TALES OF THE ATLANTIC

CHAPTER TEN

I walked confidently with every stride, before stopping at the end of the car park. Students were nowhere in sight, as some of the non-academic staff could be seen walking to their posts and offices to resume duty for the last working day of the week.

Almost ten minutes later, a blue SUV slowly rolled into the last space in the car park. On closer observation, I realised it was a Ford product, big, stylish with tinted glasses and definitely expensive.

I couldn’t say this was part of the initiation ceremony, since the initiation had been concluded with congratulations from the goddess of perfection herself. I looked at the ring on my right hand as I brought the katana closer to my left side. Some moments later, I realised it was rather unnecessary as a lady came down from the driver’s seat in the SUV, came round and faced me after removing her sunglasses.

“Good morning your…your utmost perfection…”

“Good morning Mr Tamunoonye. A wonderful day it is… or would I say, a perfect morning?” I nodded and tried to avoid her eyes.

I was too stunned to answer the goddess who stood some inches before me with green eyes, deep blue suit, diamond necklace and a well-fitting pair of black shoes. The sun was high in the sky now, but I kept shivering inside me. Maybe it was because of the initiation under the water, or because of the goddess’ presence before me.

“Stand right there, I want to show you something.” She whispered to me and made for the back of the SUV. She opened the trunk without caring who was around or watching, while the apprehension in me began to reduce. Seconds passed and she soon resurfaced with an M16A2 rifle – the type that could only be seen in foreign movies.

“Please put that thing away, someone might see you.” I pleaded as the sound of the bell for the morning assembly was being rung in the long passageways and classroom blocks. My plea fell on deaf ears, as I watched her countenance change from a smile to a frown. I heard her cock the rifle, as she positioned the butt on her chest with its muzzle pointed at my face.

I turned my head the moment I heard the voice of a female teacher hurrying from the car park, probably to the assembly complex. She soon stopped, transfixed, as her gaze was in the direction of her utmost perfection. The female teacher was putting her mobile phone into her handbag, when I staggered back some steps, bewildered.

I soon regained my balance and bent down to stare at the bullet that had hit my forehead. It was still warm when I felt it.

I stood up erect and balanced the katana on me. I knew the gunshot sound had been heard all around, but the goddess cared less, as three more consecutive gunshots were fired.

There were now three more bullets lying on the ground, close to each other near my right foot as I leaned on the Ford SUV, in total disbelief at what had just taken place. A bullet shot at my forehead, three bullets shot at my chest, groin and belly, yet no pain, bleeding or injury.

“Twenty-one guardians inside you, protecting your spirit and body day and night and you think a mere bullet from this  can hurt you?”

I wanted to say something to her, but I soon stopped as I saw a kitchen knife she threw at me, get stuck on my chest.

“Pull it out,” she commanded while leaning on the SUV, her arms crossed across her breasts, with the rifle slung over her right shoulder. I pulled out the knife and handed it to her and expected policemen to start flooding the school premises. I was ‘disappointed’ when no policeman came, rather staff and students flooded out to where we stood.

Her utmost perfection seemed unconcerned as she dropped the rifle and knife inside the trunk and behaved as if nothing serious had happened. She got into the SUV and opened the front passenger door for me.

“Pick up the bullets and the shell casings…”

I obeyed immediately before I got into the SUV. While she reversed, I emptied the bullets and shell casings into one of the cup holders behind the gear stick. Soon we were heading for the gate, while I balanced my katana between my knees. Once outside, she took a right turn and headed for Agip junction, driving rather slowly.

“Marine Brothers Society, Marine Brothers Society, Marine Brothers Society…”she began slowly, without looking at me.”

“Do you know why James Bond stands out among the other double Os?”

“No…I don’t.”

“It’s because he’s a double O seven…seven stands for perfection, thereby making him outstanding among the others.” She soon increased the SUV’s speed and overtook two vehicles before smiling at me and asked me what kind of house I would love to own.

“I would love any type…a flat, a bungalow, duplex…”

She raised her right hand near my face and I soon became silent like an obedient schoolboy.

“Code 52 doesn’t apply to you my boy…you’re presently twenty-seven years old, but if you were initiated next year when you would have been twenty-eight years old, then the code would have applied to you.

“What is code 52?” I whispered.

It is a special code which grounds an initiate to the State in the particular country, where he was initiated, till he eventually dies.”

“Does that mean my late father was initiated in Rivers State?” I asked.

“Yes he was. But it doesn’t mean you can’t travel out of that particular State, it only means you’d have to live there, and if you must travel, wherever you’re travelling to must be temporary.”

We soon reached Agip junction and turned left towards Sani Abacha road. I remained silent for the rest of the journey, as I held the handle of my katana with both hands.

She took a left turn at the end of the road which led us to Casablanca, and a right turn, which led us to another junction. Sitting inside the SUV, I wondered what type of perfume her utmost perfection used, because it was neither appealing nor repulsive.

To me, it smelt like human blood, but to an ‘ordinary’ individual, it would’ve certainly smelt nice.

From the junction, we turned right and she kept driving until she stopped in front of a one storey building with a blue gate.

“Welcome to your new house…come let me show you around.”

I was stunned as I touched the walls, the gate and the beautiful flowers which adorned everywhere. I hurried after the goddess and entered into the compound. It was very large with a marble fountain, some metres from the gate. The entire compound was almost covered with sunflower and bougainvillea.

I spotted two or three butterflies around the flowers while walking briskly behind the goddess. We walked to the back of the house, where a large swimming pool was located, with a small bar beside it and several parasols surrounding the pool.

“Do you love the colour of the house…the blue paint?”

“Yeah it’s okay your utmost perfection. It’s very nice and the glasses are very beautiful.” I responded.

“Let’s get inside then, I bet you’ll love the interiors.”

Before I could say anything, she strode past me and was soon unlocking the front door. The house was not only large but intricately furnished. Although it resembled a large box, if viewed from a hovering helicopter, the front and left side were plastered with cement like most houses, with blue paint on their surfaces.

The right side and the back were ‘plastered’ with glass panes from top to bottom, making it a wonderful sight, whenever rainwater flowed down from it. In the veranda, there was a small bar and a staircase which led to the top of the house.

“There are six parasols and fourteen plastic chairs up there,” the goddess said to me.

“I hope they match your taste?”

“Yes, they’re okay, and I Iove them…your utmost perfection.” Everything was either white or gold-coloured in colour, including the forty-two inch Sony flat screen television on the wall. There was also a white wooden frame, about three feet from the ground, near the wall for holding my katana.

The sitting room resembled an ancient Persian palace, as I looked at a painting in white background with golden frames opposite the television. In the centre of the room was a four inch thick rug, white in colour with gold edges.

We walked through a door into an adjacent room which had a large refrigerator, and a dining table surrounded with eight white and gold chairs. She spoke behind me as I opened the well-stocked refrigerator. The next moment, I stood erect to observe a small white vase in the centre of the dining table, with purple mermaids painted around it.

“Before I hit the road, I’ll show you the most important part of this building.” She led me out of the sitting room into a large corridor near it, while my eyes kept staring at the large chandeliers in the room as they illuminated everywhere.

Slowly, we climbed the stairs and headed for the master’s bedroom. Standing in front of the silvery door, she held the door knob tenderly and turned it. She soon walked inside at the same time with a look of satisfaction on her face. Immediately I entered the room, I was stunned by its grandeur.

A massive white wardrobe, divided into six parts with golden handles. There was a large bed with purple sheets, adorned with three large pillows in purple pillowcases. A small centre table lay in the middle of the bedroom, with a black briefcase atop it.

The large curtains like the ones downstairs, danced slowly to the rhythm of the split unit air conditioner, some inches near where they hung. I was about to open the wardrobe when the goddess called at me in a stern voice. I walked to the bathroom door and stood beside her. I watched her closely, as she observed a large painting, seven feet long and six inches wide. It had gold frames and a purple background.

Right there on the wall was a painting of the goddess, not just an ordinary painting, but seemed to change with respect to its pose and background, each time you looked at it.

Presently, it showed the goddess standing, cladded, in purple knee-length attire which was covered by a larger transparent one. In the picture, she sat on a black mMarine Brothers Societyllic chair.

Less than five minutes later after listening to the goddess with rapt attention, I was stunned when I gazed at the painting again. It now depicted her utmost perfection with a very stern countenance, with her hair neatly packed, as she relaxed atop a purple chaise lounge. There were also several katanas hanging horizontally on the wall behind her.

“Behind this painting is your own personal bathroom…though it’s like every normal bathroom. Come let’s take a look inside.”

She soon walked towards the painting and began to probe with her left hand until a click was heard and the painting opened ajar like a door leading to a room. At the back of the painting, in purple ink was an inscription: ‘Be ye therefore perfect, even as your father who is in heaven is perfect’ –Matthew 5:48.

There was only one word that could adequately describe the ‘situation’ before me – blasphemy. How could these sons and daughters of darkness possess the nerve to involve sacred wordings of the Holy Bible in their nefarious activities.

I was soon interrupted in my thoughts as the goddess kept explaining one after the other, the significance of the various objects and fittings inside the ‘bathroom.’ Everything here was either purple or white, giving off a feeling of nobility and fright at the same time.

“From this toilet seat you can invoke anyone you want, in any part of the globe…and see whatever he or she is doing at that particular time. All you have to do is call their full names seven times.”

She gave me a sly look and continued looking pleased with what she was doing.

“Death by cardiac arrest, auto accident or any other form you desire can be teleguided from here. Just remember to follow the right ‘procedure’ and you’ll see it happen…simply thrust your katana on his or her image once it appears, and state the desired mode of death.”

She went on to tell me of strange incantations to use if I wanted to see what any particular person was doing at any time of the day, in any part of the world, if I wasn’t at home in the ‘bathroom.’ She turned her back on me and kept her gaze on the white cupboard above the toilet, while I kept looking around the ‘bathroom.’

“What’s on your mind right now?” she suddenly asked.

“Nothing…nothing in particular, your utmost perfection.”

“Let me guess, your mind is presently swimming around the idea of money, or would I say, filthy lucre?”

“Yes…no…your utmost perfection.”

I was surprised how easily she discovered what was on my mind, because my countenance showed nothing but attentiveness to all she’d been saying, in the small windowless room we stood. I knew I had to be careful with whatever I thought of, whenever I found myself in her presence.

“We are almost there, just a little more patience my dear Tonye…just a little patience.”

She said as she squatted very near the wash hand basin and beckoned me to do the same. Right there under the wash hand basin, was another ‘blasphemous’ inscription: ‘Money answereth all things’ – Ecclesiastes 10:19.

At that moment, the whole room, the presence of the goddess and everything in it seemed to weigh me down with a kind of force I couldn’t explain. It was too overwhelming to bear.

“Whenever your invisible double ‘delivers’ anyone with your katana, bundles of money in foreign and local currencies immediately starts flowing out of this basin, until the spirit of such a person is ‘settled.’

“‘Settled, what do you mean your utmost perfection?”

“I mean the money stops flowing the moment the spirit of the person whom your invisible double delivered with your katana, returns to the spirit realm…you won’t understand what I mean, because it’s not for your consumption.

The bathtub before you is your means of transportation to any particular part of the world…especially to the silvery orb. All you have to do is call the name of the particular place you want to travel to seven times and step into it from the rear…like an elevator, it will take you there in seven seconds.”

She then stood erect and opened the white cupboard above the toilet, took out a purple book. It was as large as a laptop computer, with Marine Brothers Society written on the cover in gold. She cast a sly glance at me and held the book very close to her chest.

“Do you know what this is?”

“No, your utmost perfection.”

“It is the most important book you’ll possess till you die…that’s what it is.”

Slowly, she held the book with her right hand and suddenly flung it at my chest. In a twinkle of an eye, a purple puff of smoke enveloped my abdomen, while the book disappeared immediately.

Soon, I began to feel a strange force inside my chest, as if my lungs were frozen. My breathing became slightly laboured, while my gaze remained on her utmost perfection, as if she’d hypnotised me.

“Don’t be a hypochondriac,” she said in a soothing voice, with both arms folded across her chest. For a moment I thought about Boma and wondered what she’d be doing.

“I can’t breathe,” I said in a weak voice, as I leant my frame on the wall beside the wash hand basin. The goddess began to walk out of the room, before she stopped abruptly, looking unconcerned.

“In seven seconds you’ll feel normal.”

Like a prophetess that she wasn’t, I began to breathe normally and soon followed her with my eyes out of the ‘bathroom.’ The goddess, who was now at the door outside the bedroom turned and spoke in a very stern voice at me, “I’ll be waiting for you in the veranda.”

 Stepping outside the ‘bathroom,’ I turned to shut the portrait (which also served as a door), when I paused to observe it. It showed a naïve looking lady kneeling in a purple kimono and white obi, with hundreds of men and women kowtowing to her.