THE SECOND SIGHT
Chapter 77
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Whatever had a beginning certainly had an end.
And, of a truth, whatever goes around, comes around.
And when I woke up Hideous was perched at the foot of the bed looking balefully at me.
You remember Hideous, don’t you?
Of course you do, that load of rotten green demon, the one with the bloated, pus-filled, worm-invaded, three-fingered, webbed hands. That vile thing with the rotted ne-ck and dripping shoulders, that same ugly and scary demon with the holed-out head and squiggly worms for brains.
The same little piece of sh*t with the busted, dripping eye.
Yes, that vile demon with the gill-like things on its ne-ck and the thousands of wriggly squirmy things on its forehead…my one-time protector who had saved me from the gun of Bob and caused that same unlucky fellow to hang himself from the broken windscreen of a truck.
Yes, Hideous was back with a big bang, perched comfortably at the foot of the bed, regarding me with that single pink eye filled with hatred and loathing.
I wasn’t much surprised, though.
I had fallen from grace, and I had fallen hard. Bonner had warned me about it, but I guessed there were times when things sort of just took a natural course, and there was nothing anybody – or
anything – could do about it.
Slowly I reached out for Jo Mintah, but of course her part of the bed was empty, and as I struggled to a sitting position and realized I was still na-ked, she emerged from the bathroom, fully-dressed in a fetching white dress, exquisitely-designed to fit her like a dream … and she was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen.
And of course she wasn’t Jo Mintah.
Her ordinary black hair was gone, replaced by a rich flowing shiny ma-ss that glittered on her shoulders. Most of her slightly altered features were gone too, and she was now sp-otting her real face, her real amazing beautiful face.
I had been right.
Josephine Mintah had disguised herself so well, helped by evil illusionary artists, no doubt. She was her true self now. All the disguised parts were gone.
She was Elaine.
My Elly!
I wasn’t much surprised here too. You remember how Jo Mintah had made me feel sometimes that I was with Elaine? Why, they were one and the same. The slightly altered features, the dark hair, had all been a grand illusion.
But the legs had been there, the great legs!
Lord, how I had enjoyed running my hands on those legs last night and cu-pping those nice bu-ttocks.
Of course I realized that somehow I had been betrayed again, and that I was in some kind of de-eper trouble.
One thing was for sure: I had obviously not lost my gift as a seer, but the powers that went with it were completely gone. I was back to the crazy days when I was a victim of their manipulations, unable to do anything to stop them.
I was no longer glowing; I had lost my for-ce-field.
Yes, I had dabbled in evil, like Akua Bonsu, the woman I had saved from Frank Styles.
Now I could see it all too clearly.
The step-by-step manipulation to alienate me from Bonner and the source of my power, the elaborated plan to plant in a Jo Mintah to complete the rest of my downfall.
And crazy, crazy me!
I had ignored Bonner’s warnings and like a docile sheep had allowed myself to be led to the guillotine.
She stared at me, and her forehead blazed out the number of the beast: 666!
Her face was beautiful with an inner happiness.
Elaine was convinced she had won me over.
The scales had now been righted, and she was no doubt convinced that we were back on course!
Her eyes roved my face, and I saw her hands balling-up. She tried to speak, but her li-ps trembled and quickly she looked away.
ANDREW
I could hear voices in the outer room, the living-room part of the suite.
Her head turned apprehensively toward the doorway, and a moment later the giant came throu-ghthe doorway, hesitated, and then fixed his hate-filled eyes on me.
Samson Basoah, of course.
You remember him too, don’t you?
Samson Basoah was father’s one-time trusted chauffeur. The man I had always known as Uncle Samson, one time even loving him more than I did my own Dad.
The same big powerful man with the ugly scar on his right cheek and the bald head. The man who had had the chamber of horrors un-der his bed.
The last time I had seen him he was holding a chloroform against my nostrils in that terrible evil ritual in the secret room beneath his bedroom.
He was dressed in an impeccable black tuxedo now, and as he entered the room his grim little eyes never left me. They were black with the depths of his hatred.
He came right up to the bed and looked down at me.
For a long time he didn’t speak, and then his jaw moved, and he leaned slightly forward and spat into my face. I felt the warm disgusting thing on my face, and I reared up in the bed, filled with a vicious fury immediately.
I was almost off the bed when he back-handed me across the face. It felt like being slammed by a moving train – he was that big, he was that strong and he was that mad.
I was slammed back into the bed, feeling the sharp pain on my face, fighting the dizziness that a-ssailed me. I felt warm liquid running down my nose, and I knew I was bleeding.
I grabbed one of the pillows and ru-bbed my face against it, wiping off the blood and the spittle.
Also read – The Second Sight – Episode 58
SAMSON
(viciously)
You stinking piece of sh*t! Look at the damn mess you made of everything! as***ole, what have you achieved apart from hastening the death of your own father?
Samson Basoah spoke throu-ghclenched teeth, his bunched-up jaws grinding so badly that I was sure he was going to vaporize them.
I sat up in bed again and smiled at him.
BOAT
At least I avoided that damn mark of the beast on your bloody forehead, you little pu-ssy!
That got to him. I didn’t know whether it was the thing about his mark or the pun about the female genitalia.
Whatever it was I saw death in his black eyes, a hatred that went beyond the soul, emanating from somewhere far nastier.
His right fist was drawn back as he rushed the bed.
This time I was expecting it, and this time I was ready for him. I swung my head away from his blow, and I could feel the power behind that punch as the air rushed past my face.
My right hand was honing in, fore and middle fingers extended, hardened, and I jabbed them ha-rd into his eyes.
I felt the spongy softness of the eyes taking the hit, and he let out a blood-curdling yowl and grabbed his face with both hands as the fiery agony no doubt knifed into his eyes.
I was off the bed in one fluid motion, and I slammed a ha-rd fist against the side of his meaty ne-ck. He went down, grabbing lamely at the bedside table.
I knew that he wasn’t out.
He was as strong as Hercules, and if I didn’t get out of there he would overpower me in a minute. I gained my feet and rushed toward the door.
Last night my clothes had come off in there, and unless Jo or Elaine or whoever she was had moved them, I expected them to be there.
I burst into the room, searching wildly, and just as my eyes fell on my clothes – they were neatly folded on a white settee – I saw movement from the balcony area of the hotel, and I looked up.
To say I froze would have been un-derstating the issue a bit.
I was absolutely paralyzed.
There was a man on the balcony alright.
He was Andrew Okai.
His trousers were black and neat, his white shirt even neater. It was open at the ne-ck, showing a bronzed che-st with tiny little hairs.
His hands were behind his back, and his black shoes glittered as he entered.
ANDREW
(with a dangerous smile)
And where do you think you’re going to, you little bas***d?
On his forehead was the dripping mark of the beast, and his eyes showed a blazing inferno – de-eper amber with little blues lic-king atop the flames.
His li-ps were co-rked to one side in a disdainful little smile.
The Legion had found a host again.
It was funny; I had pursued this group of vile demons for a long time.
There had been a time, shortly after my father’s death, when all I wanted was to meet the Legion and exact my pound of flesh. But here we were, the demons and I, and the only thing I wanted to do was flee.
I knew I couldn’t take them on now.
From the moment I came to Portville to the time I had seen a na-ked homos-exual being eaten by a bunch of vile crows, they had contrived to lead me on their own path, and by allowing myself to be sed-uce d by the Jo/Elaine woman I had let them gain the upper hand, and I was lost.
My powers were absolutely gone; hell, I wasn’t even glowing in their presence again.
I looked at my clothes, and then judged the distance to the door. Elaine had come out of the inner room, but I doubted if she would do anything to stop me.
I could hear frantic movements in there, and knew that very soon Samson Basoah would be unleashing all his fury on me.
Well damn the clothes!
Drastic situations called for drastic solutions. I would flee to the door and go out na-ked.
ANDREW
(condenscendingly)
Oh, poor, poor, Yaw! You don’t really believe it is going to be as easy as that, do you?
He spoke from the balcony, but the next moment he was standing by the door leading outside.
I whirled, baffled. I had never seen anything like it before. Before I could come to grips with what was happening he disappeared from the door again and promptly appeared on the settee, sitting sideways, legs crossed elegantly, smiling a secret pompous little smile.
ANDREW
(chuckling)
Go on, put on your clothes. You look absolutely disgusting standing there with your balls hanging out like that.
Samson came in then, brushing angrily past Elaine.
He sighted me and walked toward me slowly, deliberately, fists balled.
ANDREW
(shaking his head)
No, Samson. Not now. Later, maybe.
For a moment Samson hesitated.
He was too consumed with anger and hatred, and he wanted to take me apart so badly.
ANDREW
(sharply)
Sit down!
Although his voice was low, it was nevertheless a whiplash, a command that allowed no arguments.
Basoah stopped suddenly, and although his eyes still blazed at me, he obeyed. He walked toward the door and sat down on a high-backed chair; he kept his eyes on me though, unwaveringly.
His antagonistic attitude, however, was the least of my troubles.
I was scared, real scared, and it wasn’t because of any of their actions.
What was getting to me were the words Okai had spoken earlier.
No, Samson, not now!
That was what struck my heart with total and uncontrollable fear.
I dressed slowly, my brain racing, seeking for a way out, but I saw none. I felt so alienated from anything good, and I knew my fling with Elaine had done that to me, just as they had intentioned.
For one wild moment I wanted to fall down on my knees and pray earnestly to God, but the doubts were crushing hammers that mocked me, eroding the little embers of hope and faith in me.
When I was done I remained standing, and stared down at Okai.
BOAT
(wearily)
So, all along you were in on this?
To be continued…