Stranger's Mark III
Just one visit, one. That is all it would take. That is what the Manini said. Manini, the head of witch doctors, has to be right, always.
Just that... he thinks.
He stands and gazes like a stowaway utopist who finally has sighted his paradise land and now languishes in the desire to reach it, feel it. But would he be made be made whole? He starts to forge ahead.
Just as expected, he feels a rising in the pit of his stomach, an odd sensation that has become rather frequent in the past eight months or so, it is really nauseating. He slows down to a halt as the feeling reaches his chest, drawing up a cough, a dry cough. He coughs it out, clutching his chest in both hands to ease the choking squeeze in his diaphragm. It is usually short lived and ends with a slimy discharge. He spews it without a second thought. He doesn't need to see it to k now how much blood goes with it. The doctor said this is not right, but he should go to hell with his antiretroviral therapy that doesn't even work. He doesn't like taking them anyway, and wouldn't ever after this visit. He wipes his swollen mouth with a practiced care pain has taught. The painful bump had only a few days ago started like a tiny pimple on his lower lip and now has swollen his entire jaw with some kind of careless impunity. The Manini said all that will go, that it's only the attack of the evil spirits which needs cleansing.
"I must get there," he whispers to himself. But he needs to stalk else he'd draw attention to himself, or worse rout his target, so he edges into the shadow of the mud wall and sneaks on housing the target. It is quite dark a night; darkness and secret are partners, the Manini had told him.
He breathes a sigh, it isn't resignation, it isn't relief, but it does something to his mind he just couldn't understand so he waits. He has to make sure it strikes 12:00 am on the dot before he ventures out like the Manini instructed.
He undresses and makes sure he has nothing on, that is an order from Manini; he must be the way he came into this world. He makes sure too no water or food has gone through him for two day because, Manini said, that would ensure the efficacy of the ritual, the good spirits that were offended would be appeased and once again work with him, and he would forever be cleansed. That is all he wants, this stranger's mark makes him really feel like he needs more than cleansing. For two years now he has watched his health steadily deteriorate and his strength feels twenty years spent ahead of him. He knows his wife has the mark too, thanks to him, but he feels no remorse though she is pregnant with their third child, who won't be safe either. But she caused it. She knows he doesn't love her and she tied him down with that first baby...that boy that doesn't even look like him, that baby that, that...
He allows a long sigh so he doesn't lose more strength, but this time he knows it is his contempt for her, and hate for everything that represents her. He would have just disappeared for good, just that the Manini said he has to go back and make love to her once he is through with this. Anyway there will be a new start after that, with this woman he has always loved. But he has to get healed first.
He hates his doctor for lying to him all these while and having him tied to a hospital bed and poisioning him with that therapy. He should have known that is not for him. How foolish he was not to have come for home grown remedy, instead he had those liars telling him it would be fine, and now they say it would have been if he came earlier, what a joke with his life! They just wouldn't admit they have no answer. Now who will beat the wisdom of the Manini, one old man hidden in some remote village? And all he has to do is pay this little amount...oh, hmm...hmm.
He hits fresh odor of urine and dung, he summons his lungs to resist but the stench is very much intense. Shit is shit though grains grow better on it, and now his solution stands now on it. He slows down at a small door on the wall, and pushes carefully, not knowing what else beside his target waits. The creak of the pen's wooden gate is not loud enough to disturb any one's sleep. Manini promised he'd make everyone sleep deep, he'd surely sent the spirits to that effect, because that he paid handsomely for too.
He makes out the images, the Manini told him what to go for. The stench in here is no good, huh! Manini said it won't be good. So he strengthens his mind. He needs courage of spirit to do the real act, but his feet begin to shiver. He doesn't know if it right to have erection before he holds onto it or when holds it. The flock scurry off his way, they don't expect anyone at about now, never did. He makes out a female, and reaches out; says what Manini said he should say, and...
...mheeeeeee! The ewe bleats. Another costly mistake.
Just that... he thinks.
He stands and gazes like a stowaway utopist who finally has sighted his paradise land and now languishes in the desire to reach it, feel it. But would he be made be made whole? He starts to forge ahead.
Just as expected, he feels a rising in the pit of his stomach, an odd sensation that has become rather frequent in the past eight months or so, it is really nauseating. He slows down to a halt as the feeling reaches his chest, drawing up a cough, a dry cough. He coughs it out, clutching his chest in both hands to ease the choking squeeze in his diaphragm. It is usually short lived and ends with a slimy discharge. He spews it without a second thought. He doesn't need to see it to k now how much blood goes with it. The doctor said this is not right, but he should go to hell with his antiretroviral therapy that doesn't even work. He doesn't like taking them anyway, and wouldn't ever after this visit. He wipes his swollen mouth with a practiced care pain has taught. The painful bump had only a few days ago started like a tiny pimple on his lower lip and now has swollen his entire jaw with some kind of careless impunity. The Manini said all that will go, that it's only the attack of the evil spirits which needs cleansing.
"I must get there," he whispers to himself. But he needs to stalk else he'd draw attention to himself, or worse rout his target, so he edges into the shadow of the mud wall and sneaks on housing the target. It is quite dark a night; darkness and secret are partners, the Manini had told him.
He breathes a sigh, it isn't resignation, it isn't relief, but it does something to his mind he just couldn't understand so he waits. He has to make sure it strikes 12:00 am on the dot before he ventures out like the Manini instructed.
He undresses and makes sure he has nothing on, that is an order from Manini; he must be the way he came into this world. He makes sure too no water or food has gone through him for two day because, Manini said, that would ensure the efficacy of the ritual, the good spirits that were offended would be appeased and once again work with him, and he would forever be cleansed. That is all he wants, this stranger's mark makes him really feel like he needs more than cleansing. For two years now he has watched his health steadily deteriorate and his strength feels twenty years spent ahead of him. He knows his wife has the mark too, thanks to him, but he feels no remorse though she is pregnant with their third child, who won't be safe either. But she caused it. She knows he doesn't love her and she tied him down with that first baby...that boy that doesn't even look like him, that baby that, that...
He allows a long sigh so he doesn't lose more strength, but this time he knows it is his contempt for her, and hate for everything that represents her. He would have just disappeared for good, just that the Manini said he has to go back and make love to her once he is through with this. Anyway there will be a new start after that, with this woman he has always loved. But he has to get healed first.
He hates his doctor for lying to him all these while and having him tied to a hospital bed and poisioning him with that therapy. He should have known that is not for him. How foolish he was not to have come for home grown remedy, instead he had those liars telling him it would be fine, and now they say it would have been if he came earlier, what a joke with his life! They just wouldn't admit they have no answer. Now who will beat the wisdom of the Manini, one old man hidden in some remote village? And all he has to do is pay this little amount...oh, hmm...hmm.
He hits fresh odor of urine and dung, he summons his lungs to resist but the stench is very much intense. Shit is shit though grains grow better on it, and now his solution stands now on it. He slows down at a small door on the wall, and pushes carefully, not knowing what else beside his target waits. The creak of the pen's wooden gate is not loud enough to disturb any one's sleep. Manini promised he'd make everyone sleep deep, he'd surely sent the spirits to that effect, because that he paid handsomely for too.
He makes out the images, the Manini told him what to go for. The stench in here is no good, huh! Manini said it won't be good. So he strengthens his mind. He needs courage of spirit to do the real act, but his feet begin to shiver. He doesn't know if it right to have erection before he holds onto it or when holds it. The flock scurry off his way, they don't expect anyone at about now, never did. He makes out a female, and reaches out; says what Manini said he should say, and...
...mheeeeeee! The ewe bleats. Another costly mistake.
jude, there is something about your way of writing that is both unique and scary. If i didn't know i would say ...
ReplyDeletehmmm
Good work, believe me.