A Pretty Long Short Story in Three parts | Fiction

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_{A Pretty Long Short Story in Three parts}

So when they all came out trying to wake the baby I sat there on the large stone with my hand supporting my chin as though it would fall off, and I’d be damned if it didn’t near happen when that abomination of a man came over bare-chested and gave my jaw a hell of a connection with his fist; hit me right on that jaw and I’d be damned if I didn’t think I was in a bad dream. The blow hit me so hard for about 10 seconds I lay sprawled on the floor and I’d have hit him back too but I didn’t have that much food in my stomach and when you hit without much food in your stomach I don’t care who you are you can’t hit good and if you can’t hit good well what’s the point of hitting at all?

So it wasn’t at all surprising that I didn’t hit him back, but what was really confounding to me, is how when I finally got back up I just stood there like Jesus Christ’s model disciple, waiting for him to hit me again. And I’d be damned if he didn’t do it too, twice, connecting with my jaw and if you had told me I still had it attached to my face I’d have called you a damn liar and told you what it is fuels the fire where you’re headed and what color it burns.

Well I found myself all sprawled on the floor again and I had blood all over my face and I was missing a tooth and I still couldn’t move and he just stood over me shouting and spitting:
"I’ll have your head today, the gods help me. The gods help me I’ll have your head, you son of a bitch. You better pray. You better make propitiations to whatever gods you serve and ask that your head don’t dessert you."

His voice was like a toad croaking and his eyes were almost filled with tears and on fire and his muscles were flexing and the only thing I could think of was how much I wish I had food in my stomach. What thing I kept on wondering, too, was why I didn’t clear out of there when I had the chance; I mean not just after the first blow and the second and the third but quite a number of times after that I had the opportunity to make a run for it but what’d I do? I just stood there like a damn pioneer trying to plant a flag in NewFoundLand.

In the end I finally figured it out, though. I mean I’ve always had my suspicions but it was not until that day that I finally confirmed it. First time I went over there my friend, Sololo, he told me, Watch out, watch out, he said, watch out for that man he’s got "charms" like the devil’s brother-in-law. He said, That man you’re seeing there has dined in the same bowl with the devil himself you don’t want to mess with him. I said, Pooh-pooh, the only thing he’s got is muscles like a boxer he scare people like you with; I’m not scared of him, when you’ve got Jesus you’ve got no need to be scared of no man.

Then he said to me, Do you know Lara? Lara with the big breasts? I said. Sure I know Lara. Lara with the big big breasts, the palm-wine tapper’s daughter. And he said yes exactly. And I said, So, what about her? And he said, How long have you known Lara? I said, Waaay back. I used to fuck her sometimes. And he said no way and I said yes way and he said, So you don’t notice anything different about her?

So that’s when I thought about it a while and I realized, so I said, Her breasts sure got a whole lot bigger, and he said, Damn right they did, know how? And I said, how? What do you mean how? She had a breasts growth spurt that’s how. So Sololo laughed a long while and said, Girls don’t just have a breasts growth spurt after they’re fifteen, or sixteen or, it
don’t matter. Girls like Lara don’t just got a breasts growth spurt, someone made them grow bigger and you and I know him. No, I said. Yes, he said. And Lara ain’t the only one he did it for, too, Tayo, Foluke, Angela, Modupe all of them got it from him. He dined with the devil and when the devil asked him to request a thing of him, he chose the power to make breasts bigger.

Sure like you I laughed it off at first but then I really thought about it and I realized it wasn’t so far-fetched after all. Men have been known to seek the devil for the craziest thing. Wasn’t long after that we heard about the man in Osun who had the power to make online scams work.

So I told Sololo I don’t care what evil powers he got as long as I mind my own business around him and nothing more. My business was to help him clear the grass around his house every weekend; if I stuck to that I’ll be fine. So we said our farewells and I might have mentioned something about paying Lara a visit again, you know, just out of curiosity, just to see how big they really have gotten.

So when they all came out trying to wake the baby and I sat there on the large rock with my hand uplifting my jaw and my heart sort of beating fast, I kept tempering myself with the thought that the Merciful God I serve will save me from this hullaballoo I got myself into. My God’ll save me. I never doubted Him, not for a second. I never doubted He’ll save me, not even when the bare-chested abomination came out and desecrated my jaw with his fist, thrice, and I found myself on the floor, I still didn’t doubt.

Admitted when I found out I couldn’t move and I felt as though there was something around my damn neck like I’ve been tethered with a thick rope to something, like a cow, I was a little bit scared, ‘cos I thought, Whao it’s true, he’s got me with his dark voodoo, but I called myself back immediately, ‘cos I realized that’s something about Him I serve. He may allow His own to go through trials and tribulations but He’ll always come through in the end.

So when they all came out trying to wake the baby and there I was sprawled on the floor unable to move, I saw all of them converge at the platform in front of the door, and I could see the wife crying and throwing herself all over the sandy floor, shouting, My baby my baby, my poor baby, help me people, my poor baby must not die my poor baby must not die. And one of them telling her, "Alright, alright now, it’s okay now, let’s just take her to the hospital, will you let us take her to the hospital now?"

And Botilolobo saying coldly, "The hospital? The hospital, are you crazy? Where am I supposed to get the money for a stupid hospital, and even if I had all the money in the world I’d be damned if I hand over a morsel of it to those contemptuous bastards."

I was still sprawled on the floor, but I could hear them clearly and I thought, Good, at least he’s smart enough to not think a damn hospital would solve the problem. Only God can solve his problem, that’s for sure. If only he’d be smart enough to seek Him, that’s all, all would be solved. If he could take her to my church, to my pastor; the same pastor who raised that dead man last year—been dead four days, four! And first
thing I thought when I heard was he even has one on J.C.

One of them, then, who I figured had the power to read mind,
said, "Let’s take him to a church then," and I was a little bit reassured in the capability of homo sapiens to hold a congregation that wouldn’t be filled all through with redundant-thinking idiots. But Botilolobo replied instantly,

"The church? What confounded church!? They’re even more contemptuous than the hospitals, and a whole lot more expensive."

At last he decided they’d take the baby to an herbalist, who was a close friend of Botilolobo. Apparently he could cure cancer, the herbalist, and HIV and AIDS. One of them, who apparently got her fibroid cured a year ago, testified to it.

Before they left he came to me again, Botilolobo, and told me in that same toad voice to pray to whatever God I serve, and when they left he assigned three people to stay with me, and make sure I don’t run away.

After they’d all left but my three guardians I found I could move again, so I stood up and went back to my rock and my face hurt so much I had to stand up and walk over to the three of them asking for a towel to clean off my blood. They were really nice men, the three of them. One of them went inside and brought me a towel and I cleaned up and my
face hurt so much but I felt a little bit better and then before I knew it I saw the three men converge to one side where they held a conference that lasted for about three seconds and when they came back the one who got the towel for me, a frail man in his sixties with gray hair, said;

"Boy, your head has not deserted you today. We’ve decided to let you run away."

"Look," Said the second. "Botilolobo is a strong man, and he cares about his daughter very much, if anything happens to her it’s a sure bet that today will be your last on this earth, and even if she survives we can’t promise you’ll see tomorrow either. We don’t want blood on our hands, and despite your stupidity if the gods want you to pay for your sins they know the right way and where to find you."

So that angered me, and for a second my anger drove my pain away. I thought, These heathens, these godless hypocrites talking about paying for my sins, so I told them, No thanks. I know I ain’t done nothing wrong and my God knows how to take care of His own. Then the third
man who heretofore had been quiet said;
"Is the country so terrible everybody got a death wish?"

I wanted to laugh so badlg at that but I comported myself and I said;
"My Father knows how to take care of His son."

"Leave him," The first man said. "He doesn’t know Botilolobo, that’s his problem. Leave him be, we tried our best."

So they all walked away from me like I had the plague and sat on the stairs outside, and as I moved back to my rock and took my seat, I pondered what the men said and when I remembered the man’s comment about the death wish I couldn’t hold in my laughter. Death wish? I laughed so hard this time they all looked over and shook their heads, definitely thinking I was mad. Maybe I was, but I had no death wish. My intentions were ever pure and when God sees how pure your intentions are He knows how to take care of you. S about the death wish was all so funny. I who never had a bad intention, wishing death?

I wouldn’t wish death on nobody and I sure wouldn’t wish it on my own self. Take the poor little baby, for example. God knows I was only trying to help her and her mother, that’s why I gave her those pills. I came in to cut the grass as usual and when I picked up my cutlass and starting clearing she was crying so hard and I couldn’t get any work done with that noise for sure. So I went inside and she was crying so hard you could tell she was in real pain, poor little baby, she was barely a year old. And there her frail mother was, down with malaria herself and I could see apart from that malady she wasn’t very okay either.

Everyone here knows about Botilolobo’s pastime with his wife whenever he came home drunk, so I thought, Poor woman, and poor baby, and so I brought out the pills I got form Sololo the previous day to help me sleep, and although they were my very last, I said, Here, have this, give this to the baby, it’ll help her sleep, and the poor woman was
stupefied at first but I had to be assertive so I took the baby and I gave it to her, gave her two full pills to help her sleep well, and there the wife was, watching me do it, couldn’t even say thank you, but I don’t deplore that; people who don’t have Jesus can’t be blamed for some things. You do your best for them, and expect your reward from your Father in heaven, that’s all.

So when I went back to my house I slept so peacefully after I had a good meal ‘cos I’d done a load of good for the day like a good follower must, and the next morning at church I testified to the goodness of God, so when I came back from church and I met Botilolobo and his wife waiting for me just outside my house I thought, Finally they’ve finally grown sense enough to come say thank you, but how wrong I was!

His ugly face was the first thing showed me just how much.

TB(p)C...

_{All characters, names, places and blah blah in this work are completely fictional and resemblance to any persons, places, blah blah in real life is completely arbitrary and not meant to blah blah blah...}