THE SECOND SIGHT
Chapter 64
JASMINE MEANS HER
I turned, still on my knees, and grabbed her around the wai-st.
I pressed the side of my head ti-ghtly, violently, desperately against her tummy. I was trembling badly, and her cool fingers tou-ched my face and ne-ck, and then she took my head and pressed it gently against her warmth.
NICOLE
(gently)
It’s okay, Yaw. Everything is fine.
I held her for a long time until my heart stopped pounding and my shivering stopped, and then I got to my feet slowly.
I couldn’t look at her, not without her seeing just how de-eperly I had come to care for her.
I reached out, patted her right cheek tenderly.
NICOLE
(softly)
Yaw –
BOAT
(gently)
No, Nicole, not now!
I said as gently as I could, and hurried away from her.
I went straight to my room and locked the door, and then I did the most sanest thing my heart was telling me to do.
I knelt by the side of my bed, clasped my hands in front of me, closed my eyes… and prayed as I had never prayed before.
I opened my heart out to the Almighty Creator above.
I poured out my fears, my soul, my wants, my weaknesses.
And then, quite exhausted, I fell unto the bed and slept.
But there was a calm warmth in my heart since that day.
Bonner filled in the days by teaching me how to use the awesome power I was suddenly endowed with. After the ma-ssive shock had worn off, and after my soul-baring prayer, I wearily accepted the fact that I was different, and that somehow my life had altered its course. Nothing would be the same for me again.
I could not even live a normal life.
I didn’t want to dwell too much on what would happen to me because I knew that somehow, despite the power I had, my life would never be completely happy. I was limited by it, and would spend every single day of my life trying to live with it, to control it.
The fact of the matter was that I didn’t believe any human should be given that much power. In itself it was a lethal weapon that could lead to self-destruction.
I was beginning to un-derstand why so many Unblinds had fallen by giving in to the most basic of sins and thus allowing holes in their otherwise impene-trable armours.
We all knew the Legion had come for Anderson, and had been scared off by my presence. At least that was how Bonner put it, but I didn’t buy that completely.
I had seen those eyes, and they hadn’t looked scared to me. That vile thing had been prepared for a confrontation, and somehow I knew de-eper down within me that soon it would turn its fury on me and try to usurp my influence and then move in for the kill.
Two weeks dragged by after the deaths of Andoh and Bruno.
My days were spent always close to Anderson, but it wasn’t a particularly satisfactory arrangement for me because Bonner told me that if the Legion was scared enough it could leave Anderson alone for weeks, months or even years, and when I was not around it would come back.
I didn’t want to spend ages as the spiritual guard of a pastor who had lost his mettle. I could grow old just shepherding him around, and I didn’t like that.
I reminded Bonner of the demon which had tracked me down to my hotel room in Jackson Peak. I told him how somehow I had been guided by the strange power within me to track it down to Samantha Gaisie and dealt with it.
CHARLES BONNER
(quizzically)
And your point is?
BOAT
(calmly)
I think I should go out there and look for the Legion. I think it is pretty useless following Pastor Anderson around. You said it yourself. The Legion could be out of Portville right now, not intending to come back pretty soon. If I do have the powers you’ve been espousing, then I think I can track it down and put all of us out of this misery.
CHARLES BONNER
True enough. I’ve thought about that myself, but right now the congregation needs Paul. He has to prepare for the Christmas conventions. He needs to see them, and receive them when they visit. For the last couple of months they have had to do with junior pastors, and already we’ve heard tales of their impatience and their worries. You kill a church that way, son, if you allow the flock to thirst and hunger for a leader. No, please stay with Paul. He’s only confident when you’re around, a sad fact, I know, but that’s how it is. You have to be patient. Things will work out fine. If, and this is a strong if , mind you, the Legion does not put in an appearance by the time the conventions are over, you can go after it.
BOAT
But do you think the Legion could come before that?
His gaze was direct and strong and unwavering.
CHARLES BONNER
(calmly)
It hasn’t left, son. It is still here. It will make its stance here because it sensed your fear the last time you met. It is stalking you now.
And that was that.
It wasn’t really a surprise to me because de-eper down I knew it, and had unconsciously accepted that inevitability. I was rapidly and unequivocally approaching that final cataclysmic explosion … and I was horrified.
And then there was Nicole.
The feel of my face against her flat, firm belly had been like an indelible mark on my face.
If the days were bearable it was because she was there. I loathed the mornings when she had to go to work, and craved the evenings when she returned home.
Sometimes she came straight to the church where I would be with her father, and sometimes I met her at home.
There were times when she was unreasonably late – when I a-ssumed she was with that incorrigible Andrew Okai – and I would fret with childish jealousy.
I had almost come clean with her one day when we had been together in the garden, one sweet tangible night when I had almost crushed her against me and confessed my inner cravings to her.
I had felt a little awkward in her presence, with her so close and me remembering how soft she had been, how lovely, how so ethereal she looked.
She had taken me out briefly on some evenings, showing me some of the delightful sights of Portville. She even took me out one weekend to some of her favourite sp-ots where she had frequented as a child.
One night, after everybody had gone to bed, I had been feeling stressed out.
I had tossed in bed restlessly, my soul a reluctant spirit that refused to be stilled. Finally I had gotten up, pulled on a pair of jeans and a cardigan and walked out.
I was now in the room Andoh had occu-pied, which was almost directly opposite the master bedroom of the Andersons.
It had been Bonner’s arrangement, and we had all accepted it. Three doors down the hallway was Nicole’s bedroom. I could see faint golden light seeping un-der her door unto the dark hallway.
I wondered if she was still up or had fallen asleep without turning off her lights.
I had wandered downstairs and found myself finally in the garden.
I entered one of the summer huts and sat down on a comfortable chair. It was a huge circular cane chair with a soft hollowed cushion in it. I stretched out, and as the cold seeped into me and the air caressed my face I found myself relaxing, my anxiety melting slowly.
I closed my eyes and found sleep lulling me into a comfortable place. I allowed myself to be caressed, welcoming the enveloping cocoon until …
Jasmine … the scent of jasmine.
Her .
I fought my way up from the nice place my brain was now dwelling in, and opened my eyes drowsily.
She was standing there, wearing a huge latex coat that hid whatever she was wearing un-derneath. The garden bulb cast a soft glow on her awesome features and as I stared up at her she looked like an angel.
We stayed like that for a long time; she standing there staring at me wordlessly, me lying there and gawking.
BOAT
(softly, gently, pa-ssionately)
You’re beautiful.
Her expression was inscrutable, and for a while longer she stood there staring down at me.
Finally she moved forward, dragged one of the cane chairs next to mine, took off her coat and sank down gently into it.
She was also in jeans and a heavy sweater. She curled up in the chair, just inches from me
THE SECOND SIGHT
Chapter 66
A TIME TO BEG
That was exactly what was happening now.
I was filled with revulsion, and I wanted to drag Mrs. Shirley Okai off my face, but once my hand clutched her arm something terrible happened. I knew she was aged, and I knew her skin was leathery, despite the care she had taken of it, and all her elaborate make-up.
The skin I tou-ched wasn’t crimpled at all … it was suddenly smooth, soft, silky! The li-ps on mine were no longer leathery and rou-gh; they were full, luscious, dripping with sweetness.
Suddenly I felt my mind going to a blissful place, my senses being dulled.
It was magical, the sweetness I was feeling. I knew somewhere de-eper within me that it was all wrong, that it couldn’t be happening.
But it was.
And I was enjoying every single second of it. Suddenly instead of pushing her away I wanted more, and my hands roved her skin, delighting in her silky feel.
She was mo-an ing now – no, purring, like a Nau-ghty contented cat – and she was moving round over the top of the bench.
No, I was dragging her, pulling her over the bench and unto my lap-s…
Oh, Lord, what is happening? This can’t be right!
I opened my eyes, but the face I stared into wasn’t the face of an old hag. This was the face of a fresh beauty, a budding vir-gin , the most desirable woman I had ever seen, and I wanted – no,
needed – her.
She was everything my heart craved for.
MRS. OKAI
(crooning lustfully)
Take me, Yaw, take me now!
Oh, Lord, Lord, Lord … save me!
One of my arms was supporting her behind the ne-ck, and the other was gripping a full brea$t, the nip*le taut un-derneath my fingers. She arched herself up, her arms going around my ne-ck, her li-ps smashing against mine.
I ki-ss ed her violently, ravaging her li-ps, my free hand desperately seeking her curves.
ANDREW
(angrily)
Mother! What’s the meaning of this?
His voice was a whiplash, filled with horror and revulsion, bitter and absolutely angry
It broke throu-ghthe clouds, dissipating the madness.
My li-ps came off hers as she tried desperately to hold on, to keep me trapped. I saw her for what she was then – an old hag!
The bile rose up in me as I threw her off me.
She fell to the soft ground with a little cry – no, it wasn’t a cry, it was a hiss.
She lay on the ground and the expression on her face was one of pure malice as she ba-red her teeth and hissed at me, her fingers like talons now, digging angrily into the gra-ss.
I bounded to my feet and found Andrew Okai and Nicole standing just inches away from the bench.
Andrew looked absolutely maddened, but the look on Nicole’s face was absolutely terrible. Her eyes glared at me, and in their depths I saw how low I had sunk in her estimation.
ANDREW
(furiously)
You stinking bas***d!
He was moving suddenly, rounding the bench and coming at me, his right fist drawn back.
My mind was still encased in that terrible confusion.
Warning signals were buzzing in my head, but for a moment I was so disoriented that I didn’t know what was going on.
I side-stepped Andrew’s blow effortlessly and slapped him ha-rd across the face. He fell on the bench and rolled unto his mother, who pushed him away violently.
MRS. OKAI
(spitefully)
You meddling little fool!
She glared at her son as she tried to get to her feet.
That did it.
Meddling fool … diversion!
Paul Anderson!
I spun away from them, ignoring the hurt look on Nicole’s face as I raced out of the garden. Somewhere in my confused mind I un-derstood what had happened.
Somehow Mrs. Shirley Okai was mixed up in the entire sordid affair. An old hag who could transform herself, somehow, into a desirable little seductress, she had kept me occu-pied with her, whilst something went on somewhere, something evil that needed me out of the way.
BOAT
(anxiously)
Oh, sh*t, sh*t, sh*t!
I ran hard.
I rudely pushed people out of my path.
I knew that Anderson was in trouble, very great trouble.
I burst into the administration block of the church and found myself at a large reception area. There were a few people here, grouped together and eating rice out of thin disposable packs.
I grabbed an elderly woman by the shoulders quite rou-ghly, causing her to drop her little white plastic fork, her face suddenly frightened.
BOAT
(harshly)
Pastor Anderson! Where’s he? Where can I find him?
She pointed toward a closed door, one of several leading out of the reception area. Embossed on a golden plate were the words: Offices of The Chairman.
I threw the door open and found myself in a wide hallway. There were a lot of gla-ss and less wood here. Ahead was a gla-ss office from which a group of men with the collars of the clergy were emerging.
I raced toward them. One of them, a junior pastor, was a familiar face. I remembered being introduced to him by Nicole. Seems he was much respected and had a lot of spiritual gifts.
He was being pegged as a future Chairman of the church.
BOAT
(striving to be calm)
Excuse me, where can I find Pastor Anderson?
He pointed toward the closed gla-ss door on which was another inscription: Chairman Paul Anderson.
YOUNG PASTOR
He’s in consultation with a poor widow. It is not a good idea to interrupt now, Mr. Boat.
I nodded at him, my face sick, trying to remain calm.
BOAT
(in a rush)
This is urgent, believe me. Wouldn’t take more than a few seconds.
The stench! Lord, the stench!
I could smell it all around me. It was bad, choking me so that I found it ha-rd to breathe. I wanted to throw up, and I bunched the muscles of my stomach ti-ghtly.
The stench of the Legion!
It was here!
The faces of the young pastor and his colleagues reflected their disapproval but I ignored them and moved forward. I slid the door open, entered and closed it gently.
I was in a wide corridor with several closed doors on the right side, and one at the end. Alone now, I raced toward the giant door at the end of the corridor, grabbed the handle and violently swung it inward.
The room beyond was huge and spacious. It was luxuriously furnished, and exuded an atmosphere of warmth and peace.
But there was nothing peaceful about the scene confronting me.
Pastor Anderson was on his knees, hands clamped together in supplication, tears of anguish falling down his face, his terror so complete that he could ba-rely move a muscle.
Advancing slowly and deliberately toward him, was the black-clad figure of the young widow. Clutched in her right hand was a long-bladed ugly knife.
WIDOW
(hissing furiously)
BEG FOR MERCY, YOU cvnt!
But her voice wasn’t a woman’s voice.
It was a rumbling, resonant voice filled with evil. A voice that belonged to sewers.
PAUL ANDERSON
(imploringly)
Please, oh please! Spare me, please, spare me, I beg of you! I beg of you, please!
Anderson wheezed as his tears fell heavier, all semblance of decorum and honour gone from him, leaving him a pathetic and weak excuse for a man.
The thing was all puffed up, full of its own power and the sight of the whining man of God at its feet. It was enjoying every little ticking second of the moment, and it was so happy that it failed to realize immediately that I was in the room, just behind it.
Fury!
It exploded in my brea$t, and before I knew what I was doing I flew across the room.
At the last instant it finally became aware of me. It swivelled round … an ugly face, eyes blazing crimson, and on her forehead was the mark of the beast, dripping pure blood.
666!
But it was scared.
It was terrified!
It hissed, barring serrated teeth at me.
BATTLEFIELD AGAIN
I smashed a fist into its face. The blow drove it all the way across the room.
It took down a desk, three heavy chairs, and a flower pot. It smashed against the wall, and fell down, the knife skittering across the soft rug on the floor.
I was aware that I was glowing brilliantly, my for-ce-field sizzling with divine energy.
I was aware too, of a different kind of power moving throu-ghmy veins, lending unrestrained malice to my craving muscles to hurt that thing.
I rushed forward, my body trembling with the anger I was feeling. That black-clad figure was mo-an ing. I reached down, grabbed a handful of long black hair, and yanked the face up.
My hand was drawn back, ready to crash down on her –
its – face again, or rip out its eyes if need be.
A clear face marked by a badly split mouth where I had hit her, stared up at me. No mark of the beast, no crimson eyes.
The Legion had fled.
The woman mo-an ed with great pain and starred at me with horror. Her li-ps opened as she gathered air into her lungs to scream. I clamped a hand across her li-ps, cutting off her scream.
She was struggling violently now, trying to bite me.
BOAT
(bitterly)
Hush, it’s okay!
I whispered bitterly as I looked at the open window.
A huge black dirty crow was sitting on the sill … and its eyes blazed a terrible crimson.
We stared at each other with mutual hatred, and then it appeared to fall backward off the sill, and a moment later it flapped its way into the skies beyond.
The widow was still struggling, still trying to bite me.
BOAT
(angrily)
Be still, gaddemn it!
I grated out angrily, bitterly, and she became very still.
I could hear pounding on the door, and I quickly pulled the woman to her feet, dragging her quickly toward the door, making sure I shielded her confused eyes from the mo-an ing form of the pastor on the floor.
She struggled at first, feebly, but my hand ti-ghtened on her arm as I pulled her along. I threw the door open and found all the pastors grouped there, just like vermin coming in to feed.
They gazed at me with horrified eyes as I propelled the woman out and pushed her toward the young pastor.
She stopped and I saw her raising her hand to her li-ps, feeling her mouth.
There was still a lot of blood around her li-ps… but the torn and shattered wound my fist had opened on her li-ps was gone!
I had clamped my hand across her mouth, and her wounds had healed!
Her eyes came up, incredulous, shocked, disbelieving!
She tried to speak as she tou-ched her li-ps with wonder, ignoring the probing questions from the young pastor and his colleagues.
I stared at her, and I loathed her for whatever sins she was indulged in that had enabled her to be possessed and used to almost destroy a good man.
The young pastor quickly brou-ght out a huge white handkerchief and wiped the woman’s li-ps clean of blood, and he stared at her with uncomprehending eyes.
YOUNG PASTOR
What happened?
BOAT
Pastor Anderson wants you to take care of her. That blood is mine. Fell down and something sharp cut me. I covered her mouth because she was screaming when she came out of a trance and saw me bleeding.
YOUNG PASTOR
But Pastor Anderson … I mean, is he okay? We thought we heard screams. A man’s screams.
BOAT
(forcing a smile)
Everything is fine. It was the lady screaming, I told you, not a man. A very bad and regrettable incident, I know. But please, would you take care of her? Something important came up, and I’m afraid Pastor Anderson doesn’t want to be disturbed now. Everything’s fine.
They exchanged puzzled glances and it was quite clear that they did not believe me. I thought of going back inside anyway and shutting the door in their faces, but just then Bonner appeared from behind them, slowly and painfully moving forward with the aid of his walking-stick.
They parted for him, and when he was close enough to me he stopped, and his old eyes roved my face.
CHARLES BONNER
(quietly)
t happened again.
I looked at him with many emotions raging throu-ghme. For a wild moment I almost screamed at him, and I had to fight the sudden urge to lash out at him with my fists.
BOAT
(ti-ghtly)
You better get inside.
I dragged out, my jaws working with the depth of my anger … a fury that was borne out of great fear.
Also read – The Second Sight – Episode 54
He turned and spoke calmly to the pastors.
CHARLES BONNER
(calmly)
Please go and attend to Mrs. Bediako. We’ll take it from here. Thank you very much.
His calm demeanour and gentle voice calmed them, and slowly they turned and hurried away; the young pastor’s arm was across the widow’s shoulders, and I smiled bleakly.
CHARLES BONNER
(harshly)
Go on, boy, open the door.
We entered the room again, and I locked the door behind us.
CHARLES BONNER
(shocked)
Oh, dearsweet Jesus!
Bonner whispered with great shock as he beheld the spectacle in the room.
Anderson was curled up in the foetal position on the floor, and he was weeping silently, violently, his body trembling.
His arms were ti-ghtly drawn up against his face, his head pushed very low into his che-st. He looked like a young boy who was afraid to watch a horror movie. His legs je-rked spasmodically as he continued to mo-an de-eper within his throat.
It was pathetic, but there was nothing I could do for him. No one could do anything for him now. He was totally gone, and I shut my eyes wearily as I sank into an armchair, not wishing to see him, or even hear him.
Somehow every little whimper that came from him was like a nail being driven into me as the feeling of guilt a-ssailed me.
I had failed him, and by that I had taken the last vestige of pride and strength he possessed.
I had reduced him to a fumbling weakling, and I knew that until I found the Legion and dealt with it, Pastor Paul Anderson would never be any use for himself … or anybody else for that matter.
CHARLES BONNER
(numbly)
What happened here?
I glared up at him, and when I spoke my voice was not respectable at all.
BOAT
(hotly)
What the fuc-k didn’t happen? Everything bloody happened, okay? Some serious sh*t happened here, and you could’ve seen how well I handled it! Please what the hell is going on here? How do I deal with this kind of sh*t? Damn it, old man, do you know I nearly killed that widow? Oh, yes, I did! I hit her ha-rd enough to break an elephant’s ne-ck, if indeed elephants have ne-cks! And you know something … I almost hit her a second time, and that would’ve killed her if I hadn’t noticed in time that the damn demons had left her body!
Bonner was still staring down at Pastor Anderson, and his whole body had become very rigid.
CHARLES BONNER
(acidly)
Fury is a useless tool to employ now, son, It will warp your judgments and lead to your fall, so you better learn to control your damn fury! You’re new to your gift, so don’t expect to be a master of every damn situation. You’re learning, and all you have to go on is your instincts, so cut out the emotional bullshit and tell me what exactly happened here.
His words not only startled me, they also instantly doused the burning flames in my che-st.
CHARLES BONNER
(calmer)
Come here, son, help me get Paul unto this sofa, and then you can tell me what’s plaguing you.
I made him stand aside and dragged the shivering pastor unto the sofa alone.
Pastor Bonner sat on a high-backed designed chair by the window.
The chair was like a miniature throne, and it was very attra-ctive and yet oddly repulsive, as if it didn’t belong to the room, as if it was looking down at the rest of the furniture with a secret sneer.
Bonner listened to me without interrupting, keeping his magnetic eyes fixed unwaveringly on me.
When I finished he was quiet for a very long time, and then he ru-bbed an unsteady hand down his face.
CHARLES BONNER
(sadly)
“Shirley Okai! Something always struck me as being funny about her. It is all very strange. Is that what is bothering you, your inability to read her?
To be continued…