He snapped back to earth and looked at his desk. He was preparing notes for the next bible study for his family. He never understood his pastor who had said that above all he should pray for his eyes of understanding to be enlightened. His pastor said when his eyes are open and flooded with light; he would see things in the bible which he previously would have overlooked.
The bible, to him, could be explained using logic and common sense.
His eyes fell on a scripture he hadn’t intended to look at;
“Unto the pure all things are pure: but unto them that are defiled and unbelieving is nothing pure; but even their mind and conscience is defiled.” Tit 1:15
He stared at it for a while and then in a swift abrupt movement, he shut his bible. He could, logically, tell of the meaning and it wasn’t one he wanted to dwell on.
“…but even their mind and conscience is defiled.”
It came back to him like a bad smell. Jeremiah began searching his mind for the point when his mind and conscience became defiled.
Every form of decadence always has an origin.
The memory was as fresh as the dinner he had had that evening. Lara had called in sick and so couldn’t make it to work. That was a once in a millennium occurrence because Lara would rather have a doctor attend to her while she sent mails in the office than sit at home.
However, a much awaited bill that needed immediate attention had come in and Lara’s signature was needed. She was contacted and she had asked for somebody to bring the bill to her. Jeremiah rose up to the challenge and volunteered.
While covering his nose, so as not to catch anything, he pushed her doorbell. After a long while he heard the dragging of feet. As Lara opened the door, his hand dropped from his mouth and his jaw fell slightly open.
Jeremiah felt a shift in his groin and he adjusted himself on his seat in his study. He realized his breathing had become slightly labored just thinking of Lara wearing her skimpy purple silk night dress on that fateful day; the day his mind and conscience became defiled.
He suddenly made up his mind; everything suddenly fell in place. He had to have Lara Saura’s body. He had to quench this eternal taste. This beast within him had to be pacified before it consumed him. But first, he had to release the tension built within him at that very moment. There was no controlling the dragon that had reared its head within his pants.
“Honey!” Jeremiah bellowed, trying his hardest to sound sweet.
As he bounded up the staircase taking them two at a time, having Lara, even for once, became priority in his mind.
He had to have her; whether the Holy Spirit liked it or not.
Jeremiah Uslop began plotting in his mind.
Muerto sat in his luxurious seat and watched the near-nude girls dance before him. The music was loud and very little conversation could hold around the whole room. With red dim light and plenty of ‘booz’; the people were pleased to be affiliated with Lord Bucchi. They were overjoyed, though, to be on his good side. They all pitied the man he had flown miles for. They did not want to attend his funeral; there would be no need for one.
Three men stepped into the room and looked round the room slowly, in a manner that suggested they had not been invited to their own home coming party. Some people already in the room noticed them and recognition showed on their faces. Looking round, one of them finally noticed Lord Bucchi, whose eyes were trained on them. He nudged the other two and they followed his eye line. After some moments of silent exchanges, one of them nodded slightly. A clap was heard and like clockwork, the music stopped and everyone started leaving. After 5minutes of shuffled feet and hurried movements, the room was clear save Lord Bucchi and his closest henchmen.
“Muerto, Tate” The men said and bowed.
Their greeting was not acknowledged as Lord Bucchi sat still, staring at them.
The ring leader began his report.
“The one month scouting period, from the day we arrived Nigeria up until this day and time, is over. We have collected enough information about Dwayne Abdul and his activities to make a full profile of him.” The man paused to see if his words were having any effects. They weren’t. He hurried on,
“Dwayne Abdul, born April 15th 1980, was the fifth child of a family of eight. He lost his parents in an auto crash at the age of 7. The family split immediately after the accident. Unfortunately for him, his father wasn’t a good family man and did not leave anything behind. His brothers and sisters all went to different places looking for how to survive. He started his first business picking up dirt, cans and paper from the front of houses and soon people would invite him to their homes to clean up. He was living on that until he hired some boys and girls. Several of them did not have the discipline he had at that age and so they stole valuable things from several places. Dwayne Abdul was put out of business. At the age of 10, he walked to a neighboring village and was able to convince a big shot eatery to open up in his village. They complained their problem was transportation and delivery within the village; he assured them it would not be a problem. So they moved down and Dwayne became a delivery boy, earning much more than fathers of families were earning, at such a young age.”
The three wise men, as they were fondly called by Lord Bucchi’s henchmen, had done their homework well. They were able to speak of peripheral details such as the time Dwayne had to saddle his donkey and move to the big city, Lagos as well in-depth information as when he staged some of his friends to attempt to gang rape a girl in an alley.
They told Lord Bucchi of the brilliant idea Dwayne had had and that he needed a certain wealthy man to endorse and invest in it. He saw that the best way to reach the man was to reach his daughter. He couldn’t win the daughter’s heart because she was already betrothed to wed another.
He thus connived with his friends to lay in wait for her whilst she would be returning from work one day, and pretend to try raping her. Apparently, he had had the smarts to cause a delay in her office to ensure it was way past dark when she went through the chosen path.
While the ‘gang rapists’ tried to get their way with her, he ‘suddenly’ appeared on the scene and after a declaration of justice, a few witty words, some jabs and punches, a well beaten and bleeding Dwayne was left to die while the ‘disgusted’ men walked away, leaving the woman.
Lord Bucchi raised up his hand at this point. Silence immediately fell upon the room.
“He was left to die, in what sense.” He asked quietly.
“Muerto” came the reply “That was the real part of the staged plan. He was really beaten to the point of death.”
“He risked his life just for a chance to get an opportunity.” Lord Bucchi took a long swipe on his cigar. “Go on.”
The men kept reeling out the life, trials and triumphs of Dwayne Abdul. Stepping mid-way into their speech and it would appear Dwayne was a made up character of a story they had dreamed up. They knew every detail. They knew of his trips to Mexico to complete a project. They knew of how he met Adelina, Lord Bucchi’s daughter.
They refused to say though that Adelina was the one smitten by him and had set the initial spark. Dwayne had simply fanned it to an unquenchable flame.
They knew about Lara Suara.
They knew Lara and Dwayne had been seeing each other for close to a month now. They knew of their first date at an Indian restaurant known as Muntaz. They knew of the kiss they had shared at Lara’s gate at the end of the night. They knew of the second date two days later, and that Dwayne had asked Lara to be his last girlfriend. They knew Lara had said yes. They also knew Lara meant the world to Dwayne.
“So our analysis, Muerto.” The three wise men were in their conclusion “There are several ways we can get to Dwayne Abdul; to make him suffer for his crimes before killing him. Our proposed way will be to…”
They stopped as Lord Bucchi rose up and began pacing.
“Dwayne Abdul.” He began “reminds me of me.” There was a long pause. He made to say something, thought better of it and continued pacing.
Finally, his face got stern and set, he looked fierce, “There would be no killing him. What we are going to do is make him suffer. He has a strong heart. He has a heart like a lion. So, we are going to break it. We will break his heart.”
His men smiled. This was why he was feared. He had proven times without number that he could best death.
“Cut off both arms of Sam. Cut off both legs of Larry. But first,”
Lord Bucchi stopped walking and sat on his luxurious seat. He removed his cigar and took a small gulp of whisky, slowly. He looked at the three wise men and said in a snake-like whisper,
“Kill Lara Saura.”
Jumebi jumped up from the bed. She was sweating profusely. She just had the same horrid nightmare again.
Tears began rolling down her face.
She immediately fell on her knees to pray.