The story of fate and destiny Chapter 8 The Mother Writing in progress. If you
“Character contributes to beauty. It fortifies a woman as her youth fades. A mode of conduct, a standard of courage, discipline, fortitude, can do a great deal to make a woman beautiful”
The next scene of events happened very quickly, almost in a flash.
Charles didn’t know what hit him in the face, but that instant between the unexpected pain inflicted on him and the realization that he was under attack irritated him a lot. His reaction, though, was a feeble attempt to avoid hitting his head on the tiled floor of the room as the blinding pain knocked him over.
Even then his dead weight was almost too much to prevent the momentum taking him to the ground.
The pain was unimaginable, yet his lungs let out the dying embers of the inhaled cigar he had entertained himself with moments earlier. Spittle dribbled down his open mouth as everything else went quiet and pitch dark.
The last thing Nonso saw before scurrying out of the room like a wounded dog was the angry eyes of Sandra, as she stepped out of the darkness in a flash, with what looked like a heavy figurine that she swung with both hands.
It is indeed fear that brings rage, that hot burning anger that seeks to harm. It is a biological button better left alone, but this one was already on the loose.
The danger alert rang out in Nonso’s brain like a crazy cacophony of noise, which translated directly into his running limbs.
He pushed past Agnes, so much that the organ cooler she held in her right hand swirled into a noisy spin on the tiled floor, spilling its content – wet ice.
Of course, Nonso’s next steps past the door sent him tumbling into the dining area, knocking his bald head into the chair Charles sat earlier. His bad leg did him no favors.
He didn’t look back, he picked himself up and hobbled off to the entrance porch, grunting like a deranged pig scared to his wits. His gait that was almost smooth only that morning was now obviously faltering and uneven.
Outfoxed, Agnes stood transfixed to a spot. Her gaze started slowly from the cooler, whose cover flew at a tangent, as it spun noisily to a halt on the tiled floor, close to the feet of her soon-to-be assailant.
On her assailant’s feet were cute colored socks that rose just past her ankle, revealing fresh yellow skin that disappeared into her knee length jeans.
When she managed to look past the pale skin on her legs, up to her small waistline, she heard words she never thought she would hear again.
“Mama. Mama!” The first “mama” sounded as though in utter shock, a near shout, while the second mention sounded accusatory.
Sandra looked pale, like her once innocent, fresh, ethereal, and seductive skin had lost its glow. Her hair that had been packed into a ponytail was now ragged with loose strands falling over her facial features.
Agnes eyes scanned her daughter’s face as it darted from one eye to the other as recognition dawned on her.
Even in her disheveled state, she was amazingly beautiful, almost like she was made for every life scene.
Agnes reached for her daughter’s face as she held it in her hands. That moment looked like it would stay forever, slow, sad, and teary.
A sad Enya’s soundtrack would do justice to the scene.
Sandra’s eyes were as they had been many years ago, when her beloved daughter was a young teenager, before life stole her innocence.
“Mama” was all Sandra could utter. Words failed her.
Only moments earlier, she had perched on a short stool she found by the bed side, ready to strike whoever opened the door. By the same bed where hours earlier she made the most intense love with Charles.
In her gnarled hands was the figurine that adorned the bedside drawer. At first when she weighed it in her hand, she feared her weakened muscles wouldn’t allow her to swing the object for the maximum impact. Once she figured out that using both hands could do the trick, she knew no man born of a woman could survive the impact of the blow.
Charles laid unmoved in evidence.
While she waited behind the door, she listened to the muffled voices of Charles and his guests. Even though she felt a bit wobbly from the drugs he administered to her, she could still make out a few words.
“I honestly don’t care. Just get me her kidneys. I need them“
“He deserved what he got” she assured herself.
Both women embraced each other, as they broke into an emotional reunion.
Their reunion was told in the soul connection of their eyes, in the sweet touch as they caressed each other, and in the strength of such a long-anticipated hug.
Both women cried.
A soul-wrenching bitter cry from Agnes, after she realized that the organ cooler, she had come with was intended to house the freshly harvested kidney of her most beautiful daughter.
Perhaps it was the emotional cries that stirred him, or the blubber accompanied by sniffing nostrils, Charles opened his left eye to light.
It was at first unclear what his blurry eyes could discern, but after straining for a brief while, fluttering his eyelids repeated to clear the drying trail of blood on his left eye, he summed up the scene to mean one thing – Betrayal. Agnes had betrayed him.
“Agnes must die” He could hear several voices in his head echoing in agreement. She must be punished for being disloyal, for taking sides with the enemy.
Lying still and unmoved he watched as the two woman cleaned tears from their faces before turning to look for an object, he could weaponize. He found a broken shard of the ceramic figurine a few inches from where his head laid on the tiled floor.
“Where were his bodyguards? What did he pay them for?” Everything was starting to irritate him. He would have to deal with this by himself.
Charles suddenly lunged from his position on the floor to grab one of Agnes’ legs by the ankle. It was a firm grip filled with so much rage. When he released her leg, he had slit it deeply with the broken piece of ceramic.
Agnes screamed in agony, clutching her leg as it bled. It was Sandra that came to her defense. But as soon as Sandra looked up to react, she was promptly dispatched with a heavy back hand slap from Charles. It had her swirling like a ballerina into the corner of the room, upsetting the well-arranged dresser table.
Charles was now on his feet. Tall, lanky and majestic in his stance.
“Agnes. You!” his calloused hand pointed aggressively at her.
Agnes had never seen such rage in Mr. Charles eyes. Never. She watched as Sandra picked herself up from the slap, dazed and disoriented.
The bruise marks disfigured her face slightly, as her upper lip became distended was suddenly becoming swollen and tender. Her eyes then darted around the room for objects to use in self-defense.
Charles kicked the creaking door shut. There was no telling he meant business. No way anyone could leave now.
“In my house? You must both be mad.”
There was silence.
“Agnes, I will kill you” Charles spat the words as blood poured out from the gash on his temple all over his face. He lost the color from his face as he struggled to speak further.
He staggered, but soon regained his balance, only for a few moments.
He knew he would faint when his legs started wobbling. He staggered backward again, his mind swirling, his breaths shallow until he fell in a heap to the floor.
Charles was dead.
Sandra helped her mother up on her good leg as they hobbled past Charles and out of the room.
For effect, she pulled the door open wide enough, so that it hit Charles as he laid unmoved in an unnatural position in the pool of his blood.
“Bastard.” She spat on him.
That was when they heard the police siren, then a few gunshots and then silence.
The randy policeman came through for Pat. He radioed the police command closest to Ikoyi where Charles lived, and the squad responded in good time. Charles had been on the wanted list for a very long time, they had no idea he lived on the posh side of Lagos until they traced Sandra’s mobile phone to his house.
The police claimed they shot and killed Charles and accolades went out to the police superintendent that led the team.
“Our gallant men neutralized a notorious drug lord and kingpin, Charles Okpo, after many months of surveillance and police intelligence. Seven of his bodyguards were neutralized in a shoot-out that lasted many hours. The police however lost one gallant officer”
The most dangerous of all falsehoods is a slightly distorted truth!
Dr. Nonso – Escaped through the fence into the city just after stumbling out of the house. He only heard of Charles’ death on the 10pm news bulletin later that evening. His Godmother died a few days later in the hospital as she waited for the “kidney” Charles had promised her. She was heartbroken when she learned that he had been killed in his home.
Agnes – Reunited with her daughters who were traumatized by the event and stopped selling their bodies for money, if only for a few years. She never contacted Nonso again and stayed away from the underground life she had known for so many years. Of course, her ankle healed.
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