The Rain Of Ruins

The time was 12:00am by the time l looked at the silver-coloured clock that hung above me.

Night had crawled in one earth's ground; the cold absence of a human voice made my room more like a graveyard. l couldn't sleep; yet l tightened my eyes, trying to fall asleep. the night would have been a lovely one if not for the horrendous dream l had.

l woke up into a cold world of terror and viciousness. l peered around but there was nothing, not even a building. l shifted my gaze towards the sky and it was dark red, the colour of blood. just immediately, there was a panic growing in the pit of my stomach, making me ill. The first drop on my cheek made my lower lip quiver uncontrollably. it was blood, not water; my entire body was soaked in blood. My heart beat so hard that l didn't understand why it didn't break through my ribcage. Horror meshed with my brain and was transmitted, wave like, to my toes. Tensed in every limb, my dress stuck to my vibrating body. I started running, in no direction in particular; shadows drifted eerily, ghost like in the uncommunicative darkness. Then, l came to a halt, because my trembling legs couldn't move any longer; my tensed toes were pinned to the ground. My eyes were peppery with hot sweat and despair flooded my mind. Then l saw a figure detach itself from nowhere and move like an errant ghost towards me. I felt a shiver dance down my spine, and l looked at my hands, and, behold, l was holding a gun; my hands trembled with the gun l held. Then I turned towards the figure, but it wasn't there anymore. l pointed the gun fearlessly into space as a sudden boldness enveloped me.

"Drop the gun!" a deep voice ordered from the back.

Immediately, l saw some police cars surrounding me. Then the rain ceased, the bloody rain and the stars emerged from under the black skin of the night. l turned towards the policeman that stood right behind me, with the gun in my possession. Then a gunshot was fired; the bullet pierced through my forehead, sending me flat on the ground.

"William!" a voice brought me to reality.

l rubbed my eyes and stared at the door. Mama was standing, hands akimbo, her loosely-tied wrapper around her waist.

"Good morning, ma," l said in a low tone.

"How can you still be sleeping by this time?"

Her voice was a pitch higher.

l looked at the wall clock; it was 9:00am. "l'm sorry ma," l said getting of my bed.

She frowned and shook her head like a parent whose child had given the wrong answer to a simple homework question and then she left the room.

l sat down on my bed, reflecting on the dream l had earlier. "it was a dream, just a dream," l assured myself.

The morning was exquisite; the sun was caressing "it's citizens" with warm, loving fingers. l smiled, seeing that it was already the second month of the year. Papa had said that 2010 did not favour him and l had hoped, within me, that this year would be better. l walk towards the window; the warm breeze that swept into my room, rattling it's shutters, presented a wonderful atmosphere. l stared at the small- screen television that sat elegantly before me and then, at the wall. the conspicuous pictures of Mama and Papa adorned one side of the wall. My bed bed at the left end of the wall, which was the size of a sports car, took much of the space in my small room.

l heard a scream from downstairs and l rushed towards the window and looked down the two-storey building.

it was Blessing, our housemaid, who behaved like someone who was possessed; at least, that was what Father said when Blessing fought the bus driver that lived under our flat. she screamed just because father's Toyota Camry had made a peep peep sound when she touched the steering. Five years in the city, yet she behaved like a village champion; her scruffy appearance wouldn't tell otherwise.

Even though Mother usually called Aba a village because of it's dirtiness and bad roads, l had often wondered how Blessing's village would look like since she referred to Aba as a paradise.

l inhaled slowly as the pungent fumes of kerosene mixed with the aroma of curry and nutmeg from the kitchen floated into my room. l had always preferred Mother's food to that of Blessing. Blessing's food was never tasty; maybe my tongue tasted differently whenever l ate her food because Father would always applaud her after each meal she cooked. l looked at the wall at my right; the picture of Mother and l, which we took three years ago, hung hopelessly; it was the picture that papa always teased me with, saying that I looked like a dog in a baby suit. The cake was almost taller than l was if not for the pair of big shoes Father bought me as a birthday present which l insisted that l must wear before taking any picture to avoid burying my face behind the cake; the shoes Blessing had called a bulldozer.

l walked into the living room only to see Father coming out of the bathroom. The pair of boxers he wore was the size of Mother's towel, big enough to accommodate Mother, Blessing and me put together.

His skin was as dark as the bottom of a pot and his Adam's apple pushed out of his long neck like a wrinkled nut. His tall slim body looked more like a plank of wood.

"father, good morning," l greeted politely.

"How are you doing?" he spoke in British English. Father usually spoke British when he was happy. He made use of ambiguous words, most times medical terms, when he got upset. He would say, 'l can see you are suffering from diabetes insipidus or acute pericadiasis'. This made me wonder if all doctors behaved like that in their homes.

"l' m fine," l replied, smiling as he walked past me into his room.

The walls of the rectangular-sharped living room were painted lagoon blue and the sky colour of the curtains further accentuated the beauty of the living room. The figurines stood on top of the flat-screen television like soldiers in the 1960's ready for war.

l heard raucous noises downstairs and l remembered that today was Friday, when Charles mother and her husband would fight because of what Charles mother referred to as 'money for weekend' and Charles father would deny having any money, asking neighbours why a woman would demand money for the weekend. l ran quickly and stood by the iron bars of the black-coated railing of the apartment's balcony. The balcony gave a clear sight of everything happening in the small compound.

"Okey, it is one thousand naira, not five hundred," Charles mother shouted, holding her husband's trouser and tapping her feet on the ground.

"Woman, leave me alone; that is all l have.

How can you use a thousand naira to prepare a pot of soup for the weekend, eh?" Charle's father voice was lower then hers.

"When you were using me to manufacture eight children, you didn't know that a pot of soup would be costly, abi? Abeg, give me the money sharp sharp, before l show you," her electrifying voice was raising in pitch. Funny enough, Charles mother was more muscular than her husband; you would never be able to tell that she was a woman unless she was wearing a skirt, which she found rather unfashionable to put on. Her chest was just as flat as my father's own.

Charles father eyes were darkened with fear; it was a shame to be beaten by a woman. Worse still, the crowd had increased rapidly from the neighborhood, watching in silence.

l was really enjoying the scene. mum had earlier said that Charles mother should become an actress, that she had the makings of a good actress.

Mother was right, considering the nonchalant behavior Charles mother had exhibited, not even concerned about the crowd that was increasing in number.

"Sheh, people is here, l will wound this woman oh," Charles father spoke in this time. The fear had disappeared from his eyes, anger was written all over his face.

A short laugh escaped like a burst of air, from Charles mother mouth, and she paused like something had choked her, and, then, like a time bomb, her laughter lengthened with a few more syllables. She withdrew her hand from his trousers and then, like it was a challenge, she hit her hand on her chest. "Oh, you will wound me, eh; you want to fight me, she," she said and turned around as though to make sure someone was watching her.

"This thing is going to wound me," she said, pointing her finger at him. Her dark skin was covered with beads of sweat that gleamed in the sun.

To Be Continued....

Dawn came swimmingly, flooding the entire flat at 6:00a.m. The lavender rays of dawn provided an impeccable atmosphere.

l heard a cry from the living room and l hauled myself out of bed and went straight into the living room. Crystal was answering a phone call and Blessing sat happily on the couch.

"Which hospital?" l heard crystal ask in a sober tone and then she ended the call. Her eyes hardened and darkened all the more.

"What is the matter?" I asked, looking directly into her eyes.

Her countenance gave nothing away. She bent down as a tear dripped down her cheeks.

My jaw clenched hard; I hated seeing her this way. It made me want to cry with her.

"Your parents had an accident on their way to the village," She said, looking at me.

Something lurched in my stomach and l felt my stomach tighten so hard. My mouth became watery, full of questions. "Where? What did you just say? What happened to Mother and Father?" I asked, bending towards her.

She kept mute, still crying.

"Ewo!" Blessing started shouting; it's like she didn't understand what crystal had said earlier.

"Oga is dead oh."

"It is your father who is dead," l shouted, moving towards her. I wanted to slap her as father would, perhaps to see if my slap would have the same sound as father's.

Crystal held my hand just immediately. "Your Mother is fine," she said still holding my hands.

I took off my hands, now looking at her like she was the enemy. "Are you trying to say that Father is.......," I felt a muscle twitch in my jaw and could not complete the question. Torturous thoughts harried in my brain. "I couldn't lose my father just like that, at least not now." I thought. I felt like I was being stabbed on the chest.

"Your Dad is on the brink of death; the doctor that called said he was in coma and his condition is critical," Crystal stated bitterly.

"I' m going to the hospital; which hospital is that?" I asked, throatily this time.

"Please, don't go, Oga child; do you want to have accident?" Blessing said, holding my trousers.

What kind of creature was this? I wondered.

My parents were involved in an accident and her advice was that l should stay here and look at her.

"You, Blessing; you would be the one to have accident; nonsense!" I lashed out at her and took her hands off my trousers.

"Eh, I don't want to bury anybody oh; Oga is dead and now you want to join him," Blessing continued.

"William, please leave her alone. I will take you to the hospital; just give me a minute," Crystal said calmly.

"You will hear from me by the time l come back," I said to Blessing, sitting down on the couch.

Seriously, l hated this girl, her stature, her shape which is more like an ape's. The way she reasoned and the way she talked convinced me that she was not of this generation. I kept thinking about Dad; I couldn't be referred to as fatherless, not at this age.

Crystal came out and we left for the hospital.

We arrived at the hospital; I never believed that doctors could be taken to a hospital for treatment until now. Father was in a hospital, not his own, but a teaching hospital. The ward was desperately busy. we were directed by one of the nurses to a room by the left-hand side when Crystal asked her if we could see Dad.

The room we entered had six beds; four were arranged along one length of the hall, and the other two along the adjoining width. The maps of decay on the ceiling indicated the poor state of the roof l peered through the room in search of Dad, but l wasn't seeing him or Mum.

"my head ooh!" Came the distressed shouts of one of the patients who had fallen off the bed. The bandage on his head was soaked red with blood.

My heart pounded hard. I could hear the rhythmic beating of my heart. Then l looked down the hall and l saw mother with the doctor. She was shouting and tears flooded her swollen eyes. As we came closer, I could hear her clearly, her voice cracked as she spoke. "This man is a pastor oh, he is supposed to be a pastor. How can he be looking lustfully at a young lady just because her sagging trouser revealed her bare buttocks, eh?" Mother's voice increased in pitch. She sobbed as she kept on talking. "How will l raise my only son without him, eh? He caused this accident; shouldn't he be even dead?" She then sat down on a stool helplessly.

My watery eyes gazed steadily at her; she hadn't noticed our presence yet. She was in pain; so much pain l could feel it.

l reflected on what she had said earlier. l remembered the first time father took me to fellowship on a Sunday evening. As we drove along, he saw a young lady whose dressing showed the top of her breasts. He told me that women like this lady were sent by the devil to destroy humans, but the way he kept staring at her was so suspicious. I didn't make any sense out of it until just now mum was saying a similar thing.

"William my son, you shouldn't have come,"

Mum said Immediately she saw Crystal and me. She hugged tightly, but she didn't say even a word to Crystal, even when Crystal had greeted her. She just hissed and sat down on her stool. I quickly said to myself that it was because of the pain she was currently going through. The bruises on her legs were minor but her right arm was bandaged.

I looked beside her and saw Dad lying feebly on the bed. He was lying on his his back motionless, as dry as a harmattan season corpse. I felt a dart of fear in my belly. The fear paralysed every breath of air around me; the fear of losing my Father. Father's face was crumpled and his eyelids sagged. His mouth was grim and his lips and cheeks looked as if they had frozen

I walked towards the bed on which he was lying, holding his hands gently. Tears poured down my cheeks and l cried uncontrollably. "Stay with me, Father," l said, looking at his eyes which were already closed, hoping he would open them and embrace me as he would when he came back from work every evening.

Mother hugged me tightly; her swollen eyes still had the black purple colour of an overripe avocado. "Go home, dear; l will come back as soon as possible," She said still hugging me, with tears dripping down her cheeks.

"Father would be fine," l said optimistically and then turned to leave with Crystal.

Crystal was beside father; she wasn't really crying but her countenance seemed she pitied Father's condition.

"Get away from my husband, you prostitute!" Mother shouted at Crystal. Her voice had become deep; it was not like the calm voice with which she spoke to me. "Ashawo! Leave my husband oh" she continued, coming towards Crystal.

Crystal quickly let father and headed for the exit.

l didn't really understand what Mother meant.

"Was she distressed at the moment or was there more to it than l anticipated?" l asked myself.

Crystal and l Left for the house few minutes later.

Three weeks later, Father came back from the hospital. Crystal was the first person father hugged, when he arrived home, and then me. Father looked strong like nothing had happened. He told me that it was God who had healed him and brought him back to life and l kept thinking how Father knew that it was God who healed him when he was unconscious. I didn't really believe there was God; Father didn't have time to tell is about the gospel.

He was usually engrossed in his work, and he loved keeping to himself. Sometimes, he would leave home for about two weeks and came back later to say he was on call. He cared less about the family; at least, that was my observation. But he provided us with money as much as mother and I demanded.

Mother's behavior had also changed. The way she addressed Father now was entirely different from the nice and respectable manner with which she conversed with him. She started keeping late nights, just like Father. We hardly prayed in the morning, unlike the way we did before.

"William, how have you been?" Father's voice was low, as that of a boy who was learning how to speak.

l smiled slightly, looking at him. "Father, l have something to tell you," l said to him, without bothering to answer his question. l thought that if there was anyone who needed to answer that question, it was definitely Father.

"Well, that should wait for now, l really need to get some rest," Father replied sharply, walking into his room. l watched him totter like a big man with the spindly legs of a child. He hadn't fully recovered, going by the way he talked like he was dying. perhaps, he needed time to recover and regain his strength fully.

To Be Continued...

Father wasn't at home, and neither was Mother.

It was just Blessing and I at home. I went into my room; worry lines etched on my forehead. l wanted fast money. James had promised to teach me, but l wasn't sure of how he was going to do it. l turned on my laptop; all l browsed was pornography. My life was taking a different dimension. I was walking through a path that was foreign to me, a path in which l needed guidance. I needed Dad's assistance; I was drowning in something that l didn't want to, but it had gripped my every bone, making me weak . I kept thinking till l sank into a mind-numbing blank sleep.

I couldn't help pulling the trigger. It came like a shock. I was ordered to watch the old man closely against any suspicious move. Then, he made for his phone, insisting on calling the police.

great man, as he was fondly called, was a rich man in his late fifties. I had once seen him going into a hotel with Mum. I asked asked Mum, later on, and she smiled tightly saying that Mr great man and she were just business partners.

As l stared at the corpse before me, my pulse throbbed in my temples, my heart seemed to have dropped into my stomach. Tiny beads of perspiration had covered my entire body and my legs trembled.

I had killed a man old enough to be my father. The rule of the robbery was not kills; we just used guns to scare them in all our operations. James had assured me that we would always come out clean as long we did a neat job, My panicky eyes stared at the old man as blood gushed out of his head. Before l pulled the trigger, he had spoken to me. I could still remember the calm words with which he spoke.

"My son, you are too young for this; how are old are you?" He asked in a soft tone.

"Eighteen," I said sharply, still pointing the gun at him.

"You were misled by your bad friends; this will ruin your life, dear," he spoke, more calmly.

"You better shut up your mouth before l blow off your fat head." I spoke firmly, trying to be in control. But l was losing it.

"I have a son who is your age-mate and he is now in the university and soon he will become a medical doctor; you shouldn't have be doing this. l' m old enough to know that you don't want this".

I turned backwards, using my black T-shirt to wipe the tiny droplets of tears that crawled down my cheeks. "Hey, old man, I may look little, but l' m very mean. Shut your damned mouth and put your head down," I bawled, still pointing the gun at him.

All l felt was anger. I wanted to shoot everybody; Dad, Mum and even myself. My final words to him convinced him that l was furious, and then he made for his phone.

I stared frightfully at the corpse before me.

My eyes began to widen, goose pimples engulfed me and my breathing rate increased. I grabbed at my heart that was kicking like it want to escape.

"What happened, omo what happened?" one of the robbers involved in the operation asked on coming into the room.

"You are crazy? what did l tell you boy; James thundered on getting to know what had happened.

My trembling legs were pinned to the ground. What l feared most was that l had killed someone, a family man

"Guys, is movement. let's leave here quick quick. Move!" James ordered.

I seemed not to hear; l kept looking at the corpse in front of me. Tears trickled down my cheeks; I wept silently.

"You are mad, move jare," scorpion, one of us pushed me immediately and I followed. As we entered the car, I looked out through the window only to see Mr great's wife and children crying bitterly for their father. I had made this children fatherless and the woman a widow.

"My man you dey fuck up! Well, it is one of those things. it is just a matter of time; you will have to kill more people on this path you have chosen. Be a man," James said crossing his hand over my shoulder.

The words "be a man" rang in my ears and l tried to compare them with Mr great's words"You are too young for this." "Was l ever going to get out of this?" I asked myself. I let my head flop downwards to rest on the my raised knees. I already knew that l was never going to the university. Dad has try convincing me, but l had stood my ground, because James had told me that the university was just a total waste of time. He strongly suggested that l need a fast money, not spending years reading books.

It was 1:00p,m. the following day. That afternoon, l had drunk a lots of alcohol with the gang. I just thought it was best for me to return home. The door was unusually open; l entered slowly and closed the door behind me. All the rooms were closed except Dad's room. l walked in carefully and to my greatest surprise, l saw Crystal. She was lying on Dad's bed,with a wrapper across her body. l was shocked. Then l looked around the room, but l didn't see Father.

"What are you doing in Dad's room?" I questioned, staring at her.

"Eh..... the heat was too much in my room so l came here to get some air," she replied with stammering lips.

"ln Dad's room? And dressed like this for God's sake." I paused a while and stared lustfully at her. l was a bit drunk at the time, but that wouldn't affect my sleeping with her. l seemed hit below the belt at the sight of provocative display of her long, shapely and spotlessly fair legs, which made my lips watery. "l had to taste this," l assured myself. l forgot about every other and focused on her. l reached a hand at her back and started stroking it and my other hand moved between her thigh.

She resisted, holding my hands from exploring her body.

"What is your problem?" l asked.

"What if someone sees us like this? What will you say?"

"See, l locked the door firmly; so we are safe." she protested, trying to get off the bed.

"Hey, be still," l shouted, pulling her down.

"l will scream oh, William, leave me alone. l said leave me alone, because l will shout oh."

"Scream, you said? After screaming, you will explain what you are doing in Father's room." l forcefully removed the wrapper that was on her; she tried to stand, but my strong hands held her firm. l had to do it by force, since she refused doing it the easy way. She tried to scream, but l carefully covered her mouth to make sure that she didn't make a sound.

l was almost done before l heard a knock on the door. l stood instantaneously and walked hurriedly towards the door. l opened the door and stared in amazement. it was Father; he wore khaki shorts and a long-sleeved shirt that was barely buttoned.

"William!" Father exclaimed raising an eyebrow.

"So, that explains why Crystal is on display in your room, eh?"

"Which Crystal? What will Crystal be doing in my room? Has she lost her mind?" His eyebrows furrowed and he walked briskly into his room.

"How could Father think so low on me, did he think l could easily be fooled?" l asked myself.

Father entered his room but Crystal was already out. "Where did you say Crystal was?"

"ln your room, of course," l replied sharply.

Silence hung over the living room like the blue black clouds. Our voices were frozen in place like that of a plaster statue in an abandoned corner of a museum. Father entered Crystal's room minutes later and stayed there.

Another knock was heard later on. Mother and Blessing came in. As soon Blessing saw me, she left out a cackle, her teeth flashing against her dark skin.

"Where were you last night?" Mother said vociferously.

"And what business of yours is that," l replied, scowling at her.

"How dare you talk to me in that manner? Are you nuts?" She barked; her eyes hardened.

"it's your husband that has gone mad," l said.

"Seems you are mad eh? Should you insult even your parents because you are now eighteen years old? l just walked out on her and went towards the corridor. l saw Father ran out of Crystal's room as soon as Mother came into the living room. He beamed his winsome smile on Mother and tried hugging her.

Mother drew back, hissed and entered her room quietly. Father got dressed, minutes later, and left with Crystal, in his Toyota Camry.

It was around 4:00p.m. l had gone to see James at 22 Faulks Road where he lived.

"Where is the beer l told you to buy?" James voice rumbled like thunder.

"Arusi, come on, let's go get a crate of beer,"

Scorpion said quickly. They nickname me Arusi, saying that l was small god, even though l had never seen myself as one before.

l hurriedly followed Scorpion to go and buy a crate of beer for the gang. At Asa Road junction, we stood waiting for a clear road before we could cross. immediately, a motorcycle stop in front of us and two huge men came down. Both of them wore a black T-shirt and a black trousers. One of them was fat and his head was unusually big. One of his eyes was closed and he opened his mouth to reveal a set of brown teeth.

"Guy, na this one, abi the other; which one?"

The other asked his partner, pointing a gun at both Scorpion and me.

"Omo, l no sure oh, let's just eliminate one of them," he replied. "Hey, don't move or l blow your head," One of them shouted as Scorpion attempted to pull out his gun.

"Guy, l need a clean job, which one em be, make l clear am now?"

Scorpion and l stood still as a gun was pointing at our heads. My heart pounded wildly, my cheeks were frozen and hot urine trickled down my legs.

Just then, one of them shot at Scorpion, "If it is not this guy, then it will be the other; let me clear this other guy," he said after he shot at Scorpion."

"Chairman, let's leave here sharply before any problem," the other said. They zoomed off in their motorcycle seconds later.

A film of sweat coated my entire body, like a transparent second skin. l gazed at Scorpion; his body was still, his entire body was soaked in his own blood. my knees were frozen in the earth and my mouth flopped open. l began to shake like an agitated ant. Then, l took to my heels, my heart thumping so fast that l thought it was going to pop out.

some boys who saw me running chased after me, some throwing stones at me. "Holla m! Catch am! He is a murderer. Catch him!" their electrifying voices rising in pitch.

l ran as fast as my legs could carry me, but the stones did not elude me. To my surprise, a car stopped beside me; the driver gesticulated that l should enter the car. l didn't ask questions, but entered into the car immediately. The car zoomed off in a second.

On looking very well, l found out that it was James driving the car. At that point, panic mixed with relief made my voice to constrict. "James, are you really the one?" l asked, still panting. It was as though my head was turned upside down. Everything seemed to appear double before my eyes. My heart kept beating so hard, like the base drum in my school was being beaten. Seconds later, l fell unconscious.

To Be Continued....