THE BLOODED CIRCLE
Odugbo Alapa Peters
It began to rain lightly. The clouds were not too dark, though. In fact, it seemed as though the early morning sun was only peeping calmly from behind their veils, from where it had remained as though standstill, an iridescent glow, with a little touch of red.
“Dad! Dad!” Jack kept shouting uncontrollably at the top of his voice, at verandah.
“Dad! It’s 7:20 am. already. Come on, hurry. We are almost late”, he had said while jerking and banging the door, with all the strength he could muster.
At eight, Jack was already really tall, only a few inches below Zach. He was a handsome, slim, oval-headed, broad-shouldered, little kid, with a pointed nose, and was as naturally chocolate-light in complexion as Zach; or probably Jane, because most people said it was she, and not Zach, that Jack took after. Whichever way, even after ten years of a smooth married life, family friends still felt that Zach and Jane were not only a dream ticket, but blood-related, if not twins, Precisely-Identical twins. And Jack was only a perfect replica, or at best, a real fruit of the apparently complicated identicalness of his parents.
“Hey! I’m set. Just stop banging our door,” Zach appeared, walking hurriedly, with Jane closely behind. He was corporately dressed: his portfolio in one hand and his suit on the other hand, as usual.
“Apologies. Your mom held me. She’s not really strong.”
He pulled Jane closer. “Look, you have no worries. We are all fine. We will be back in one piece. Nothing will happen.” He planted a light kiss on her lips. “No one will attack us. No one. It is all in your head.”
She pulled away slowly. Her face looked ashen, fluster with fear.
“Darling, please believe me just this once. I saw the person. With a gun, pursuing Jack in my dream. He wore black. Even when I woke up, the person was right there behind our window with a gun. Ple—aa—ss–ee…” The words were slipping from her mouth in a weak, calm whisper. A dribble of tears rolled down her cheeks, leaving two long watery lines on her face.
“Darling! Come on, be strong. Nothing will happen.” Zach hugged her tightly. For a moment he was silent. “We have to go. You will be better if you rest.” He kissed her and disentangled himself from what seemed an almost endless hug.
“Dad” Jack called out from the car, the level of irritation from his voice, was now pretty high.
The rain had stopped.
“Alrighty. Let’s get going then.” He slipped behind the wheel, kicked the engine once, and brought the car under a rather slow-motion locution. The gate man, Buba, tall and slim, with tribal marks on his cheeks, clad in a bogus jallabiya that made him look much like the seed in a sucked watery, over-ripe mango, waved at them, a smile mechanically working through the wrinkles on his face, exposing his kola nuts stained teeth.
“Jack. Please calm down. Sorry. It was your mom, you know.” Zach began to say, as soon as they were out of the heavy traffic on the road, in order to break the silence in the car.
“Dad. I just hope this doesn’t repeat itself again. I’m becoming a habitual late-comer. Everyone is beginning to ask why. Am not happy” Jack replied sadly.
“Sorry. It’s over. I promise, my darling it won’t repeat itself. I love you.” He caressed the Jack’s shoulder slowly.
“Fine. Sorry if I sounded a bit too harsh.”
***
Jane retreated, went upstairs and stood by the window lane facing the gate, her hands folded behind her. Although, the curtails have been moved to one end, the pane was still locked. She stood there for what seemed like eternity, lost in her thoughts, gazing absentmindedly at the gate, the compound and the fleet of cars in it. Her instinct, she knew was real, truly reliable and unfailing. Her fears and worries whenever they come, had never been empty. An imminent danger always stood by them, accompanying them like shadows. Some years back she had a nightmare that something terrible was happening in the village. She woke up with an agonizing headache, perspiring profusely. Her heart was pounding violently as if lodging a dogged attempt to rip off from her rip-cage. Her thoughts then immediately travelled back home, to her village, so many miles away, to her mother.
Days later, word came that the old widow, who had sacrificed everything to make Jane and her little sister happy had relocated to the world beyond. She was bitten by a python on her way back from the farm one dark evening. When Jane’s little beautiful sister, Grace followed her mother, Jane had had a much similar, bizarre feeling of some looming evil about to surface. Grace and her were at the table demolishing their cupful of ice cream dessert after a dinner of rice and chicken, when a calm knock came at the door. Jane was not expecting anyone by that time. She went down and opened the door. Three strange, violent figures rushed in, and shut the door. They were not thieves, because they had blatantly rejected her unsolicited offer of any valuables in exchange for Grace’s and her own safety. Instead, they ripped off her clothes, and took turns in raping her and……
