AMID SECRETS - CHAPTER 16
*Maduka’sPOV*
Friday night sees us on the parking lot of Barnex Hotel at Anthony Village, near Maryland. Beside me in my car, Nwanyieze is fixing her hair with the car’s inner light and a small mirror, checking her make up and smacking her red-painted lips.
She’s quite the siren, I think. The make up and carefully coiffed hair make her look a bit different, but it doesn’t hide her vulnerability. Part of me is screaming to follow her into the building, find that lecturer, and beat him till he begins to plead for his life. She catches me staring and smiles.
“He’s in for a big treat, isn’t he?”
“I wish I hadn’t told you about this plan.”
“I’ll be okay, Maduka. It’ll all go down well. Besides, you won’t be far.”
“What if he-”
“He’s not doing anything,” she said firmly, placing a hand over my mouth and drawing closer, narrowing her eyes for emphasis. It’s obvious she didn’t think of that before doing it, but I’m tempted to flick out my tongue against the inside of her palm.
Now, that would really shock her.
“Now, I’m going in. Of course, in the event that this plan flops, you know what to do.” She takes her hand away.
“Of course,” I said with a wicked grin. “I even want it to-”
“Maduka!” Her hand is back and my tongue almost develops a mind of its own.
I nod and turn off the inner lights. She gets out of the car and saunters towards the building, dressed in a black cotton coat and red shoes with six-inch heels. At the door, she turns towards me and blows me a kiss. In the darkness, I grin. Five minutes later, I follow.
I’m worried about her, I really am. I’d told her about this plan as a joke to cheer her up, hoping she would let slip this lecturer’s name so I could find him. Instead, she’d developed an idea and decided to try it out.
“What if it flops?” I’d asked, surprised and wondering if she’d lost a nut somewhere.
“What if it doesn’t?”
“Would you seriously consider letting that man come near you? I can’t let you.”
She’d frowned at me. “I don’t need your help, really. I’ll carry it out on my own…”
And that was how I, Maduka Obiagu, a very logical, sane, reasonable man, ended up here with Nwanyieze on a mission that is most likely to fail (even if she won’t let me admit it to her face). Just the thought of whoever he is touching a hair on her head makes my blood boil.
The lobby of Barnex Hotel is quite small, but very beautifully decorated. On walking in all I see is gold, from the drapery to the two huge chairs to the electronic fireplace to the walls, giving me the feeling that I am Ali Baba stepping into the cave after overhearing “Open sesame” from the Forty Thieves.
At the reception I gave the receptionist, a young woman in her mid-tewnties, a charming smile. She smiles back. Beside her stands a light skinned young man dressed in a sharp navy suit with an intricate B on the left side of his jacket, ready to show me around.
“Good evening, Sir. Welcome to Barnex Hotel,” they chorused
“Good evening and thank you.”
_____
*Nwanyieze’s POV*
*Room 205.*
I knock on the door and it opens promptly.
“I thought you had changed your mind, Queen.”
I put on my best smile, but inside I’m recoiling in disgust.
Even a prostitute has her own tastes.
“Good evening, Sir,” I greeted.
Mr. Adeyemo seats himself on the white-covered bed. He is dressed in a big shirt and a pair of boxers, displaying his skinny, hairy legs. I find myself thinking of how this beautiful room, tastefully furnished and dimly lit, is so undeserving of such a customer. On the table beside his bed, there is a glass of what is probably brandy.
Can’t function without it, can you? I mock inwardly.
“You’re looking so ravishing tonight. I knew there was more to you than met the eye, baby.”
I cringe inwardly. Baby doesn’t sound so nice coming from him. Taking a quiet but deep breath, I half-close my eyes, change my smile to something between coy and mysterious, and take two steps towards him.
“Really, sir? How so?”
He pats his thigh, a sign that I should come and sit down on it.
“Don’t be scared, I’m actually a great lover. Tested and trusted.” He grins at me.
I walk closer, swaying my hips as seductively as I can. The hunger is evident in his eyes, in the way they shine in the dim lights. His face, thin and dusted by grey hair (I wonder why, he’s barely fifty) reminds me of a grasshopper’s. Carefully, I settle on his thigh and his arm encircles my waist. I smell the alcohol on him and temporarily hold my breath.
“You’re different, do you know that? You always look so innocent every time I see you, but now I’m beginning to think you know more than your age, you this girl. You’re bad inside.”
“I’m really innocent, sir,” I told him.
“Do you have a boyfriend?”
I shake my head, lower my eyes, play with my fingers. “No, sir.”
“As beautiful as you are? You don’t have a man? Come, now. Stop lying.”
“I’m serious, sir. I don’t have a boyfriend.”
“Are you a virgin?”
I peer at him from underneath my lashes. “Well, you’ll have to find that out for yourself, won’t you, sir?”
He throws back his head and laughs. His hands move to my backside, but I stop him.
“Are you scared?” Impatience flashes in his eyes.
I widen my eyes, give him my best scared look. “A bit. But I’d like to play for a short while. Foreplay makes segz very…interesting.”
He grins. “This is going to be mind blowing.”
“You’ll let me do what I like and I’ll let you do what you like.” My hands are toying with the buttons of his shirt, my fingers are touching his chest, drawing circles. He licks his lips and pulls his eyes from my own lips.
“Sounds fair. Let’s begin, then.”
In five minutes, I have his hands tied up over his head, legs bound as well with scraps of material I brought with me inside my tote bag. He is clad in only his boxers now, expectantly waiting for me to begin my segzual exploitation of his very unattractive body.
Stepping back, I look at him and begin to laugh.
He looks surprised.
“What’s so funny?”
“You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting for this, Adeyemo Richard.”
My voice has changed, grown a bit deeper and it’s all I can do to keep myself from laughing more.
“What is the meaning of this, Queen? What kind of play is this now?”
I touch his face. “Wasn’t it obvious to you?”
“What?”
“You’re the Chosen One.”
He frowns, confused. “Chosen for what?”
I turned away from him, shed my coat and let it fall to the floor in a dark pool around my feet. Dramatically facing him again with a swirl, I observed his expression when he sees what I’m wearing underneath. His eyes widen in shock, and then horror.
I’m wearing only a red piece of clothing, which is wrapped around my body. On my arms and legs above my ankles are intricate markings, done with chalk and black marker, swirls and arches and stars and moons.
“Gaze upon your new wife-to-be, Richard. By midnight I will start performing the ceremony of initiation.”
“I am not understanding, Queen.”
“Are you so daft?” I ask with a laugh. “I came to University of Lagos just for you. You’re the perfect husband for me, to rule my spiritual kingdom with me. Why do you think I’ve been on your mind all this while? Everything was planned!”
I open my tote bag, bring out a cluster of feathers, a small clay pot, some chalk, a bottle of water, a drinking horn and a knife. The knife is more for protection in case he tries anything.
Shifting the rug aside, I draw a circle and other silly meaningless things on the wooden floor, muttering nothings just like I’d seen the dibias and babalawos do in Nollywood movies. I pour the water into the clay pot, raise it up in my hands, and whistle.
Thank you, Nollywood, for instilling fear of rituals in Nigerians.
To my surprise, he begins to plead for his life.
“Shut up, let me concentrate on my ritual,” I bark at him. Then out of the blue, I throw my head back and burst into laughter because the situation is so damned ridiculous and I can’t believe he’s fallen for this.
“In the next fifteen minutes, you will be all mine, forever,” I said, widening my eyes and baring my teeth.
“I have a wife and children,” he wails, causing me to almost keel over with laughter.
“You won’t need them in the marine kingdom. I’ll be your everything.”
I’m swaying my body, moving to a rhythm only me knows.
He tries to free himself and I hold up the cluster of feathers and knife thr_@teningly at him.
“If you move again, I’ll slit your throat and drink your blood, did you hear me?”
He actually whimpers. My heart sings for joy.
I should’ve been a movie star, I muse inwardly.
I moved towards the bed holding the pot and feathers. He recoils, but I ignore this and dip the feathers into the pot, then sprinkle the water on him.
“I now consecrate you with water from the ancient lagoon where my kingdom lies. Tonight, after consummating our marriage, we will project ourselves there for a party. You’ll love your new tail. My parents can’t wait to meet you. I’ve told them all about you, Richard.”
“Queen, p-p-please,” he sobs
I’m surprised that he’s actually terrified and I’m beginning to enjoy myself. I hiss like a snake, roll my hips sprinkle more water on him.
“I have already consecrated you. There’s no turning back.”
Five minutes of more dancing and chanting of senseless words, and Mr. Adeyemo is reduced to a wailing mass of terror.
“I’ll do anything, I swear it!”
“You can’t do anything,” I sneer. “It’s you I’ve always wanted.”
“I’ll pass you on that course!”
Finally! What I want to hear.
“That course is not important to me. It was part of my plan.”
“Hay God, please save your son,” he whimpers. Sweat shines on his skin, his tremors are visible.
“God doesn’t save you when you’ve spent your life making people miserable. You’ve led many girls astray, pushed them to the wall. He won’t answer you. I need corrupt people like you in my kingdom, that’s why I chose you.”
He wheezes, breathless from fear.
“I’ll pass all the girls. I’ll pass everybody, I promise!”
“I’m not here for the girls, only you.”
Suddenly I jerk a bit and Ç0ç? my head to the side, still swaying to no rhythm, pretending to listen to someone, my face now serious.
“Mother, it’s this one I want,” I said
He sobs, reminding me again that he has a wife and children.
“It’s Richard Adeyemo I want, mother. No one else.”
This dialogue with myself is quite funny but I have to be serious now.
“I can’t let him go. It’s almost midnight and he’ll soon be mine.”
I can hear him calling upon Jesus and the whole host of angels and saints, Mary included. He begins the Our Father prayer.
I stomp my feet in annoyance, frown and growl. “I want Richard, mother. It’s almost midnight.”
Humming, I move backwards and then reaching behind me, find the switch and turn off the lights.
Mr. Richard Adeyemo, Bsc Journalism, Msc Mass Communication, and PhD Mass Communication, screams like a girl and then I hear a dull thud.
When the light comes on, he has rolled onto the floor and is trying desperately to get to his feet. Tears are now streaming down his face which is contorted from crying.
“Please reject me. Reject me let me go. I promise, I won’t do this again. I don’t know how to rule a kingdom. Queen, please let me go. I’ll make sure you graduate very well. In fact, I’ll resign from my job.”
I move towards him, holding tight onto my knife.
“Jesus, Jesus,” he screams.
I cut the rope binding his legs and feet.
“Pick your clothes and leave before I change my mind,” I bark, eyes wide. “I’ll be watching you. Even while you sleep, I’ll always be watching you.”
It takes him less than fifteen seconds to awkwardly pick up his clothes and literally fly from the room. Immediately, I use some tissue paper to wipe off the chalk marks from the floor, replace the rug, and arrange the bed.
Richard Adeyemo had left his shoes behind.
.
.