CHAPTER TWENTY
Mazi Ofodile stretched on his bed and released a loud yawn, then he squinted at the sharp rays of the morning sun that sifted into his room through the numerous tiny holes on the aluminium roofing sheet. He made a mental note to get a carpenter patch those holes before the rains came. He got out of the bed and stretched some more, then shuffled his old bones towards the door.
Then he paused.
He remembered that he had a funny dream in the night.
Yes, a funny dream about a woman who came from Lagos claiming to work for his dead son Nwanna. He allowed himself a shaky smile; the exit of Nwanna was something he was starting to get over, albeit very lately. He shook his head slowly, these dreams were simply a sign of senility.
He walked out of the room and into the compound.
His grandchildren were sweeping the compound and they stopped to greet him. He acknowledged their greeting with a wave and walked slowly to his obi. His son Ikemdi had made mention of another wife to him, but he waved the prospect away. He believed he was too old now to meddle in marital matters. He walked into his obi and sat down.
Then he really thought about the dream like all superstitious people would eventually do. His son Nwanna was not dead, he knew that. The boy had just vanished into thin air years ago and Mazi knew he was the cause of the whole thing. He wondered how his son would look like now.
He shook his head slowly, sorrowfully.
Just then Mazi Ozo walked into his obi.
“The council have finally decided, we are to attend Okere’s burial in Lagos in a fortnight” he announced. Mazi Ofodile nodded.
Mazi Ozo leaned on his staff and said “imagine an old man like me travelling many miles to that city just because of the burial of a man who is almost a stranger to me.”
“That is what the council have finally decided, so we have no other option rather than to go.” Mazi Ofodile replied half-heartedly. He didn’t want to go into a lengthy discussion, he just wanted to stay by himself and ponder over the dream he had.
“I just hope i can make that journey and back in one piece, there are many things that can kill an old man.”
“Yes, many things” answered Mazi Ofodile in the same manner.
Mazi Ozo noticing that his friend didn’t want to be drawn into a conversation said “i will be going now.”
“Greet your family for me.”
Then he left.
Left Mazi Ofodile to ponder over the dream.
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That Saturday morning, Rosa was cleaning the windows in her sitting room and whistling a gospel chorus under her breath, the dream partially forgotten, when she heard a scrapping sound coming from the kitchen.
She paused, listening.
The sound came again. It was as if someone was dragging a metal object across the kitchen floor and being so noisy about it. Rosa dropped the rag into the mop bucket and wiping her palms on her apron, proceeded slowly and nervously to the kitchen. As she neared the kitchen door, the sound stopped. She stopped.
Then someone started to cry- a low pathetic sound that almost sounded like a cat’s meow. Rosa stood rooted near her kitchen door wondering what on earth she would see when she entered there.
The crying continued, now accompanied with sniffing noises.
Rosa took in a deep breath and walked into her kitchen.
And met the most horror spectacle she’d ever come across in her life.
There in her kitchen stood a pretty-faced girl with a gas cylinder body. The girl looked up hopefully as she entered the kitchen, her face tear-stained. It was extraordinary will that kept Rosa from losing consciousness.
“Please help me” she whimpered “only you can help me.”
“Wh- what?” stammered Rosa, clutching her breasts tightly in terror.
“I need to get back my body. He is with it, your boss” the girl said “you should help me.”
“And what might he be doing with your body?” Rosa asked a little boldened by the fact that the cylinder girl seemed not intent on hurting her.
The girl stared intently at her and then said “he’s loving her”.
“What is your name?”
“My name” the girl said still looking sharply at her “is Asuncion Okeredo...”
The name sounded familiar.
The acrid smell of cooking gas suddenly permeated the room, stinging Rosa’a nostrils. She gave a choked cough.
“... and i need my body. I NEED MY BODY”.
Dense white fumes covered the kitchen, encompassing them, blinding Rosa. The smoke rushed into her nostrils making her feel woozy. She gagged and spat.
“Please make the smoke go away, i’m choking” she pleaded amidst coughing.
But Asuncion Okeredo was gone.
The smoke didn’t go with her, rather it intensified forming a thick deposit in the kitchen till Rosa couldn’t even tell it was her kitchen.
She was losing consciousness and quickly too. She was leaving the environment hastily and there was noting she could do about it.
As she finally slipped into that dark state of unconsciousness, she felt she heard a whisper, a low hoarse whisper repeating the name
ASINA.
Over and over again.
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When she came to, it was evening and she was lying on the kitchen floor, her apron spread out in front of her. She was feeling a dull ache on her temple. She glanced around her kitchen, half expecting the scrapping sound.
There was none. Asuncion Okeredo was gone and the kitchen was just the way it had been in the morning. She got slowly to her feet and began to make for the sitting room, when she saw it.
The throbbing in her temple intensified.
There, high on the kitchen wall and scribbled in a scratchy handwriting eith what must have been black ink were the words;
FIND ME BEFORE HE FIRES YOU.
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Beniah was sitting with Estelle on the large living room couch watching the Tvseries Grey’s Anatomy when Ben walked into the room, carrying a travelling bag.
They both looked at him.
“I need to go to the university today” he explained, avoiding their eyes.
“But you didn’t inform me prior to now, son” Beniah said, putting the TV on mute “ i hope there is no problem?”
“No, not much. It just cropped up- a close friend’s convocation party, i have to be there”.
“That’s fine, you got to socialize. You’ll take Estelle along?”
Ben looked at Estelle, she looked back.
“No, she’s really enjoying her stay here and besides the party would be an all-guys affair. I wouldn’t want to bore her”.
Estelle stood up from the couch and walked up to him “let me see you for a moment” she said, and taking his hand, dragged rather than led him outside.
“what’s the matter?” Ben asked.
“I want to go with you” she whispered heatedly.
“Come on, you just heard me tell my Dad it’’s an all-guy affair” Ben replied in an exasperated manner.
“Or you want to go and hang out with a new girl?” Estelle fumed.
“Yeah, and that wouldn’t be a bad idea given the fact that i’ve always been by mmyself since we returned. You’ve always been with my Dad, either listening to his stories of the dead or cracking jokes about them” Ben said in an angry tone “so stay with him okay?”
Estelle stared at him, tears stinging the corners of her eyes and then she spun around and made for the door.
“Estelle” Ben called. She stopped, then turned to look at him.
“Tell Dad i’m gone, i’ll be back in three days and...” he hesitated.
“And what?”
“I’m not going to hang out with any new girl... you’re the love of my life. I’m going to hang out with my friends”.
She gave him a weak smile.
He smiled back, turned and walked across the fresh lawn towards the gate.
She turned and walked towards the house where Beniah was waiting for her, hidden behind the living room door.
With a club in his hand.
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Saturday night passed without any terror-ridden dreams for Rosa and Sunday morning dawned with a clear conscience. Though she didn’t have any nightmare the night before, Rosa was still frightened. The hallucination or whatever it was that she had seen in her kitchen was too real, too vivid to be ignored. She had just wiped the painted message from her wall with a rag and a bucket of water. She was really scared.
She decided to pick a few of her belongings and go to her mother in the village.
“That would be a very bad idea” said a female voice. She jumped and looked around, her heart pounding in her chest.
There was nobody.
“Who is that?” she asked in a small frightened voice “please show yourself, you’re scaring me”
There was silence, nobody answered her.
She picked her cell phone and started to dial her pastor.
“That wouldn’t be a good idea either”
She dropped the phone, shaking visibly and looking around her bedroom where she was.
“You can’t see me because i’m in your head, and it’s only a pity that you can’t recognize my voice”.
Then Rosa knew. She whispered “Asina”
“Yes that’s me sister and i know what would be a very good idea”.
“What?”
“I want you to dress now and go the funeral home. You would find something that would interest you”.
“What would that be?” she asked, confused.
But Asina had already retreated.
Rosa sighed, stood up from her bed and made for the bathroom.
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When she walked through the gates of Zodiac funeral care, it was so quiet that the air was still. Bamgboshe street was almost deserted as it always was on Sunday’s.
Ukpabi, the over-used janitor, was snoring on a chair with his head thrown back and mouth wide open.
Rosa didn’t disturb him.
She walked up to the Victorian-styled building and let herself in with her spare. She climbed the stairs to her office which served as an ante-room for Beniah’s. Inside she gave her desk a cursory glance before entering her boss’ office.
As though teleguided by a supernatural force, she walked up to his table and switched on his computer. She logged on as administrator.
Then she sifted through the folders and came across one that was captioned MY SOURCES. She pressed the ENTER key and a message bar appeared which read FILES ARE ENCRYPTED ENTER PASSWORD TO DECRYPT.
She typed ASINA and pressed ENTER.
Then the true nature of Beniah opened before her.
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Beniah arranged Estelle in a lying position in the backseat of the truck and then checked her bounds. They were still firm. Then he checked the tape he had used to seal her mouth.
They were still intact, everything was good.
Though she was unconscious from the blow, he didn’t want to take chances. He was going to drive and the last thing he wanted was for the girl to suddenly startle him.
He climbed into the truck and drove out of the compound towards his establishment.
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Rosa stared at the computer screen entranced. What she was seeing was beyond her imagination.
Her boss, her secret love, loved to copulate with dead women.
The document contained pictures of the different females from whom Beniah had derived orgiastic pleasures with vivid descriptions of such activities. The document started with an introduction which gave a detailed description of his life...
When i fled home in late 1971, i ran to the neighbouring town of Onicha feeling disenchanted and depressed with the overwhelming realization of what i’ve done and its implications for my father if found out. Knowing nobody in town, i survived doing menial jobs in the day and sleeping in the market at night...
Rosa skipped some lines, and continued reading
... this white missionary doctor soon grew to love me, and i loved him too. Everyday, i always stood at a particular spot in the market waiting for him to come. Then i would carry his bag and walk with him to the mission hospital where he attended to patients. While there, he would...
She jumped to another paragraph.
In 1973, under the sponsorship of the missionary doctor who had adopted me, i gained admission into the university of Lagos to study medicine. It was while learning with corpses in the department of clinical surgery that the old yearning for the dead was again aroused in me. Soon i started visiting the departmental morgue under the pretext of study but only to satisfy my abnormal sexual preferences.
I graduated from the university in 1979 with an MBBS and an award as the best student in clinical surgery.
Another paragraph further down read;
In 1982, having been sacked from a private hospital where i had been employed for “having relations with preserved cadavers”, i sold my late foster father’s estates except for the colonial-styled house on Bamgboshe street which i converted to a funeral home. I got married, had a son and lived happily and quietly for three years. Business was good too.
Then lower.
The colonial house is a wonder, it holds secrets that are yet to be divulged. There are many secret rooms and passages. Historically, it was used as slave house for the storage of Negro slaves prior to their exportation to the West during the pre-colonial era of the 1800’s. I look foward to playing a great game of hide-and-seek here with my son.¬¬¬
The next paragraph.
My wife’s extra marital affair with my best friend coupled with the fact that i always heard a voice whisper the strange word “ASINA”in my head, made me to snap. Once again i sought solace from my dead beauties. I sought solace extensively.
The next paragraph was the last, and it consisted of only one sentence.
One evening, in early 1986, i murdered my wife by strangulation while having it with her.
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Beniah drove up to the gate and horned gently. Ukpabi jumped from his doze and proceeded to open the gate. He waved as beniah drove in, but he ignored the greeting.
“Open the garage for me” he ordered.
Ukpabi who was in awe of his employer, rushed to do as he was told promptly. Beniah drove into the garage and braked. He got out of the truck and opened the back door. Estelle was gradually regaining consciousness. He dragged her out of the truck and heaved her across his right shoulder. She moaned. Then he carried her through the inner door connecting the garage to the main building.
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Then Rosa scrolled to the part of the document written PICS and clicked on it.
Series of pictures appeared with tags attached. First on the list was an old sepia toned picture of a smiling woman with an afro hair-do. It was tagged Angie Opata 1986.
Then the pictures of other women followed both in sepia tone and in coloured, some dark, others fair but all of them beautiful. Towards the end of the picture list, Rosa started seeing faces that looked familiar. Faces she felt she recognized from booking their obituary announcements and updating their personal information in the logs. She wasn’t too sure anyway.
She scrolled to the last three pictures.
And froze.
They were people she knew.
The first of the last three pictures showed a very fair girl with a nomadic look and considerable beauty, she was tagged;
Zaynab Philo Okure (i named her Philo cos i liked the way it sounded).
Rosa could vaguely remember uploading her profile in the logs.
Then came;
Asuncion Okeredo (nice girl with a pretty body. The fact that she died from lack of air reminds me of that melodious song from Jordin Sparks. She’s actually resilient; the only member of my beauties who had the audacity to approach me for her body).
And finally;
Ireti Douglass ( i just got myself a queen).
Then below was a line written as though on an after-thought.
I nearly got found out by a white bastard. Of course i had to take care if him.
Rosa looked at the screen for a long time lost in suprise. It was as if a virtual reality movie was playing out before her.
Her boss had the body of that beauty queen.
But she had been buried. If so, how come her boss still had her body?
Exhummation. Did he exhume the corpse from the cemetary?
Rosa didn’t think so. To exhume a corpse takes a considerable amount of time and the security at the cemetary wouldn’t give him that time.
What if they worked with him?
There was only one way for Rosa to find out.
She walked to her office and switched on her computer. Then she entered the establishment’s log where the personal information and funeral specification of clients were stored.
She entered the name Zaynab Okure and waited. The screen brought out her profile. She read through;
Name: Zaynab Okure
Age:26
Marital status: single
Funeral specification: closed casket funeral without viewing.
Cause of death: died of natural causes.
Autopsy result: not needed.
Special remarks: none.
She visited Asuncion Okeredo’s profile;
Name: Asuncion Okeredo
Age: 27
Marital status: single.
Funeral specification: closed casket funeral without viewing.
Cause of death: asphyxiation.
Autopsy result: not needed.
Special remarks: none.
She entered the name Ireti Douglass;
Name: Ireti Douglass.
Age: 21
Marital status: single.
Funeral specification: closed casket funeral without viewing.
Cause of death: classified.
Autopsy result: not needed.
Special remarks: a top model and beauty queen.
Rosa stood up from her desk and switched off her computer. Then she walked back to her boss’ office nodding slowly in realization.
Beniah Opata had his tastes in women even though they were dead. He also knew how to cover his tracks in case of future discovery.
His women were young.
They were beautiful.
They were single.
They didn’t need an autopsy.
And most important of all...
They all had a closed casket funeral without viewing.
Just then she heard a sound coming from inside the fire-proof cabinet that occupied one part of the office wall.
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Rosa stood transfixed, staring at the cabinet.
What the hell was making that sound inside it?
The only way to find out was to open it and see for herself. But she didn’t have the keys, that was one thing Beniah didn’t trust her with.
And now she realised why. That cabinet was more than what it was. It held secrets that Beniah wouldn’t risk being found out.
She needed to find out, but she didn’t have the keys. She didn’t even know where Beniah kept them.
The keys are with Peter.
The supernatural voice of Asina whispered in her head.
Who is Peter? Where do i find him?
He is right before you.
She looked around the office and her eyes rested on the statue reportedly crafted by Michelangelo. That was Peter.
She walked up to the statue and looked at it for some time trying to figure out where the key would be. She remembered seeing her boss patting the hand of the statue and decided to give the hand a closer look.
Peter’s right palm was folded into a fist as though it was holding something. Rosa pried it open and a metallic object fell to the vermillion rug. It was then that she realised that the hand wasn’t rigid like the rest of the body
The key.
She picked it up and moved to the cabinet. She inserted the key in the lock and turned it. The door sprang open and Rosa found herself staring at a stack of files and documents. Most of them were old and dusty with age.
The cabinet was innocent, Rosa couldn’t see any dirty secret it haboured. She was about to close the cabinet door when she heard a sound inside. She looked back inside.
There was nothing there. Then she heard the sound again.
It seemed to be coming from behind the files and documents.
Rosa started to remove the files frantically, throwing them across the office floor. She was at it for about three minutes and then she stopped to survey her handiwork.
She realised she’d been wasting her time. She needn’t have removed all the files, the shelf on which they were packed in the cabinet was a door that led to somewhere beyond. Its lock looked old but well oiled. She took the bunch of keys from the floor where she’d left it and examined the keys it contained. One stood out of the bunch, looking old and medieval.
She fixed it into the lock.
It fitted.
Then she turned it slowly.
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Beniah dropped Estelle on the floor in a corner of the room and straightened up, puffing from his exertions. Estelle who had regained consciousness, looked at him baffled, then she looked around the room. He removed the tape from her mouth.
The room was dark and windowless, the only lighting coming from a candle on top of a desk drawer. Old wallpapers, soft and dusty with age graced the walls. At the far end of the room was a three-legged table covered with red cloth on which there was a crucifix, a potrait of the virgin Mary and two red candles. A radio edit version of Bob Maarley’s no woman, no cry, played from an unseen recorder somewhere.
Estelle glanced at the hospital bed in the centre of the room.
A beautiful naked girl who appeared to be sleeping lay on it. She glanced at Beniah.
“Who is that?” she asked in a small voice, trembling. Since she looked into Beniah’s face , she hadn’t had the gut to ask him why he was doing such.
“A very good friend of mine. She’s the latest and i’m homping her presently. And as you may want to know, she’s dead”.
Estelle stared at him, open-mouthed and terror-ridden.
“You... you’re a necrophile” she whispered.
“Yes” he answered matter-of-factedly.
“Does Ben know?” she asked. The initial terror had passed and now she wanted to know what was going to become of her.
“No. Of course not” he said “ i wouldn’t involve my son in this”.
“Then why are you involving me, i mean it’s not as if i’m dead”.
Beniah moved to the bed and sat on it and then took the hand of the cadaver and put it into his mouth.
“Because you asked me too many questions. You were too interested in what i do, in my job. And i get paranoid when people get too curious about my job”.
“So what are you going to do with me?”
“I’m going to find out how appreciative you are of my job. You’re going to watch me have this corpse”.
“I would do no such thing” she replied vehemently “i can’t believe that such a responsible-looking man like you could descend so low. No wonder your son is not all that proud of you.”
Beniah jumped from the bed and moved to her. Squatting in front of her, he took hold of her jaw and forced her to face him.
“Maybe then, you’ll like me to strangle you and then have it with your body. I did it to my wife you know”. Estelle looked at him, horrified.
“So would you like that?” Beniah asked, shaking her head, “answer me, would you like that?”
Estelle shook her head vigourously. He let go of her jaw.
“Then you have to watch me”.
He had started to unbutton his shirt when there was a creaking sound. The sound made by the hinges of an old door.
Beniah started and looked in the direction of the sound. It was coming from the office access.
Someone had broached his security and was now trying to enter his sanctuary from his office.
He let out a vicious curse.
Picking the tape from the floor, he retaped Estelle’s mouth and then looked around the room for some sort of weapon. He wished he had come with his club, or better still his gun.
He looked down at his shoes. They were Italian and had heavy soles. They would do.
He pulled both of them and walked to the door that led from the cabinet.
Holding both shoes above his head, he waited for the intruder.
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Rosa pushed open the door, aware that it was groaning loudly. She wasn’t going to spring suprises on whoever or whatever it was that was in there.
She found herself looking into a room lighted only by a candle. Then as her eyes focused, she began to see more details.
At the far corner of the room sat a bound and gagged girl. The girl was looking at her, horror written all over her and she was shaking her head at her. Rosa knew that she needed help and decided to offer it. Probably, her boss had kept her captive there for some while.
As she stepped into the room, somebody came out from behind the open door, holding two shoes.
Rosa just had enough time to look into the furious face of Beniah, before he brought the shoes crashing down on her head.
She slipped into a dark unconsciousness.
