GHOST (The Shadow in the Dark)

Part Nine

             He had used his calm voice, I was beginning to differentiate the implications of his voice. He was not bluffing.
“Please…”
“You broke the deal.”
“I’m sorry, I will tell you anything, please, I’m begging you please. I’m sorry.”
I started crying because he was always with the deal.
“Who is Ibrahim?”
I stopped crying. He was giving me another opportunity.
“He was my friend.”
“Was?”
“He is dead.”
He became still. I could just feel his stillness. He must have been thinking of how he would use him to blackmail me, how disappointed he must have felt.
“How long?”
“Since I was seven.”
“You are still clinging to someone who has be dead for more than twelve years? You are twenty Ella.”
“I don’t expect you to understand.”
“Tell me.”
I did not want to share. Ibrahim was very personal but I would lose the teddy bear if I didn’t share.
“My grandma and I had once lived in the north. His uncle used to be our neighbor, he had three wives and so many children all cramped up in two rooms. One day, I saw a new face. He was eleven years then and he used to sit at the corridor and cry. His tears used to make me cry too, so some days I would tell my grandma my food was not enough so I could give to him. I thought that was what made him to cry. He would take it and thank me. I would sit close to him till he finished then, I would give him water. But he still cried, so one day, I asked him if the food wasn’t enough but he told me he was crying because he missed his parents and siblings who were killed by Fulani herdsmen. He said he had walked three days to get to his uncle’s place. I had no idea what death really meant but I knew it was something bad because I could almost feel his pains. I would hold his hands till he stopped crying. I told him I had no mum and dad too and it was just me and Grandma and with time, Grandma told him to stop sitting at the corridor but to come inside. Gradually he started staying with us, even sleeping with us because there was no space in his uncle’s house. He became my best friend and I told him everything. He did not like the fact that he was eating for free, so he would go and do some menial jobs and give the money to my grandma but Grandma always told him to keep it for the raining day. I always told him I wanted to have a teddy bear and he bought this one for me. He would sometimes come back with wounds in his body, he kept telling me it was an accident but I knew it was his uncle. It was confirmed the day he limped to our house with blood flowing out his right leg. Grandma had angrily confronted his uncle. That was how I knew his uncle wanted to sell him as a houseboy to one rich Igbo trader but Ibrahim did not want to go. His Uncle told my grandma to pay the money he had collected from the business man if he wanted to side with Ibrahim’s stubbornness. I cried that day because I had no money, Grandma had no money to pay. Even Grandma cried too. Two days later, while he was still recovering from the wound and fever, his uncle brought men to bundle him to his house. He told grandma that he was sending Ibrahim away immediately he recovered. I kept going there but I was not allowed to see him. Then two days later, we heard wails and screams. We ran out to see them wailing that Ibrahim was dead. My grandma did not believe them, we thought they had finally sold him away but it was true. We saw his wrapped body and we saw him being buried. His uncle later came to officially tell us he was dead and buried according to Islamic rights. I became very sick and that was also when my prodigal dad who I thought was dead came back. When Grandma saw that I was not recovering, she decided to relocate to Ozoro and she sewed Ibrahim’s name on the shirt of the teddy bear. Somehow, holding the teddy bear close to me had made me heal a bit, enough to start my normal life.”
But I never one day felt alive, the emptiness Ibrahim left never filled up but I was not going to tell him. I had told him enough, more than what he was supposed to know and I had a feeling that I betrayed Ibrahim.
“So I have no competition.”
“It’s not that I am expecting any sympathy from you but it’s that all you can think of? After forcing me to share something personal, is that all you can say?”
“Yes.”
“You are the worst human to walk on earth, a soulless killer.”
“You’ve said that many times but you keep ignoring the other thing I’m good at.”
“You are only good at killing and ruining people’s life.”
“You must have forgotten, let me remind you.”
And his lips was on mine without warning. I just did not understand what was wrong with my body. It was Sunday and I had asked God for forgiveness not too long ago but I was back to sinning because I did not resist him. I let him fill me. I even shifted to give him more access. There was something different this time, I wanted more. I turned and found myself kneeling and pushing my body to him. He made a groan that sent a flame down between my legs. I pushed further and let him ravage my bare back with his rough and strong hands. He moved over to my stomach and gently pushed me to the mat. He left my mouth and kissed my ear, his teeth grazed the lope making me jerk up with the sensation, his lips was already on my throat and I bent it to give him enough access.
“Your words can lie but actions don’t” he whispered to my ears bringing back my sanity. He was off me before I could push him away.
I felt guilt and lots of shame that tears started flowing from my eyes but he was not looking at me. His eyes were focused somewhere. I balanced my spectacle and saw what he was looking at. There were two men standing not too far from the tent, I was hundred percent sure they were herdsmen.
“Stay here, don’t move.”
He brought out something from a bag in the tent and was out before I could protest.  I did not even know why I wanted to protest but I was afraid for him, might be because of who Hausas and Fulanis represented to me. And I was right because one of them brought out a riffle and pointed it at him. I could hear Hausa and he was shouting at him to go on his knees. The other one changed to Hausa Pidgin English, after Ghost did not respond.
“I say go on my knees” the one with the gun shouted.
The other one told him he was wasting time, he should just shoot him, let them have their way with me but he responded that killing could make the locals hunt for them but they would not bother much if it was rape because my boyfriend and I will be too ashamed to talk about it. Then the other one told him that the man he was telling to kneel down was not cooperating and he really needed to copulate with someone or he would burst.
“I don’t want to kill you, I will rather solve your erection issue. You won’t be able to sleep with a woman. But I want to give you a lifeline, go.”
And he was so calm, like he was explaining the meaning of something to someone and a gun was not being pointed at him.
“I go shoot you now.”
“Once you pull that trigger you die.”
Even before he finished his statement, I saw something spinning with light. It was cylindrical in shape. It came out from where he had left the bag, which was same place he was standing. The man pulled the trigger but the bullet did not hit Ghost almost like it was deflected. Ghost was on him before he could get another shot. He pushed something to his throat and dodged the other ones dagger which he was aiming at his back. He raised him up and slammed him on the ground, then pushed something into his throat like the other man who was already convulsing. The other joined the first one to convulse, foam was coming out of their mouth as they jerked. Soon they were dead, because they were no longer moving.
     As Ghost walked back to the tent, I started shifting back and only stopped when my back hit the end.
“Are they also humans? I’m very sure you know what they wanted to do to you.”
He moved closer to me but I wanted to disappear.
“What did you do to them?”
“They died of a snake venom, case closed.”
“Couldn’t you just knock them out?”
“Next time I will think of handing you over to them. I thought they are things to you or are they now humans?”
I could not answer, hating them was different from watching them die. And he just said he would let them hurt me next time.
“I hate them and I still hate them but that was a horrible way to die. Is not that you are different from them.”
“Really?”
“What you are doing to me is not my choice. I won’t lie to you that my body does not want it but I will be lying if I tell you it’s what I want. You are making me hate my body.”
“Picnic is over.”
“Keep on deluding yourself that you went out on a picnic if it makes you feel better.”
I froze when he looked at me. I had said the wrong thing and there was a consequence. He took my spectacle from me.
“I need to pull down the tent, get out.”
I preferred his other voice, not the calm one. I was out of the tent in a jiffy and I watched him dismantle it with his wristwatch, after he had packed out the things inside. The tent shrunk and he dug out the four poles holding it to the ground.
    He did not say anything to me and he was still quiet when he dropped me by my gate.
“See you tomorrow night.”
“I thought you’ve found the file.”
“We will explore your memory tomorrow.”
And with that, he drove off. I had to knock at the gate and I was lucky someone dimed it fit to come open for me by 1:13 AM.
“Are you mad? Why can’t you sleep over there? Do you know you are disturbing everybody?”
I had to shrink away to avoid the spit he was sending to my face. He was really angry.
“I’m sorry.”
“If you plan on repeating this nonsense, just buy all the keys and have one for yourself. I hate noise.”
He left and his footsteps resonated his anger. I locked the gate and also locked the inner gate and jumped on the bed as soon as I entered my room, Ibrahim in my arms. I was worried about his silence, about what he would do. I hated his silence but I hated my life more. My phone blinked.
‘You are mine, don’t forget that.’
‘I’m not your possession.’
I did not know why I kept pushing him.
‘Is the deal over?’
He was such a manipulative jerk, making me feel I had a choice and I chose him.
‘No.’
‘Good, dream of me.’
‘I hate you’ but I did not send it.
I was trapped and there was no getting out, nowhere to run to.