The raindrops were now driping from the leaves,the cloudy skies rumbled,and streams of water rushed down the tarred street.The storm had passed.The electric high tension cables lay in puddles on Lantana Main Street. The sheet of rainwater overflowed the street,over the blocked sand filled drainage,touching the bottom of the gates on both sides of the glistening road.
House number forty seven was quiet.Other than the owner of the house,Mr. Bitrus,the house was quite empty.His wife and three children had travelled to their mothers village in a neighbouring state.It was two P.M and the maid had already left after fixing him lunch.He had told her to leave and not to mind about dinner because he was going to eat out,and now the rain.His girlfriend would be disappointed.He sat on a plastic chair on the verandah before the parlour,enjoying the cool after rain breeze,watching the rain water streamlets gushing over the ground,almost drowning the buds of the flowers.
He was,by trade,an insurance broker.He sat there staring at gushing waters,seeing nothing,confused.He was supposed to sacrifice a child.He had a P.H.D in insurance marketing.Two years without a single client was not natural.It was Juju,it must be those insurance professors competing with him for controling shares in insurance firms.Mr. Bitrus was at the verge of bankruptcy.He had signed assignations for most of his hard gotten shares for money.He had mortgaged his house to multiple banks using the same residential house as collateral.His debts were piling up.He was playing a very dangerous game.
The witchdoctor had stared into the finger drawn animal patterns on the sand and said quite clearly;”You must sacrifice not an animal this time,but a human being.A child.The sacrifice must be without sin.Only a child is truly without sin”.Only then could the clouds that hovered over him clear.The Lord cannot blame him.He had taken the battle to the Lord.And the Lord had failed him.
“Do not worry my child”,said the pastor,”Even if your sins be as red as scarlet,they shall be as white as snow.Just take heart.The Lord will bind them for you,and you’ll get clients”.
And still:Nothing.Though he did not tell the priest what was in his mind.The supernatural… death of his enemies.And why should he,he mused,The Lord knows what was hidden in his mind.The destruction of his enemies was the best path to financial resucitation.But where would he find a child?There was a knock on the gate.Bitrus looked up.
“Who is it?”
The small door at the side of the gate was pushed open and a seven year old girl entered,pushing it close behind her.
“Good afternoon sir.”
“Ah,ah,Mercy.What are you doing here wading through the water?”
“Is Patience back?”
“No she’s not back.They’ll return after the weekend.”
Mercy looked disappointed,standing in the gushing water,a doll in her hands.
“Baba Patince,the high tension wires are down in the street.”
“Really?Stay away from there.Go back home immedeatly okay?”
She noded.She turnsd and walked towards the gate, singing;
“Mary had a little Lamb,the Governor is dead in the spring without snow.”
“What?Mercy?”
She turned at him with a mischievous smile,raising her eyebrows.
“Stop singing that song.”
It was then it occurred to him.The witchdoctor said kill a child.The method was not specified.Why not the girl?The prophet Abraham did it.Or almost did it.Mr. Bitrus would have killed one of his own children,but they were too old.He cannot become bankrupt.If the Mallam made him rich,he would pay him well.For the Mallam was poor.Sitting on sheepskin,counting his rosary,gazing at the mysteries in the animal patterns drawn on the sand .
“Mercy?”
She stopped in her tracks,one hand resting on the gate.
“Would you like some chocolate and vanilla ice cream?”
“Yes”,she shouted,jumping happilly in the water.
“First you must play a game.”
“Play a game?Okay.”
“You see the high tension wires outside?They are not dangerous.I want you to go and hold one.Are you a brave girl?”
“I AM.”
“Good.Hold one and pull it off the street.I know you are a brave little girl.You’ll make the road safe for all pedestrians.Mercy,save lives.Your family’s too.When you return,the chocolate and vaniila ice cream’s yours.”
She droped her doll in her excitement and rushed outside.Mr. Bitrus became still.waiting quietly.There was the sound of feet splashing through the streams of rainwater,then a loud electrical zap,then silence.Mr. Bitrus took off his slippers and waded through the water to the gate and opened it a crack.Yes,she was roasted,her small body lying in a puddle,dead.He closed the gate.
He walked back to the verandah and sat down on the comfortable plastic chair.The dew was still driping from the breeze shaken leaves.And the flower buds seemed to float on water.He would inform the witcdoctor.He hoped her parents had taken out a life assurance policy on the child.They would have profited from her death.He closed his eyes,feeling calm and peaceful.
A writer should not be ashamed to lie about how it all ended.He went into the bedroom and hanged himself.
THE END
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yahayamadu @yahayamadu
Life is a bed of roses. Thorny but beautiful. Novelist. Short story writer. Poet. Chronicler of the art of life. You can follow me on twitter @ http://www.twitter.com/yahayamadu. Blog @ http://www.yahayamadu.wordpress.com .Go to yahayamadu's profile, and read more of his/her posts.
Not sure I like how you ended this one. ” A writer should not be ashamed to lie about how it all ended.” you are telling a story. You are the writer. Go ahead and just tell your story the way you want to. My opinion sha…
I am with @magic. Let’s see what others say.
Though magic’s suggestion is cool, I feel you put that last paragraph on purpose, not because you couldn’t write an end.
Don’t know what the others would say, but to me, it’s a signature end…and it’s the part i liked most….Well done…$ß
Nah! Not feeling this at all. First the story was carelessly written. There was no connection between some of the sentences. Badly punctuated also.
As for the end, not good at all. You struggled with the whole story and the last paragraph only punctuated on that the more. Besides from your story there can be more than one reason for your character to commit suicide so which one? Consider the readers in your works.
You started the story well, like a poet but then fucked it up. You can still improve though and that is what you’re for right? Kudos!
@bublina Thanks.You understood my intent.@ ablyguy@magic and @sunshine,i am a subtle writer.You all misunderstood the end.The writer of the tale is not ashamed to lie about how it all ended.In other words mr. Bitrus did NOT commit suicide.He,like our wealthy ritual murderers,lived happily ever after.do you now see what i am?A subtle MYSTERY writer?Finally,i would like some examples of my wrong punctuations.
@yahayamadu, the main punctuation issue I found was that you didn’t have spaces after your punctuation marks. For example, instead of
“The raindrops were now driping from the leaves,the cloudy skies rumbled,and streams of water rushed down the tarred street.”
you should have
“The raindrops were now dripping from the leaves, the cloudy skies rumbled, and streams of water rushed down the tarred street.”
The ending part didn’t do it for me.
And a point of correction. Your write up was jam-packed. Always ensure to leave a space after every punctuation.
The ending part didn’t do it for me.
And a point of correction. Your write up was jam-packed. Always ensure to leave a space after every punctuation…
Correction taken.Thank you all.
My thoughts are: That last paragraph was not acceptable at all, despite your explanation. If Bitrus had a happy ending, either tell us or don’t. Your twisting the end wasn’t good enough. I liked that girl, Mercy though…
Same issue i always notice in your posts.You over do.
Let things be. Stop trying to impress.
@ kaycee Your own opinion.The leopard never changes its spots,goes the adage.