”
“Sure sir.”
At night, Henry could not sleep. He was overworking his brain, giving it lots of thoughts. Such had been his manner whenever he was curious about something.
What his parents’ reactions would be was part of what he was ruminating.
“Will they disown me? But Kate wasn’t disowned when she became a musician eventually.” At the thought of Kate, Henry’s countenance metamorphosed into a gloomy type. “I hate her. I’ve never prevailed over her.”
When Kate eventually joined herself to a professional music band called ‘The Lioness’, though secretly, Henry discovered it and divulged the secret to their parents. Kate came home one fateful day with her friends. Henry had kept a voice recorder somewhere in the room. Though Henry was not home when they came, yet the device recorded their speeches. In the course of the discussion, the friends spoke about a cassette, which they had kept in Kate’s school bag. Henry was able to locate the cassette as a result of the information he had got from the hidden device.
Henry played the cassette. She was performing on stage in it with her colleagues. Henry was almost carried away with the music, which was played andante. Kate was the lead singer in it, with an angelic voice. Henry was already nodding his head from side to side to the rhythm when he suddenly came to himself. He stopped abruptly and frowned.
Henry kept the cassette. He was not going to let her know about it; else, his plan would go awry again, like the one that had led him to prison.
Henry showed his parents the cassette at their arrival. They saw Kate in it, dazzling in front of many spectators. She was caught red-handed this time. Kate was shown the cassette. She was taken aback by it.
Henry was patiently waiting for the verdict, disownment, but he was making a mistake. Mr. and Mrs. White said, “What did we tell you Kate?”
“I shouldn’t become a musician,” she said, looking miserable.
“Then why this?” They pointed to her image on the screen, which was twirling in rigorous dances.
“Mum, dad, you can’t understand—I mean that’s the only talent I’ve got in the world,” she said, weeping solemnly.
“But we want you to be a doctor,” Mr. White said.
“Unfit. I can assure you lots of lives will be lost,” she said. Everywhere was silent after her speech. Henry was leering inimically at her, but she took no heed, probably because of her sight being blurred by the accumulation of tears dropping like dilute acid from a pipette, in drops—then in excess.
After moments of thinking by her parents, they said, “Kate you know what?” she could not answer, since her voice had become hoarse by the incessant weeping. “As long as you’re not going to join magic cult you are allowed to be a musician.”
Hearing such, she jumped from her seat to hug them. They received her with open arms. Wiping her face, she made eyes at Henry. Henry was jealous. He was getting prepared to leave the lounge when his father suddenly said, “Henry, please can you just raise the volume of the music, so that we can clearly hear its lyrics?” Henry ignored them in embarrassment and walked out of the room, abashed. Outside the door, Henry hit hard on the floor as if to artificially generate seismic wave from it—the type that would result into intense earthquake, which would swallow him up. Since the floor was the reinforced type, it did not pave way for “Henry’s wave” to pass through.

INITIATED

“Henry, I’m a club member and I’ll like you join me in it,” Ted said.
“Club? When d’you join?”
“Two years ago.”
“What’s it all about?”
“All about getting the best in all aspects of life. Academicians of various calibers are there.” Ted said. “I’m sorry I’ve not told you this long ago.”
“Why?” said Henry, face looking a bit disfigured. “Why’re you just telling me now?”
“I’m sorry; It was because I had erroneously thought you won’t have interest in such.”
“Why d’you think so?”
“You don’t like meeting people, do you?”
“You’re right,” said Henry. “But I’m already working on my social life, since the day I set my eyes on Cynthia.” Ted frowned because of the name Henry had just mentioned. Then he said, “That’s good friend. A hundred percent social life will do no harm to anyone. ”
“Okay, your club, where’s it situated, California here?” Henry asked inquiringly, already developing interest. For a reply Ted said, “Just come to my room 6pm—tomorrow. I’ll take you there.”
Henry Exclaimed. “6pm! Oops! Ted I’m sorry I can’t make it.”
“Why?” asked Ted.
“Cos I’ve got to go somewhere with another man—same time, same date,” he said coolly. “Maybe another time,” Henry concluded.
Ted was nosy, so he asked, “May I know who you’re going with and where?”
“Never worry,” said Henry. He wished Ted would not insist on knowing it.
Ted said, “When did you begin to hide things from me? Is it Cynthia you’re dating tomorrow?”
“She’s not,” said Henry point-blank. “She’s adamant.”
“No problem if you don’t want to tell me.”
Henry could have told Ted, but he was not going to. However, Ted smiled and left Henry alone. As Henry walked towards the lecture room, (he was an hour late already) he met Cynthia.
“Hi Cynthia,” he said, already having the thought of forfeiting lecture to spent some time with her, but she was in a hurry.
“Hi Henry,” she replied, leaving without saying more than that.
Professor Wilson was already in the class when Henry entered.
“Henry, you’re an hour late, why?” he asked.
“I- I…” Henry stammered and every one laughed. He overheard someone say that he had seen him in the library studying. Another shouted, “Bookworm!”
“Henry, you’ve got to see me after class,” said the professor. Henry’s eyes bulged on hearing it. The students laughed.
Actually, Henry was in the library all the while. He was coming out from there when he met Ted. He was not studying in there, but was reading some novels instead. Since he had the ability to read very fast, he was enamored with reading novels, which had eventually become his hobby. He had read many of Chase’s books and had begun to write his own too.
Henry soon went to the dean’s office.
“I’m sorry I came late to…”
“Sorry for what? I’ve not called you here to discuss your lateness. The early comers what have they got to show for it? Nothing!” He looked at Henry’s face and smiled, “Henry guess what!” said the dean. The expression on Henry’s face on hearing the words had passed a message to the man’s brain. Henry was scared of guessing.
“Okay, I can see you have phobia for guessing, isn’t it?” said the man and Henry nodded pretentiously, in order to let the dean say what he had to say. Henry was only trying to save time by his deeds.
“Well,” said the man, smiling. “It’s my birthday—today,” he said. “It’s special to me—happens only once in four years.”
“February 29, it’s true,” said Henry.
“I have never remembered to celebrate it. Since it is once every four years, it skips my memory.”
“Really!” exclaimed Henry. “It’s creepy.”
“Funny too. Last year, 1983, on February 28, I informed family and friends about my birthday to come next day, February 29. They all agreed to show up at the party. The party ground was set early enough as planned, the next day, but no one showed up.”
“Why?” asked Henry, pretending as if he never had an idea.
“Well, asking a friend later, he said that he checked his calendar the day that was supposed to be my birthday, only to discover it was March 1. So he felt there was no need for coming to my party anymore, since February 29 had decided not to surface.”
“Wow!” screamed Henry, amused by the short story, then the dean changed the mood abruptly.
“Hey, I called you here—” said the dean, “to remind you of tomorrow’s schedule. You still remember?”
“Yes sir—vividly.”
“You’ve told anyone?”
“No.”
“That’s good,” said the man. “You need not tell any one. Is that okay?”
“Yes sir,” he replied, but got some instant formation of questions in his brain, to ask the dean.
“Sir, where are we going tomorrow? Is it by rail, air or road?”
“Don’t worry your head,” the dean said. Meet me here tomorrow, okay?”
“Sure sir.”
At night, Henry could not sleep. He was overworking his brain, giving it lots of thoughts. Such had been his manner whenever he was curious about something.
What his parents’ reactions would be was part of what he was ruminating.
“Will they disown me? But Kate wasn’t disowned when she became a musician eventually.” At the thought of Kate, Henry’s countenance metamorphosed into a gloomy type. “I hate her. I’ve never prevailed over her.”
When Kate eventually joined herself to a professional music band called ‘The Lioness’, though secretly, Henry discovered it and divulged the secret to their parents. Kate came home one fateful day with her friends. Henry had kept a voice recorder somewhere in the room. Though Henry was not home when they came, yet the device recorded their speeches. In the course of the discussion, the friends spoke about a cassette, which they had kept in Kate’s school bag. Henry was able to locate the cassette as a result of the information he had got from the hidden device.
Henry played the cassette. She was performing on stage in it with her colleagues. Henry was almost carried away with the music, which was played andante. Kate was the lead singer in it, with an angelic voice. Henry was already nodding his head from side to side to the rhythm when he suddenly came to himself. He stopped abruptly and frowned.
Henry kept the cassette. He was not going to let her know about it; else, his plan would go awry again, like the one that had led him to prison.
Henry showed his parents the cassette at their arrival. They saw Kate in it, dazzling in front of many spectators. She was caught red-handed this time. Kate was shown the cassette. She was taken aback by it.
Henry was patiently waiting for the verdict, disownment, but he was making a mistake. Mr. and Mrs. White said, “What did we tell you Kate?”
“I shouldn’t become a musician,” she said, looking miserable.
“Then why this?” They pointed to her image on the screen, which was twirling in rigorous dances.
“Mum, dad, you can’t understand—I mean that’s the only talent I’ve got in the world,” she said, weeping solemnly.
“But we want you to be a doctor,” Mr. White said.
“Unfit. I can assure you lots of lives will be lost,” she said. Everywhere was silent after her speech. Henry was leering inimically at her, but she took no heed, probably because of her sight being blurred by the accumulation of tears dropping like dilute acid from a pipette, in drops—then in excess.
After moments of thinking by her parents, they said, “Kate you know what?” she could not answer, since her voice had become hoarse by the incessant weeping. “As long as you’re not going to join magic cult you are allowed to be a musician.”
Hearing such, she jumped from her seat to hug them. They received her with open arms. Wiping her face, she made eyes at Henry. Henry was jealous. He was getting prepared to leave the lounge when his father suddenly said, “Henry, please can you just raise the volume of the music, so that we can clearly hear its lyrics?” Henry ignored them in embarrassment and walked out of the room, abashed. Outside the door, Henry hit hard on the floor as if to artificially generate seismic wave from it—the type that would result into intense earthquake, which would swallow him up. Since the floor was the reinforced type, it did not pave way for “Henry’s wave” to pass through.

MARCH 1, 1984

Henry walked eagerly to school next day, from the hostel. He saw Ted waving at him distances away. He spoke loudly from where he was:
“Henry, see you in the meeting this evening!”
“Meeting?” Henry thought. “I thought I’ve told him I’m not gonna make it.”
After the day lecture, Susie approached him. If Henry had been aware of her presence on time, he would have sneaked away. She was already very close before Henry was able to realize it. Not that she had a small stature for him not to have noticed her presence on time. At least she was having an enormous stature, just like Kate, Henry’s sister.

Susie wasn’t athletic too, but a bit plump instead. She had frog-like eyeballs, which appeared as if glaring at anyone she had come across. However, it seemed they had functioned like Galilean telescopes, since she did profess that everything she did saw appeared closer to her than they really were. She was so proud of such exceptional ability that she gave herself the name “Mrs. Spy”.
Susie was among the myriad of ladies, who always felt that having Henry as an inamorato would be the best thing that could ever happen to them, believing that Henry, who was the most brilliant in their level, according to a general conclusion, could bring them to limelight, if only they were intimately close to him. However, Cynthia wasn’t in such school of thought. Her predilection for sport, basketball especially, had possibly affected her choice. She loved sport men.

Susie, being Henry’s departmental mates, had invited him to her parties several times, but he had never honored one, giving flimsy and shoddy excuses. Susie was never tired of inviting him and he was never tired of rejecting her invitations too. Susie was not a tetchy type of person. She did show much level of maturity, beaming with incredible auspiciousness, believing that persistence was the secret to getting whatever one was craving after. But, if her principle was a general type, she might not win Henry over, because Henry too was working with the same principle—to get Cynthia.
“Henry,” she called. She was going to ask him out once again. “I’m sure you won’t say yes.”
“To what?” asked Henry.
“What I’m about to ask—”
“I’ll say yes,” said Henry rashly, not looking up at her face.
It was Henry’s usual practice to frustrate her effort, by saying something to negate her words, but Henry was not aware that Susie could be tricky sometimes.
She smiled and said, “Are you going to come with me—” She lowered her face to look into his eyes, “for dinner at dusk—six pm?” she concluded with a smile.

Henry discovered his foolishness at once. He had earlier promised to say yes.
“Sorry, can’t say yes this time,” said Henry regretfully.
“Why?” she asked. “I thought you said you don’t tell lies and you hate liars.”
“It’s true.”
“Then why changing your words? You said you’ll say yes.”
“I’m Sorry,” said Henry. “I would have loved to come with you, but I’m having a date with someone else.”
“Do you care if I know who?” said Susie. She had never seen Henry hang around with any girl, so she was eager to know who it was Henry would be dating. Henry hesitated.
“With the dean,” Henry grimaced after his speech. Susie mustered superficial laughter.
“Are you guys gays?” she japed and laughed again. Amidst laughter Henry said, “No. just that we’ve agreed to meet… for something important.”

Ending his speech, Henry felt like a betrayer for telling her about the meeting. The Professor had asked Henry not to tell anyone that he would be taking him somewhere, but Henry had just made the mistake of letting out the secret to Susie. His visage was dull instantly. He left her on that spot, striding away with fast and quick steps usual with a fella who was ten minutes late for duty.

Happy Sunday Everyone!!!

Henry ideated the Professor asking him if he had told anybody about the meeting. He quickly got it settled beforehand the response he would give.
Few minutes to the scheduled time, Henry got to the dean’s office, but leaned against the door for few moments before summoning the courage to go in, being afraid that the dean, utilizing the said magical power, would perceive his breach of promise.
“You’re here at last.”
“Yes sir.” He gazed on the tiled and glossy floor. Keeping silent, he fixed his gaze on the well-painted wall, then to the glass of coffee, placed on a small table between himself and the dean. The coffee in it was so little that it would hardly satisfy the thirst of a newly born baby.
The man looked earnestly on him and said, “You’ve told somebody, isn’t it?” Henry was not going to let the dean beat him to it. He was going to see if the man was establishing a fact or only asking a question. He kept quiet, expecting him to say it again.
The man felt that Henry did not hear his speech clearly, so he said, “Have you told somebody?” in a louder tone. To give an answer seemed difficult, because Henry’s conscience was actively knocking the door of his heart, as if to burgle the rib cage and get him arrested if he told a lie. To keep it quiet Henry was going to play a trick on it, which should also be effective enough to trick the dean.
“Uh—” sounded Henry as he kept silent, thinking, “Susie isn’t worth somebody to me. She’s nobody.”
The impatient man shouted, “Hey, tell me, have you told somebody?”
“I’ve not told somebody. I only told—”
“Who?” shouted the Professor, extremely curious.
“I only told Nobody,” he said trickily, and the man fell for it, chuckling ignorantly as he said, “You and this repartee of yours…”
Henry had many strategies he used in deceiving people and his conscience too. The one he had just used was only one of those numerous strategies.
“Have your seat.” The dean pointed to a rocking chair directly opposite him. “You’ll see for yourself today in the meeting, the coming together of lots of people from all works of life. Just count yourself lucky that you’ll soon be in their midst.”
Henry coughed. It was a sign to tell the man that he was bored of too much of talks, but was expecting to begin the journey instantly, to the meeting place, not knowing how far or near the place would be, to the campus.
Making his right hand into a cylindrical form, by folding his fingers, the Professor yawned into the cavity formed as he continued:
“You’re going to meet with great men of great achievements. Doctors, Lawyers, Professors, Inventors, Astronauts, Students ...”
“People of different caliber,” intruded Henry. “What will they be doing there?” he asked.
“Sharing great ideas. That’s why I said you’ll have all knowledge and the ability to see the future.”
“How?”
“Combination of skills from all the represented profession over there will tantamount to power—for you… for me… and… for all.”
Already losing patience, Henry decided to hasten up the discussion. Just as he was about to say something the dean said, “I’m going to ask you seven questions Henry, then we shall leave after you’ve provided the answers.”