PASSION AND THE FORBIDDEN

His laced shoe was still the center of attraction as the wandering eyes of Eric Travis picked it up from the rear this time.

What was he thinking?

He wasn't sure what he was thinking either but then, the words that Mandolin Trump spoke last before the room turned silent still lingered fresh in his mind. It should have been stale by now considering the time interval it was spoken but he didn't allow that-he wanted it fresh in his mind as he kept on tossing it over.

He knew Mandolin Trump was right at some points but wasn't so certain of others.

But why must he think of a thing like that, a thing so desperate, heartless, and possibly so adventurous?

He glanced at him, this time with his widened eyes shifted from his laced shoe as if woken up from slumber. Yes, they have been friends for quite a while now and have agreed on almost every issue of life until this moment.

Eric Travis knew Mandolin Trump was stubborn right from when they were in college and even through their university days. He had always been the party type, but how he graduated in the upper class was still a mystery to him. He had proven to be a goal-getter and had never slacked in achieving what he had proposed to do and that's why what he spoke about an hour ago was a very serious issue.

He pondered over it once more as he narrowed his eyes at Mandolin Trump. Though he had failed in one important area of his life-marriage. He was supposed to be married by now at the time his friends started picking ladies for marriage, but he had to shun the idea and now still looked not set for it yet.

Eric Travis stood up for the first time since he entered Mandolin Trump's little apartment that seemed to be consciously built for him alone and not for a wife or kids around. He could imagine as his eyes swept through the sitting room again.

He walked around the center table for a while and seconds later, stood in front of Mandolin Trump.

This time he was ready to engage him in a fiercer talk. His lips moved for a while and as he was about to give up, he heard Mandolin Trump cough. Reluctantly he started. "I cannot believe what I heard-can't imagine you said such things. Listen Mandolin, as much as I know about you, you are not even a good Christian-talk less of having a calling to become a pastor-a pastor? This is impossible!" He hissed and wheeled around angrily, backing Mandolin Trump who just gave him a smug smile.

Mandolin Trump sat up again crossing his legs over as if in a sort of executive meeting except that he wasn't. His arm was on his broad chest as his eyes steadied on Eric Travis, boring through his back as he waited anxiously for him to speak another word. He could hear him talk now but wasn't that audible. He waited for him to turn around and immediately he did a few seconds later. He heard him repeating himself.

"There are other jobs you could do and not this pastor thing, agree jobs are hard these days, the population is exploding by the day and the government can't cope with the trend-planning method is poor and a whole lot of other things is making the economy sick. Pastor is not a job but a calling. Telling me that's what you want to do is the last thing I will want to hear you say, Mandolin!" He sat down quietly on the center table he had been walking around for minutes now and gave him a sober stare.

"You could be something else, let's say an entrepreneur or something, and not this idea of becoming a pastor. You don't have the calling; it is for special people-special-"

Mandolin Trump stopped him and didn't allow him to finish. "You make me sick, Eric. I have sat down patiently to hear you talk. Now just hear yourself talk-special, what makes pastor ministry special?-"

"Here you go again," Eric Travis broke in, "pastoral ministry is not a business as you think. There is a supernatural calling attached to it and I know-"

"What is it then?" Mandolin Trump flared as he lifted both hands to stop Eric Travis.

Looking angrier now, he dropped his left leg on the floor he had placed on the other for minutes.

Eric Travis ignored it as he looked away. He felt so worried that Mandolin Trump was beginning to make a scene out of nothing. "It is a task, a godly responsibility given to anyone by God-it is a calling, Mandolin." Eric Travis whispered calmly as if he was beside himself with his hands in his pocket.

He was shocked at Mandolin Trump's reaction but wasn't surprised. He knew he has not changed a bit right from their university days-always desperate.

He watched him frown and then also heard him talk. "How many Pastors have the calling you are talking about? They take your offerings, and your tithes, build big mansions and drive around in the best cars and you sit here and talk about calling. Who cares? Damn it!"

Eric heard him hit his hand hard on the table in front of him and that got him shivering-and that was also enough to tell that Mandolin Trump was upset.

Upset by whom?

The church system, pastors, or what?

He shrugged as he struggled to listen to Mandolin Trump's piercing words screwing through his eardrums.

"And you know what? What if I tell you I was called? Or have been called, what will you say? What if I tell you I got a revelation from God telling me about this task? Of course, you have nothing to tell me because you weren't there when I was called, so you see! The work of a pastor is open to anyone who can talk, and convince the people, I mean do the job-the rich job and at the same time profit largely-I want in Eric-I mean I am entering the pastoral ministry as it is called and away with poverty."

Eric Travis watched smiles playing around the lips of Mandolin Trump.

Was he out of his mind or pretending he wasn't?

His smiles looked heartless but the interesting thing now was how he wants to go about it. Was he going to a pastoral school or-

His thoughts dropped as he watched Mandolin Trump walk towards the wine shelf and heard him whisper. "Good wine brings good memories-for a brighter future Eric. Always friends, still good friends, and friends we are forever."

Eric Travis watched as he poured wine into his glass cup and they both drank with eyes fixed on each other. And deep down in those red slit eyes, Eric Travis knew another deadly phase of Mandolin Trump's future has only just begun.

Eric Travis drove into his garage and came out of his car quietly. He looked at his car again the second time, after he left Mandolin Trump's house. This time, memories flooded his mind.

It was given to him by his father after he graduated from university as a well-done gift.

The bruise it has on the body has given it an ugly look that made it seems it wasn't of his class anymore.

But what if I fixed it?

What if the bodywork was upgraded and then-

His mind shifted when he heard Dralex's voice behind him. "Welcome home Daddy. Dinner is ready and we have been waiting for you to come home!"

Eric Travis looked down at his 3-year-old daughter.

Her brain seems to be developing at a faster pace than expected of a child of her age, he thought as he wheeled around to watch her talk once more.

"Are you okay Dad? Just wondering why we didn't see you come home quickly. Well, Mum is waiting, shall we?"

Eric Travis could not help but smiled as he watched in amazement her daughter talked as though in a drama session in school. He never hesitated to respond. "Why not Dralex, I am after you." He watched her take the lead to the sitting room.

"Welcome home darling." The words that seemed to reverberate in the sitting room got his spine aching. "I was almost thinking your dinner will be cold before you come home, just the way your lunch ran cold-what devoured your day up like a little squirrel, darling?" Prislla's tiny voice got him frozen to a spot for a while as he walked further into the sitting room.

He looked at her and grimed. He dragged his legs from their frozen spot and joined her on the dining table and also watched Dralex slide into her favorite chair even though her little legs still hung in the air and most times noticed she enjoyed dangling it on the air as she eats.

Not quite five minutes he sat, he stood up again and strolled to the window by the dining table. He pulled the curtain to his left and watched outside for a while and then watched the curtain swing into its position.

"You got something in your mind you want to talk about?" He watched Prislla's eyes all over him.

He knew her mind search was always exact and her questions always compelling. She has this unusual way of reading thoughts through the eyes.

Immediately her eyes caught him again, he shifted his head. "Not really-Just thinking, perhaps we leave that for tomorrow and-"

"I see you are troubled darling. We still got plenty of time to talk-to talk about it." He heard Prislla's chair slide behind her and also heard her footstep behind him.

Suddenly, she stood by his side with her left hand on his shoulder. "Discussion brings a solution-if we discuss what's on your mind now. We would have solved what will perhaps push us far apart, perhaps in thoughts-so, let's hear it from you."

Eric Travis looked down at her. Her look wasn't different from the one she had on four years ago when they first meant in Garlic fast food plaza.

She was one of the food attendants. There was this way she looked and walked that almost caught his attention and when she finally did. It was after the marriage vows, he woke up to the reality that Prislla was now his wife-those eyes are piercing but innocent.

Her body shape was still intact, her breast still stood firm on her chest and her hips made her even sexier.

As he kept on staring at her, suddenly his mind sparked when the words of Mandolin Trump rushed back in, the words that seemed taunting but far gripping now. He shifted his eyes from Prislla. "He wants me to assist him as a pastor."

"A pastor-" Prislla muttered. "Are you kidding me or-wait a minute, who said that to you? I mean who wants you to-"

"Mandolin Trump, he wants me to be his assistant." He cut in and looked away quietly. "I am confused and-"

"Mandolin Trump, I remember him now-you told me about him but don't tell me you still go around with him. You said he isn't married, right? Stop seeing him darling or he will ruin you. Any man who had gotten to his age and is still single is irresponsible. I have never meant him in person but from what you told me about him. I think he is!"

Prislla stood mute for minutes and then repeated. "A Pastor, what a hell," she sank into a chair opposite Eric Travis with her head bent over in deep thoughts and then suddenly as if she remembered something. She lifted her head and her eyes narrowed at Eric Travis.

"Let him go ahead and be a novice pastor. For all I care, you aren't going to join him and besides, we are alright where we worship." Her eyes rolled in thoughts as she continued. "Have you told Pastor Joshua? I guess he can counsel you more on this."

He stared at her for a while, "How is Dralex's health? Did you see Doctor Mattis today?"

He watched Prislla nod her head but certain she wasn't happy he changed the topic suddenly. He stared at her for a while again and then walked out quietly from the sitting room.

It wasn't bedtime yet, was he going to bed?

But then he hadn't even touched his dinner, what has come over Eric?

That was how a friend led him to lose thousands of dollars in an investment that never worked and now another friend who got absolutely no calling is dragging him to something he got no experience accomplishing.

Why must Eric always be, a prey or a tool?

We must resume our talk on this in bed tonight. Prislla shrugged as her thoughts walk unparallel to each other, now refusing to merge.

Her eyes reluctantly shifted to the dining table where Dralex was still eating. She wished she had another child so that Dralex could have company but Doctor Mattis will always have a word to use about the delay. She knew it must have been the family planning contraceptive pill she took after having Dralex, just after her birth.

She forced her thoughts to stop but eventually, the chiming sound of the wall clock did it. She looked up at the wall clock.

It was 8 pm already. She stood up and shuffled to join Dralex who had sat alone for minutes at the dining table.

As they walked along the strangest path to a mysterious hut where the cruel witches of Kiki live, Mandolin Trump's thoughts sprang up again.

He had done a mental calculation of what he needed to start off his ministry but one thing he knew he never agreed on when he had a phone conversation with Eric Travis was to go to a pastoral school or consult a pastor.

He thought it was a waste of time and that all he knew he ever needed was power. Without power, there won't be a miracle and without a miracle, there won't be a large congregation.

I must seek power.

His thought slipped as his eyes fell on Neo Rendos who was taking him to the witches. It is believed some pastors pay them homage and it won't be a bad idea to pay them homage before he becomes one too. Mandolin Trump thought as he followed Neo Rendos closely from behind.

The wind in the forest shifted again as the trees in the forest beat against each other producing the most frightening sound ever heard in the forest of the night.

As they approached the hut, the sound ceased and a new sound took its place-this time, it was the sound of birds-strange birds with red-painted lips and dark piercing eyes, that looked curved inwards. They screamed like humans in pain as they flew around the hut that seemed to be lighted up with some kind of magical powers.

And as they were about stepping their feet on the entrance door, one of the birds screamed like a woman in labor and as soon as it did, it turned into a beautiful woman. She wasn't having a bra on and her well-formed breasts protruded from her chest and that got Mandolin Trump shocked and enticed.

She stood before them completely naked and spoke boldly, "we monitored your coming, what do you seek?"

Mandolin Trump's eyes shifted to Neo Rendos who looked set to talk. "I have been here several times. Don't tell me you don't know me. I seek Demora Tala."

She looked at Mandolin Trump instead and smiled, and that got him wondering what was on her mind.

As she turned around, the enticing shape of her curved buttocks caught his attention again and his lustful eyes sank into it for a few seconds before he recovered himself.

He noticed the cloud piling up in great thickness at one spot had suddenly spread all over mysteriously and that got him frozen to a spot. Before he understood what was happening, he heard her clapping her hands. And instantly the door to the hut opened up with an amazing cracking sound that got the vein in his head throbbing and his heart pounding against his chest.

Then suddenly the beautiful naked woman turned into a great smoke that snaked up into the air above and that got the other birds that had been silent for a while watching the proceedings from the huge trees surrounding the hut to resume their noise.

Were they singing or making a hell of a noise?

Mandolin Trump's thoughts sprang up as his eyes moved around the huge trees once more. He held his hands to his ears for the sound they made was screwing his eardrums already. He knew those birds were not ordinary. They were also the witches in the forest of the night. The strange noise shook the forest for a while and as soon as they walked into the hut through the opened door. The noise disappeared.

"I was told Neo." A voice came loudly behind them and as they turned, it came again. "Sit-

They sat down as instructed and then Mandolin Trump's eyes quickly settled on the strange figure behind the echoed voice.

Panic ran through him for minutes as his eyes walked around the hut that appeared small outside but internally big.

Thoughts sprang up within his mind as he struggled to be comfortable on the stool he sat on. He glanced at Neo to see if he felt the same way he felt and when he noticed there was no form of anxiety on his face, his fears subsided.

Suddenly his fears shot up again when he saw several pots were on the fire and he could see the heads of humans in one of the pots and the others, but he couldn't see anything. His heart skipped.

He adjusted his sitting position and then struggled to wet his dried lips with his saliva within. And as he looked at the far right corner of the hut, he saw a life python.

It seemed to be resting but watching.

Mandolin Trump's hands had started trembling and he wasn't listening to the conversation but when the word power was measured. He responded as though woken out of sleep. "Yes, power, I came for power-yes."

And for the first time since they sat down talking, Neo and Demora's eyes both fell on Mandolin Trump.

Demora now inquisitive asked. "What sort of power do you seek?"

Mandolin Trump watched Neo for a while and when he nodded. He shifted his eyes to Demora. "Miracle power, power to do a miracle in the church, crusades and-"

He stopped talking when he noticed Demora's hands lifted. "Do you pastor a church already?" He asked.

Mandolin Trump nodded to the contrary. "I am about to pastor a church, haven't started yet-just want to get hold of this power thing, first."

Demora smiled and gazed at Neo. "Your man surely knows what he wants. He is a smart man."

He turned in Mandolin Trump's direction and kept his eyes on him for a while. "You are in the right place and I am happy Neo didn't miss his steps this time."

Mandolin wondered what he meant and when he noticed Neo didn't react, he felt relieved.

"What's your name?"

"Mandolin-Mandolin Trump," he answered without hesitation.

"Good name, hmm-do you have a plan or-"

Mandolin Trump noticed he stopped talking when the same naked woman they saw disappeared outside, and reappeared suddenly before them. And spoke for a while with Demora in a strange language and after which, she disappeared. Mandolin Trump noticed something happened and as his eyes fell on Demora, he saw that his eyes were missing.

His heartbeats increased and the thought of running away came but who will open the door?

What happened and what did they talk about?

His thought stopped when Demora spoke again. And this time, his eyes seemed to have returned.

How did this happen?

As his voice echoed around the warm hut again, his ears stood and his thoughts dropped.

"Some pastors come here to seek powers to expand their church or ministry as they will call it. This is a tourist center for these pastors seeking power to be famous and wealthy." Demora put on a faint smile and cut it off immediately. "Powers are given with conditions, although not so grievous to fulfill. So you have no problem once you cooperate with me"

He smiled again, but now, it was offensive.

Mandolin Trump kept on nodding his head for almost everything he said. He knew he will ask Neo for anything, but he does not know afterward.

"You must bury the head of a child in the altar of your church and the blood of the child sprinkled on the doorpost."

Mandolin watched his eyes blink again as he continued.

"Ten percent of the church money collected must be brought here every quarter-no excuse or things will change for the worse and I know you won't like that. The witches of the night must not be vexed. You must comply if you desire to progress in your ministry. You may have the bible on the pulpit or altar, but you must use wisdom to preach what you read to the congregation. I will invoke a power within you that will help you with what to say or do at every particular time."

"T-the child, how can I get it? I have never killed." Mandolin Trump stammered with his voice picking up frightful notes.

But Demora right hand interrupted. "Don't worry about that, in two weeks from now. The head of a child will be ready for you to use-come back here and pick it up. You must be bold and fearless. The power I will put inside of you will help you throughout your pastor reign-yes it is reign. A reign in power, wealth, and women, that is if you do like women but the covenant must be respected-"

He stopped talking when a human head in one of the bigger cooking pots sprang up.

The face was covered up in mud but the voice came forth strong, "Master I have done enough for the mission..."