 
##

## CUFFS FOR THE PRIEST,

and other stories.

By

Brian Elvis.

SMASHWORDS EDITION.

* * * * *

PUBLISHED BY:

Brian Elvis on Smashwords.

Cuffs for the priest.

Copyright © 2013 by Brian Elvis.

This book remains the copyrighted property of the author and may not be scanned, reproduced or distributed for any commercial use without the authors consent.

*****

Table of contents.

Till death.

Full circle.

The warning.

Poachers night.

Cuffs for the Priest.

Appreciation.

## TILL DEATH.

## *****

Her hands trembled as she fumbled with the phone's keypad trying to type in her husband's name. She had just scrolling through the Hs for 'hubby' when it occurred to her that she would like to see the expression on his face when he gets the news. Evening would be as good a time as any, she decided. As she placed down the handset memories of that fateful evening came rushing back. They were so vivid, she felt like she was reliving the experience once again. She threw herself back to bed and covered her whole body including the head and yet closed her eyes tight inside there in a half hope that maybe the darkness would blur the images in her head.

It was four in the evening when her husband's white sedan pulled into the driveway. She sighed and pulled herself out of bed and headed downstairs to meet him. Brad was locking the main door behind him when he noticed his wife on the top most stair. He looked at her once and immediately knew that something was up. After twenty three years sharing his life with this woman, he came to know her just like the back of his hand. He still loved her more than anything in the world. To this day it pained him even more when his lovely wife was in any kind of distress. He felt it in the air, he knew she had something in her mind. Something was bothering her. In the morning, Nancy was glowing in an absolutely beautiful red dress as he recalled. Now she is home earlier than usual and in her pajamas, a sweater and slippers on her feet. She just stared at him with a glam face, her arms folded on one another.

"Honey are you alright?" She started towards her having put his briefcase and coat down. Nancy thought that she was not going to beat around the bush with her news, he was her husband. They had been through a lot together, and she hoped that this was just another hurdle they would jump over together.

She dropped it. "Brad I am pregnant." She murmured.

For a moment, Brad thought he heard her wrong.

"What?" he gasped.

"I have a child growing In my womb." This time clearly audible.

The news hit the old clergy man like a shock wave, and for a while, he stayed mute. A million thoughts should be going through his mind, but he wasn't even thinking. Nancy came down, and as she got close, he asked her, "Are you sure?" She did not reply; instead she reached into her pocket and handed him the home testing kit. Indeed it was positive. He did not utter a word; he just pulled her closer and held her. Nancy burst into tears as his eyes welled up. Man and wife went to the mezzanine on their knees in each others' arms. Her tears flowed freely, remembering the events that brought her to the current embrace.

About seven weeks before, one of the students came to her counseling office at the university. She was obliged to listen to him. Nancy took her job as more of a calling rather than a means to a pay cheque, and as so she would sometimes meet students past her official, working hours. That evening she was talking to Obrien, a student who had his fair share of family problems. Nancy knew very well that this was affecting his grades in school. She listened patiently, and the session was rather beneficial to both of them.

The boy left her office, but she did not want to go home early because she had a painful argument with Brad in the morning over their inability to sire children of their own. The thirty-eight year old said things about her husband's masculinity that touched a raw nerve. Brad being the ever calm gentleman just walked out on her, and she remembered how mad it made her.

She left the university at seven thirty in the evening. Brad had left in his car in the morning, and she knew they would not be commuting together that day. For once she really felt lonely and sorry about what she had said in the morning. She loved him so much, and she was now mulling over how to break the inevitable silence that was waiting for her at home. As she drove home, she replayed her apology in her mind.

The familiar din of the Nairobi traffic police siren brought her out of her musings . An instruction for her to pull over. This was supposed to be a routine police check, so she did not switch off the engine. She looked at the officer via her side mirror as he was striding over to her car. His face was silhouetted by the street light behind him, and she could only make out an eagle tattoo on the side of his palm. She thought it strange that he had no partner, but it was just a passing thought. He approached, his flash light pointed directly at her face. Instinctively; she realized that she was in deep trouble when he instructed her to switch off the engine and step out of the vehicle. Nancy then remembered the busted tail lights her husband had kept promising he would get fixed. She took a deep sigh and did as she had been told while inwardly cursing her husband all remorse for him totally erased from her mind. She attempted to reason with the police officer and explain herself out of her perceived predicament when he suddenly reached for his holster and drew his gun.

The psychology lecturer was stunned beyond her wits. "Any sound and they will be picking your brains off the cold tarmac tomorrow morning." Bellowed the man with a gun pointed to her head. Nancy felt her heart race and her brains stop. It all seemed like a bas dream, but it was so surreal there was no waking up from this one. She then realized that they were just the two of them in that street, and she knew it was not going to end well for her. "Now walk." He ordered her in a husky baritone that sent shivers down her spine. She wanted to oblige if only to save her life, but her limps just couldn't comply. His captor then grabbed her by the shoulder and led her to the park at the end of the street. As they neared its entrance, she contemplated fleeing when she felt a sharp pain just behind her right ear. She fell to the ground under the weight of the blow and tasted the sand as her body rolled under the shadows of nearby trees. He pulled her pants off and the evening wind brushed her legs as if to make her aware of it. As she lost her consciousness, she felt her nemesis force himself on her.

Brads thoughts also went back to that day that forever changed him. It was already nine pm and his wife was not home yet. He fought the urge to call her because he thought she was still mad at him because of the things he had told her in the morning. Still it was so unlike her. "She is probably at a friends place whiling the time away." He thought to himself. Immediately his phone bust to life and he reached for the remote control; to turn down the volume on the television. The call was from a pay phone. As a senior member of the church, many strangers had Brad's cell phone number, and so he did not hesitate to pick it up. "Brad. . ." the earpiece crackled. It was the unmistakable voice of his partner. Nancy sounded shaken and distraught. ". . . I am at the freedom park." She finished her sentence. He did not need any more prompting. She was not okay, that he knew just how bad, was a still a mystery. He rushed to the garage his mind a raging sea of thoughts and questions.

The man of God probably broke every traffic rule in the book that night, but get to the park fast he sure did. Nancy was seated at the foot of the only pay phone there. Her legs were crossed like a meditating monk. She was disheveled, and he noticed that his wife had been crying her tear glands dry. Nancy did not want to look at him; she was ashamed; perhaps angry at herself and a little at him. He, on the other hand, had no idea what could have made his wife pig herself out that much. She was a complete mess. All Nancy wanted was to be taken home. Brad carried her to the car, and they drove home in what was the most frustrating time of his life. Any question he asked was met with deathly silence and he just did not know what to think. Clearly she was not in any mood to talk and he just kept on driving. The vehicle backed up into the garage, and Nancy could not wait to get out. She did not want to be within touching distance of any man at that moment. Brad was going to switch off the engine when his lady yanked the door open and ran straight to the bathroom. He did not know what to make of his wife's demeanor. His hazel eyes sank even deeper behind his brows as he helplessly watched the love of his life disappear behind the main door. He switched off the headlights too and slowly followed her into the house. He heard the shower and knew where she was. He got there pulled the blinders back and witnessed an absolutely pitiful site. She was on the floor fully clothed as the water drenched her. The usually sparkling clean, white floor tiles were now murky with mud. However, it was the profuse crying that concerned Brad. He just followed his instincts and got in to hold her. He felt the water in his socks and in his shoes, but he did not care an iota about it. He held her just as he is holding her now. That was what he promised her. To be there for her for better or for worse, until death.

"He. .. he . . .he raped me!" Brad heard his wife force out the word in between sobs. He knew he heard her right. Shocked, his eyes widened and he impulsively pulled himself back to look at her. The area behind her left ear was red and sore. Brad felt a crazed anger fill up his heart. He was angry at himself; he should have picked her up like he always did. He felt angry at God for failing to protect his love the one evening he did not live up to his promise, for better or for worse. He felt extremely mad at however had the mind to commit in an act so heinous. He felt robbed and weak. Despair showed in his face, and he could not bear to look at his wife. Brad had been through many lows in his life, but this was surely the rock bottom. He immediately turned off the shower. He felt that justice for them was of utmost importance at that moment. He pulled her out of the shower, if only he could save the tiniest bit of evidence. He immediately changed her into dry clothing and drove her to the hospital having already alerted the police.

At the hospital, the nurses took Nancy in while he had to wait at the visitors lounge. He was livid, contemplating and planning how he would get back at however raped his wife. He did not care much about the forgiveness he had preached all his life. Nothing else mattered now. He was emasculated and defiled too. He came back from his world of rage when a woman tapped him on the shoulder. She identified herself as doctor Cho. She was the doctor attending to Nancy. Cho assured him that Nancy would be okay and that they were lucky enough to collect traces of semen and hair samples around her pelvis area. Police arrived just as the two were conversing. An inspector Rodriguez Coelho, and his colleague sergeant Hannah Robinson. They would take up the case, and it seemed they already had a suspect in mind. They briefly questioned the two and were later led to Nancy's room. After around half an hour, as Brad recalled, they came out and left with the samples. The couple was registered on a counseling program and later allowed to leave.

They had barely gotten home when Rodriguez called them for an identification parade. Nancy felt nervous; the thought of having to face her aggressor again, had her in naughts. Brad saw a chance of redemption. He immediately turned and sped towards Rutenberg police station.

At the station Nancy sat behind a one way vision window, as three men walked into the room she was looking into. She tried very hard to remember his countenance, even one feature but she could not. She sighed and looked at Hannah and shook her head. She did not prod her any further; she had investigated far too many such cases to know better. She gestured at the sentinel to let the men out. It was as they were leaving that Nancy caught it by her peripheral. It was the eagle tattoo on the last man's left palm. She immediately jumped on her feet and pointed at him repeatedly. Hannah asked her if she was sure and she replied in the affirmative. He was immediately cuffed and led away. It turned out he was one of them, in the department. Inspector Rodriguez and Sergeant Hannah had been secretly making up a case against him. Nancy was his eighth victim over a period of thirteen months. All the other seven women had been raped in a similar fashion, but they quite could never identify him. All showered immediately hence erasing all incriminating evidence. Kevin Hart was his name as Hannah would later come to tell them. Her case was a "slam dunk" in police jargon. Someone had reported an abandoned squad car on a lonely street. The same one registered to traffic commandant Hart. The DNA samples matched his, making a compelling case against him. The case is still in court but it is almost a foregone conclusion that the police will get a conviction.

Brad realized he was holding his wife a little too tight, maybe because of the anger towards Kevin or the sorrow that was all coming back to him. He desperately wanted to move on, but now his wife was carrying the baby of the one man he detested the most. He let go of the embrace and held her teary face in his cusped palms. They both knew what the other was thinking. One glance at her eyes and he knew she desperately wanted to keep the baby. He too longed for a child, but never had he thought that God would work this way. His emotions were mixed, but he excellently hid them from his wife. Brad decided he was going to stand by her and support her like always. It was the least he could do. It was still not lost on him when Nancy decided to stay married to him when their doctor told them that he was impotent. Over two decades down the line, she had not as much as suggest an adoption or any other way around the problem. On that floor, they made joy come back to their house. Joy born out of so much pain. A wry smiled etched on Nancy's face, "honey, let its sex surprise us." And she looked at him pleadingly with the most beautiful brown eyes he had ever seen. Brad just nodded, overcome by emotions and he let a tear drop roll down his cheek. He held her once again as their knees gave in and they went to the floor still in each others' embrace. A deep, peaceful silence ensued the peace both hard sort for over the past seven weeks.

## FULL CIRCLE.

I lay on the cold steel stretcher as the ambulance sped towards the city. My consciousness kept coming fleetingly, and I would relapse into a dark abyss. In there I felt lonely just like most of my life had been. For the umpteenth time, I came forth, and my hazy vision could only make up a desperate nurse increase the charge on the defibrillator which he would press on my chest jerking up my torso. Interestingly I was not much concerned about it. I reckoned that perhaps the pain was numbed by the extreme focus I had on the second nurse. She was on the van's phone with someone I made out to be my mother. She sounded frantic, and for a moment, I was surprised that she was the least bit concerned after all the pain and shame my existence had brought upon her. Mum was a dedicated woman of the church. Ever since my father walked out on us, she lived her life for God. It always bothered me why God never rewarded her efforts; little did I know that God works in ways the spiritually blind can not see. I refused to follow her ways. In my naive anger, I felt that God was thankless and irrational in how he handled people. Those who showed scant regard for him got along just well while my mother and I languished in poverty. For all his power and majesty, he could not do something as simple as keep daddy home. That is all I ever asked of him, and he never answered. Sundays were always heralded by arguments between my mother and I. Because church was a pariah zone for me, not once did I ever set foot there. This caused my mother great embarrassment among other women. I remember a time she was once ousted from a church committee for failing to lead her family in the "path of light". Nevertheless it did not concern me.

I was always up to mischief and constantly in trouble. My demeanor earned my mother countless sermons to the elders and sometimes to the chief. Her health started deteriorating due to the stress I caused her. I was too mired in my own world to notice that, and it had to take my uncles intervention to save her from her misery. He sent me to a boarding school, and I had to spend most of my holidays at his place. Thanks to his tough love I managed to get to college. On my death bed, I now get the gravity of the folly of my ways. I know why mama never touched anything I bought her. She knew it was the proceeds of all the evil I was up to in the city. Karma has caught up with me, and I am dying before her. I am leaving her in the very shack I grew up in because she refused to move into the house I bought her. Maybe I should have had the fear of God. I would be wiser, perhaps happier. Maybe I should have respected my parent, I would have lived longer. I am rueful as the only bible verse I know keeps repeating in my mind. My whole life was always planned around me regardless of who else suffered in my endeavors.

In the ambulance, I could not feel any part of my body except the warmth of my blood oozing from my left thigh on to the cold stretcher and dousing my back for the vehicle was racing downhill. From afar, I could hear the din of the ambulance's siren as it cut through the evening atmosphere. As I lay there, I felt sorry for the two nurses tirelessly trying to keep me alive because I knew my time here was over. This was partly because; I did not want to live my life anymore. I had done enough damage down here. The lies, greed, deceit, backstabbing and corruption had made me weary. I just did not realize it up until this moment. And partly because I felt I deserved to be in my current situation, I always had it coming. As I prayed for the creator to look not upon my sins, my whole life proverbially flashed before me. My mind raced to my furthest memory as a kid. Mama had sent me to the pump station for the kerosene we would use that night. We lit our home using kerosene tin lamps. For me; it was normal, and I was totally oblivious of our poverty. That evening, however, I was awoken to the concept of poverty and class differences.

Rushing back home with the much needed kerosene; I heard the sound of a siren. This startled me for it was the first time. It was very similar to the sound that filled the air around me presently, and now I realize just how far I have come. I watched in awe as the lights atop the van lit my face when the ambulance raced by. So fascinating was the site; that it did not occur to me that probably somebody was breathing their last inside there. I guess I have always been attracted to the bright lights and shiny things since then. Perhaps my advancing age made me less aware of it. It is the main reason I bought that BMW. It had been delivered straight from the showroom only ten days earlier. A machine so magnificent to behold filled with all sorts of lights. Not for once had I imagined that a vehicle so sleek and perfect in design could end up so mangled in the ditch that I found myself in that night. It actually is true that one for the road is a tad bit too much. I did not notice the young couple crossing the road until it was too late to slow down. It was either them or me, and I just could never live with myself if I ran them over. I opted for the ditch.

So vivid are the memories of the day I chose my path in life. I recall as I handed over the kerosene to my mother, I described to her the amazing automobile I had seen on my way back. "My son that was an ambulance, only rich people can afford to be carried in one. If you fall sick here, we will just have to carry you on foot to the health center." She retorted. "But if you work hard in school my son, you can free yourself from this life." That evening I decided that I am going to be rich and successful whatever it took me. Now I regret living life in a no holds barred manner. I have been so naive about how life really worked, and I had gone too far down the wrong path to turn back now. I had wronged more people than I cared to remember, but most importantly I had wronged my mum with everything I did since that day. I dreamed of the good life, the big houses, the fast cars, the mind boggling medical covers and pretty much everything material. Indeed I worked my way up the social ladder, and as I got older and more "enlightened" I got even more incentives to be the big shark in the sea. I pushed my way through life. In school, I would put in the hours, and when I felt it was not enough I cheated and copied. I wanted that college scholarship so much, I actually lied in the application form that I was a total orphan. At work I wanted that project fund so much, I stole a colleague's idea. In business I wanted those tenders so bad; I paid hefty bribes for years. I wanted the money so bad I actually worshipped it. I liked the women so much I never settled down. In this ambulance, I realize I actually got my wish. I am in the very ride that set me on my path. It was all an empty pursuit. Deep inside my single thought is that maybe a kid whose life is just starting has seen "my" ambulance rush past him or her. If "my lights" awe them, oh God; please let it be in the right direction. I know I will not make it past today. My last act on earth is to be rushed to a hospital, and I hope someone gets inspired just as I was. Only that it be to a good end. It will be the only meaningful thing I have done all my life.

## THE WARNING.

Chelsea loved it when her grandfather tucked her in bed. She was convinced that he was the best story teller, and she always looked forward to bed time whenever grandpa Joe came visiting during fall. Most of his tales were actual life experiences he lived through or had heard unlike her dad who read from a book; often breaking the prose. One October night Joe followed his granddaughter to her bedroom as he customarily did. Soon as she was safely tucked in he asked her, "What kind of story do you want to listen to tonight now that Brad is fast asleep?" "I do not know, grandpa, tell me anything nice." She implored him. "Okay then dear." The old man answered. "Tthis actually happened when I was a young boy growing up in Tottenham South of Chingford. There lived a lady in our neighborhood, a lone child of an aristocratic steel industrialist. No one knew much about her because she was very reclusive and spent all her time in the house. Her name was Ann Sexton. She lived with a young African immigrant servant whom she would send on supply errands. We called him Hausa, and he was pretty much the only soul she ever talked to. Hausa himself was an enigma, some thought he was mute while others swore that they had heard his voice sometime or another, for he only spoke when it was necessary. His handshake was firm and slightly painful as his seemingly dead eyes stared right into ones soul. Whenever Ann sent him to pick up something or buy anything he went to specific shops and rarely talked to the attendants. Instead, he just pointed at whatever it is he needed. After his errands, he would hurry straight back home never changing his route. A man of habit and strict routine, it was easy to predict what he would be up to the next week. His countenance was dark and stern. His hulking body resembled a chiseled out sculpture an illusion further enhanced by his labored walking manner.

If Hausa were too much, then the site of Ann Sexton would make a coward flee. 'Even the brave felt the hairs on the back of their neck stand up whenever one got up-close' as the erstwhile Mayor of London once put it, after a brief visit to her house. Nancy Sexton Rothschild was a middle aged woman, but her skin was so rough, scaly and pale it was disturbing to behold. Long brown nails projected from the tip of her fingers and bent over downwards in a complete circle to touch her wrist. She could not grasp items with her palms. Those who had seen it said her hair was were actually short grey tufts that seemed to have a life of their own. No one dared look at her in the eyes for rumors had it those who did lost their site within months. I think she was heathen or mystic. I always saw her from a far in a dark cloak the few times she ever stepped out. She never ventured a few yards from the house as far as I could remember. Her lawn was never mowed rodents and serpents moved freely around the house. All the land around her home was worthless for no one would buy it nor settle there for free. Those who did out of ignorance or sheer bravado would soon move out complaining the area was haunted. 'I felt things; I heard things, but my eyes could not behold what my other senses were picking.' A local newspaper quoted one lady saying as she moved out of an adjacent house she had barely spent a week in. This prompted the mayor and the council men to pay her a visit in a political move aimed at showing leadership and servitude to the people of London. They proceeded to the pariah house in a brave attempt to convince or even force her to leave.

When they arrived, Hausa was on hand to open the wooden gate for them. One tagged along with a dog. The enormous canine started barking incessantly at the site of Hausa though he seemed the least bit concerned. The obviously agitated dog somehow wringed itself free of its leash, and raced towards Hausa. The dark, tall and bald Hausa did not move an inch. He stared down the dog and for no explainable reason the loud barks turned into whimpers as the dog scampered into the tall compound grass never to be seen again. On witnessing that, its handler turned back at the gate. The other three soldiered on into the house in total silence. The front door was rickety, yet it somehow held. They were now entering the oldest structure in all of London with completely no idea of what to expect. The mayor was first in line and he peeped in nervously before entering. Hausa passed them from behind and proceeded to notify the lady of the house who was in a different room that the mayor had arrived. It was 10:00 AM yet the house was so dark, and they could not make out their surroundings. A strong musky smell filled their nostrils as their lungs rejected what they were inhaling, prompting ceaseless coughs.

The stooped silhouette of Anna appeared through the door Hausa had disappeared into. On one hand, she carried a tin lamp while the other held a walking stick that looked more like a broom stick. Behind her a dozen or so cats followed, all of them menacingly big. She moved ever so slowly towards them, and the cats followed. Anna could tell that her guests were uneasy, and she seized the moment. 'I know what you lads want, and that is not going to happen if I am s still alive. My father bought this land from the council, and I have the papers to prove it. He was exempted from all rates applicable for 99 years because of his exemplary service to this city. As far as I am concerned 99 years are not over yet. I am sure you can find the certificate of exemption in your files, or you could take a look at the original copy I have here.' They were now totally disarmed and at a loss for words as she engaged them in a monologue, her voice shriek yet firm and convicted. She waved her index finger and the room fell into a deeper darkness. They could not see her anymore but just the outline of her form and a pair of eyes that seemed luminous. Suddenly the room lit up so brightly it momentarily rendered them blind, yet there was no discernible source of light. Little goblins scampered from site like roaches. They could not believe what they were seeing, the room, was spooky in every sense of the word. Human hair hung from every inch of the ceiling while strange artifacts hung on the very dirty walls. A thick yellow liquid oozed from holes in the walls, and it was like the wall itself was excreting yet strangely enough the floor was not touched by any of that matter. The men were scared beyond their wits, and they remained motionless. 'Unless you gentlemen have anything else Hausa will show you the way out.' They could not have been more pleased to hear those words. Ann turned towards where she came from and as if on cue Hausa appeared. All the cats turned in unison with her and followed the creepy woman back to the inner rooms. They all rushed out of there and, no government representative has ever gone back to that house to this date. Normal civilians also avoided her environs like the plague. Over years that part of London has been unattended, oaks have grown blocking the building from visibility.

People who were older than me told tales of how she used to be the fairest of maidens in all of England." The daughter of a knighted steel industrialist called Sir Alex Rothschild. She was the aristocrat's lone daughter, and he surely raised her like one. When Sir Alex passed away, Ann liquidated all his businesses for she could not run such a complex empire and put the proceeds in a fund. All the workers left, but for Hausa, his father's freed boy slave. Tales have it that a man named Terry Huddlestone moved to Tottenham a few years after Sir Alex's demise. A guy termed as 'disturbingly' handsome, tall in stature, easy going and absolutely charming in his ways. To the untrained eye a perfect gentleman. He opened a lumber workshop in Northern Tottenham close to where Miss Ann had retired to a life of seclusion. She would go to his post to acquire new items or invite him over to install new items like drawers and shelves. Hausa had his reservations about the man everyone loved, but he kept it to himself. Meanwhile, Terry and Ann grew fond of each other; their relationship blossomed so fast in no time they were an inseparable couple. Their relationship was so public they were known as 'The Tenn'. It was derived from their names, to symbolize the perfectness of the number ten. Secretly people hoped they would marry if only to get Miss Sexton out of her lonely lifestyle. However, Terry never committed to her, and he would joke and laugh about it with other men at the bars. He controlled her by dangling the wedding ring just out of her reach. One Halloween night Terry staggered home, where he had been housed by Ann. On his way, he bragged in song to anyone who cared to listen how a lowly newbie carpenter managed to seduce and land the most sort after lady in London. 'Terry the conqueror' he would call himself, 'greater than the noblest of the English men.' He disgusted all and sundry by his of self grandeur, Ann on her part was utterly riled when she heard him walk up the alley to the house. One witness said that he saw Ann walk out of the house and approached the drunken man. Her nails grew into about a meter long claws and she sunk them into the terrified Terry's collar bone. Of course, no one believed him, but Terry has never been seen since then."

Chelsea jumped out of bed, it was evening already, and she thought that she must have slept the whole day. She could not clearly remember how Grandpa Joe's story ended. Her younger brother Bradley bust into her room clad like the headless horseman, a plastic pumpkin mask covering his head. "Hey sister it is Halloween lets go trick or treating." He beseeched her. Chelsea saw how much her brother was excited about his first real Halloween experience and agreed to take him along. "Okay young man tonight we are going tricking or treating." Chelsea assured the excited lad. She took a quick shower, and they both headed out. As they walked to the first house, Brad noticed a strange cat. It was unusually big and certainly not one of the neighborhood cats as he reckoned. Chelsea also noticed the feline on realizing that her kid brother was so fixated on it. It stared at Bradley directly in the eyes for a few moments and abruptly turned and walked towards a nearby thicket. Like a hypnotized person, the boy dropped his basket and followed the animal. Chelsea tried to call him back, but he kept on going. She began to freak out and ordered him back in desperation to no avail, he was deaf to her. She rushed to grab his as the hood of his jacket disappeared behind the thicket. She tripped over the pavement as her hand reached out and fell towards the bush. She was, however, surprised by how soft her landing from the fall was as she opened her eyes to find herself in an entirely new world

"That bush must have been a passage way of sorts". She thought to herself. The whole area way she laid was covered in about a meter tall grass. They sky looked brown, and the horizon was dark and misty. Chelsea scanned the area for her little brother, but he was nowhere to be seen. Bradley had vanished into thin air. She got up to her feet, now totally distraught and desperately shouting her brother's name. She turned and noticed a wooden gate behind her that was barely holding on it hinges that opened to an unkempt pathway leading to a very old house. The gate was not locked, and so Chelsea slowly opened it. She then noticed Bradley's jacket on the grass a yard into the compound. Panicking, the poor girl, immediately rushed to pick it fearing for the worst. She bent down and grabbed the jacket revealing the mystic cat right underneath. Chelsea fell back and tried to crawl away. She watched in horror as the Cat morphed into a steely black bald man. His eyes, however, were still cat like, a window to a very cold soul filled with darkness. He was heavily built and clad in what looked like reed strands that ran from his torso to the toes of his feet. He had no footwear and snakes coiled around the ground that he stood on. A sense of Déjà vu came over her. "Are you Hausa?" she stammered.

The man did not utter a single word, but instead motioned her to go into the house. Immediately she felt an unexplained force lift her from the ground, and she levitated to the house the strange man was pointing at. Soon she found herself in what she made out to be the living room. It was dark inside, but she could make out the form of a table and some chairs. The air was musky, and she felt a deep urge to cough her lungs out, but all she wanted was to remain as silent as she could be at the moment. Fingers snapped on the far left side of the room, and it lit up so brightly she was momentarily blinded. There sat an old lanky woman in a black cloak and a long, pointed hat atop her head. Innumerable cats surrounded her. The site of the old geezer was intimidating to behold. Her eyes were blood short. The veins looked like small millipedes doing rounds on the white of her eyes.. Whenever she blinked; they made a popping sound that totally freaked out the poor lass. The skin on her fingers was perched and scaly, and her cartilage was more of talons rather than nails. All she wanted to do was to make a dash for it but her legs were so weak "Do not worry my child." A squeaky voice came from her mono toothed mouth. "I brought you here to set the record straight. Yeah I know what you are thinking, I am Ann Sexton Rothschilid. I had to punish Terry Huddlestone because he was only after my fund. None of all those people knew that. No one slanders my name like that and goes unpunished." Her voice grew angrier. "But my heart truly loved him". She pointed to a door on her left side and it opened by itself revealing a bedroom of sorts. On the bed lay a headless skeleton on one half of the bed. "See, I deeply loved him, eighty seven years later I still do." She then turned towards Chelsea and pointed behind her. There was a partially open drawer, inside it there was a mangled skull.. "That is Terry's" She pointed out nonchalantly. Her walking stick extended itself from where she stood, past Chelsea and fully opened the drawer. The image was terribly affrighting. "That is what is going to happen to your brother if he does not stop his tricking people for gifts today or in the future." Chelsea screamed her lungs dry, and she woke up to find herself in her grandfather's embrace. Do not worry my dear; it was just a terrible dream, nothing real, just a dream. Grandpa and Jesus are here to guard you. She held him all the while sobbing uncontrollably. "I was in the middle of my story when I noticed you were talking in your sleep. You said, okay young man today we are going tricking or treating." Anyway you are going to be just fine.

**********

POACHER'S NIGHT

Every night I said The Lord's prayer before I went to sleep. I never quite got used to it, had to remind myself to do it all the time. Whether it was in the bush, a hotel or any of my homes, I did it without fail. It kept me sane in all this madness, I doubt God cared to listen though, but I prayed anyway.

My mother always took me to church, I learned a lot about God and His son. I liked his son a lot. At least the son felt what it is like to be in this body and exist in this trouble sink. Some things did not make much sense to me but I obeyed for mama's sake.

She wanted me to be a good boy, grow up to be a descent gentleman. In all fairness, I gave it my best shot. I tried so hard to be the perfect poster boy. I went to church twice a week, got accepted into the alter service. Scored straight As, enlisted as a reservist and graduated top of my class. I even joined a college and got a job, a decent salary and a wife. May mama's soul rest in peace, she knows I tried.

For twenty four years my spirit battled my will. The real Lenno versus the fake Lenno curved out by everyone's expectations. I hated myself; I hated society but never my mother. Or maybe I hated her too. I had suppressed so many feelings for so long I had grown numb to many. All I knew is that I was two men in one body. One was wild and free, the other was guarded and cautious. The wild Lenno lost so many battles in the past but he always spoiled for a fight. The fight to take over my soul.

I guess that is how I became so out of touch. I have practically stood up my wife for a dinner date to go be with murderers. I doubt my old lady would be so pleased.

"Why are you so pensive?" That ever happy voice jolted me back to the chopper." Was just thinking about my mum Ricky" I answered as I slouched back on the bench. "Seems Lenno wants to suckle some more, guys."The funny man did what he did best. Just like all the previous instances he surely did not disappoint as he stuck his thumb in his mouth and made a baby face. The entire group burst out in laughter. We all knew we needed it and that is perhaps one of the main reasons everyone always wanted him to come along in these night missions.

The speaker a top suddenly crackled to life. "Boys, 30 seconds from ground zero, count down to ETA begins. Everyone get ready for the drop ". Khamali's all too familiar voice instructed in a heavy Arab accent. He always flew us whenever the boss needed us to go. A fine man, very dependable. He knew and understood all the ranges and parks in all the countries in the entire south-eastern block. The rivers, the distribution of fauna, security protocols and pretty much everything one would need to know in this business, however the most important was his knowledge of open areas the rangers did not have enough resources to patrol at such times. This single thing ensured he got fatter cheques than his peers in the airlines and army. I guess that was the reason we were flying at low altitude in total darkness. I put on my night vision goggles and prepared to jump out of an airplane into the dense forest with a bunch of men who would not hesitate to shoot me down if one thing went slightly wrong. It is greed, such a strong driver, only love and fear could conquer it.

I grabbed my new suppressed and scoped Noveske, strapped a honey badger on my vest just in case things got nasty, and hid a desert eagle in my boots. You never know when double crossers will decide to cash in. My webbing and medivac intact, I strapped the chute together with the other three and jumped towards our price.

In Meribah Park there were around 200 elephants and 90 rhinoceros carrying million dollar tasks and horns about. We were in on a 19 billion dollar business and I was not late in grabbing a piece of it. If that vet had properly tagged the rhinos in the morning check up, then I was in for a $190000 pay day. That translates to slightly over 7.7 million for a one hour operation.

Thanks to the Vietnamese, my money was growing like mould on bread. I never would have made this much running guns for those stupid Jihadists and most definitely not as an engineer in the service. Nice change of "careers" . For some reason I do not care to know why the pea-eyed people from the far east were willing to pay more than the price of Gold for the same weight in elephant ivory and twice as much for an ounce of rhino horn. With that much money, there was no way I was going to leave all this milk and honey to some two bit AK 47 carrying poachers.

They would instead be the perfect decoys for the fodder hungry media when we set up a full operation. I am going to take over the entire demand chain. Besides running guns and trafficking cocaine wasn't that much fun any more. The senior administrators are cheaper in this business, the logistics simpler and turfs are less crowded.

This was the real me. Nothing felt better than making millions when everyone else was asleep and blissfully ignorant of the impending total wipe out of national treasures. I did not care, money tasted better than loyalty. My mother must be disappointed but I was in too deep. Only death could suck me out of this damned miasma. I am a born criminal.

As soon as we touched the ground, our trackers picked up signals from the chips shot into the Elephants earlier in the morning. They were exactly where Khamali guessed they would be, all gathered for the night. The Rhino tags bleeped on our screens far more separated because they were loners but that would not deter me. I am the real King of the jungle.

The moon was casting our shadows so far ahead of us. That would warn anyone else of our approach and expose us to an ambush. I hence ordered the men to crouch the whole two kilometers to where our nearest targets were. This was a business and a war at the same time. The Shabab had gotten in after their revenue streams had been dismantled by the army. They were a bunch of wimps and no match for my fire power but you do not want to invite the rangers to the date when all you want is a quicky. In a gun fight, three camps is freaking rally.

Today would be like last week, and the next like this week only that I will be far richer and way more connected. I like to refer to myself as a 'hands-on grab-the-rhino-by-its-horns' kind of leader. I liked the money and the power but nothing made me more alive than the possibility of an all out gun fight and constantly outwitting the guards and rangers. Once again mama I'm very sorry because all I want is to be more like me and less like everyone else. Deep within me I know my fate will catch up but let me enjoy while it still lasts mama.

We soon made visual, there were eight of them herded together grazing in the cool of the night to avoid the morning heat. "Bingo !" Ricky whispered direct into my ears, a wry smile etched in his face. He never was serious about anything but I liked him. He was smarter than all of us and thanks to his genius we have cheated death several times before. "Boss, do you know one of those fetches no less than $60000?"He queried rhetorically the laser from his gun pointing to one of the elephant tasks. I tried not to think too much about it, I'd rather get the job done first. Later I will think about where to get the new BMW I had promised my wife. She incessantly kept on complaining that the range rover made her look fat.

The other two men opened their bags to prepare the knives we would need to split open the elephant head in order to extract the tusks. Meanwhile Ricky took aim of the ten tonne beast. "Wait a minute! "I shouted to him. A little startled he quickly scoped all the nearby bushes and then turned to me. "What the fuck is it?" "How is Konakova?" I asked a giggle betraying the forced look of concern on my face. "Seriously now?" Ricky rolled back his eyes in utter disapproval of my distraction. "Well if you must know, I'm done with Ukranian girls. When this cheque drops I'm going down to Sambaland. Brasilia!" He exclaimed in utter excitement. His eyes just lit up at the thought and he just couldn't resist grabbing me by my shoulders as he often did.

He again got a hold of his MP7 and steadied himself so he could look through the scope. The silence of the night was abruptly cut short when gun shots rent the air. Almost by reflex I jumped towards Rick shouting at him to duck while making for his head. I was too late, he turned to me, exposing a bloodied chest and his smile still on his face,. Now it looked stupid and I hated it. "Too late bro" He said with that his gun dropped from his hand and blood started flowing out of the corner of his mouth. As life slowly departed his body, anger welled up in me so much I did mot realize there were more incoming shots. All I could think of was "why did you not put on your vest you fool?"

He slouched on me and went. Around me the other two men also lay dead. I suddenly felt a sharp blow right on my sternum and I knew it was lead. It knocked me down and my world went dark.

A tiny sliver of light formed in the darkness and slowly grew into a blurry white. An old fan was spinning almost too slow for any effect above me and a sharp pain registered on the side of my chest.

"He has come forth!"

A man bellowed, I could not make out his face, but the rifle he was holding and the crown bearing berretta on his head were unmisable even in a daze. I tried to turn but my left arm was cuffed to the bed.

*********

*********

CUFFS FOR THE PRIEST.

Chapter 1.

". . . The devil pursues and is certain to crush me to the ground. I have made haste to come to you who is mighty. I desperately need a place of refuge. Please be my fort my lord, for my spirit has grown weak within me and I have no other place to hide. My father in heaven, I spread out my hands to you humbly asking that you may listen to your servant's prayer and answer me. Show me your face and let the morning bring me word of your unfailing faithfulness. I trust you father, guide my ways and be a lamp unto my path like you have decreed in your holly word. Teach me always to do your will so that I may not stray from the narrow path for I bear your name. Amen." Bishop Ashphenaz concluded his prayer; a prayer that gave him much sense of relief. The middle aged man of the cloth felt an unexplained heaviness in his heart the whole morning, and he knew that he needed to go down on his knees.

He rose from his position of supplication and hoisted himself to the leather chair that crowned the awesome elegance of his chambers. The furnishing was minimal but absolutely tasteful. In front of him stood a finely finished oak table with leather tapestry on its sides. It was very much the center piece of the room, around its legs there spread the finest Persian carpet that partly hid the white and grey checkered mezzanine. A stunning mural portraying the majestic transfiguration hung on the left wall. The right wall was made entirely of steel and glass. It let in the morning sun's rays, which kissed the exquisite art work, so sensually. Perfectly curved lamp stands stood on either side of the oak creating a sense of balance and stability. A visitor could hardly miss the beautiful flowers that seemed to grow gracefully out of their white pots. The sheep had surely done their part in making Asphenaz comfortable in his service, but the good man of God was oblivious of the splendor of his surroundings. Not because of familiarity but because his mind was pre occupied. He had an ominous feeling, but he quite could not place his fingers on what was troubling him.

Over the days past, he prayed countless prayers all of which lucked specificity yet he knew something nefarious was up. His mind wondered, and he thought about life itself. Of how many apply their minds to study without spiritual insight, yet there really is nothing new. Answers only lead to more puzzling questions; it's like being punished for daring to ask in the first place, for being curious. He wondered what happened before the beginning of time for time itself had to start from some point. The bishop hated time itself, for it constricted him. He wanted to move at his own pace because of time, it made everyone rush and to what end? Time made the days of our lives few, yet all he wanted was to milk out every moment he drew breath. He wanted to experience life and not just rush by the limited days he had been allotted. He now figured it, or at least he thought so. The biggest problem in the world is time itself. Time made the works of human hands meaningless for even his wisdom and all he has ever worked for will soon be rendered meaningless.

Asphenaz leaned back on his chair's headset and thought about how wise people handle their affairs with much success, but his heart despaired at the thought of them having to leave all of their rewards to other people. This is all because of time. Like a conveyor belt, it forces forward motion while there is so much to enjoy in a moment. He remembered the moment he had after his prayer. The relief that was so fleeting and nostalgia overcame him. He so desperately wanted to go back to that moment and just stick there, but time pushed him onwards to the raging sea of thoughts that he must live through. H e dared not think that his maker was imperfect in any way, but he reckoned that time was a serious misfortune. A misfortune that no one really knows about and no one cares to understand, for it is so ubiquitous man has taught himself to ignore the fact. The creator is perfect in all his ways, and he created time for reasons man will never fathom.

In his eyes, earthlings do get much out of all their endeavors, the constant striving with which we all labour. For, in all of man's days, his work is filled with grief and pain. Sleep does not help much in getting away from it for the mind does not rest even then. In time, the wise man and vagabond are all made the same for there will be days that no one will remember either. So it is better to live in the moment, celebrate all the good things we see regardless of their significance. It is better to eat, rejoice and make merry whenever one can, lest we risk running around the globe in folly. "But why don't many realize that they are just chasing after the wind?" The man of the cloth heard his conscience prod him. It would be better if we just settled for the little things for happiness is right under our noses, yet everyone is caught up in a futile exercise of looking for happiness from the gods of love, the gods of pleasure, the god that is money and power. In my years, I have seen people that have prostituted themselves to money, yet others are joined to it in matrimony and never have enough. The more possessions people accumulate the more hangers on and boot leakers they attract. Like wolves in sheep skin, they would not hesitate to take their masters down. Time that is the revealer of all always plays up the same story over and over again throughout the generations as the rich discover that they actually are poor that material things are only good for feasting the eyes.

While still deep in thought, the bishop was startled by the opening of the gargantuan main doors that made way to the sanctuary. Their sheer size ensured anyone opening them could be heard all the way back in the church offices and indeed the Bishop's chambers. For a moment, he was surprised. It was unusual for anyone other than staff to come to church midweek, especially on a cold Tuesday morning. This was despite the fact that the house of God was smirk in the middle of the city that was home to more than eleven million and a center for thousands of multinationals and institutions. They had all forgotten where they came from and who holds the very lives that they treasure so much. Movie theatres got more patrons than the holy alters in the city. If a young person missed a dance concert for an hour in the presence of he who fashioned everything, he is frowned upon and considered 'out of touch'. Never the less Ashphenaz rose from the comfort of his chair and headed for the sanctuary, partly glad that anyone would come to church at such a time but mainly because he was dying of curiosity. Immediately he stepped out of his office, he heard cheerful laughter from where he was going. This surprised him the more. "Young people?" he asked himself. They did not sound that many, but his face was now full of glee. Age had surely taken its toll on him, but he could not resist the urge to run across the cabro pavement that snaked to the church hall. He yanked open the back door that led to the alter and tried as much as he could to hide his excitement as he slowly made his way to its center. He noticed two young men at the other end of the isle. They seemed to be in their own world, extremely overjoyed just to be in each other's company.

Ashphenaz did not know what to make of the pair that was in a half embrace. He grew a bit apprehensive when he realized that they were holding hands as they approached him. The lines of laughter that were etched on the sides of his eyes promptly disappeared and he felt his throat dry up. They got to him, and he could now properly see them. The guy to his left was heavily built, donning a black sleeveless t shirt, brown and white checkered shorts and a pair of white sneakers. Upon his chin; grew one of the most conspicuous beards he had ever seen not to mention the red spiked mo-hawk that lined the center of a cleanly shaven head. For a moment, the priest's gaze was fixed on him, and there was an awkward silence. His friend accidentally dropped his bag, a strangely small bag pink in color and hooked to an extraordinarily long strap. The bishop wondered what he could possibly carry in such a tiny bag and why he felt it had to have a strap that long. As he bent over to pick it up, Ashphenaz noticed just how tight his pants were. He always saw such dressing on the streets, but he never thought anybody would be so mindless to come to church dressed so. His shirt was just as tight and its design exposed most of his chest. "Why in the world would such a skinny guy want to show off his chest, colour his nails and walk around in such high heel shoes?" He wondered he was not sure what to make of it.

Bishop Ashphenaz fished out his glasses from his breast pocket and went down the podium one stair while deftly putting them on with one hand. He posed between the stairs and pocketed, "how can I help you my sons?" He queried the pair his voice loud as ever, due to years spent behind the Lords pulpit. The visitors were rather surprised at how the old man made an offer sound like a command. For a moment silence reigned, but the priest did not drop his gaze. "My name is Abner Atkinson, and he Is Eliab Cleverly. We would like to get married." The red head finally found his cahonas and went straight for the jugular, not beating about the bush. Eliab clutched his man bag and looked down as though he was embarrassed. Ashphenaz immediately realized that he had a really sticky situation in his hands, for he made out Abner as a straight forward and feisty character in how he keenly studied his countenance searching for any sign of rejection. He knew very well that the world had lost its way on many matters; many things that were taboo when he was a deacon are now accepted or even go unnoticed in the church. As much as many erstwhile unacceptable practices are now prevalent he had never had to directly handle such a socially delicate issue.

He knew that there was no way he would ever marry them, that would go against every word he had ever preached, against his deepest convictions and most importantly against the will of he whom he had served his entire life. However, the good bishop was wise enough not to answer them, instead he begun to pray in his heart for guidance. Sending them away would only harden their will to continue in their ways if they felt victimized. In his moment of prayer, he did not judge them for he knew that they had been misled by popular culture into believing that they were born gay and that they could actually solemnize their union. In his prayer, he asked God to open their eyes so that they would realize the folly of their ways, that homosexuality is actually natured and that they could not possibly be in love. Their attraction to one another was only fuelled by a need for acceptance. He hoped his intercession would last longer but sooner or later he had to come back and face the elephant in the room.

Eliab now spoke, "Sir we really are in a hurry here, are you gonna bless us or not?" His voice high pitched and almost irritating. Ashphenaz turned to him and for the first time got a clear look at his face. It looked like baked cake, thanks to the thick layer of make up upon it. On his eyelids, jutted out the most outrageous eyelashes, a cat's whiskers would be put to shame. They sheltered a pair of blue eyes so still in their position he seemed conceited. The bishop could not believe how his morning was unfolding. "My sons," he started trying to preach to them, "I know you believe in your course, and you are determined to see it through to the end. I am honored that you have decided to come here to accomplish your goal, and I must commend both of you for being so honest and open about it. However it is my duty, to guide you and show you the right path. As a servant of God, I am obliged to not only show you the right way, but to also lead you on that road according to the wisdom that he has bestowed upon me. Indeed what you, my sons want to partake of can not. . . " "I told you honey, we should not have come here, they are all the same. Let us leave!" Eliab interrupted the old man, throwing his hands up in the air in dejection and turning to leave. He stopped mid stride when realized that his lover was not in toe. "Well, come on there is nothing for us in this god forsaken place."

Abner was not going to give up without a fight. He never let his feelings just slide, and he had learnt to impose himself ever since he was a young boy. The young man felt that if he always gave up, his parents would still be trying to 'straighten' him to this day. So would his teachers, trainers and associates. He stood rooted where he was staring up at the priest who was on the second highest stair. His gaze bore right into the clergy man's soul, and Abner felt his anger burn up in his chest. "How could he dare . . . who in the freaking world does this old geezer think he is. He certainly as hell does not think he is gonna refuse to marry us and just go back to his damn life." He thought to himself. His face had now turned red like burning coal, yet he did not utter a single word. With all that tension Ashphenaz felt his heart rate increase as his blood pressure rose in tandem., Abner, on the other hand, felt his muscles tightening, and he instinctively clenched his huge fists, Asphenaz immediately stepped back in fear. The distressed Abner, however, had no intension of physically harming him, his mind had only wondered back to when he was a young boy, desperately seeking approval. The background behind the priest broke down as if he had been ushered into another level in a video game. Up behind it, appeared a soccer pitch, rugged and muddy, drenched in a heavy downpour. He saw the younger him soaking wet, tears hidden by the crazy rain. He had no shirt on but a pair of soccer boots and shorts. His fingers were shaking like leaves during spring, and all he wanted to do was leave the bloody pitch to find some warmth. In front of him, just a few yards stood a set of goal posts and no one in front of them. Right there and then the priest morphed into his late father. He was the deputy head coach of the city's most successful soccer club. His old man stood a couple of feet away, his countenance stern as always. Unlike Abner, he was fully dressed and warm under a trench coat, an umbrella on his left hand while the right held a soccer ball by the tips of his fingers. He bent down once more and rolled the ball towards his son. Each time the ball came up to Abner, he felt like an enormous Yoke was upon his shoulders and his nervousness transitioned into fear for he knew he was going to let his father down again. He did not want to see the ball again for it brought him such grief, but his father always threw it back at him. This was the umpteenth time he was going to try and score the ball in an open net. The ball rolled and stopped right at his feet. It had soaked up so much water, it felt a pound heavier. Abner stepped back once again and looked at his father's eyes, and he knew that the ball's weight was nothing compared to the weight of the task that was in front of him. The expectation was like an anchor pulling him down. He went two more steps back, and as he ran to kick it; his feet felt wobbly like often times before. He felt his toes become flaccid in his boots, and he kicked the ball so far away from the goal it seemed impossible to do that unintentionally. It was almost comical as the young boy fell flat on his back as his father watched on. The coach dropped his head in desperation as Abner lifted up his face to see just how troubled his dad was.

Orioch, his father finally gave up for the sun had long disappeared. They had been on that pitch since dawn, in an effort to show him manly ways. He knew that his only son was 'different' and he reckoned that this would cause him much shame later. He had tried just about every trick in the book to correct him. Soccer was his trump card, and it just was not working, however, hard he pushed it. He had not scored one pathetic goal the whole day. There were days Orioch thought he was cursed. He hated faggots so much yet his son was turning into one, and he felt powerless to do anything about it. This time he picked up the net where he kept the soccer balls and went round trudging and picked up all the balls. Not once did he look at his son who was still floored. He then boarded the cart with all the balls, and headed to the house leaving Abner on the pitch.

His mother was looking on from the house window, and she could barely hold her tears back. Abner rolled over so that he could pick himself up, realizing that his father had left and noticed the disappointment etched on his mother's face behind the window. She had always tried to be supportive and understanding towards him, but that day he got real evidence of her true feelings and just how much his orientation hurt her. She seemed to wipe a tear drop from her cheeks as she promptly let down the curtains. Abner had never felt lonelier. He had tried so hard to hide how he felt; little did he know that his subtle mannerisms gave him away. It was all bare for all to see and he realized that his parents were all too aware. That explained why his mother had always been overly protective while his dad always tried, but in vain to get him interested in things that totally bored him. He never cared about rodeos nor horse breeding. To him cars were a means of transport and not a man and machine power couple. Pink and yellow were just so much better shades than blue and black, why couldn't everybody just get it? This is the question he asked himself as he entered the house. His parents were deep in conversation in, their room, and he heard it was about him. The family had tried to keep the issue under wraps, but that day it just blew up in their faces. His mother was trying to prevail upon Arioch, to go easy on him. The man was certainly getting on his last nerve, and he just burst out. "Well, what do I care? Your son is a freaking loser. I do not give a rat's behind if he ends up making soap for a living or becomes some Don's errand boy. Today I wash my hands off him. Let it be! "

Those words hurt Abner so bad he withdrew from everybody. Yet Arioch had no idea his son had heard him. In his lone moments, Abner would sit down and reflect on his worth. He was downcast, and his father's words rung out in his mind whenever he saw him or failed at anything. Many thoughts and much confusion defined his mental state for a while until he decided in a fit of anger that his was not a condition but a nature. Abner looked at himself and thought that if anyone could do anything, he would apply himself to it twice as much and was determined to be perfect in whatever he put his mind to. He accepted that he was gay and did not try to change himself. He resigned to his thoughts and agreed to be boxed in by society, for he indeed believed he was different. As he stood by that alter he reminisced just how far he hauled himself., Leaving his home town for this city, with nothing but grit and determination. If only to prove to his father that he was just as good as any other kid, if not better than all of them. He wanted to prove that be as it may, he was never going to be a failure or a mediocre man. He was never again going to be a victim, and he needed no protection from anyone, not his mother, not a rights group. He was going to fight his own battles to the bitter end and come what may; he would impose himself and demand his respect. This was the fuel that drove his current success and established him as one of the best soccer stars in the world. Over five years, his profile steadily rose with each club he joined and at twenty four he had ten trophies including two champions league cups, a myriad of personal accolades, millions s in the bank and much cherished fame.

Despite all this, he still was not satisfied. Living in the closet stifled him. Memories of how he stirred the soccer world when he finally came out are still vivid on him. He risked everything just so that he could be himself for once in his life, and he decided Ashphenaz was not going to take that away from him. "Look here old man, you pro'ly think you are better than us. News flash, you and your stupid religion are not jerk anything without people like us. God loves me just as much as he does anyone. That I know for sure. We will leave; okay, but you are nuts if you think we are going to let this indignation go unavenged" His words seemed to come out of his teeth as he pushed each one out, all the while his index finger pointed to the almost apologetic bishop. With that, he spit on the floor and followed Eliab out in a huff. When they got to their Aventador, Abner gave Eliab the wheel while he sunk in the passenger seat and immediately whipped out his cell phone. His next move was meant to inflict maximum damage on the bishop. He would get back at Ashpenaz, and the bishop would bare the cross for all who derided him all those years.

A shortcut on his home screen sent him direct to his favorite social media account. 'THE BISHP @ CANTERY CHURCH WON'T MARRY ME AND ELIAB COZ WE GAY. XTREMELY PISSED!' With just eighty characters, he knew he had brought a three hundred year old church to it knees. "He should know not to mess with me." He muttered to himself. He knew the power he wielded; he knew how much the entire world scrutinized his every move and hung on every word he said. Unlike other superstars, he was crafty enough always to use this to his advantage. Abner used the media so skillfully he had literally made himself an idol. Indeed his evil scheme worked exactly how he had thought it out. The response was so overwhelming, people from far corners of the planet reacted with outrage at the 'injustice' and 'barbaric' ignorance of a bishop whom many termed as living in the Stone Age. Abner plight became such a hot topic; the social site went down for hours. News agencies picked up on the seeming innocuous topic and made it a headline issue, on noticing how much interest it had generated. Many called into television newsrooms and radio stations across the world while bloggers went on overdrive with as many protagonists as were antagonists. The whole morning and late into the night anything else could cease but the debate about homosexuality and its place in modern society. Bishop Ashphenaz had gone back to prayer after the two young men he did not know drove off from the church precincts. It was only in the evening when he got a rude shock from the answering machine. He immediately turned on the television to find his name on virtually every television network's news ticker.

Ashphenaz had been pulled from his tranquil world into the center of the world's attention. How could he not recognize Abner? He wondered. Distraught by the unfolding events he decided to go home quickly. Ashphenaz stepped out of the church building smack into a maze of confusion as journalists and gay pride campaigners wrestled the church security for ground. Apparently they had been at it the whole morning. "Pretty good job these men have done here." He thought to himself. His ability to see the funny side of all matters even when he was up to his neck in trouble still amused him. A few of the workers present in the compound escorted him to his white Sedan, and he drove off using a back exit to escape the commotion at the main gate. At his house, he found pastors serving with him patiently waiting. "Huh! I see you guys are crazy enough to stick with me." He chuckled. "What! Whaaaat! " He stood in the center of his living room arms outstretched. "Do not be overly concerned my friends, your faces will fall off if you all maintain that look." He playfully chided them. He went on to assure them that the only thing that should worry them was the risk of stepping away from God's will. "Let God himself be my judge if I have wronged anyone. By the way, I did not even finish what I was going to tell them." He answered the senior pastors when they expressed concern over his safety and the future of the church. They later shared the evening meal at his house and had a lengthy prayer session after which, he dismissed them each to his own house to await deliberations on how the church would handle the matter the following morning. Before he let them go, he cautioned his men, "remember my brothers, you must always aaaaallways stand for what is true and right. The church must never ever mix with the ways of the world, but we should be clearly distinct. Black is black and white is white. Such matters have no grey areas, and you must not compromise come what may. I beg you all not to compromise even on the little details, let alone what is facing us now. Stay strong and keep the faith. Shalom! " He then bid them farewell.

That night Ashphenaz slept soundly. The old man had long learnt not to worry about the things of the world nor of coming events for no one had complete control over the future except he who reigns upon high. The God whom he served, the creator of heaven and earth. He prayed for peace and guidance and simply believed he had been granted his plea and moved on. God had won so many wars for him before he was not the least bit fazed by the hornets nest he had stirred in the morning for he did it all for God. As he slept, the world was still raging about him and Abner. In a matter of hours a little known clergy man was lifted to world recognition where even the other leaders drawn from the civil organization, church and governments called his name from different time zones. Morning came once more, and Ashphenaz could not help marveling at just how long his life had been. That morning he knew he was going to need God to come through for him in a big way as he drove to church. The church security by some means he could not figure had somehow managed to keep all media people far away from the main entrance, securing him a smooth passage to his work place. It felt like a triumphant entry, he did not realize that he was only in the eye of the storm.

CHAPTER 2.

He went straight for the conference room where only the chairman's chair was unoccupied. All the other administration members had arrived earlier, and they were all waiting for him. They conducted short prayers and settled down to agree on the meeting's agendas when suddenly four suits budged in. Hot on their pursuit were three staff members desperately trying to hold them back to little success. It was obvious they meant business in whatever could make them enter the room so forcefully. They were all young people, three men and a lady. The speed at which they approached the bishop surely was enough evidence of their youth and agility. They walked almost information as if they were aware of it and wanted to pass out a clear message to all present in the room that whatever they had come to do; they were damn good at it. At the fore, was the most prominent of them all, he stood a head taller than the rest, a handsome man with well defined facial features. He had done his hair so outlandishly it looked like stoked flames. His suit fitted him so well it is like it had been sewn on him and everything about his appearance shouted elegance. He always had this John Travolta smack on his face. Ashphenaz had never before seen a man so corky and self assured. He was the only one not carrying anything while his colleagues held folders, tablets and phones. He straightened his shoulders as if they could get any more linear and lifted his left arm to caress his ear stud as the Audermers Piquet that was just visible below his cuffs disappeared into the shirt sleeve. He did not wait to be welcomed, for he seized the moment the old men were still stunned by their manner of entry. "My name is Jerimoth, but you already knew that." At that point, Ashphenaz gently waved the staff away. "Together with me here are Jeush, Zaham and the lovely Ms Abihail. We are from Shishak and Lloyds. You all know what that means. It means you guys are in deep trouble. Abner has been prevailed upon by his fans globally to press charges, and that is exactly what he has done. I will be the lead counsel in this suit. You have hereby been served notice of the petition lodged in the court of law against the Bishop and the Cantery Church. You guys are so fried, cause I also happen to be a big big fan of Abner. Let us meet in court." With that, he beckoned behind him for the notices upon which Ms Abihail promptly put in his palm. He was still facing the priests as he got the papers from behind him and dropped them on the table, and they left.

The Cantery administration watched helplessly as the last of Abihail's hair disappeared behind the Frosted doors and they looked at each other. They still had no idea what had just hit them. It all happened in an instance. "That kid is crazy; he has no inkling of an idea what he is doing. He will ruin us." Abijah shouted in desperation. He was Ashphenaz's deputy. His distress was palpable as he raced back and forth his fingers combing through his hair. The other seven just fell down to their seats all too dumbfounded to say a thing. Matters were fast deteriorating. Never in their worst nightmares had they dreamed that the church would be brought down by one superstar kid. "What has the world come to?" An exasperated Abijah waxed rhetorical. "Do you know whom Shishak and Lloyds are? Do you have any idea who Jerimoth is?" He continued. "That guy has taken on some of the most improbable cases and won all of them. He has never lost a single suit I tell you. We are surely finished. We are nothing but minced meat for the bone crushing Rottweiler that is Jerimoth." The other priests were now clearly panic stricken when Aijah revealed to them just whom they were up against, and just how insurmountable the mountain in front of them was. "We truly are finished and surely done for, why doesn't our God show up for us now?" The petrified Abijah went on. "Hey cool it man." Ashphenaz interjected, firmly holding him by the shoulders. "We are gonna make it through this one too like we always do. Just go down on your knees in prayer and faith and out father in heaven will help us fix this." He assured them. Abijah then relaxed, more out of embarrassment than respect.

Meanwhile, Jerimoth was at the church's parking lot with a group of journalists. He liked playing to the gallery, and the fourth estate loved it when a star lawyer became involved in the years juiciest story. "I am deeply saddened by the plight of Abner. It is absolutely sad that a member of our modern society would have to be subjected to such kind of segregation and embarrassment because of values that really should not exist in our times." Jerimoth gave them the quip they wanted. He then took one of the camera lenses into the cusp of his hands and moved his face closer to it. "Abner and Abiel," He said with the most solemn face ever, he was actually believable. "If you are watching, I just want to assure you that we the people of this great city are solidly behind you. We love you and my team, and I will work tirelessly to ensure justice is done for you and nobody else has to go through what you experienced." Jerimoth then casually waved to the crowd and stepped into the back seat of his Maybach. The air was filled with shouts and praise for the famed lawyer as he driven away and Jerimoth loved every minute of it.

CHAPTER 3

Downtown in her nineteenth floor corner office, Debrah switched off her television set after watching the latest twist on the Cantery story. She had never heard about the church before, but all the show boating irked her. Debrah knew that the church was being mob lynched out of ignorance by the society. She was a country girl from a conservative family. She witnessed her father lose his entire farm because of the government's liberalists policies that greatly promoted corruption and greed. The injustice and utter disappointment she felt fuelled her struggles through law school and eventual acceptance into the bar. Over the years, she made a name for herself at Shishak and Lloyds defending the poor and downtrodden. Her work had done much to clean up the law firm's image as a broom that cleans up all the mess made by popular celebrities and corporate. Debrah knew her efforts would certainly merit her partnership, but it was never forthcoming. The grey heads over there chose Jethoram instead, a move that saw them part ways where she went to set up shop in downtown Melrose. Debrah and associates was now a year old.

The thought came to her mind and it seemed mildly wicked, yet it brought such a rush down her spine. She had never faced off with anyone from Shishak and Lloyds ever since she departed, more so Jethoram. She was tempted, but brushed the idea aside. "It is none of my business anyway." She thought out loudly. Debrah got up from her swing of a chair and straddled across the expansive office to the large windows that overlooked the city, her high healed shoes chiming to a beat on the beautiful tiles with each step she took. She stared at the people down below, they all looked like little ants, each on his on endeavor. Each a unique soul just seeking happiness in whatever it is they did. Every single one of them woke up in the morning hoping plans would work out for them in their businesses. Jobs, schools, hobbies or whatever it is anyone could care to do under the sun. So too did the ministers at Cantery and the entire fraternity over there. Right at that moment a bigger sense of purpose overcame her. There must be a reason God had raised her so high that fast. All the activity and chatter in the other rooms on the nineteenth floor was all because of her. Everyone who worked on that floor either directly of indirectly worked for her. "To what purpose?" She asked herself. The senior counsel then walked backed to her desk very sure that the peace God had granted her all this time would elude her if she ignored the calling that she felt in her heart. Debrah picked up the phone and got on the intercom to her assistant. "Hello lovely, I hope you are still keeping tabs on those scoundrels. You do know that they are all advocates." She chuckled into the mouth piece. On the other end was Misha, ever so warm and never lucking in humor. She loved her boss so much she actually followed her from Shishak and Lloyds despite the pay cut she would have to accept while starting out with Debrah. She knew Debrah well, and Debrah trusted her with everything about her life. "Yeah you can bet on that my lady, especially that eye candy Barack. Gosh! I could eat him dry hahahaha." Misha joked. "You will kill me with laughter dear, please keep your talons to yourself for the time being because I will need him for a few months now hahahaha. Could you be so kind so as to summon him to my office?" She requested Misha. "Of course madam, you are not planning to take him for yourself. Are you?" She chided her boss as both chuckled as they hanged up.

Debrah knew her next meeting would be unlike any other she ever had. She did not want to be sited behind her desk when Barak came in. They would speak as equals in trying to convince him to avail himself fully, if she was going to swoop in and come to the Bishop's help. She knew they did not stand a chance against Jethoram with any other legal representative. As good as she was, she too would need someone to team up with. Barak would be the ideal partner in such a situation among all the lawyers in the city of Melrose. He was passionate about justice and well versed with religious edicts. More so she noticed how level headed, meticulous and industrious he was. He would surely make a great counsel in the future, and she wanted to hand him his major break. She, therefore, went to the sofa up on the left side of her office. "Who knew my power nap bed would ever serve such a purpose?" She thought to herself, and a wry smile curved out on her dimpled face. Barack walked in as soon as she had sat down, as if on cue. He truly was eye candy Debrah thought. She found it crazy that she never really noticed that until Misha mentioned it. "Stay focused woman!" That inner voice she had trained herself for long always to listen to, brought her back from the star struck world she had ventured to. She motioned him to sit besides her, and for a moment there was an embarrassing silence. She then gently tapped the cushion next to her and beckoned him if only to move matters. The young man rushed forward almost apologetically and sat down like a student in the disciplinarian's office. It took Debrah's smile to ease the tension in the room.

"I am sure you are aware of the Cantery hulla baloo by now Barack." Debrah started off right away. Her guest nodded in the affirmative. "Well, I would like us to help them out. By 'us', I mean you and I. " Barack tried as much as he could to keep his cool, but his eyes almost popped out at the suggestion, and Debrah knew he was startled. He did not see this one coming though he knew his boss would not miss in any eccentrics list. At first he did not see the opportunity in it and tried to convince Debrah otherwise. "With all due respect miss, we are not even sure whether indeed that Abner intends to follow this to trial, or he is just looking for some more publicity. For a fact, we do not even have any idea if the Cantery church would need our services or afford them for that matter. Hypothetically speaking, lets say all these factors fall into place, you are well aware that Jethoram is representing the plaintiff." All these words he said knowing very well he was only punching in the dark for it was impossible to dissuade Debrah once she had set her sites on anything. His reaction was more of a flight reflex. Indeed she was prepared for it. "Do not worry man, I know very well that Jethoram has waded into the matter, which is the main reason I chose you for this one. Let's just say you are my David, and I believe you have what it takes to take on the Goliath that is waiting for you out there." That sounded musical to Barack, he cherished flooring giants and Debrah knew he had him hooked. "I know that I do not need to ask you twice to partner me on this one." She offered him the chance. Barack did not want to seem too eager, so he just kept quiet, but Debrah knew him well enough. "Well silence means concurrence." She said, her tone low as if the words were meant for her alone. "You will be the lead counsel should they accept our offer." Debrah followed up her statement, this time more audible as she rose up to go pick her laptop from the desk. She intentionally dropped the bomb the bombshell on him to toughen him up for the grueling fight that was coming. Barack, on the other hand, could not believe his ears. This one was big, and he was not even sure he could handle it as her assistant, yet she was handing it all to him. "I am very honored Debrah to serve you in such a capacity, but I would really appreciate it if you came with me to every hearing should it go to full trial." That was the most diplomatic the young Barack had ever been his entire life. It was barely ten in the morning, and already his day had veered way off the normal path. Debrah just looked at him and laughed. "Then what will people say when you win? Barack was coached to victory by a woman? Surely the honor will not be yours if I am constantly babying you." Her modesty disarmed him so much he remained silent. "Well then lead counsel, I am typing out our proposal to Cantery, please pass by the printers down stairs as you go to check out the guys at church. Shalom!" Having been severely challenged he walked out briskly and heavily sighed the moment her door shut behind him. The staff members who passed him by outside the big office felt sorry for him, anyone would be forgiven for thinking he had just been fired.

Barrack straightened his coat lapel and went to the printer room. Debrah had already mailed the proposal and the lady over there was waiting for him. Keen as ever, he went through it in detail and what caught his eye was that they would be working on this case for free. It did not surprise him, however, for he knew how crazy his boss could get. Next stop was Cantery Fellowship Church main alter. He arrived at the church compound, and there was clear evidence that Jethoram had come calling. The more patient media men still hung around to collect any left over morsels. One of his journalist friends once told him that people in that industry called them the lazy journalists for they always hanged around for the aftermath. None of them took note of him as he drove through. The church leadership was locked in a meeting, and he was not even allowed past the visitors lounge. It was only till late in the afternoon that he managed to get hold of Abijah. The deputy bishop immediately led Barack to his chambers when he introduced himself. Apparently they had been brainstorming on all possible ways they could get out of their current quagmire with minimal success. Abner was under pressure from his fans to go to full trial while Bishop Ashphenaz would not even negotiate with him. It was almost forgone that this would be a court battle, but they had no idea how they would go about it or the means to finance a protracted situation. They had never been in a legal tussle before, and it came as a surprise to them that it was unconstitutional to refuse to marry two willing adult partners. The provision was vague, but Barack informed him that all same sex partners who ever petitioned the courts under the law always won their pleas and it always resulted in huge financial implications in terms of settlements. The risk of jail term was also on hand. Abijah was clearly distressed, and the wrinkles on his forehead seemed to dredge deeper into his skull as he explained to Barack that Abner was suing for seven million. He knew they needed to act fast to stem the impending disaster, but he still remained non committal. He instead offered to take up the matter with his principal and the other board members. The two men exchanged pleasantries and parted ways. Barack would receive further communication the day morning. The meeting had taken him longer than he expected, and he knew he would not find Debrah back at the office. He instead opted to call and inform her of developments at Cantery while he headed back to his house. "I can certainly do with some alone time." He thought.

Debrah was going through her emails before anyone else arrived at the office. She had made this a habit so she could sort out the important ones and reply them before the day got busier. While she was at it, the most noteworthy one came in. It was from Ashphenaz. They would be taking up her offer, and they had decided to come to her office and go through the modalities. A sense of excitement came over her, and she sighed. She really wanted this one, not that she ever doubted they would take it up, but she feared they would dilly dally on a decision. Now everything was in place. Target Shishak and Lloyds was locked. Barack arrived earlier than usual. He barely slept the previous as images of the looming court battle kept poring over his head. The young lawyer made a beeline to the corner office where Debrah was waiting with the news. She was happy, but he was apprehensive as he forced a smile. A small part of him secretly wished that they would be turned down for he was spooked by the law juggernaut that is Jerimoth and his team. Debrah has always been adept at reading body language, and she noticed his uneasiness, but she was not overly concerned about it. She knew he would snap out of it when the rubber meets the road. Jethoram's pride and brush nature would ignite his competitive nature immediately they met. At nine thirty, Jethoram and Abija stepped out of the elevator on the nineteenth floor of Hirams Towers. Debrah and their lead counsel were waiting for them in her office. The duo was ushered in, and the meeting started in earnest. Ashphenaz explained in detail the events that transpired two days earlier as he made it clear that he would not barge from his stance. Abijah on, the other hand wanted to make sure that this unsolicited help was indeed free and that they would still work on their defense with utmost commitment. After both parties had been satisfied, they signed the meeting's minutes and commitment letters and parted ways. Abijah would immediately go and break this to the press. With that, Barack was the name on everyone's lips. Opinion analysts painted a grim picture for him, and many felt Cantery church had shot itself in the foot. Debrah was not the type to toot her own horn, but deep in her heart she knew that she was way better than Jethoram any day. Besides, it was her deep conviction that Ashphenaz was right in what he did, and she decided she would do all she could to ensure such ethos always stood. Barack had just come from escorting the church men's press briefing and was walking back to his office when his phone came to life. He did not recognize the caller ID, it was rather strange, but he picked it up all the same. These were crazy times and anything could come up. "Hallo there big shot." A male voice came from the other end, deep and corky; he wondered who it could be. "It is your boy Jeth here; I guess you are wondering how I got your number. Well, I do my homework perfectly. Please do not believe what they say. I am not a stat lawyer, somebody lied I have little under three hundred case wins and no loss at just thirty two. However, believe me when I say I want to get over this one so fast you won't know how you lost my friend." He did not even give Barack a chance to answer him as he hung up immediately his threat was conveyed to his opponent. Jethoram had no idea what an awful move that was. Barack did not care anymore whom he was all he wanted to do was to ready himself for this. He had stung him into action. He would never allow himself to be cowed by cheap threats.

Debrah was waiting for him in his office. "Hey there big shot." That phrase now sounded ominous to him. She smiled at him as he hung up his coat. "To what do I owe the honor?" He tried to establish a rapport with the boss he rarely ever spoke to before. "Aaah! Do not be worried lead counsel, I'm gonna be a regular here now if we are gonna take them down. . ." She said with a light touch. "... and we are starting right now." She finished her statement as she dug her shoe heels into the carpet to push the wheeled chair she was seated on a little to the side. Now Barack could see his whole desk from where he stood. Two piles of foreign documents stood out conspicuously from where he usually kept his in tray. Debrah's perfectly manicured fingers rested on one pile. "These are files of all previous such cases since 1986. You will study them carefully, these over here. . ." her palm moved over to the other pile as she posed briefly and looked at him. ". . . is a dossier on Jethoram. Everything about his practice, mannerisms, strengths, weaknesses and tactics. You gonna need the second one more than the first. Thank me later." She then gracefully stood up, walked up to him, straightened his tie and left. He stayed still until he heard the door's click shut. Debrah's cunningness just amazed him. She was actually more prepared that he ever thought. It was as if she knew the Cantery fiasco would come, yet he was wise enough to understand that she had obviously burnt the midnight oil in digging up all this information. In her, Barack knew he had the perfect partner because she worked like a stallion and covered all her bases. He could certainly learn a lot from the boss. Barack almost leaped to his desk and pored over Jethoram's dossier. He could not believe that Debrah had that much information about one of the worlds most renown law men He actually was not all that the media made him to be. It seemed like he over relied on his team and had taken all the credit for all positives. It surprised him that Debrah and Jethoram had worked together in almost all of Jethoram's earlier famous victories, yet for some reason Debrah chose to remain nondescript. Barack immersed himself into the other files, and he deeply pondered about each and every single event documented therein so much he lost track of time. When he lifted his head to look at the time, it was an hour to midnight. His neck felt rubbery, and he knew his body could not take any more. He just drew the curtains and slept on the floor. He could not drive himself home with his eyes heavy with sleep, a burning neck and an almost numb brain.

"Wake up sleepy head." He heard a woman call up as she shook him to life. "Damn it, it can not be morning already." He reached for his coat; to cover his face when the familiar scent of Debrah's perfume registered in his nostrils. He quickly jumped up and clumsily attempted to straighten and tuck in his shirt. "I'm sorry madam; it is not what it looks like." She only cringed her face. "I know exactly what I am looking at." Debrah reached into her clutch purse and handed him some mints. His spirit melted as he endured the most embarrassing moment of his life. He looked like a clown, with a creased, half tucked in shirt, and the office was so stuffy he just wanted to disappear. Debrah went over to the windows and slid all of them wide open. "Do not sweat it Barack, now go and refresh yourself before the other guys come in and find you looking disheveled. I expect you back here at noon. " Barack could not believe how gracious his boss was. Such moments made him believe that God always led his ways. He turned to rush out of the place, when he was stopped midflight. "Hey." Debrah shouted behind him. ". . . always remember to take it cool. Do not loose much sleep over the things of the earth." She said as she waved him off. "Gosh she is a preacher too." Barack thought as he rushed to the elevator.

Barack was coming from the shower when he heard on television that the hearing date had been set. It was just three days away. Suddenly his phone rung it was Jethoram. "Hi buddy, three days baby, three days. You know I can put the bishop away for ten. Nice weekend, chao!" "Maaaan, just what I need." Barack gasped sarcastically. "I better hurry." He thought out loud as he practically jumped into a clean suit. Realizing that time too was helping to stack the odds against him, he sped his BMW downtown Melrose. He found Debrah in his office waiting, calm and composed so much some of it rubbed off on him. "With such a boss, who needs a guardian angel?" He chuckled. That was the beginning of a grueling three day preparation marathon.

CHAPTER 4

Soon it was Tuesday morning, exactly a week since Abner and Eliab fatefully walked into Cantery church. Outside the city's court of common pleas, Debrah and Barack arrived with their clients Ashphenaz and Abijah in toe. Bodyguards helped them wedge their way through the camera snapping journalists and outstretched recorders. Fifteen minutes later, Jethoram, Jeush, Zaham and Abihail arrived. Unlike Debrah, Jethoram was keen to inform the media of his confidence and his ability to triumph. Barack felt comfortable in the packed court, he knew he was more than ready to go. He eyeballed Jethoram as he came in with his team. Soon after, Abner and Eliab walked in holding hands with an entourage flanking them. "Wow! They really know how to play to the gallery." Barack whispered to a very calm and collected Debrah. Then judge soon entered and immediately commenced proceedings. She read the opening statement, identifying the plaintiffs and the defendants and then proceeded to read out aloud the complaint document. The amount Abner was suing for shocked the whole gallery. She then called out the first defendant. "Ashphenaz Mouri you are hereby accused in this court of law by the plaintiff Mister Nathan Abner that on the morning of Tuesday the tenth of this month you 1. You indirectly trampled on their rights and freedom of association by being sarcastic, and derogatory about the plaintiffs desire to have you appreciate his union with his partner Abiel. 2. You blatantly tried to force your religious leanings on the pair by trying to lead them in your relative truth, in abuse of your office, as a religious leader. 3. You outright refused to marry the pair in contravention of the constitutional provision of chapter 17 of article 9 that expressly requires the state attorney, elders and cap 9.3, all spiritual leaders to marry two consenting adults and provide them with a state issued marriage certificate. The second defendant, the church of Cantery hereby represented by Mister Noel Abijah which you two lead has been sued for condoning and promoting doctrines that segregate and out rightly violate the rights of gay minorities. " How do the accused plead? Barack then rose up "Your honor, as the lead counsel for the bishop and the Cantery church I enter a not guilty plea on all four charges." Having studied Jethoram's dossier carefully he knew he would lap onto his every word and bog him down in a legal mire. Barack and Brenda would approach this carefully and limit their speech to the point that should be communicated. A not guilty answer was enough as he found his seat next to Brenda.

"Well then, I shall call the plaintiff's counsel forward." The presiding judge continued with proceedings, her tone measured but authoritative. It seemed like her words were a precious libation only to be used in small quantities. From her raised perch and the power bestowed upon her, she commanded as much respect as a deity. Jethoram buttoned his coat as he rose to take the stage. "Your honor . . . " He started. "On face value a soccer star has been pitted against a bishop in a civil suit, but to the keen eyed this is a struggle to ensure that the freedoms the nation's founding fathers used as the corner stones for this great country's foundations are restored and upheld. For decades, special interest groups like the one bishop Ashphenaz represents have slowly but surely chewed away at them. I say it is high time that the neo-defenders of our country put their feet down and say no to this constant erosion of our ways. These freedoms have enabled us as a nation to grow into the current global leaders that we are. I cannot over emphasize the need to safeguard our freedoms as a nation, or we risk sliding into the anarchy and authoritarianism that is rife in theocratic nations. " My client Abner is living proof that our system works exceptionally well. For that, I will be the first in line to defend our ways so that every individual in this great state lives a fully productive life they way they see fit, as long as it does not infringe on other people's rights. Our freedoms give us peace and the chance to be fruitful in out lives. The chance to be the best we can be, look at Abner here, he has won many accolades for this country and brought us much success and respect in the soccer world. He duly pays his taxes and does his bit in giving back to the society through his foundation. Look at him, a young man yet so mature. Your honor, if Abner and Eliab are not role model citizens of our nation, then I have no idea who is. I am terrified by the thought of what would have become of our beloved Abner and many like him if our society did not provide an enabling environment for them. I wonder! I am even embarrassed that we are here at all because the demeanor exhibited by the Cantery officials is utterly wrong, morally empty, selfish and inconsiderate." Debrah then immediately shot up " Your honor, is the plaintiff's counsel in order in resulting to cheap methods of presenting his case by attacking the person of our clients? We really should stay focused here." The judge then adjusted her glasses and backed, "Objection overruled counsel, we need to get the full perspective of the matters at hand. May the plaintiff's counsel proceed." A deathly silence befell the chambers. Jethoram knew he had properly set the stage for his next move. A perfectly choreographed plan to make Debrah and her team look arrogant and conceited. "Your honor, I beg to call my lone witness to the stand." He uttered his last word and waited anxiously for the roar that would come from the defendant's side. He surely was not disappointed. "Objection your honor!" Both Debrah and Barack shouted almost in unison. A little startled, the presiding judge turned to them like an owl. Her body was still facing the stand. "What is it counsel?" She enquired. Debrah was on a war path. "Your honor, opposing counsel did not indicate in an interrogatory that we earlier sent them, that they were intending to bring forth a witness. It is against court procedure to present a witness without disclosing whom they are, and the nature of evidence they would present." Jethoram knew very well that was the best entry point, and he immediately cut off Debrah mid speech. "Your honor, my witness fellowships at the accused's organization and we saw it prudent to keep her identity and the nature of her testimony private, lest the accused try to interfere with my witness." With that, he knew he had her fair and square. "Objection overruled, summon your witness counsel." The judge handed Jethoram that battle victory.

Abijah and Ashphenaz could not believe their eyes when they saw Zilpah walk into the crowded court room. "Tell me your secretary is not Jethoram's witness." The surprised bishop asked his deputy in astonishment. Zilpah had worked in the deputy bishop's office ever since Ashphenaz was deputizing his predecessor and they had no idea why she would testify against them while she knew very well the implications of a guilty verdict. Nevertheless she took the witness stand, and Jethoram began examining her after she identified herself and had taken the oath. "Good morning Zilpah" Jethoram started. "Yeah I am fine, thank you." She answered. Jethoram then continued. "Miss please would you be so kind so as to tell this court your whereabouts on the morning of Tuesday the third of this month?" "I was at the Cantery church annex hall saying my morning prayers." She answered. "And what occurred concerning today's case?" Jethoram went on. The whole time Debrah was rolling her eyes so much only the white of her eye was visible. "Well, I was just concluding my prayers so I could head back to the office when two young men walked in." Zilpah recalled. "Are they present here today?" Jethoram asked. "Yeah, I recognize Abner over there and the other guy." She pointed them out. "What transpired then?" Jethoram could not wait to get to the point. "Just about the same time they came in, our bishop walked in through the small back door behind the alter and approached them. I then overheard that they wanted the bishop to join them in matrimony." Then Jethoram interrupted her. "What was the bishop's reaction?" "He was lost for words." Zilpah answered. Not satisfied, Jethoram prodded further "Did he turn them down? If so how exactly did he do it?" Immediately Barack shouted his objection to the question citing that Jethoram was leading the witness. "Sustained." The judge concurred. "Counsel, I suggest that you refrain from trying to put words in the witnesses' mouth. I believe you had ample time to coach her before. " She cautioned him. "Well then your honor, I have no further questions." He said as he went to take his seat. "Would the defense like to cross examine the witness?" The judge now turned to Barack and Debrah. "Yeah, thank you your honor." Barack took the opportunity having taken, note of chinks in Jethoram's attack. He walked over to Zilpah and started out in a friendly tone. "Good morning miss?" He greeted her. "I am informed that you have been working at the Cantery for quite a long time. Is that true?" He asked Zilpah who replied in the affirmative. "Then why would you luck the common decency even to tell your long time benefactors that you were going to testify against them?" "Objection your honor, defense counsel is way out of line, this case is about Abner and most importantly the rights of gay minorities." Azam shouted from his seat. "Sustained." The judge calmly replied. Barack then continued with his next question. "You said that you were praying that you were in the sanctuary's annex. Right?" "Yes I was." Zilpah agreed. "From my recent visit there, I recall that the annex is a descent distance from the pulpit, one can not really hear if people at the pulpit are having a conversation close to the pulpit unless they are on the public address system? Would you?" He asked her. "Yeah you are right." She stammered out her answer. "Then do you mind informing this court how you knew that the plaintiffs prepositioned the holy man of God to solemnize their partnership?" At that moment, Jethoram realized what a terrible move it was bringing Zilpah to the stand. He had practically handed over the case to Barack. A flummoxed Zilpah sat there lost for words. "Well, your honor, I assumed so. Because they had been talking for a while, when suddenly; the other guy who came in with Abner started walking out. He looked frustrated, and started shouting that they had nothing in that church. At some point, he used a term which suggested that Abner was his lover. So naturally I thought that they wanted to get married since Abner had earlier announced to the world that he was gay." Barack could not wait to realise his sucker punch and finish her off after Zilpah unwittingly boxed herself with insinuations. "So I heard you right, you did not actually hear their conversation up until Eliab shouted, and from one sentence you made up what their talk must have been about?" The question was rhetorical in nature as Barack turned to the judge and said, "I do not have any further questions your honor." Immediately after Jethoram rose up and took Barack's position. "Miss. Zilpah, would you say that one can gat the nature of a conversation by reading the body language of those communicating?" He asked his witness. She agreed, upon which he went on. "From your judgment, was the conversation cordial?" "No your honor, Ashphenaz seemed disgusted the whole time, at some point Abner clenched his fists prompting the bishop to step back in fear." She immediately realized that she was only making things worse and quipped, " then I realized he gestured as if to wipe out tears from his face." Jethoram then cunningly attempted to paint a poor picture of the church with his next question if only to steady their sinking ship. "As a long time worker at Cantery church, what would you say is the bishop's position towards homosexuality ?" "He is extremely against it and would not compromise on the issue. He once expelled my daughter from the church when she came out and announced that she was gay. He has forced the same policy on the church, compelling many people to leave due to his authoritarian approach to the matter." Zilpah explained her working relation under Ashphenaz as Jethoram presented an admission to the judge. "I have no further questions your honor." He said. Emotions ran high, and the sole voice of reason permeated the air. "Would the defense like to re-cross examine the witness?" The judge offered as she glanced through the admission. "Yes, thank you your honor." Barack answered as he listened to the last word Brenda was whispering to him. He then walked toward Zilpah, a wry smile on his face. "Miss Zilpah, you said you were at the sanctuary annex praying, right?" Barack set her up. "Yes my lord." She answered. "Then can you without a doubt say that the bishop was sarcastic or used any derogatory terms?" "No, I can not confirm." Zilpah answered. "Did the Bishop in any way try to convert the plaintiffs into members of the church?" He followed up with another question. "I do not think so." She answered. "Then I rest my case your honor."

"Okay I have heard enough." The judge said. "By the powers bestowed upon me, I have decided not to let this case to drug on for long. The two sets of counsels in their own ways have demonstrated that it is pretty much an open and shut case. In my wisdom, I clearly understand its merits and demerits and would be issuing my ruling this afternoon. For now, we shall adjourn until2:00 pm." All the lawyers knew this one was coming, but the gallery was caught unawares. Jethoram rushed out while Debrah just could not hide her delight. Soon they were all back. Everyone took his seat when the judge was settled. She did not waste much time in reading out her ruling. "Having heard both sides in the case of Nathan Abner verses Bishop Andrew Ashphenaz and the Cantery church, I find that this suit does not have a strong basis and was prepared mainly out of egos and silly vendettas. I would like to point out such gross abuse of the courts should be discouraged for it only clogs up the legal system. Pursuant to that I, therefore, find the bishop not guilty of the first and second offenses in the charge sheet. The plaintiff's witness was unreliable, and they could not prove beyond reasonable doubt the charges they had leveled against the accused." There was a collective sigh of relief from Abijah and his bishop. "However this case has brought to the court's attention serious illegalities perpetrated by the bishop. I hereby find him guilty of breaking the state law chapter 16 cap 6 of the constitution in refusing to marry the plaintiffs as stated by his own admission in the document presented before me by the plaintiff's counsel. In my second ruling, the church of Cantery is evidently guilty of charge number four, for promoting segregatory practices that are against the law. In light of this, I hereby sentence that the bishop serves a one year suspended sentence and Cantery church be fined five thousand pesas for their respective convictions." She then grabbed her gavel and banged it down, with that; the court sentinel ushered her out. Barack hugged Debrah as the miracle of the ruling sunk in. They had just realized the bishop from the noose in one day in what was expected to be a drawn out war. He went and shook the bishop's hand and watched as Jethoram packed his belongings after getting his first ever taste of defeat. They had sued the church for an unbelievable sum, and he felt that the ruling was good enough. All Jethoram had to do was stay out of trouble for at least one year.

Abner and his group had long left when the bishop stepped out of the courts with his arms raised up in victory. Barack and Debrah followed closely behind. Ashphenaz and his men were thanking God for his great deliverance in answering the barrage of questions that came their way from the journalists. Meanwhile, Debrah tried to sneak away unnoticed when they caught up with her too. "Madam Counsel, what is your take on today's ruling?" One guy asked him. Debrah being the usual perfectionist, answered. "We are happy the judge realized early on that most of the accusations were flimsy and baseless, but we still intend to appeal the two unfavorable sentences. Someone needs to restore some morality to this country. It is a sad day when a church gets fined for sticking to what is right before God. In this sentence, you do realize that the priest has been effectively gagged, and that is simply not acceptable." With that brief statement, she was chauffeured away. Later that evening; she stretched herself a top the sofa in her office with a glass of wine as she pondered just how wretched the society had become. "Surely, no one knows what is good for people, during these few days we pass through life like a shadow. God's righteous rejoice at the cramps thrown down at them by evil souls. If only our savior came back sooner." She thought.

####

## Appreciation

Thanks for reading through my work.

This anthology has been inspired by my observations on life and the patterns I see forming after events and around people's lives. Much gratitude to you for downloading this e-book and enjoy the miasma of curiously exploratory mind.

Lastly I would like to appreciate my wonderful girlfriend Tinsae Haile for the inspiration she provided and showing interest in my indulgence.

You can connect with me online at.

Twitter @elvizbrian
