MILLIPEDE CHASING - PART 11

MILLIPEDE CHASING

This story is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

PART ELEVEN

When he got back home, it was 8.25 a.m. He attempted to get some sleep again, but he simply could not. It was torment to be awake all day and not being able to get his rest. Emenanjo decided he would try later in the day at 2:00 p.m., as he expected the church service to be finished by then. After all, most churches finished at that time. While he was thinking about all these new developments and his day being utterly ruined, he heard a knock on the door.

“Who can that be?” he thought. Okafor would not be back from work until 6 p.m. He was not expecting any guests either. In fact, he only had a few friends and they were all in church by now and it was really odd to be surprised by a knock on a Sunday morning.

Reluctantly he opened the door and the first thing he heard was, “Hey! My friend, how are you doing? Where are you hiding?” said the tall, slim 6 foot, 4 inch man in a high-pitched voice.

“Solomon! Solomon! I can’t believe my eyes to see you!” Emenanjo cried out in a pleasant cheer. The two teenagers hugged and shook hands. Both of them were equally thrilled to see one another and sat down for a drink.

“I bumped into Okafor yesterday. And he gave me your address. I heard you were not well, sorry,” said Solomon.

“Really? Okafor forgot to tell me that he saw you yesterday. He was so tired when he arrived from work and maybe that is why he did not remember,” Emenanjo explained.

“Well, I am here now and I am very happy to see you too. You guys have absolutely surprised me, since you have solid jobs with your motorcycle business. Most of the boys from the Orphanage had become thieves and some of the others got shot robbing people.”

Emenanjo knew Solomon was right.

He still remembered the good times he had with Solomon whilst living at the Orphanage. Solomon had always been a decent boy, and it did not surprise Emenanjo that he was employed and had managed to stay away from the crime and lawless life the other boys succumbed to. While Solomon was looking around the nice apartment Emenanjo prepared some fried egg and sweet bread with tea. He and Solomon sat down and ate together from the same plate, which was normal for some Igbo people. After eating, they watched a new release Nollywood film but that did not stop them from chatting and laughing about the times in the Orphanage, about jobs and women. Solomon was the one over interested in talking about his beautiful girlfriend. Emenanjo felt a little jealous as he never found the courage to ask a girl out. So, as they chatted incessantly, the clock kept ticking until it struck 1:30 p.m.

“Oh, look at how the time has passed!” Solomon exclaimed. “I have to go or I am going to be late meeting my girl.” Emenanjo sighed, but he was glad he did not have to hear any more about Solomon’s woman. His guest gave him a tight hug before he left.

By this time it was perfect for Emenanjo, who suddenly realised that the nearby church had finally ended its day’s service and that the neighbourhood was once more back to being its old quiet self. Relieved, he went back to sleeping like a little yellow chick snuggled up peacefully in its mother’s feathers.

*****

The weather remained sunny and the sun smiled brighter than ever, causing a spell of thirst in the young man’s body. Emenanjo was parched and his bones had begun to fail him. He did not have the advantage of food intake, which his enemies had as they were constantly buying food and drinks from the endless street food hawkers. The pastor and his people were never going to give up, it seemed, and their hearts were strong as rock. Every man has a breaking point and that would soon sink into this young man’s skull.

“Oh no!” he almost fainted, realising that he had been slowing down considerably for a while now, resulting in his chasers gaining on him, and they were now just a few feet away. They were rapidly closing in on him, like a pride of lions about to lunge onto an antelope. His joy had indeed been short-lived. The police had proven themselves to be useless as they were nowhere to be seen. Who would save the thief who insisted that he was not a thief?

The story continue… Part 12 will be posted on the 30/08/2014