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TALES OF THE ATLANTIC CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER ONE15th July, 2011Port HarcourtRivers StateMy name is Tamunotonye Ibierembo Abbey-Hart, an offspring of late Chief Tamunoibuomi Apiri Abbey-Hart, whose death is the reason for all these narrative. At twenty-seven years of age, I know little or nothing about the occult or marine world.Everything I’m going to say or narrate happened within a year, and although I do not have any specific reason for doing this, I feel it has to be done. This is because after all I’d experienced in the past one year, it is important that persons all over the world should know the powers and forces that exist on this planet, which they have no knowledge about.Surprisingly, the word ‘marine,’ to the best of my knowledge, only concerned the activities of fishermen, animals and plants that live in the sea, a member of an armed force in the United States or United Kingdom who is specially trained for military duties at sea as well as on land, offshore oil exploration activities and freight activit
TALES OF THE ATLANTIC CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER TWOThe next morning I was up by six, said a very short prayer, did some press-ups and hurried to the kitchen to tidy up the aftermath of yesterday’s cooking and dinner before Her Majesty strayed in there. Apart from her dressing, there was one other thing that pissed everyone off in the family – her promiscuous lifestyle, which her parents saw as uncontrollable. This was despite the wealth the latter possessed, which she easily had access to, and the comfortable life she lived.She had barely wiped off the toothpaste suds around her mouth when she came and greeted me in the sitting room.“Good morning,” she greeted slowly.“Good morning how was your night?”“It was wonderful, the power outage notwithstanding,” she shrugged with a deep sigh as if she wanted to tell me something bad or nasty, while avoiding my stern countenance at the same time.“I’ll be travelling for some days, maybe till Saturday,” she continued.“Travelling to where?” I demanded folding my arms and eyeing
TALES OF THE ATLANTIC CHAPTER THREE
It was ten forty-eight when I stepped out of the apartment and headed for the hospital where my mother had been admitted. Out of all the twelve apartments on the block, my sister’s apartment was undoubtedly the cleanest. I’d say kudos to her, but it didn’t do anything to improve her ‘attitude.’Typical Benjamin Okpara Street in the morning saw people walking up and down somewhat aimlessly. I came out of the compound and started walking until a taxi cab stopped for me near Casablanca – a popular grill and night club, at the end of the street. I soon entered the taxi cab which was painted blue and white and shut the door, while thinking of Casablanca which in the next seven to eight hours would come ‘alive.’ The driver took a couple of short cuts before we were stopped by a traffic warden, who subsequently allowed the lane sideways to move. As I waited in the taxi cab, I began to wonder why my mother wanted to see me.The traffic warden soon waved our line to move, and the driver sped t
TALES OF THE ATLANTIC CHAPTER FOUR
Words could not possibly describe the way I felt, while thinking about my mother that Friday morning. It had been two days since the ‘revelation’ about Marine Brothers Society, as thoughts about my sister’s arrival crept into my mind. I removed the second button from the hole on my blue long sleeved shirt, while waiting for a taxi at the tail end of Sani Abacha Road. Four or five minutes later, a taxi cab stopped with three other passengers, and opened its front passenger door for me to get in. My wristwatch showed ten-thirty in the morning as the taxi cab sped to my destination – Agip Junction. The moment I came down from the taxi cab, I walked a few metres to where some bus conductors were shouting ‘Rumuokoro’, ‘Rumuokoro,’ and stepped into the passenger seat of a blue Mitsubushi L300 fifteen seater bus.I sat beside a fair lady who suddenly reminded me of my sick mother’s complexion. The bus kept stopping to pick and drop passengers until it finally reached my destination – Federal
TALES OF THE ATLANTIC CHAPTER FIVE
Timothy hadn’t changed much, except that he looked fresher now that he was in a lot of money. He had a stylish haircut and was dressed in an expensive suit. The farthest part of the room where he’d been having fun with his girl, looked as if it was designed for that ‘purpose.’ It contained a large futon, a big white bar near the window, three white armchairs and a centre table made of glass. There was a white custom made sofa on which the duo now occupied.“More grease to your elbow, but can you guys please pause…Timothy and I got some important chit-chat to do.”“Tonye, what are you doing here?” he stammered at me.“I’ll start by apologising for what I did to your guards, furniture and…” I paused while staring at the door. “…and also your receptionist.” I picked up the gold coloured necktie on the ‘ice’ table and threw it at him, when my hand suddenly became suspended in the air, the moment I saw the face of the girl who’d been panting under Timothy’s ‘torture.’ Timothy walked u
TALES OF THE ATLANTIC CHAPTER SIX
“Tonye, Tonye, I’m at Omagwa airport, please just wait…I’m on my way.” Boma’s voice was a mixture of fear and confusion, while I didn’t bother to respond, when she called again an hour later. Immediately she ended the call, I put down the phone and continued staring blankly at the television screen.That particular day was a Saturday, followed by Sunday…by Monday the countdown to the initiation would begin…just a matter of time.Less than an hour after I spoke with Boma, there was a knock on the front door, and I could guess who it was.“Calm down, just calm down…everything’s okay…stop crying…sit down.” It took me more than twenty minutes to pacify her, before she stopped crying and sat down with a wet handkerchief.“Mum is dead and gone Boma…she won’t be buried, nor would any party, wake-keeping or church service be done for her. I had her cremated.” I’d barely finished my last sentence, when she shouted me down like someone in frenzy.“She’s been what…do you know what you’ve done?”
TALES OF THE ATLANTIC CHAPTER SEVEN
The ‘big day’ had finally arrived for me as I sat on the edge of the bed. I thought about everything that had taken place from my father’s death to the revelation by my mother.A minute later, I saw my sister at my door with a pink toothbrush between her lips, mumbling a word of greeting to me. I waited patiently for her to prepare for work, as I sat quietly in the dining room.Everywhere was quiet except the drizzling on the roof. The entire compound was so quiet in this new place. Everyone kept to him or herself and the security was tight. Moments later, I beheld my sister in a bright red suit.“Security here is as tight as your skirt.” I mumbled while Boma drank a cup of water from the water dispenser, near where I sat. She soon put the cup away and sat opposite me. She fixed her gaze on me like a suspect in the middle of a criminal investigation. I looked outside the window as the drizzling continued on the window, grass, flowers and cars outside.“Boma,” I began in a very soft vo
TALES OF THE ATLANTIC CHAPTER EIGHT
It was seven-thirty in the evening the moment Timothy stepped out of his limousine and dialled my number on his mobile phone. He had just returned from a nearby restaurant where he had gone to have an early dinner, before rounding up the work piled up in his office.There was no response from my phone, until he dialled the third time. A ‘sweet’ female voice he knew so well answered the phone and informed him that his friend was almost at the final stage of ‘perfecting’ his life.The line went dead shortly afterwards, leaving Timothy feeling amused at the possibility of a mobile phone to pick up signals in a place such as the silvery orb. He gave a deep sigh as he entered the main lobby and headed for the elevator.“He’d soon get what he wants ... very soon”.As soon as the elevator shut gently and ferried Timothy upward, Deaconess Esther Amadi was rounding up the Faith Clinic for the week in Abraham’s Villa, a parish in the Redeemed Christian Church of God. If my late mother were to b
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- TALES OF THE ATLANTIC
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
Timothy knew sleeping was the least of his worries as he brought the bottle of McDonnell’s to his mouth the fifth time. It was three o’clock in the morning and he also knew most Marine Brothers Society initiates would be doing something similar to what he was presently doing, wherever they were.His apprehension seemed to escalate when he noticed his Marine Brothers Society katana was not on the wooden rack, after his invisible double had returned from the silvery orb. He wished drunkenness would lull him to sleep, so he wouldn’t think about the consequences of what had just happened.He brought the bottle to his mouth the sixth time and cursed himself for contracting only one assassin to get rid of me. He thought about his money, cars, company, girlfriends, investments and stocks, but didn’t think about penury.I woke up on the altar the next morning to see Boma kneeling beside me, peering into my face like a nurse.“Hope you’re better?” she whispered.“Let’s go home…it’s all over,”
- TALES OF THE ATLANTIC
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
Inside the church, despite the fading pains on my body from the accident, I knew I had no choice but to maintain that sedentary position, until my invisible double successfully concluded his ‘mission.’I ignored the heated prayers around me, while my buttocks remained ‘stuck’ upon a white plastic chair. It was a good thing the weather was cold and the mosquitoes were at bay, else we all would have been soaked in our perspiration before daybreak.I closed my eyes and opened them again, trying to imagine what was going on in the mind of my invisible double. Although I knew what he was presently doing, I knew there was nothing like the feeling of being there personally. Slowly, I turned my head towards Boma and saw her praying like her late mother.“You will die the same way you made my dragon die,” the goddess screamed at my invisible double before she slumped backwards onto the surface of the silvery altar and melted on the flat surface. All eyes were now on my invisible double as he r
- TALES OF THE ATLANTIC
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
At that moment, I felt sorry for Boma – for having to put her through the entire stress, knowing fully well she had to be at her desk tomorrow morning in the bank. Samuel Adefarasin had started praying in whispers, while Pastor Alozie opened his large leather Holy Bible.I never intended for anyone to get hurt in the process of carrying out my late mother’s wish. This was why I felt the weight of guilt, as thoughts of all the people I’d delivered since joining Marine Brothers Society, began to race into my mind.My eyes were still on the door which had since been shut. The circles of prayer warriors had just been formed, and Pastor Alozie looked like a ready medieval General for a much anticipated battle, he was sure he’d win. I only took my gaze from the door after Boma’s right hand held mine.She bent down and looked at me affectionately, while the other hand stroked my face.“It’ll soon be over Tonye…very soon,” she whispered to me in a soothing voice. I nodded as an usher went aro
- TALES OF THE ATLANTIC
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
I swore never to allow myself to be bothered by a woman again, when I was finally discharged from the specialist hospital, that fateful tenth day of July 2013, with a truckload of medication. Boma’s magnanimous branch manager had offered her official car and driver to take me home.I said goodbye to the Nigerian, Syrian and Indian doctors and nurses, who’d taken their time to cut and stitch me for more than three months. I was amused at Boma’s tears of joy, as we journeyed to her apartment that afternoon.“Please drive us to the church….” The driver looked surprised, while he stared at the traffic lights ahead.“Madam said I should drive you home from the hospital, not…”“I want to go to the church and thank God.”“Okay, just drop us and we’ll use a taxi to church-” Boma cut in. The driver seemed not to hear us until I made one last statement.“If you don’t take me to the church before going to her apartment Mr Kennedy, I’ll come to her bank tomorrow and tell the manager you drove us
- TALES OF THE ATLANTIC
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
After an intensive massage one afternoon, I thought about the other Marine Brothers Society initiates and wished they could witness everything I’d witnessed, especially Doris Onakposeba, in her present state. She was the least of my worries, since one of them had even tried to kill me, by procuring an assassin. Staying in the hospital was frustrating, due to the healing and recovery process, which went on at a snail-speed.Many things had improved in my daily routine, especially my feeding pattern. I now fed myself, though salty, spicy and fried foods were still disallowed from my diet. My body, especially my blood needed sugar, so I indulged in ice creams and sweets on several occasions.As for the portrait, I looked at it at every available moment. Sometimes, I imagined me and Boma as orphans who were running away from the goddess and dying in the process of surviving Marine Brothers Society’s pangs, while the time rapidly ticked away.It was the third Sunday in June as he itched fo
- TALES OF THE ATLANTIC
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
God had never failed or disappointed him ever since he became born-again two decades ago, and he knew he wouldn’t start now. As far as Pastor Alozie was concerned, the major battle at hand was the ‘third stage’ of the Marine Brothers Society saga he was now faced with. The ‘first stage’ was the attack by the naked demons in my house.The ‘second stage’ was the accident which incapacitated me and the ‘third and final stage’ was the proposed face-off between me, Pastor Alozie (any other ‘interested’ party and the goddess. On the day the last surgical operation was to take place, Boma and Pastor Alozie were given fifteen minutes to talk with me before I was reeled to the theatre.“I’ll come around immediately I’m through from work,” Boma whispered as she held my hands.I looked at her smooth face and thought of how my abdomen had been scarred with stitches. The psychologist had advised me to keep recollecting happy thoughts and memories before the surgical operation commenced.This made
- TALES OF THE ATLANTIC
CHAPTER THIRTY
If anybody had told me that my invisible double was still ‘alive’ and ‘functional,’ I’d laughed heartily at such a person. The door to my room opened slowly and I stopped laughing at the cartoon on the television. I thought it was a nurse and tried to prepare my buttocks for another round of morning injections.Instead of a cheerful feminine face in a white uniform, I was surprised at the huge, six feet figure carrying a hamper, while entering the room with a smiling face. He looked satisfied with the occupant he’d just met, as his right hand began to reach for the back of his waist.“Are you Tamunoonye?” he asked in a friendly tone. Before I opened my mouth to answer, I watched in surprise as his smile soon turned into a painful, ugly grimace. He began to stagger towards my bed, while the hamper and dagger dropped from his hands.The next moment, I saw his white silk shirt become soaked with blood, flowing from his mouth and nostrils. He began to gasp for breath as the shiny blade w
- TALES OF THE ATLANTIC
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
While Boma’s imaginary kiss landed on my forehead, Ibeabuchi put finishing touches to his ‘tools’ of work. As a former mobile policeman, he knew the modus operandi of the Police and Mobile Police respectively in the State. He was conversant with their nature and more importantly, how long they usually took to respond to a distress call.On the small table beside the window, two oiled pistols lay with a well sharpened service dagger between them. At that moment, he wasn’t concerned with the instruments of death before him, rather he marvelled at my picture, taken by a special camera inside the silvery orb.He tried to wonder why a handsome and suave gentleman deserved to die. Four hours ago, he’d received a message alert on his mobile phone.It informed him of his savings bank account with Union Bank, which had just been credited with Seven Hundred and Fifty Thousand Naira, by one Florence Adetuyi.. Upon completion of the assignment, he would receive the remaining half.Examining the p
- TALES OF THE ATLANTIC
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
The goddess sat on one of the chairs near the pool of ash, while she kept observing the portrait, which was now held by three ‘perfect assistants.’ It depicted her utmost perfection in a ceremonial military uniform, inspecting the corpses of six men tied to six wooden posts. Their heads were bowed and blood was flowing from their ripped abdomens.“Tonye, Tonye, Tonye…you were going to make me proud by being an exceptional Marine Brothers Society initiate, but your foolishness will now lead to your painful ascension.”The three naked women remained stone-faced as the goddess gave out a loud cackle which shook the entire orb.“A new initiate would find this very useful…see to that.” She rose up and made for the silvery altar, with the three women walking silently behind her. They overtook her when they were a metre to the silvery altar, before placing the portrait gingerly atop it.“Tonye, you disappointed me terribly,” she whispered to herself as the portrait was slowly absorbed by the
