I KNOW THE DEVIL 8

VIGILANTE GROUP

I keep this diary because I know someone as nosy as my Mom would come sniffing someday (I’ve never caught her in the act, but I’m sure she snoops into my small book of secrets). Whoever that someone is, I want you to read this, because I believe I’m going to be a superstar someday and you’d be digging deep to gather information (or fossils, if you prefer) for my biography. I don’t have the intention of doing an autobiography; neither do I have the intention of making the job difficult for you…

Cutting the long shit short, so many things have happened since that day Preye got me out from police net, since our first sex. The sex was great but not as superb as the ones that followed. We did it almost every day. There was a particular boring Saturday (a typical Enya Lazy Day) where we had it three times in the morning, three times in the afternoon and three times later in the night, before falling asleep. It was like doctor’s prescription, only the type you enjoyed. It was so because the day before, her family had travelled to Nembe, but she wouldn’t go with them because she was preparing for her WAEC.

I helped her out in that area too. I put her through in Mathematics and English and I’m proud to say that her English is becoming Elizabeth’s. And this is the sole reason why I believe I’m not doing the devil’s will. You see, my friend, if it were just sex! sex!! sex!!! then you can comfortably say I’ve failed in my mission. You can say with certainty also that I don’t even know who the hell the devil is. But I know him. I fight him anytime he wants to take charge of my will, and with God by my side (always by my side) I defeat him.

But recently, with the nature of the things happening in my life here in Bayelsa, I’m growing uncomfortable. Preye has been acting like she’s down with a fever. Each time she sees me outside, she looks the other way and kinda hurries away. She doesn’t come to my house anymore. She’s got no phone yet so I can’t ask her through that medium (which seem to be my best alternative) what the fuck is wrong with her. I’m beginning to think she’s pregnant. If that’s so, I surely can’t be responsible. It’s got to be the devil, and I won’t accept his responsibility. I won’t!

Also, I always seem to find myself in the midst of SiaSia and his pastor crew. They are bunch of chronic smokers. I find them interesting because they tell Bible stories after five to six wraps and we enter into praise and worship (war-ship, ha-ha) sessions too. They don’t smoke cigarettes, it’s always Marijuana, and their term for it is ‘god’s stick.’ I think they are cool guys, because in a way – that is, if you’re like me that try to find the good side of bad situations – they get me closer to the word of God.

Finally, and worst of all is that Harry ran down to Bayelsa because he had wiped his Dad’s account clean, and not because he wanted to make it out with me. The old man discovered his cheque book missing one morning and when he got to the bank to enquire, they told him that Harry had cashed the exact money in his account. The foolish man signed blank cheques. I don’t know the idiot that told him Harry came to stay with me, neither do I know who gave him my phone number. The old man called on the morning of Monday past week and told me to provide his son or pay him the sum of four point five million Naira.

What the hell did Harry want to use that kind of money for?! The goat hasn’t appeared in my place after the night he used my bedroom, the night I spent in police cell. His number isn’t going through anymore. Dear friend, my goat friend Harry is at large at the moment, and I, who isn’t the Prodigal son in any way, is expected to return to the goat’s father his missing property. I don’t even want to think about this anymore than I want to think Preye is pregnant. So far, he’s been bugging me with calls. He’s promising to give me an ultimatum soon. I think I’m going to dump my line for a new one, and it’s going to be a Glo network this time. The crazy network is very unavailable here.

Seriously, my friend, I smell the devil in all of this. It better not be him. It better not be. Meantime, I’ve gotta  go and hang out with SiaSia and his crew this afternoon. Till we meet again in this platform.

Excerpt from my diary; Friday (Sorry, I don’t write down dates).

*     *     *     *     *
Most of the time, I like to wear oversized singlet and baggy shorts to meet SiaSia’s crew; reason being that I don’t wear these clothes to anywhere important. I need to save my more important clothes from permanently acquiring the fumes of smoke. I am getting into a Lakers singlet when my door bangs open. It forces a start from me. I turn sharply to face the intruder.

Standing with arms folded under her breasts is Preye. She is dressed like one going on a date.

“Why have you abandoned me?” She asks.

I don’t want to reply her. I’ve watched a couple of Nigerian movies (mostly out of my will) to know that when a lady takes in for an unprepared guy, she tries to make him feel guilty for neglecting her, guilty for avoidance, where in the actual sense, she is the one running away from him. It’s one of those strategies to make the disclosure subtler.

I’m done putting on the singlet; I reach for my wrist watch. It’s sitting on the windowpane.

“Lucas, it’s not fair.”

Yes, I forgot to tell you this part. Preye is one of the very few who would not call me Luku. And the way she calls the name gets to that soft spot in me. Maybe this is one of the reasons I got more attracted to her. Not now, anyway. I want my pound of flesh.

“So avoiding me is not enough; you don’t want to talk to me too.”

I fit my legs into a pair of slippers. I intend to walk past her, to leave her standing there in my doorway trying to prick an unseen Lucas’ heart. She better learn to acknowledge her fault and apologize.

“Lucas, what have become of our promise? You’re hurting me. You don’t care to know what have been wrong with me. It’s not fair; I’ll cry.”

‘What has been wrong with me?’

Exactly what I’m scared of, I pause in thought. I should turn around and march out of the room, but I’m afraid of the emotions I’d see on her face when I turn around. She sounds like she really would cry. I don’t like to see Preye sad, it makes her look so helpless and… and… vulnerable.

“Lucas. Won’t you even look at me?”

I shake my head. I remember doing this to my mom a lot when I was growing up. It wins me her show of affection. But that was long ago, I’m a grown guy now. I really don’t know why I’m doing it at this moment anyway. I think I would do anything just to avoid turning to look at her. Oh! I’m even facing the window; it wouldn’t be a bad idea diving out of it.

I feel warm arms around my shoulder, then something warmer and softer pressing at my back. My heart melts instantly. Her perfume finds its way to my nostrils, it’s mild and sweet. I find myself recalling all the places and positions in this room we’ve ever had sex.

“You’ve got to give me an answer today, Lucas.”

I’m still not going to say anything, though my big boy underneath is protesting.

She somehow twists away from behind me and gets in front of me. It feels like magic, more so because she’s in my embrace.

“Say something to me.”

I stare deep into her eyes, those deep brown eyes that shine like diamonds under the glare of the sun. I want to tell her that she’s wasting my time; that I’ve got somewhere important to go. It would be a terrible mistake to say something like that. The atmosphere defies such remark, so does my big boy. It wants me to play along. It’s begging me to behave.

She draws her face closer to mine. I can hear the sound of her breath, it sounds ragged. I know what it means. I can feel my heartbeat pick up speed, it’s responding to her gesture already. I remain the way I am, watching as her eyes slowly go closed.

God! Where are you?

Her lips, soft as always and smooth, brushes mine. I close my eyes momentarily while she wraps her arms around my neck. I open my eyes then, so suddenly.

“No!” I say.

Her eyes fly open and an expression of worry creases her forehead. “Why?”

“I’ve not answered your question, one. You’ve got a question to answer too, two. And we just can’t begin like this after such a long time of… of… You know what I mean.”

She shakes her head and smile. “I don’t know.”

“Don’t play this game with me. You know.”

“I only know that I love you.” She brushes my brows with her thumbs. “And here comes the question you so want to answer. Lucas, do you love me?”

I take her hands away from my body and go to sit on the bed. I’m drained, believe me. I don’t think this small girl understands what love is. Plus, I’ve got a girlfriend at home – Damilola (who haven’t decided it’s time to call me since I left Lagos).

“Preye,” I say, looking into her eyes so she knows I mean every word I’m about to say. She holds my gaze and walks over to me. “Do you think you know me enough?”

“I don’t think anything. And I don’t want to.”

“And that’s not fine because not knowing the person you think you love is the closest thing to death.”

“That is one of your belief, not mine. What exactly happened in our case is simple: A girl meets a guy and she loves him. Nothing in this world matters to her anymore but him.”

I quit! That angle I was attacking from wasn’t the right angle. Bad as it is, I don’t know any other angle to approach this situation. Love is senseless, there usually is no need trying to define it.

“I can break your heart, Preye. I won’t apologise to you when it happens.”

“I won’t be careless to allow it happen.”

“What extra measures would you take to prevent it?”

That was a wrong question. I know the answer already. Preye has her hand on my crotch. She’s doing marvelous things to it through my baggy shorts… and she’s not the devil. No she’s not.

“Alright,” I try to scream, but it comes out as a whisper. “I get. I get.”

“No, you don’t.” She draws my head closer.

I’m not going to let this happen. I see SiaSia stretched out on a bench, his head lost in a cloud of smoke. His voice can be heard though. ‘Daughter’s of Eve are like good smoke,’ he’s saying. ‘They get into your head and you feel alright. But when that moment is over, they return to the atmosphere. They can’t promise you anything more than the moment.’

SiaSia has never ever said something this meaningful, but right now as Preye is struggling to get me off my shorts, I don’t question the man behind the wisdom. I push Preye away. Not so hard, but she sits down hard on the floor and begins to complain.

I drag my shorts back to my waist and redo the knot. Preye hasn’t gotten off the floor yet, she’s crying and it’s breaking my heart. This is such a terrible life! I go and sit with her on the floor.

“I’m sorry.” I say.

“You hate me.” She replies.

“No I don’t. I’m just scared.”

“Of what,” She wipes her eye and turns to me. “Why are you scared?”

“Remember the last time we had sex without condom?”

“What about it?”

“Aren’t you pregnant?”

She cackles; the sound like those witches make at night – I’ve never heard one before – and I cringe at it.

“What’s wrong with what I said?”

The laughter reduces considerably, enough to allow her speak. “Is that all you’re scared of?”

“No. I’m not scared of it at all. Just that I’m still young and I have nothing. I can’t take care of you.”And I’m also expected to pay four point five million naira. I’ll die, can’t you see.

“We’ll get married before I take in for you.”

I miss a breath. I want to correct something there but I see it’s only going to extend the discussion. All I care for at the moment is to join the SiaSia crew, not like I’d smoke with them.

I sigh. “So that means you’re not pregnant.”
“No. I’m not. For two weeks though, I’ve been having typhoid.”

Oh! I see. I see why she’s been acting weird, why she avoided me, and why she started the conversation with the accusation. The blame can’t be wholly mine; they can be shared if you analyze the matter well. But who cares for the analysis.

“I’ve got to go.” I say.

“Not without me.”

“You don’t even know where I’m going to.”

“Whether it is, I’m better dressed for it than you are.”

Crazy bitch!

“Legs get going then.”

*     *     *     *     *

The venue is the same. The only thing different is the makeup. Today it’s not just SiaSia and his other three crew members – I’m yet to know their names. Sitting on the window at the far back is Austin, while Kingdom, Tamarakuro (the one talking fuck at my window the other day), Yakie, and Harry (Praise be to God almighty) are seated about the unpaved ground on empty cement bags. I’m yet to understand why marijuana smokers use uncompleted buildings.

There’s mixed expression of shock and surprise on all their faces when I walk in with Preye. I can read the question on all their faces; they are all harmless questions and completely not an obligation for me to reply, except those on Harry’s face. His seem to say, ‘I like your girl. We ought to share her.’ I feel like reaching out to the goat with a serious slap, but I don’t want to do anything that’ll draw concern. I only came here to have a nice time.

I’ll have a private session with Harry later.

I look at Preye, expecting to see doubt in her expression. That she’s actually dishing out smile to each of the guys we walk pass is so surprising. The girl can be full of surprises. We don’t join them on the floor. There’s another unoccupied window. I help Preye get on it, and then sit beside her, lest she fall (ha-ha).

SiaSia brings out a bag from nowhere and spreads it open in front of him. Inside it is dried weed, brown and grated like teabag components. One of the self-acclaimed pastors provides sheets of clean white papers cut to specification and passes it around. I take one and Preye gives me a stern look.

Don’t worry Bae, it’s just for show.

“Let us pray for god’s Providence.” SiaSia announces. “Please all eyes closed and all caps, for the guys, removed. Ehn… Luku, give your girl a handkerchief to cover her head.”

Just for weed’s sake? No problem.

Harry stretches a white handkerchief to Preye while my hand is halfway in my pocket. I feel like punching this guy right now. I mean it.

“Thanks.” Preye smiles at him, but refuses his offer. She dips her hand into my back pocket. “Here it is. I wonder what you’re thinking searching in your side pocket.”

I smile at her. Austin gets his phone ready for the after prayer jamz. The guy is all about music.

“Our daddy and uncle in heaven, we ask for daily bread and you always provide. Be with us as we smoke your stick, let the holy smoke that comes from your stick chase the evil ones back into their holes, and give us the wisdom to meditate on your words. All these we ask as we enter into the realm of high cloud. Amen!”

“Amen.” They all chorus. Well, except me, Harry, and Preye.

Harry’s expression says, ‘what the fuck?’ I’m not indulging him this time. He’s got questions to answer. And look at him, he stinks of money already. I’m not scared that he would steal Preye anymore. She’s shown me reason to have faith in her.

One by one, the guys come forward to fill their papers with weed. Kingdom is the last to step forward, he winks at me.

“Should I get for two?” He asks.

“Don’t worry.” I say. “I’ll do as the spirit leads, and when he does.”

They all burst into laughter. Preye’s laughter alone rings in my ears; it’s musical. Austin begins to play his music as the cloud forms. He plays Jesse Jagz’ Louis, his speaker is loud in a way that is almost perfect, and the song is too good. I never knew Jesse Jagz had good flows. We listen to his Louis in silence, banging our heads to the rhythm and beats.

Smoke ascends into the air from every angle and circulates the building, so much that I can’t make out the guys seated on the floor anymore. Someone once told me that it was better smoking weed than inhaling it. The guy went further to point out to me that most lung cancer patients never smoked weed, they only dwelt in the company of friends who smoked like chimneys. I asked for statistics and his answer was simple and curt: browse it up.

I don’t want to believe that guy’s assertion. The smell of marijuana is good, and if we follow the tenets of Logic, good things don’t and can’t cause harm. I inhale so much smoke that I begin to cough. Preye tugs my arm; I think she wants us to leave.

“It’s too early.” I whisper into her ears, surprised I didn’t bite it off in the haze.

Someone laughs out loud, and immediately following it is the sound of shattering glass. Preye, in her panic, almost pushes me down the window. She hugs me tight. I sit steady with all the muscles in my ass tensed to accommodate her weight. I’ve got to be her hero no matter what.

“That fucking disciple should put his sword back into his sheath.” SiaSia commands. “We’ve not come to war, we’ve come to share the gospel as brethren.”

“Disciple, you still hold your sword?” One of SiaSia’s guys asks.

“No need for it, anymore.” Kingdom replies.

I swear; I’m shocked to hear the sound of his voice. What did he intend to do by breaking glass?

Jesse Jagz is singing about Burning Bush now and I realize that he might be talking about us. We’re inside an uncompleted building burning bush and the smoke is about to choke us all but we stay in still. It’s the oxygen we need to live, the camouflage we need to hide us from our enemies.

“What is wrong with these boys?!” A voice screams. It’s coming from outside, and I know who it is.

Wild geese run the length of my grave. It’s prison time again, brothers and sisters. The others too must share this understanding because they are all quiet. Nobody inhales, nobody puffs. We all just wait for the smoke to drift away and disclose the appearance we dread.

It did in no time, and standing in front of the door is the Landlord. His face is contorted in a frown that can make the devil shuffle in unease. His piercing eyes scan our faces. It stops on Preye. He opens his mouth to say something but I cut him short.

“Oga Landlord,” I say, “You just came at the right time for the fellowship.”

“Which mumu fellowship be that one?” He screams. I have come to understand that he only screams. “I’m going to call the police straight away. You boys are good for nothing. You are all thieves. All of you must provide the television and DSTV and Ten thousand naira I couldn’t find this morning when I woke up.”

“Did somebody steal am?” Another of SiaSia’s guys asks.

Dumbass pastor.

”Are you asking me?” The small man turns and marches back to his house.

Just like that?

Austin throws me his phone and runs after him. The thing hits me square in the chest as I wasn’t expecting it and lands on the ground. I hear a crunch and understand immediately what has just happened. The screen is broken. I and Preye exchange a glance.

We all watch silently as Austin liaises with our Landlord. At first only the man’s voice could be heard from the far distance, then it subsided, and then finally it came to gesticulations. The man turns to look at us, rage burning in his eyes; I had to ask myself why. He begins to approach us, Austin tagging along.

“You have to form a Vigilante group and get me the real thief since you said you’re not the thieves.”

“No, we’re not.” We start saying, but our Landlord is on the move again.

Austin shrugs and walks over to me. He stretches his hand when he gets to me. I point to the ground. He looks at his phone and back at me, disbelief the chief expression on his face, then bends to pick it up.

“It’s broken.” He says in a bewildered tone.

“Not my fault.” I say.

A heavy blow lands on my mouth, my lips split immediately.