Timothy hadn’t changed much, except that he looked fresher now that he was in a lot of money. He had a stylish haircut and was dressed in an expensive suit. The farthest part of the room where he’d been having fun with his girl, looked as if it was designed for that ‘purpose.’ It contained a large futon, a big white bar near the window, three white armchairs and a centre table made of glass. There was a white custom made sofa on which the duo now occupied.

“More grease to your elbow, but can you guys please pause…Timothy and I got some important chit-chat to do.”

“Tonye, what are you doing here?” he stammered at me.

“I’ll start by apologising for what I did to your guards, furniture and…” I paused while staring at the door.    

“…and also your receptionist.” I picked up the gold coloured necktie on the ‘ice’ table and threw it at him, when my hand suddenly became suspended in the air, the moment I saw the face of the girl who’d been panting under Timothy’s ‘torture.’  Timothy walked up to me, as he hurried up his dressing and began to fumble around for his shoes.

“Is that not… the former Miss Nigeria?” I whispered to him as I saw her refill her champagne flute on the centre table. She soon relaxed and began to sip slowly while fixing her gaze on me. Timothy paused in his dressing and picked up his phone to make a call. He talked for a few seconds into it with a frown, which soon turned to a smile, before he dropped the phone and continued his dressing.

“It’s the Assistant Commissioner of Police. You sure messed up my boys at the reception…I’ll just triple their salaries for this month for the ‘inconvenience’…”

He stood up from his rich white leather chair, and began towards the girl, when I pulled him back and shoved him into the chair. My countenance changed once more as we began to converse.

“Tonye, I haven’t seen you for a while, and you think this is the best way to express affection on this memorable day?” He asked still smiling. Evening was drawing fast and I wanted to hurry up and get home, because of the exhaustion from the ‘exercise’ in the lobby.

 “I didn’t come here to look at this magnificent building, beat up your guards, batter and harass your ladies for nothing…” I came close to him and whispered my intention of doing the same thing he did to get rich.

 “Men you’re crazy Tonye, are you serious or you want to spend the entire evening making me happy?”

“Do you know how I got here? I got here with the money my sister gave me for…for feeding?” My last statement had no effect on Timothy, as he simply maintained his ‘happy’ face and kept looking at me as if I was a well-dressed drunk.

“So?” He asked. I sighed, walked towards the girl at the end of the room, came back to Timothy’s desk, pulled him by the lapel and showed him the purple painting that had caught my attention. He straightened his suit as soon as I left him and observed the Marine Brothers Society painting with a strange kind of reverence, before walking up to me with a stern face.

“Are you serious about what you said, about becoming…like me?” He asked while looking at me.

“I’m dead serious man, I’m tired of the way I am. You’ve got to help me, because if you don’t, you’ll see my body hanging near your car park very soon.” I concluded while pointing to the window with well-manicured trees and flowers around the car park below. He turned away from me still maintaining a serious countenance, as he walked to the table and called his driver and personal bodyguard.

“You look like hell,” he whispered to me as he walked towards the girl, took the champagne flute from her, placed it on the small table and wrapped her head gingerly with a silk veil which covered her hair and neck.

“Let’s get going, you must be very hungry.” He didn’t wait for me to speak as he walked out of the office, arm in arm with the former beauty queen. Closing the door behind him, he seemed to be in a hurry to please the former beauty queen, than any other person in the building. He pulled out an envelope from inside his suit and gave it to the receptionist, who received it with thanks.

“I’ll call my personal doctor…just tell him you had an accident,” he told her while inspecting her face, as I handed the key to him. He turned to face his secrMarine Brothers Societyry who’d been standing since he came out of his office, and instructed her to tidy up his office, especially his champagne bottle and flutes. He paused with his hand on the door knob and reminded Miss Florence to turn off all electrical appliances. I walked towards the elevator, paused for the couple behind me to catch up, before I pressed the button to open the door. We all entered the elevator and stood inside quietly, as it brought us down to the reception hall. We stepped out and faced some stone-faced guards whom I’d been ‘exercising’ with some moments ago. They greeted Timothy in winced tones and gave me an angry stare while we walked towards the exit.

“Don’t worry about my friend here, he was just… excited and misunderstood. You boys would be getting three times your salary for the stress you all went through.” They cheered and applauded his last statement, as a hefty, shaven headed man, more than six feet tall, opened the door and led us to the car.

“When are we going to see again?” Timothy asked the former beauty queen.

“I don’t know baby, we got to round up my charity programmes in the West and also, the meeting with the first ladies from the Northern States…” He stopped abruptly and planted a kiss on her lips, as I looked at a black Mercedes Benz limousine parked beside us. I entered first and sat on a side seat behind the driver’s seat, while Timothy and his girl entered the back seat and began to whisper to themselves. Before he shut the door, Timothy instructed his bodyguard to drive to an expensive restaurant on Nnamdi Azikiwe road. Less than ten minutes later, the driver parked in front of a large one storey restaurant.

“Just a minute angel, let me go inside and get us something to chow…hot, spicy…like you.” Timothy whispered to his girl. I alighted from the limousine, and while buttoning my suit, Timothy and his bodyguard hurried towards me as we all entered the restaurant. Inside I asked him to get me anything he felt I would love to eat. When he was through, he handed over everything he bought to his bodyguard, and told him he’ll catch up with him.

“I’m not going to ask you about your seriousness, but what I’d ask is what time is convenient for…the initiation?” He asked me with both hands in his pockets.

“Anytime next week.”

“Okay with me, I’ll inform the goddess then…she’ll decide on the next step.” We walked to the exit, as he collected my G.S.M phone number and handed me a complimentary card. Inside the limousine, he handed me one of the large food packs he’d purchased, with two canned drinks in a white nylon bag, as the limousine headed for Benjamin Opara road.

“You’ll get a call from me any time next week…bye,” he bade me farewell alongside the former beauty queen, whose voice was a little more than a whisper, while Timothy’s bodyguard shut the door behind me. He got in swiftly into the car, after which the limousine melted into the darkness. I clutched my takeaway meal and trudged to my sister’s apartment, while looking around. Throughout my meeting with Timothy, I was surprised that he never even bothered to ask me how I knew about of his membership with the Marine Brothers Society cult. Thirty minutes later, I relaxed in my sister’s living room, with a toothpick in my mouth when my phone rang.

My heart skipped a beat when I saw the strange number displayed on the screen. I answered it and was relieved to hear my sister’s voice. She informed me that she would be arriving on Sunday. I shrugged as I picked up the remote control and changed the television a music channel. The moment she dropped the phone atop the television, Dr Mike Uzochukwu, came and stood behind her, as they looked outside the window observing the scanty street.

“Tell me why you prefer Gombe Jewel Hotel,” she asked her pot-bellied lover, who also doubled as an executive director in Zahari bank.

“It’s not as if I love Gombe Jewel Hotel, I just love…chilling in Abuja, you know, easing off the stress.” She left him and headed for the light switch, when he held the base of the towel near her left arm and pulled it off. He was surprised that she didn’t even pause or look alarmed at what he just did, but rather switched off the light and pulled him towards the large bed.

“Can you call your brother again and tell him you’ll be coming on…Monday.” He pleaded with her, as Boma pushed him onto the large bed and slowly moved her right forefinger down her cleavage.

“Shh, I want to ease your stress once and for all.” She whispered in the darkness, and laid on top him.

It was a very cold Saturday morning in my sister’s apartment as I quickly dressed up, to head for the bank – Access Bank at Agip Junction. I intended to withdraw part of the five hundred thousand naira I still had left. I knew sooner or later, the clinic would be demanding payment for all pending medical expenses. The time was 8:17 while checking my appearance in the mirror. Walking to the main door after switching off the ceiling fan, my right hand was on the door knob and was about to turn it when my phone began to ring. I stepped back into the dining room before answering it, as nervousness took over my whole being. The voice at the other end was that of the nurse who’d given me the Bible, but she didn’t sound so cheerful this time around.

“Good morning,” I stammered.

“Good morning Mr Tonye, I believe you know who you’re speaking with?”

“Yes, the nurse who’s been taking care of my mother…”

“I’m very sorry to inform you that you mother passed on at 6am this morning…your attention is needed immediately…”

I ended the call abruptly and walked out of the apartment. Less than fifteen minutes later, I was at the clinic talking with an elderly doctor who sympathised with me, before proceeding to brief me on the outstanding medical expenses. When he was through, I walked out of the clinic and headed for the nearest ATM, and came back with enough money to settle the medical expenses.

“I intend to cremate her remains.”

“When do you intend to take her corpse for cremation?”

“Today…everything would be done today.” I got the address of a reputable undertaker downtown from the hospital, after which I thanked him and left. While I was away, my mother’s body was well taken care of – her hair was put in order while her wedding ring was removed on my instructions. I arrived more than three hours later with a black Mercedes Benz station wagon, whose model I didn’t bother to check and a brown coffin. After all the formalities, my mother’s corpse was placed inside the brown coffin, onward to the crematorium.

“Here’s her wedding ring sir,” the elderly doctor spoke as he handed her wedding ring to me.

“Please be strong, I know it’s not easy…” I cut him short and peered inside the coffin and soon realised why I’d been presented with such a massive bill. Apart from the work done on her face and hair, the black suit which my mother wore was adorned with an expensive brooch, and a clip joining the other part. I bid the clinic staff farewell as the station wagon proceeded to the crematorium at Trans Amadi. ‘She finally had peace at last,’ I thought. Less than thirty minutes later, I waited patiently in a small hall that resembled a shrine, as the cremains of a man was gathered in a small ceramic container, and handed over to his son. While they gathered his cremains, I hurried to their shop outside and purchased a beautiful gold and purple vase, before handing it to an attendant.

When my mother’s remains was about to be ferried into the furnace, I was asked if I desired anything ‘special’ in the procedure. I was surprised at first, but soon declined, and instructed them to proceed with the cremation. While the cremation took place, I walked up to the cashier and paid the stipulated fees. I came back to the hall, where my nostrils picked up a strange smell. I was trying to fathom what the smell was, or what caused it when I received a text message from Boma, wishing me a happy birthday. I’d been so occupied to the extent that I’d forgotten my own twenty-seventh birthday. What a tragedy to have my mother die, and have her ashes sprinkled on my birthday.

That Marine Brothers Society goddess would definitely pay for this; it was just a matter of time, I swore silently. I was about to call Boma to thank her, when a slim man walked up to me with the vase I’d purchased, placed it on a stool beside my seat, bowed and walked away. I called Boma soon afterwards, thanked her for remembering my birthday and informed her about our mother’s death. I also informed her about the cremation, after which there was a pause followed by sobs and crying at the other end. It began to drizzle as I walked out of the building and waited for a taxi cab.    

“Abonemma Water Front,” I instructed the elderly taxi driver, as I sat in the backseat with my vase. It was 2:14pm as the driver sped towards my destination. I sat quietly and thought about my late mother, who’d died at fifty-eight, nowhere near the biblical threescore and ten years she always preached about. Tranquillity was the only thing I desired at the moment, but this was impossible due to the persistent ringing of my phone, courtesy of my sister. I imagined how bereaved she’d be, and unable to believe the bad news. The next moment, as the taxi cab stopped at my destination, I switched off my phone and paid the driver before alighting. The entire place was no different from an average ghetto or slum, due to the number of wooden shanties everywhere, known as ‘batcher’. I took a clear path through the shanties and stopped with the vase in my arms, when I stood some few metres from the body of water before me.

I took a deep breath and rubbed my eyes, as the wind carried all sorts of things in all directions. I moved forward a little, poured a good amount of the cremains on my right palm, and sprinkled it almost at the same time. People looked curiously at me and imagined what I was doing. The next moment, I began to pour out copious amounts of her cremains, while the breeze blew it in several directions. When the vase became empty, I flung it into the water with all my might. My last action seemed to halt the movement of the wind, as I turned back and slowly began to walk to the main road, with both hands in my pockets. I stopped when my fingers touched my late mother’s wedding ring, while a feeling of hate and resentment for my late father gradually formed within me. I held up the ring to my face, turned round and threw it in the direction I’d sprinkled my late mother’s cremains.