Chapter 27 CRUEL TWIST

EVE

If I had a naira note for very time I got into trouble, I most definitely would have become a billionaire by now.

If I had also known stepping out that fateful day to talk to Batman would prove fatal for me, I probably would have braved being a single mother for life.

Funny enough, I woke up high spirited, knowing or rather expecting my fate to be pleasantly sealed, with me day - dreaming Batman would take me into his arms once he found out I was pregnant, kiss my fears away and tell me everything would be just fine, thereafter we'd sail into the sunset, happy and smiling --

-- yeah well, that's not exactly how it went down.

As I drive away from home, the happy cloud around me deflates immediately Tomide's dwindling figure vanishes completely from my rear view mirror.

Clutching the steering of my car proves to be a bit of a feat for me. I've never really been the type to sweat on my palms, but I guess there's always a first time for something, because I'm sweating buckets there and it's making me extremely nervous.

They keep slipping from the steering and so does my mind too, envisaging the different scenarios that may arise from my talk with Batman.

Something along the lines of...

"Who's the unlucky dad?"

Or

"Huh?! How did that happen?"

Or worse still...

"What's that got to do with me?"

None of those imaginary responses soothe me, however - if anything, it drives me up the wall and by the time I get to the main road, I'm a nervous wreck.

Tomide forced me to eat a whole bowl of fruits and salad before coming out which I promptly brought up again, as all the contents came rushing out onto the floor of my bedroom, missing his feet by inches.

He'd cleaned my room up, against my weak protests, making it the third time that day. My body was taking this pregnancy very hard, it seemed my baby had come to trouble me, adding to my already precarious situation.

But somewhere along the line, I had come to love it - whether it be a he or she, I didn't care. So long as it was a part of Batman, I was happy.

Truth be told, I had already picked out a name, secretly hoping it would be a boy - a handsome - beautiful baby boy with dark brown eyes, straight aquiline nose and full brown lips just like his father.

I'd finally switched on my phone and was pleasantly surprised to get a ton of cheesy text messages from Batman, saying how much of a nutty girl I was and how much he missed me and wanted to be with me, which was all well and great but I didn't bother replying any, because let's face it - something bigger was staring us in the face here.

What I did though, was send him a cryptic six sentence text message that read: coming over soon, hope you're home, to which he replied enthusiastically that he was and couldn't wait to see me.

Well... I was about to burst that happy, clueless bubble he was in - I was about to burst it big time!

I hadn't spoken to Ebere about any of this because she was in the beginning of a weirdly happy relationship with Batman's good friend, while still managing to remain engaged to another man. Her text messages were a testament to that fact as she kept going on and on about how happy she was, even though she didn't know a lick about what was going on in my life presently. So she remained in the clouds about my current situation and I preferred it that way.

I was also quite surprised and taken aback to hear that Mr. Faseun had the nerve to come by to the house to look for me, after sending the nasty text that still remains on my phone, undeleted.

I need to keep seeing it to remind me of how I have been hurt at the hands of both father and son, and how I would never, ever fall into their trap again.

It hurt getting his text message - yes, like a bitch, but if he feels that way about me, there's really little or nothing I can do about it.

If I never hear from father and son again, it wouldn't be too soon.

To ye tents, o Israel is my golden mantra from now on!

I feel my fingers slipping on the steering once again and I swerve, almost hitting a kerb. My hands are shaking so badly I can hardly keep them still. When I can't take it any longer, I stop the car on the side of the road and take in large gulps of air.

I'm feeling queasy again, so I get down from the car, breathing heavily. I look around wildly, fisting my hands in my hair. Passers - by eye me warily, probably wondering if I'm having a mental breakdown.

They wouldn't be far from the truth.

What am I doing? What on earth am I doing? I just can't face him, I can't just walk up to him and tell him - Hey, I'm pregnant with child - your child by the way!

How would he take it?

I shake my head and bunch my knuckles inside my mouth as I bite hard on them.

The queasiness is coming on stronger now.

No - I'm not going to puke, not here, not now, not especially on the side of the road either, so I lean against the car and bend down, putting my head in between my legs for some few seconds.

By the time I right myself, I feel a bit woozy, but clear headed and the queasiness seems to have disappeared - almost.

I've got to do this.

I've got to go see him. He needs to know that he's bringing a child into the world. He needs to understand that one afternoon of sinful pleasure resulted in something meaningful for me - my baby - our baby.

He needs to know, and I need to make him see reason that I'm keeping it. If he says he wants nothing to do with the child, fine, I'll raise my child alone, but I'm definitely not getting rid of it.

I touch my stomach tentatively, smiling as I marvel at the life currently budding inside.

I'm yet to break the news to my parents. They would definitely be disappointed in me, but my dad - he would be devastated. He has always looked at me through rose - coloured glasses but when he finds out, he'd be staring at me through clear - lidded one's and it wouldn't be pretty.

Unfortunately, it is what it is.

I begin making plans as I get back into the car, on how I'm going to move out of my parent's place and get a small flat for me and my little one - if Batman doesn't accept us.

I'm the epitome of chipper as I whistle to myself once I get back onto the highway. One would never have thought I was the same person who was almost having a meltdown some seconds ago.

Perhaps I should have paid more attention, perhaps I shouldn't have taken my eyes off the road for one second, or perhaps I should even have just stayed at home today, maybe I wouldn't have hit the child that is currently lying down motionless in the middle of the road.

Seems like a dream to me as I remove my seat belt and open the car door in slow motion, walking on liquid - like legs towards the boy. Already a crowd has gathered, gawking at his body still lying prone in the middle of the road.

They turn accusing eyes to me as I approach, and I almost stall in my tracks, one hand on my stomach, because I know how being on the receiving end of a vengeful, frustrated manic crowd, can be.

"Move aside, move aside!" A loud man's voice can be heard above the sudden quiet of the rapidly - increasing crowd. "I'm a doctor."

He comes close to me, shielding me from the crowd with his body as he crouches down beside the still, prone boy.

Something seems off about him - way off.

It could possibly be the fact that his clothes are all black and he's sporting timber land boots, or it could be the fact that his movements with the stethoscope are jerky and unpractised, at best.

After checking the boy's vital signs, he suggests he be taken to a nearby hospital as his pulse is rapidly becoming faint.

So against my better judgement, the boy is put in the back seat of my car, while the doctor rides shot gun. A man opens the back door of my car and sidles in. As I raise enquiring eyes at him, the doctor quickly explains he's his PA.

Once we are on the free way, I begin to notice a car tailing us and no matter how much I swerve in and out of traffic, I'm not able to shake it off. I decide not to voice my worries to the men, because that is the least of my problems, frankly.

I zone in and out of their conversation as they discuss the fast dwindling economy in the country.

Since I'm not conversant with the area, the doctor takes it upon himself to direct me to the nearest hospital which when I follow, leads us to a secluded dirt road that is actually an abandoned close.

Tiny pin pricks of fear trail up and down my spine, but I shrug it off when I notice the doctor fiddling with his Google map and looking confused.

Something happens that strikes grave terror into my chest when the boy suddenly springs up from the back seat, hi - five's the man at the back, opens the door and waltzes off into thin air.

My mouth is in a slack state as I watch with disbelieving eyes, as the doctor - man - terrorist, brings out a long baton from underneath his tee shirt, gets down from the car, and signals to the man at the back to do same.

Their faces change into vindictive masks as I stare agape at them.

"This is the end of the road for you now, madam," he sneers. "Come down and make this easy for us and yourself too. You don't want us dragging you out now, do you?"

Fear slices though my heart as I get down on shaky legs, my sneakers making crunchy noises on the gravel. "I... I don't have any money on me, please."

Tears have begun to spring into my eyes and I let them, hoping it would somehow soften the hearts of these men.

"Oh, but we are not petty thieves, madam. We don't want your money." He scoffs.

Then you are here to rape me.

I silently curse myself for wearing shorts and exposing my body, making it easy for them to perform their unholy act on me.

"Please... please, don't hurt me. You can take the car, but please I beg you, don't hurt me. I just found out I'm pregnant and..." I can't continue, because tears are streaming down my face, rapidly blurring my vision.

The man with the baton begins to swing it up and down on his palm as he advances close to me. He stops some paces away from me and looks down his nose at my car. "You mean this scrap? Naa... we don't want it, do we?"

He looks at his so - called PA who has been standing behind me all this while, saying nothing, but I'm guessing observing everything. I hear soft chuckles coming from him, in answer to his partner's question.

I hear the approach of a car before I see it, silently praying that whoever is coming will be my saviour. As it gets close, I recognise it as the car that has been tailing me and my heart seems to sink further into my ribcage.

Unfortunately, my luck today has been shitty at best.

As the car gets closer, the two men snap to attention and the man holding the baton begins to grin.

This is bad - this is very bad!

Two men get down from the car, bringing out something bulky with them. One of the men puts a tripod stand on the gravel, directly facing me, while the other man whips out a camera and sets it on top of it, fiddling with it in the process.

When he's satisfied, he gives baton man a thumbs up and he turns back to me.

They want to rape me and record it too?

I stare in horror at them, stumbling back in a bid to escape the oncoming horror, but the man behind me is faster, because he holds my arms from behind and turns me to face my car as I watch in horror as baton man begins smashing it.

By the time he's done, my car looks like it has been in a train wreck.

All the windows are smashed, glass shards lie like broken crystals on the ground. All the tyres have been deflated and my car sits at a very odd angle.

Even the paint has been scratched and damaged. And the engine, well, they certainly didn't spare that either.

So I can safely say that my car has been totalled.

But even that is the least of my troubles, as Baton man turns to me and shrugs. "Nothing personal, this is just business." And the baton comes crashing down onto my stomach.

The pain I feel is indescribable, like I just imploded in myself. I grit my teeth and close my eyes, imagining I'm in a grassy field amidst daffodils and lilies - no roses because they have thorns and thorns can prick, causing pain and making one bleed.

But then the pain seeps back into my subconscious, bringing me crashing back to reality with a definite bang, as the second slamming of the baton on my stomach sends my brain into a scrambled mess of pain.

I literally see stars then, as my breadth hitches in my throat and I close my eyes against the sting of tears threatening to fall.

Have you ever imagined being hit by a train?

Me neither ...

... but right now, the pain radiating from my stomach feels like I've been hit by ten trains. It's crippling to the point that I pass out in shock, but the slap that collides with my face quickly brings me around once again.

"Aww! The princess has passed out. Can't take a little pain, sweetheart?" Baton man taunts as he raises the baton once again for the third time.

I know, I just know that if he hits me with it one last time, I'll pass into oblivion, probably never to return.

"Please... stop," is all I'm able to manage. My arms are still being held at my back in a tight grip, but my knees are weak and I feel them buckling under the weight of so much pain.

Through blurred lids, I notice Baton man looking at me; he nods and smiles cheerily, as he turns away from me, but just when I think to myself that it's all over, he turns round at the last minute and slams the baton into my stomach once again.

I'm immediately released from the hold of his partner as I crumple onto the ground, where I coil into a foetus - like position, shivering and muttering incoherently to myself.

My whole body aches ferociously and my head is spinning. I'm a step away from passing out when I feel something wet slide down the side of my legs and I realise I don't need a crystal ball to know my baby has just been murdered.

I cry helplessly - weakly, as dry sobs wrack my entire being.

I vaguely hear laughter and some tsking, followed by cruel words - "That's how it always ends - blood, snot and tears."

The receding crunch of gravel together with the unmistakable bang of cars shutting and the settling dust thereafter, alerts me to the fact that they've finally left me alone to mourn in misery.

I move in and out of consciousness, holding desperately to the hope that my child was given free reign to live - to exist and to have a chance at life.

But I know that's just vain hope.

After all, everything in this life is vanity.

... and that's what's so wrong with the world all around - foolish, vain and misguided people, beclouded with hate in their hearts.

This is the last thought on my mind as I drift into oblivion, hoping to never return.