I KNOW THE DEVIL 7

Good day guys,  here’s another episode to pass the time. Do have a lovely day and a great week

PREYE

I’m finally out of darkness and into light. Last night was my worst night. Although I was squiffed, I was fully aware of my surrounding. I was hauled into a dark room that stank of sweat, putrefaction and faecal matter. I could make out no one in the dark but their voices came at me like pebbly missiles of rain, they came from all around me. Some were laughing hysterically, some were talking in whispers, and a whole lot of others were simply babbling. Anyway, my auditory organ picked these sounds as one – screams. My mind was doing a better job, it was going through the series of activities that led me here. When it was done, I was left with a question:

Where is Harry and that sweet girl of his?

“Who is Harry?” A guy that looked like he’s in his prime was asking me.

“Harry is an asshole.” I answered.

I must have given the exact answer they were waiting for because they all began to laugh, those whispering and those cursing alike.

“Give Asshole a mat and clear him a space where he can lay it.” The guy in his prime said.

True enough, this guy was in his prime. He was the General of Cell (G.O.C) in the particular cell I was thrown into. He has stayed the longest in this same cell, and was accused of rape. He has nobody to bail him out and his case is still awaiting trial. He’s seen many a criminal come and go and learnt to make a home of this gaol. This place has become his own, his pride, his happiness.

I was given a mat and shown a clearing. It was adjacent the window, and that was how I knew the place was not entirely unvented. However, what came in as air was meagre and as hot as steam. The moment I laid my head on the stale mat, a torrent of puke exited the expanded passageway of my throat, forming a little acrid-smelling pool around my mat. I was choking where I lay, trying to vomit my innards and incapable of doing so.

“Air! Air!!” G.O.C screamed. “Give Asshole some air.”

The same guys that had shown me to my sleeping area rushed at me. One hefted me unto the other’s shoulder, and together they lifted me so that my head was facing the five inch high rectangular window. Iron bars ran at regular intervals on the window.

“Catch some air, Asshole.” G.O.C said and the cell members laughed.

A rush of warm air washed over my face and my stomach constricted. It’s coming again, I thought. The guys holding me up to the window suddenly left me. I don’t know how it occurred to me that they weren’t going to catch me before I crash to the ground, it just did. So did my reflex, it just came. I grabbed two bars and clung to it dearly. The cell members began to laugh all at once again.

Laugh on, you all. Be thinking I’m Phyno, the show maker.

“That’s right, Asshole. Get all the air you need.”

And that was how I spent most of the night hanging from the window because lying on my mat in a small room crammed with twenty eight guys felt like choking in hell. I fell to the ground minutes later when my arms had turned into rubber, and then came the mosquitoes.

The show was over, the guys were retired to their respective mats. They slept four to five in a mat but had their bodies covered with wrappers and old blankets. And there I was, a mat to myself with nothing to cover me from the menace of the hungry mosquitoes. I wouldn’t have closed my eyes and fallen asleep if not for the guy sitting in a near corner jerking off slowly and looking passionately at me.

Now into light, I’m staring right into the face of a sixteen year old (she’s got to be sixteen), stark surprise, and sincerely grateful. She’s liaising with the policewoman at the counter and occasionally gazing at me from where I stand in the doorway. The look on her face is all the mirror I need. I’m looking very terrible, no doubt, but this little girl that has come to bail me out of the police net very early this morning is neither disgusted nor sad about my appearance. She looks at me the way Jesus had looked at the prostitute when all her assailers had dropped their stones and fled. At the moment, I really don’t mind that she’s  the girl at the bathroom who had called me ‘the new human being;’ the girl who had followed me up after that terrible incident in the bathroom, wanting to know if I had fallen on my sperm; the girl who wants me to keep her secret, our secret.

Could this already be the secret?

I’m handed my clothes and shoes and phone by the policewoman at the counter. She’s giving me that rude, rough treatment reserved for the worst criminals but I know it’s only a facade. The lady is fancying me, I know this just like I know the sweet little neighbour of mine also is. Even she knows this because she’s frowning.

“Stay here and put on your clothes. We don’t let criminals walk out of here nude.” The policewoman says, first scanning my chest with her heavy-lidded eyes and then bringing it to my face with a big scorn.

“Okay.” I say.

I remove the tag on the bag with my clothes then pull out my Jean trousers. I take my time to dress, thinking about Kingdom and Austin and Siasia, the self acclaimed pastor. I wonder if anybody has come to bail them, wonder if anyone would. I also wonder why Harry or Yakie hadn’t come to bail me. I don’t think on this line for long, they both are devoted assholes.

“Am I free to go now?” I ask the policewoman.

“Good. You’re free to leave.” She assesses me with her eyes and a painful smile lights up her face. “Stay away from crime and every form of violence. We don’t hope to see you here again.”

Of course, not here. She hopes to see me again somewhere else, I’m very definite about this. I wasn’t rough handled in the cell (I’ve got God and my stars to be grateful for this) so I saunter out of the counter region and into the small reception area. The girl, my neighbour, gets off the chair and walks right into my side, running an arm over my waist. I’m surprised at the casualness of the action. It forces me to sling an arm over her shoulder.

God! What am I doing?.

“This small girl, you don dey do lovina-lovina abi? No come back here come report say him rape you oh.” The police woman calls behind us.

“E no concern you eh.” My neighbour replies.

*     *     *     *     *

At the exact moment my phone comes on, a call comes in, it’s my mom. I sigh then pick it up.

“Luku, where are you?” She says, worry etched in her voice.

“See the kind of question you’re asking me.”

“Don’t mind me, it’s just that I’m worried about you.”
There never is a time she doesn’t worry about me. Her worries was what drove me down here in the first place and look what it has caused me. My neighbour passes me a pasted toothbrush and I signal her to hold it a while. She frowns a little then returns to her sit. I don’t like that I don’t know her name yet. Actually we haven’t had ourselves some time to talk. We’re under the awning of a small chemist. It was her idea that I clean up a little before we get carried away with talks. She knows there’s really plenty to talk about.

“So what is the worry about this time?”

“I had this dream last night.”

Oh there she goes again. My mom is of the lineage of Joseph. She dreams a lot and they mostly always come to pass. The last dream she had about me was when I was about to write my first JAMB examination. She dreamt that someone – my seat mate – slipped his little sheet of cheats under my answer paper while I was picking up my fallen pencil and I got caught five minutes later. It happened exactly as she had narrated and more. I had to plead with tears before I was allowed to go back home without the life imprisonment punishment ascribed to the act. And of course, I had no result for that particular exam.

“What was the dream about? Hope it’s something good.”

Already I know it’s not something good. She sounds very worried, and… scared.

“You slept in a police cell last night.” It’s a statement, not a question.

“Oh my God.” I slowly take back my seat, goosebumps racing across my arms. “What happened next?”

“The girl you’re with.”

I turn to look at my neighbour. She’s hungrily munching a sausage roll and there’s a bottle of La Casera in her other hand. She sees me looking at her and raises an inquisitive brow. I smile at her.

“What’s wrong with her?”

“Luku, that part of the dream is hazy. I still don’t know if there’s anything wrong with her, and I don’t want to accept that she’s evil. She’s a small fine girl for Christ sake. She’s just seventeen.”

“Ma, what are you even saying? She’s a small fine girl. Does evil have a stereotype appearance? Why should the dream even get you worried in the first place if you believe she’s not harmful?”

“You’re not meeting her for the very first time today. Do you think she’s harmful?”

That’s the problem, I don’t think she is. All I see when I look at her is an uninformed girl with a terrible case of crush. I’m even beginning to grow attracted to her. I just realised this morning that dimples appear on both sides of her cheek each time she smiles. God! How those turn me on.

“So, what’s the essence of this dream?” I ask, tired to the bone.

“Maybe you should love her back.”

I laugh abruptly, causing my little neighbour to start. I signal with my hand for her to calm down and then she smiles at me. I really wouldn’t mind loving her, I realise.

“Then what happens to Damilola?”

“Forget Lola, she’s a boy. None of my sons would turn gay. God in heaven forbids this.”

“Ah, mommy that’s unfair. Damilola is beautiful and curvy and …”

“And gay. A girl who doesn’t know how to turn her man on is gay.”

“And who told you she doesn’t turn me on?” I shout at my mom but it goes to a dead line. But that was the truth, I’ve never been moved by the sight of Damilola’s body, not even when she stripped for me behind the closed doors of my room.

Just how my mom knows this much is unsettling, very unsettling, and unacceptable. I slide my phone into my pocket and stretch my hand for the toothbrush.

My neighbour shifts closer and hands it to me.
“I know I turn you on.” She says.

I turn to look at her, shocked. “You shouldn’t say that.”

“Well then, tell your big boy to stop showing me the truth.”

*     *     *     *     *

The door to my room is wide open, the bed is in total mess, two used condoms are lying on the ground, and Harry is nowhere to be found. I stride in, kick the door close and curse under my breath.

“Oouch!” cries my neighbour, holding the door wide. “You almost spoilt my nose.”

“I’m sorry.” I say.

She steps in and walk to the bed. I pick up the used condoms and open the window for air to circulate. Almost a blast of air, which is very refreshing, pushes its way into the room.

“This is very nice.” She says.

“What?” I wheel around.

“Nothing. Just the breeze.” She smiles amiably and I feel Jimmy begin to grow large and uncomfortable inside my jean. “Don’t just stand there. Come and sit down let’s talk.”

I begin to wonder who should be in charge of this session. I’m older and we’re in my room, my perimeter of control, for God’s sake. I walk clumsily to the bed, the condoms hidden in my fist.

She chuckles as I sit a few distance from her.
“It’s not shit you’re holding. Smile jor.”

And I really did smile. The girl is bad and bold.

“It’s bad as shit, and twice irritating.”

She pries my hand open, I don’t forestall this. She picks up the two shiny latex condoms and examine them.

“Your guy didn’t drop anything inside here. Have you noticed?”

“Not at all, and I don’t care to know.” I snatch them back from her.

They disappear into the back pocket of my Jean trousers. I face the girl sitting on my bed. She stares back at me in silence, her lips partly open. Another draft of air rushes in through the window, it lifts the tendrils of hair that wouldn’t stay together with the rest packed at the back of her head in a little bun. She closes her eyes to slits and smile, those dimpled smile of hers. Without even thinking of what I’m doing, I take out my phone and give her a shot. She laughs and the sound is a melody, very pleasant to the ears.

“Let me see it.” She lunges at me.

I push myself out of the bed. “Come and get it.”
“You have to let me see it.” She goes all four on the bed and stare seductively at me. “I’ve got to see it, or…”

“Or what?” I take small paces backwards until my butt is touching the window frame. I wave the phone at her.

“Or I’m going to make you pay. Make you beg me to stop.”

“I’ve never begged a girl, or had any reason to do so.”

“I’m not a girl, I’m different. I’m Preye.”

“Uh-huh? Being Preye makes no difference. You still can’t  effectively carry out a threat on me.” I make as if to slide the phone back into my pocket. “And there it goes.”

Preye leaps from the bed and to my surprise, I’m carrying her the way you would carry a very big TV the very next moment. I caught her in the air, by God I did. She wraps her legs around my waist and press in closer to me. I am very much aware of the soft load of her breasts pushing against my chest and the tickle of her warm breath on my neck. My heart is banging uncontrollably in my chest.

Dear God, what am I doing?

“Why is your heart beating so fast?” She asks, almost in a whisper.

And she has fresh breath.

“Let’s say it’s happy that I’m still alive after all that happened last night.”

“Even though I’m yet to know your name, I like you. I liked you from the very first time I saw you. You think it’s silly for a girl to make this kind of confession?”

I’m lost for words. I swear, this girl is bold. It doesn’t occur to me to liken this quality of hers to that of the devil. I’m busy trying to understand the swift transition of our talk. She had switched the topic of our discussion so effortlessly and ingeniously that I’m left groping for words. She’s looking deep into my eyes, those same emotions I caught in those deep brown eyes by the window are very much present and alive. Deep longing, deep desire.

“My name is Lucas. But you can call me Luku.”

Oh no, I did not just say Luku. Did I?

“Kiss me Lucas.”

Just like that, I take her lips in mine and we delve into a passionate kiss. She parts my mouth open with her probing tongue and I welcome it in. It tastes like the apple drink she had before coming here. I adjust to a sitting position on the window. Another draft of air wash over us. It’s me sitting on the window and kissing a girl that must be sixteen years old (or seventeen, going by my mom’s disclosure) and I don’t care. I only care about the sweetness of her lips, the soft breasts flattened on my chest, the mild fragrance of her filling my nostril.

I carry her to the bed and dump her on it. We hastily take off our shirts. I help her out of her bra and we commence kissing almost before it falls to the bed. She directs my head to her breast. I take a pebble-hard nipple between my teeth and caress it slowly with my tongue. She lets out a soft moan of pleasure and holds my head tighter to her breast. She soon begins to a wriggle. I ask myself whether she’s under some strange anointing. It is only when I take my face up to look at her that I realise she’d been wriggling out of her trousers and pant.

The sight of her lying naked on the bed is my undoing. I quickly take off my Jean trousers and join her on the bed. She lies atop me and we begin to kiss again. I reverse the position and that is when it occurs to me that I’m going out of my mind.

I pause to consider what I’m about to do. My mind is in pandemonium, good and evil are having a dirty fight and ordinary thoughts are running helter-skelter. I know what I’m about to do will please the devil but I refuse to think of the devil at this moment. I choose to think of what our body wants, our hearts are beating fast in confirmation to this. At this moment everything is wrong but for what we want. I remember my mom saying, ‘maybe you should just love her back.’ This is what a man should do, this is what she wants of me.

“If you don’t want to do it, I understand.” Preye says softly. “But don’t get off me. Just keep touching me.”

“I want to do it.” I say.

She smiles. “I love you.”

I don’t reply her because this is complicated. She takes my member and carefully guides him inside her.

“Wait a minute.” I jump down from her and reach for my trouser.

This is the best time to back out. Reason is begging to take the reins again but I don’t let it. This is sweet insanity. It’s been long since I had this, I won’t let anything stop me now. I take out one of Harry’s used condoms and slide it over my erect penis.

“Take me slowly.” She says.

“Shhhh. Don’t say any other word.”