ADSactly Short Stories - The Mystery of the Smiling Pilot

in #adsactly6 years ago

The Mystery of the Smiling Pilot



Kekes always knew there was something wrong with everyone in Jagatu, his hometown. He was born there forty-six years ago to the family of Mr and Mrs Elabo. During those days, most children in Jagatu skipped kindergarten and just went on to primary school on account of the village not having a kindergarten, and so did Kekes. From primary school, he went on to attend Jagatu Grammar School. All his teachers agreed that he was a gentle, yet very smart kid. Kekes found it surprising that he got along well with everyone those years. He could accurately identify the particular day that they all started avoiding him while looking at him strangely. It was this behaviour of theirs that assured him that there was something wrong with them, still, he decided to keep to himself and mind his own business. He was close to his mother and since she never treated him any different, he figured that he had all he needed, anyway until she died. Kekes was a carpenter and a basket weaver. He used raffia palm to weave the most beautiful baskets.


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Across the street from Kekes lived Greg, an old retired pilot. Over the years, for reasons unknown to everyone else, Greg had become Kekes's arch-enemy and Kekes swore that sooner or later, Greg was going to die. Having given a great deal of thought to the matter he had decided the means by which he was going to end Greg's life - with his hands around his throat. He had never discussed this with anyone so that when he finally ended Greg's life, no one would suspect his culpability.

Every morning since Greg retired as a commercial pilot, he would come out of his home and sit on the front porch. In his left hand, he would carry a bottle of his favourite brandy, inside which some sort of herbs and roots were soaked. he would pour a shot of the brown liquid into a king size shot that probably came with the bottle of brandy from the makers. From the comfort of his armchair, he would look across the road to his neighbour, Kekes, weaving baskets without ever uttering a word. As he watched from his chair, he wore a self-satisfied smirk that Kekes had decided long ago would be the death of him. But from where Kekes sat, Greg's house looked like a fortress.

Kekes thought long and hard about how he was going to get his hands around Greg's neck. Greg lived alone so if he could get himself into the house at night, he could strangle the old man without being noticed, otherwise, there was no other way to kill him anonymously. He wished there was another way to wipe that smirk off his face but Greg seemed to wear it every waking hour. What's left to be discovered was whether or not he slept with the smirk on. So that day, Greg poured himself a drink, as usual, drank it in one swig and stared in Kekes's direction with his usual smirk. But Kekes was not irritated by it like before: he had found a solution. He would wait until Greg was ready to retire in the night, then he would sneak into the house and wait until midnight, and strangle the man.

Greg left home that morning and returned in the evening. As usual, he went to his sitting room and came out with his favourite chair. Kekes waited patiently until Greg was ready to go back in. As he carried his chair in, Kekes walked in behind him ever so silently and hid behind the sitting room curtain. He held his breath as the old captain turned around to go and bring in his bottle of brandy and cup, then Kekes walked silently to the pilot's guest bedroom where he flattened himself under the bed and waited. He knew he had a long time to wait so he prepared his mind for the long hours to come. As he relaxed, he fell asleep against his will because he was tired.

Suddenly he saw himself on a football field, holding down a stick that was dug into the ground. It was mid-July and the morning dew fell on him. The stick seemed to have a life of its own as it required all his strength to keep it down. He tried to remember why it was so important to keep the end of the stick in the ground but the memory was elusive for a few minutes. Gradually, he began to remember. His friend Anom had asked him to hold down the stick during his trial at the village square. Anom had been accused of adultery.

Akan accused Anom of having slept with his wife on multiple occasions but Anom denied it. As was usual for such cases, where there were no witnesses, the village head demanded that the accused must swear to his innocence in front of Mfam, the god of justice. Kekes could not understand the relationship between holding down the stick and the innocence of his friend but he did as he was asked. Then, it began to rain. As the rain fell, Kekes saw a lightning flash across the sky but he did not hear the thunderclap. He woke up in the middle of the field with the stick lying beside him about an hour later and some children poking sticks at him. This time it was not the children that were poking at him, it was the old pilot. As he realised he must have fallen asleep in Greg's house, he quickly attempted to scramble to his feet but hit his head on the underside of the bed. He winced in pain.

"What the hell are you doing, snoring in my house?"

Kekes slid out from under the bed, then with surprising agility pounced on the pilot. They both staggered, then Kekes punched him in the face as he began to remember why he went inside the house in the first place. "Where is that smirk of yours now?" he asked the pilot as he hit him again, breaking his nose.

"What?" the old man managed to reply in pain.

"I want to find out is what you find so funny each time you sit outside watching me," Kekes said calmly, as he sat on the old man's chest, squeezing his neck.

"Jesus Christ! Is that what this is all about?" he said, trying to sound unperturbed, but the pain in his jaw told a different story.

As Kekes raised his hand, the old man knew that another blow was imminent if he did not start talking immediately.

"Wait!" he said with outstretched hands. He began to describe how Kekes would often stop whatever he was doing to grab a stick, force it into the soil and hold it there with all his strength like someone in a trance. According to the old man, Kekes did this without any apparent trigger and he found it fascinating and funny to watch. Kekes listened silently as his mind travelled back to many years ago when his friend asked him to hold that stick for him. He could not remember ever doing what the old pilot described but he knew the man was telling the truth because of the fear in his eyes. Kekes suddenly felt a weakness in his legs as he stood up, turned and walked away from the old man's house. He realised for the first time in years that the members of his community may be alright after all; it was him who was mad, weird, crazy or whatever word that described his behaviour.

Kekes did not go home that night. Instead, he went to visit his old friend Anom, who had since distanced himself from him. He was going to get to the root of the matter even if it killed him. He did not knock when he arrived at Anom's house: he kicked the door in. Anom's wife and children were terrified but Kekes did not care.

"Let us go outside, my old friend," Anom said, trying to sound casual.

Anom's seemed to know the mood his old friend was in and he suspected the reason for the visit. So he sat Kekes down and told him the whole story. He was guilty of adultery as he was accused years ago but he denied it. He visited a medicine man who promised to help him win the case if he would follow his advice. It was that man that gave him the stick and prescribed the procedure that he had asked Kekes to follow.

"Are you aware that this magic of yours have cost me my sanity and is responsible for everyone seeing me as a freak?" Kekes asked.

"I'm sorry, but I did not know how to tell you."

Kekes stood up and asked his friend to take him to the medicine man.


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More than twenty years had passed since Mazi Egbe did the incantation that deceived the god of justice but he remembered it very well. He knew this day would come and he had waited for it. When the friends arrived, he asked Anom to wait for him outside.

"Welcome, Kekes. What has happened to you is sad and unfair but I have a solution. You must bring that stick and cast it in the river then bath naked in the river in the light of day."

"But I do not know where the stick is," he said.

"Then your friend must confess his sins and free you of your misfortune."

Kekes left the medicine man and went out to talk with Anom but Anom refused the idea of confessing to a crime he had previously denied. Kekes was sad but he had not lost hope. When he returned to the medicine man in the room, he knew why Kekes had returned. He shook his head and stretched out his hand towards Kekes. In his hand were nine needles, a black thread and an egg.

"Go home, my son. Pray in the name of whatever you believe in that the seizure would stop, break the egg on top of the needles and tie the needles with the thread. Bury the needles where it cannot be reached by another human being and you shall be fine."

"How about my friend?" he asked.

"Do you still call him that after all these years?" the medicine man asked, shaking his head.

As Greg watched Kekes a few days later, he realized that Kekes had recovered of his ailment; Anom it was that suffered it thereafter.



Authored by: @churchboy




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Are you aware that this magic of yours have cost me my sanity and is responsible for everyone seeing me as a freak?" Kekes asked.

It’s hard to believe how someone’s mind can be set to even kill someone. Fortunately, Kekes was still sane anough not to eventually execute his plan. As for the medicine man, I do believe in these kind of things. That’s why I try the best not to make any enemies or not to harm anyone.
Great 👍 story @churchboy & @adsactly!!!

Thanks for your comment. You are right: it is always better to err on the side of fairness.

You're appreciated.

At the Tribhuvan International Airport in Nepal, the latest air traffic control (ACS) room with the pilot arrived at the moment before the crash of the US-Bangladeshi aircraft of the private airline operating aircraft. There have been two types of instructions for landing on the plane of the airport of the USBangla Airlines from the airport at the airport.

Audio recordings were heard at the beginning, from the control room, pilot to the US pilot was instructed to land at the right runway (2) of the airport. Then the pilot said, okay sir.

According to the instructions, the pilot told to take the plane to the right of the airport in the control room. But because the runway was not empty, he again contacted the control room. In the meantime, he was given a different message.

Pilot requested the control room to free the number two runway in the previous position. But he was given a different message again. After some time, the pilot said, sir, I request again to get rid of the runway.

Immediately after that the sound was found from the aircraft. After some time, at 2:18 pm the plane was thrown into a field adjacent to the Tribune Airport.

This could actually be made into a novel :-)

I liked the story and although it doesn't follow a linear story line but its been executed pretty decently. But what grabbed my imagination the most were the characters. Of course we only had a few short pages to build the premise and that characters but they were executed beautifully. Their fears and hopes, their imagination and delusions, accusations and the truth, its all out their for the readers to enjoy.

The story shows that sometimes what appears so real and important to the eye may not be so real in the practical life. Our own perceptions can lead us to conclusions that might not be true. What was previously proven as the truth may actually have been false all along.

You have put it perfectly. Things are seldom what they seem like and nothing in life is black and white so even when you are sure that you know, a second look does not hurt anyone.

I am so grateful that you took the time to read my story. You are appreciated for the long, articulate comment you left.

Thanks man! It was a pleasure to read your work :-)

I always wonder how this great blog adsactly is so organized, great job guys

We have writers and administrators that are working behind the scenes. Thank you for your comment. You're appreciated. Please vote adsactly for witness.

What does it takes to be part of this team.

oh man! I totally thought Greg was going to die... imagine being Keke and realizing that he might have been the crazy one. Great story, it really kept me on my toes!

He could have died too. Why didn't I think of that? I guess you are a much better writer. Thank you for your comment.

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😲 😲 😲 Amazing short story! I was sucked right into it and that is not a normal thing to happen! Thank you for the read and keep them story's flowing. 😎😎

Thanks a lot.

I feel like this story would be even better if written in german, The slightly harder tone paired with a wider range of words would do this story justice.

adsactly, its a real story or novel?

Just a fiction. Thank you.

churchboy, Thanks for reply

@adsactly, This story is very inspirational.

Despite working perfectly well, I can not move forward.sir, please help me

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