GETHSEMANE

PREFACE

The man was in his thirties, in a dishevelled suit. He stood by a door, leaning his ear when the door nearly collided against his aquiline nose.

‘How is she?’ he demanded.

‘It is life-threatening Mr Mostafa. This is a strange illness I have never encountered.’

‘We can still try; you should know someone at least. I could fly her abroad – anything, just help me.’

The doctor snatched his hand from his friend’s grip. ‘I cannot lie to you; not that we do not have advanced medical gadgets, or maybe it is the reason, but I have never heard nor seen this strain of typhoid fever.

It is severe and when we administer drugs, it simply resists with rapid resistance.

I have cultured the strain, but I am afraid that this thing is communicable – the little thing I was able to learn in this short time.’ The doctor explained.

‘You will have to prepare for her departure.’ He placed a tentative hand on his friend’s arm. ‘I have tried my best friend, but there is someone I heard about that I cannot even recommend for myself. Here is his card. He is a dangerous man.’ The doctor pulled out a card from his breast pockets and clamped his friend’s hand around it.

‘I will do anything for my little girl so she recovers permanently.’ He promised.

‘Good luck.’ The doctor said and saw himself out.

The man still lurked by the door, beyond was a bed, where lay a little form. He walked in with heavy steps.

His wife was upstairs, crying in their room. This was their only child after the doctors performed surgery to take out her womb, to stop the sporadic spread of the tumour in her womb.

He sat by the bed. Sometimes he was terrified that he would walk into the room and the girl would be dead.

She was close enough to it. He lifted her limp limbs, feeling the weak pulse of her veins. Her forehead was sweaty as was the entirety of her body.

How could he have money and not be able to use it? He knew no one. He turned the card in his hand and made his decision.

He took one last glance at his child and walked out, shutting the door quietly behind him.

The next morning a man came knocking. He carried a dangerous air about him, shoving his way in and looking around. ‘I will see the girl. Show her to me.’ He commanded.

The girl’s father was also a commanding man, not used to taking orders as the landowner of a successful business and a front-runner in the industry.

Despite this, he practically flew to where the room was and entered into the room, feeling devastated, but the hope that bloomed.

‘Leave us alone’ the stranger snapped.

The father reluctantly went out, led by the other man’s team, and dressed in suits. It made him feel uneasy as if he was selling his child to the devil.

The man crouched before the girl. His eyes dilated as he pulled out his silvery briefcase and opened up the syringe.

‘You’re going to be the first – may be the last to this experiment. I hope this works.' He pulled out a fresh pack of cotton wool and placed it on the bed.

He wore a pair of latex gloves, grabbing the pack and tearing it open. He took a bottle of ethanol and doused it upon the wool. He parted the strands on the girl’s neck and rubbed it with the tissue.

Satisfied, he put his materials back. He took a mouthguard and resumed talking then.

‘This is about to change your life. This has been my lifelong research.'

He plucked the only tablet encased from the atmosphere and plucked it into an amber coloured bottle, which was previously sealed. He watched its precipitation, sizzling until it was just plain transparent liquid.

He used the syringe to collect the liquid, releasing the liquid at the tip, swabbed the girl’s neck again and plunged into the receiving vein.

The door opened and the man stepped outside.

The father abandoning any sense of propriety jumped at him, demanding to know if all was well.

‘Show me to a room. I will tend to her.’ The man said.

‘Of course’ The father said, showing him to the closest room on the same floor.

‘I will not be disturbed.’ He snapped and slammed the door behind him. The two men walked over to guard the door staring challengingly at the father.

The father shrunk and retraced his steps to where the girl was. ‘You can’t go into the room, sir.’ One of the men advised.

‘Why not’ he demanded

‘Part of the terms and conditions you agreed to sign.’ A guard reminded.

‘Fine’ the father snapped.

The next morning the strange man went into the room. By this time, the father was not only present but the mother as well. She held a handkerchief to her nose and permanently trickling eyes.

‘Your daughter is well.’ The strange man said gruffly. His eyes held a triumphant gleam. His first experiment was a success.

The father and mother could not believe their eyes and rushed in, but stopped by the guards.

‘Please let me peep at my little girl.’ The mother begged.

‘You can’t.’ the man’s reply was biting. ‘She is alive and well, this disease is contagious.’ He warned.

‘One more day and you can see her. We must go ahead now to discuss this agreement.’ The man frowned at the girl’s father, who would not meet his eyes face.

‘What sort of agreement?’ the woman demanded.

‘None of your business madam’ the man snapped. ‘Lead the way, sir.’ The man commanded.

Inside the room, the girl opened her eyes to blurry vision. The first thing she heard was soft mumblings and when her vision was somewhat cleared she saw the most beautiful creatures she had ever seen.

‘She is a beautiful specimen, the girl. Brother let us return to Gethsemane, where the land is sunny, and the weather humid.’

The ghost’s hand flickered onto the wall. The room grew warm and cold with the smell of the best flowers in the world.

Then she thought she saw a vision of Gethsemane and she had wanted nothing less.

***
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