Olaedo was not from a rich home. In fact, his father was a poor palm wine tapper who met his untimely death just a few months after Olaedo was born.
Not withstanding, one could say Olaedo grew up with a silver spoon. He had a wealthy godmother, who took it upon herself to see Olaedo through school.
After his biological mother died when he was three years old, Olaedo’s godmother immediately brought him to Paris where he grew up.
He grew up a happy child amongst her children. There were numerous times when he forgot that his godmother wasn’t his real mother. Well, his problems began when he turned seventeen. Strange day-mares, if they can be called so, became his daily bread. As he sat in his philosophy and logic class one sunny afternoon, he fell into a queer trance in which he saw himself walking in a woodland. It seemed he knew the woods so well as he could easily find his way. Soon, he stumbled upon the body of an old man lying on the ground, covered in his own pool of blood.
‘My son! My son! Help me.’
The old man stretched out his arm towards him. Just as the old man was about to grab his shirt Olaedo was yanked back into reality by his seatmate who gave him a tap on the back, informing him that the class had been concluded fifteen minutes earlier.
Olaedo quickly wiped the sweat forming on his forehead, picked up his bag and headed home.
For days, the same trance-like dream kept recurring, giving him restless days and sleepless nights.
He confided in his childhood best friend, Papito, who advised him to see a fortune teller about it.
Olaedo initially declined the idea, reasoning that his Catholic doctrines forbade such contacts. But as the trances kept on coming he saw himself in the same woods. Sometimes a young woman would appear to him and other times he would see a younger version of himself, dressed in a kaftan. It worried him so much that he had to convince Papito that he was truly ready to see the fortune teller.
The night before his journey to the fortune tellers abode, he had a dream in which a he saw a young girl. She had a short lappa tightly wrapped around her waist, and another of the same fabric tied around her chest and knotted behind, leaving her navel visible. She had white and black chalked designs all over her face, her lips painted black. She spoke in a language Olaedo could not recognize, but strangely enough, he understood everything she said. She was warning him about an impending danger, but before he had an opportunity to ask what danger it was, his alarm rang, waking him up.
They made their way into the forest where the fortune teller resided.
Olaedo had expected to see an old looking scarecrow -like woman as the fortune teller, but what he saw amazed him.
The fortune teller was actually a young handsome man of about twenty five years of age. His eyes beamed of a turquoise colour, curly brown hair and he had lips like jasper.
The three sat around a square plastic table. The young fortune teller bothered not to ask why they had come. He asked Olaedo to place his right hand on the crystal ball, he placed his hand a top Olaedo’s , and immediately, his eyes flipped white.
Both Papito and Olaedo were literally petrified. Soon, the curtains began to sway to the movement of the wind, growls from unseen animals were heard.
‘They want you!’ The young fortune teller hissed.
‘They need you! They are coming for you and I will deliver you to them.’
Immediately, he pounced on Olaedo like a hungry wolf, Papito had long ran away from the house, leaving Olaedo helpless
‘Who wants me! Why do they want me? Somebody help me! You’re insane!’ Olaedo cried out in vain.
With each passing second the fortune teller seemed to grow stronger, tearing Olaedo’s shirt apart, scratching him and trying to drag him into a dark room.
With a streak of luck, he slipped out of the fortune tellers grip, like a toad slipping out of a cobra’s grip. He made his way to the door and bolted out like a monkey being chased by a lion.
As if it wasn’t enough, he heard whispers of his name being carried by the wind. No matter where he ran to, he could hear his name in the wind. Tired of running in the woods, he decided to take a short nap under an Oak tree. Glad that he had finally found a resting place , he slowly fell asleep, having a nightmare-free sleep.
Half asleep and half awake, the smell of sulphur wafted into his nose. He slowly opened his eyes and gasped at the sight of the three headed Python before him.
‘Boohoo! You can’t hide anymore, we’ve found you.’ They gave out an evil chuckle.
He slumped.
Mirabelle Morah
