The White Tulip – 1

The White Tulip – 1

It was the dead of night. The sun had since set, taking the day with it. She hated the darkness  because she had an inexplicable fear of the dark. She was sitting at the only table in her very meagre room, staring at the vials on it. She picked one of the them up with a shaking hand. Two drops was all she needed but, she opened it and poured all its contents into the bowl containing her oatmeal. She picked up the spoon and stirred, willing her hand to lift the food to her mouth.

Suddenly, there was a loud knock on her door and she jumped, the spoon clattering back into the bowl. Who could it be at this late hour? She sat quietly, hoping the person would go away  but the knocks continued persistently. She sighed; she could always poison herself later. She walked to the door, leaning lightly on the wooden frame.

‘Who is it?’ she asked warily.

‘It is I, Lasher’ a male voice answered quickly.

She opened the door slightly, poking out her head,

“What do you want?” her voice was emotionless.

“I found out where they buried him, it’s near the tomb of his father, and I have prepared our transportation”

She shook her head,

“No, I do not want to see his tomb, I have done enough damage, surely you understand” she whispered.

“Do not be silly! We both did the damage, his blood is on our hands, I need to pay my last respects and so do you. It is only just, you owe him that much!”

She realized this was one of those times when Lasher displayed his tenacity for persistence; she sighed again.

“When do we leave?”

“Now! It is not very far, we shall be there by noon, I got a cab, but we need to pay him.”

“I will get my veil and the money.” She closed the door behind her; going to her single bed she reached for the small corner where she had hidden some money.

Counting the notes she needed, she picked up a black veil; she was in full mourning attire, mourning the first and only man she ever loved. She tied the veil, carefully covering her scanty scattered hair and then turned to the door.  In afterthought, she turned back to the table, picked the second vial and hid in the small pocket of her dress.  She carried out the poisoned food for disposal.

Lasher was waiting impatiently outside. The old man had always been like that, and his impatience was ageless.

“Is that food for the journey?” he asked, she shook her head.

“It is bad, I want to throw it out” she said, not knowing how she would tell him it was poisoned.

They both made their way to the hired cab outside the compound. There was a strong gust of wind blowing, predicting that a storm was soon to come.  It played with the sand and quickly erased the imprint of their footsteps. She looked back at ground as they disappeared, wishing it was that simple to erase her deeds…

*           *           *

“Tell me the secret behind your power, how is it that you can kill people with your mind?” she had whispered in his ear, as her hand played with a particularly long string of his dreadlocks.

They were in her house on her king size bed. The room was decorated expensively but tastefully and  at the same time, very feminine and  very seductive. He was in a half lying down position facing her  while she was sitting up resting her back against the pillows at the head of the bed.

He smiled, taking her hand from his hair; he turned it upside down and bent his head to kiss the middle of her palm. She snatched it away quickly; that singular simple act had distracted her in the past she was not going to let him get away with it again.

“Why do you want to know?” He asked, his brow was raised questioningly.

“I need you to confide in me, as  proof of your love to me. Tell me the secret behind it, because you are like no man I have ever met.”

He looked at her for a while, as if he was trying to be sure he could trust her and she returned his gaze with her most blank look.

“Tell me, my love,” she said as she put his head on her lap. He seemed satisfied with her expression of love so he said,

“I’ll give you a clue; I am like the Israelite from the tribe of Dan.”

“Tribe of Dan? Wait I have heard that before! It is in the Bible, isn’t it? Surely you jest! This is the year 2073!”

“You read the Bible?” He inquired with a smile.

“Of course I do, don’t change the subject, Mr! How is it that you have this ability?” she asked again.

“You know I’m the only child of my parents, my mother waited many years before I was born. Just before I was conceived, a messenger of God appeared in my mother’s dream, telling her that I would be born, that I had to be promised to God from birth. Flowing also from that promise, I have never cut my hair because that is where my strength lies, it is also the reason I do not drink alcohol.”

“But we met in a club!” She said with a little laugh.

“I know, I was drinking juice.” To be fair she had never seen him drink alcohol, so she could not refute his words; she had only made the assumption based on the circumstances of their meeting.

She did not doubt him, the strength of his mind sometimes scared her, but she knew he would never hurt her, just as she knew without doubt that he had just told her the truth. They fell silent, enjoying the quietness of the night while she caressed his head till he fell asleep.

“Lasher!” She called for her most trusted servant quietly even though he was a deep sleeper.

“Bring me a pair of scissors.”

“What shall you do with it? Do you want to stab him in his sleep?” he asked with alarm.

“Hush old man and do as I ask quickly before he awakens!” she whispered urgently.

Then he brought the scissors and handed it to her. When he saw she was about to cut his hair, Lasher understood immediately.

“Wait! Are you sure of what you are doing? You have tested him in the past and he has lied to you three times, he may not be as forgiving this time if you are wrong.”

“He told me the truth, this time I can bet my life on it, there was sincerity in his voice that I had never heard before.”

Just when she was about to cut the first lock of hair, he tried to stop her again,

“You don’t have to do this, you can tell him the truth” Lasher said as he nodded in the direction of the sleeping man.

“The truth? It’s either Angela or him? Does Angela not deserve life too? I have to choose Lasher” she reached for the hair again.

“What about your love for him and his for you? Surely that has to count for something.” This question was almost inaudible but she had heard it, her hands stilled.

“I do not love him and as for his love for me, he will get over it, I need my baby in my arms again,” she replied her voice devoid of emotion, but her hands started to shake as she tried to cut the first lock of hair again. Lasher seeing the inner struggle on her face, took the scissors from her and cut the hair all by himself while she watched with anxiety.

When it was done she sighed and picked up her cell- phone, it lay on the bedside table; she took a deep breath before she dialled a number.

“I have found out the secret behind his power and he is a threat no more, you can come for proof.” Then she cut the call and said,

“It is done Lasher, shall I be free now?” she asked him, Lasher had no answer, but he saw the torture in her eyes.

“Be gone before they arrive, I need some time alone with him”

When they were alone again she stroked his cheek softly, as if trying to remember this moment forever.

In a short while, five soldiers entered her room. President Arthur always sent his minions to do his dirty work; they waited patiently for her to rouse him.

“Awake my love! You have some visitors!”



23 thoughts on “The White Tulip – 1” by Meena-Adekoya (@Olajumoke-Adekoya)

  1. Meena! Meena!! Meena!!!
    21st Century Samson?! The depths of your mind boggles mine.

  2. LOL
    very nice
    Samson brought back again.

  3. DAMN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

    OKAY O…I HAVE NOW OFFICIALLY ADOPTED ANOTHER……….

    DAMN.

    YOU REALLY ARE GOOD.

  4. Nice one Meena; was beginning to wonder when you were gonna treat us to your writing again.

  5. Mazi Nwonwu (@Fredrick-chiagozie-Nwonwu)

    Meena, nice one, as always.

  6. I love this, modern day Samson and Delilah. Very creative, Meena. You do well.

  7. Good one. Modern day twist. Really loved the style, from end to beginning. @seun about time we started the coup. This girls’re really becoming better by the day.

  8. Girl! You blew me away with this one! Simply awesome! I really love it…is the next installment coming soon? no delays abeg!

  9. i really love the way you added flavour to an old testament story
    it worked for me
    i like

  10. This is simply cute. You are good!

  11. Meeeeeeeeeeeeeeeena,you rock,where were you?I love the twist,pls don’t let the man die.

    1. so sorry for abandoning NS i was mad busy wiv my dissertation but i’m back now…i cant wait to read all that has be posted while i was gone…i’ve missed everyone!

      1. Welcome back, Meena. We all missed you. And we love your ‘2nd coming’ story. This is simply looovely!

      2. we sef we miss you o
        welcome back

  12. Hmmmmm so retellings are all the rage now? I cant even use big words to describe how good this is. Am speechless….
    I would give this a thumbs-up but they are waiting to scroll down to the next part of this story.

  13. Beautifullllllllllllll

  14. Nicely told, Meena. A good mix of biblical, futuristic, fantasy and sci-fi :D. Great multi-tasking! The writing style reminds me a lot of Anne Rice and her Vampire series; she’s one of my faves and I always wanted to write something dark and thrilling too! Waiting for the next one ;).

  15. And what a way to come back…..

    This is good Meena, you never disappoint.

    Well done!!!

  16. Nice one Meena,very creative.I’m curious to find out where the title comes from.

  17. Hmmmmmmmm, hmmmmm, thats all I can say. It’s creative, certainly a future samson, nice one sha.

  18. awww…thanks guys you have all made me feel at home again on NS, this story is a product of a writing competetion, i didnt win thou…

  19. I took part in that competition also but didn’t scale through. It was the story that won the first prize in the competition this year. It was good anyway that you indicated that it was the product of a competition because I actually thought that you plagiarised on that story when I read it.

  20. the power to drop it like its hot is in you meena.

    Nice idea to drive the story – a modern day samson. I like the anonymity you placed on the guy. makes the reader to guess if it is really samson or not.

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