PROLOGUE

... a suburb near Yaoundé, Cameroon. ...23-04-2007

On top of the fact that he was scared, he had to try and hold his full bladder.

"Go, Tee, run! hide! No matter what happens don't come out!" Those were Momma's last words to the little boy who ran and hid within a cupboard under the stairs, intently listening to the conversation outside the small space filled with his playthings.

Momma was always grave, she says little and rarely smiles; so whenever she says anything, she meant them, and Baby Tee always obeys. There were consequences in the past when he'd tried to deviate from 'the straight and narrow' and momma would have that look of sadness and anger in her bright eyes, then she would pat Baby Tee on the cheek and say, 'I hate to say I told you so, but I told you so.'

Momma was beautiful, with wide almond shaped eyes, long, yet kinky chestnut brown hair and brilliant radiance when she smiles-which of course was rarely-she had a modest look on her face most of the times that sometimes Baby Tee had heard uncle Yochua joke about how his brother (Baby Tee's father) had eloped with her from a convent. Baby Tee was never sure if that was true, but to the merit of the rumour father (quite jokingly) debunked, Momma was quite religious and very active in the nearby catholic church, she always prays her rosary, never misses mass and made it a point to wake Baby Tee up to pray every morning, when she would tearfully beg God to favour him and help her train him. For all the prayer was worth, Tee was never far from trouble.

But that day, uncle Yochua had that look on his face that was akin to mother's. Something was bothering him even before now, he had return from the city and hadn't return in two months which was quite odd. Uncle Yochua never spends a week with the family, he always has a business to return to. That explains why he had no wife or children of his own, or the patience to understand why his nephew was far from handful.

In recent times, Momma and Pappa with uncle Yochua would whisper words at night when they think Baby Tee had fallen asleep watching TV. He had picked some words like, 'the order,' 'ankh,' 'Cairo,' in their long conversation. He was never caught eaves dropping on the party, Baby Tee was smart enough to know he wasn't supposed to know. His parents were the best he knew, but they had in their own way instilled in him the value that sometimes--most times to be candid--children are meant to be seen and never to be heard. In this case, never to hear, and not to be caught equals not to be seen.

Pappa had recently acquired a gun which he hid in a drawer in his working desk, this added to the mix that got Baby Tee even more suspicious. The boy had woken the night before to pee when he saw that the lamp in Pappa's study was on, it's fluorescent light cast a slanting shadow off the wooden door that was left ajar.

Pappa always insists on switching the light off, to conserve energy, a rule he enforced with more emphasis in recent times, Baby Tee's tiny feet must have made minimal sound for the huge man hunched over the oaken desk to notice, Pappa was cleaning a black metal with the same attention he would give to his student's script when marking.

It was that darn tawny cat that gave Baby Tee away, it meowed. This called his attention to the little boy standing in the door way watching him oil a pistol, then the cat slunk away. Pappa was quick to put everything back in the shelf, but his motions were clumsy all the same. He made that hypocritical smile adults like to make, the sort that show their teeth, sometimes, but never, ever reaches their stern eyes, a vain attempt to prove that nothing was amiss. Baby Tee rarely misses anything.

"Tee, hey!" Pappa had said, then fondly tousled his hair and urged him towards the bathroom. "here."

"What was that thing Pappa?" he had asked.

"Nothing to worry your sweet head about."

After the boy was done with business, Pappa took him back to his room. "now, you need to go back to sleep." he said, prying out baby Tee's clinging little fingers.

"Pappa, will we be alright?"

"of, course." Said the man without hesitation, "I'm around, you'll be fine." Again, the fake confident smile.

Baby Tee, could hear Pappa said it again, "I'm around, you'll be fine."

"then why am I hiding in this cupboard," he wanted to ask as repeated pounding on the door, jerked Baby Tee back to reality.

Again, something slammed on the door that startled momma. Uncle Yochua walked closer to the door to the door, "just let us open it, there is no need breaking the damn door," he said reaching for the door knob. Pappa's pistol was held in his hand behind his back, his finger already pressing lightly on the trigger.

A barrel of gunshot sounded as the door open, Tee's eye went wide when uncle Yochua fell to the floor, in some sickening slow motion, crimson blood began flooding the rug, the moment he was landed with a thump. Momma gasped and ran to grab uncle. Papa remained unmoved and had his gun out, pointed to the intruders in ski masks.

Pappa's gaze was not once at his brother lying on the floor, but on the man that first spoke, he was a little taller than Pappa. "Good evening, Jacob I presume?" the unarmed man said, he had a smile as he watched the deed of his men: Baby Tee's uncle slowly giving up beside Momma. He glanced at the television on a stand, a refrigerator, a book shelf and back at Pappa. He didn't look the least impressed which was expected, the young boy in the cupboard wasn't proud that his parent's living room was not as furnished as some of his friend's at school.

Two other men followed by the side one had his gun aimed at Pappa and the other on Momma who oblivious of her predicament was weeping over Uncle Yochua who is now motionless after a few forceful twitches.

"you just shot my brother." Pappa voiced with an edge. The man folded his arm, with a smug look that silently asks, 'so what?' "what do you want here? We've honoured the code, we left as agreed, what now?" he asked all in one breath, after a few moment of awkward silence. Baby Tee,  could see Pappa's reflection in a standing mirror, Pappa doesn't seem to have as more nerve in his hands as he had in his voice. His jaw was clenched and his temple thumping. Rivulets of sweat were beading on his ebony skin.

"if it is as you say, why do you have that gun pointed at me." The man asked, taking a step closer to Pappa. "don't get too bagsy, he was my friend you know." He digressed, looking down at the man as if he were nothing but an object to be disposed of.

"you just killed my brother!" Pappa shouted. The gun was still pointed, he wasn't using it.

The man laughed, the two others exchanged a look. "You don't know how to use that do you? I see," his eyes glisten with vicious knowledge, confidence too as he took another step, "you can hardly aim right." He said, swiping a hand in the air as if to wave away bad smell, "is that cowardice I smell. Go ahead, Jacob, shoot me."

"you are close enough."

"that's the point innit? Go ahead." The man pouted, then smiled knowingly, "but you won't. You teach mathematics I was told. Nice cover by the way..." He said, looking around again, more amused than amazed, "...so, you must know the odds of you loosing you wife and yourself, you don't stand a chance against us, not unless you whelp of a son has the spine."

"You don't get to talk about my son."

If the man heard, he didn't act it. "interesting what happens when the sun takes his rest, and we are down to a starless, moonless night. And how man is always apt to think that things are best hidden away from the light." He walked over to a vase on which Pappa had planted a sprouting aloe, the man smelt the plant then topple the vase from the shelf, it landed with a crash. For a moment Baby Tee thought something glittered in the mess. "that's you precious vase I just broke."

Dad was at disadvantage, a few sneak-peak though the neighbours window watching action movies had though Baby Tee that much. Momma was averse to those, in fact all things on TV except news and documentaries. Uncle Yochua that has much of them action films in his computer and some other kinds movies he'd close windows and doors before watching didn't seem to have anything on the men. Pappa didn't stand a chance.

"Maybe I can give you some encouragement." Said the man, who then pointed his gun on Momma's head, momma froze, her eyes were already wide and drenched in tears, she glanced Baby Tee's direction and had that stern look on her face, though she didn't talk, the little boy had known that look to mean that he gets stay put no matter what. Mother always stands by her word.

A click sounded, then father shouted, "I'll do whatever you want... Don't hurt my wife! ...just don't." he said, lowering his gun and few moments later placed it on the floor. The man to his left bent to pick it.

"you swore an oath."

"Did I?" said the man in the mask, "where can I find your brother?" brother? He just killed uncle Yochua, which other brother could Pappa have? The boy wondered.

Pappa looked even more shaken to the bone, he hesitated at first, "if I am going to answer that question I deserve to know who I'm talking to." He said with considerable effort, his bluff had dissolved into that pleading look, Baby Tee gives his bullies when he was fed up proving strong. Momma hates it when he would come home crying after 'earning' a nice beating from his nemesis, Momma says that good boys don't fight, but his backing down didn't really help. Applying past incident to the present situation churned his innards to knots just thinking of the possibilities.

The man removed his mask, he was light skinned. A recently shaven scalp glistened above a cheerful mug, and deep set eyes. He couldn't be older than uncle Yochua who was approaching twenty-seven. "I don't know you." Pappa said, he looked even more surprised.

The man laughed, he was all the while at ease, while his cronies sustain their aims, "we most likely haven't met. It's been a long while Jacob, or should I call you Memphis, Edward Memphis. We have records and I know you. You can see if you want." He said, folding the tight sleeve of his black turtle-neck shirt. "do you see it?"

Baby Tee, craned his neck, it was hard to see what was on the man's hand but when his hand fell, he saw a tattoo similar to a cross, a T with a loop on top.

"this is a rouge operation; this is against the code." Pappa said, his voice teetered on mortal fright, "you have no right to do this!"

"True, but people will thank us for ridding the world of your likes. Where is your brother?"

"we cut ties after the Cairo incidence, I swear, I never saw him after that."

"Then you are of no use to me." Said the younger man.

"you can't do this!"

The next Tee knew was the sound of guns, once then, Momma screamed, then another, and she too went quiet, Pappa fell silently, his glazed eye was staring lifeless at Baby Tee as blood drained from his forehead.

"search the place." The man ordered.

The two men left him and one climbed the stair and the other right in front of the cupboard, Don't see me please! Baby Tee wished as his full bladder gave way, he was way more wet that he knew he never actually realized when his bladder gave way at first. For a moment he wished he had his rosary on, but then again, momma's rosary didn't do her any good. Did it? The boy closed his eyes and huddled closer to the wall. He saw the dark boots of the large man take some step past the cupboard. Baby Tee was about to heave a sigh, then he saw the shadow of the retreating man, he saw the tip of his rifle, the cupboard creaked as it's door open. Before him stood his threatening full form.

Their eyes met. Please! The boy inwardly pleaded, not being able to get the words out of his mouth, Don't see me, please! His hands were extended in a plea, his eyes half filled with tears, were closed, he felt something brush his fingers, he was expecting the shot that would end him. Then he heard the sound.

He opened his eyes and a side of the closed door welcomed him. A cat had meowed, Baby Tee heard the footfall of the man towards the direction of the sound.

Their leader was bent over Pappa's body as the scene came back to view, his hand was searching through the pile of dirt from the broken vase. He stood up and had a silver coin in his hand. He tossed it in the air with a satisfactory grin; the coin glittered as it rolled in the air the man grasped it and put it in his pocket. The two men returned not so long after and soon the door slammed behind them.

By then, the cupboard was flooded by Baby Tee's piss, his butt itched, his body drenched in sweat that stung his eyes. His legs were cramped. A car rumbled to life and after a few rise and fall in sound, it was gone.

The only sound was the occasional call of the cat, and the steady unconcerned tick-tock of the wall clock. Far across the distance he could hear sirens wailing, then the door was forced open again. A lanky man ran inside, the sight of the bodies strewn on the floor didn't seem to shock him which made Tee assume he was one of the attackers at first, but his long locks were nothing like the other men had. This stranger simply glanced over Pappa, Momma and Uncle's body, then started towards the cupboard.

He walked past, Baby Tee sighed. Then the door flung open, the boy whimpered.

The man had some kindness in his eyes when he smiled, "there you are little snitch. You need to leave, none of us is safe in this country. I can keep you safe." Baby Tee shrank to the wall, his lips were trembling, words eluded him. All he could do was shake his head, 'no'.

"Ah, I see you don't' really know me do you? no," the man was not pleased with Baby Tee's response, he dug a hand into his coat and fetched a half licked lollipop, "here, comes with some nice chocolate flavour... try it."

"Go away." The boy was able to say.

"are you sure you do not want to come with the only relative you have left? I know Old Memphis wouldn't want you knowing about me. But hey, I came for you did I not?"

Tee shook his head again.

"fine." The man said. He sniffed twice, "did you just wet yourself?"

Tee was embarrassed, but he shook his head. he just wanted the man to leave, whoever he was. But the man remained stooped as the siren grew louder and louder. Who was this man to judge him anyway, the man with the locks looked as wild as crazy and smelt like someone who just escaped a Savannah wild fire. "let me help," the man said cheerfully offering a hand, then the other came over the boy's head with vicious smartness, Baby Tee's head was covered in something that had a foul smell of a long unwashed knit beanie, he couldn't see anything. He screamed just before a hand clapped on his open mouth. He bit into the man's finger as the man's arms wrapped around Baby Tee's wriggling body.

They were long gone before the police arrived.

*****
CHAPTER ONE

Entropy, the Merriam webster word of the day: The degree of disorderliness in a system.

I had thought then that the entropy in my life, assuming my life were a system—whatever 'system' is supposed to mean to the highbrows—would give anyone of the opinion that the world rests on his shoulder a run for their money.

When I meant that I learnt the concept or relearn it, I meant I experienced entropy, the sort of trouble that makes some-folks hit the gym, and chew his muscles raw with Justin Timberlake's ‘cry me a river’ playing in the background, or rather drown misery in a glass of booze.

Clocking eighteen and moving past it does come with its advantage. A glass can testify to that.

My ‘shitastic’ day began with Ayesha, a bright archaeology student whose wit outshone mine in tremendous proportion. She and I had been going out since first semester and contrary to what Dave (my friend) would admit, she was the best thing to happen to me in a while. She rarely smiles but was beautiful nonetheless and most of all the wit, she could drop a topic and analyse them to bits, that attracted me. She was more of the talker and I the listener and from the first time we bumped into each other at the administrative building till the day before we broke up—or rather she broke up with me—we got increasingly close.

We were in different discipline, maybe that sort of put a strain on what we had. But point is, she told me at the end of the session that she was leaving for Al Qahira on scholarship. That came as a shock at first, at least I knew that scholarship does not fall from the sky in just a moment. She could have given me the heads up, plus, I thought we don’t really hide stuffs from each other. Then the bomb finally dropped: I was being played, she was never really interested in me, she just needed a shoulder to lean on and I was that, just that, nothing more. She didn’t want me to take it badly, but she implied we were never official at any time and it were best if we stopped seeing each other.

So much for love at first sight!

Dave was pretty sure that there is another dude in the picture when he got wind of it. He claims eighty percent assurance that an arranged marriage was kicking in for her, being the daughter of a traditional ruler. "I mean, she has a pedigree, a name that would open doors a first class honour can't. She's basically royalty, and what are we? The pathetic masses of no consequence, at least, that's how they think."

He had the same pessimistic view he’d had from the start, “I told you didn’t I?" he said with that annoying voice and the sort of pompous look his thick brow presents. His words angered me and he saw it, “Dude I’m sorry it ended really bad, but…” I knew where he was getting at, the bitter truth. The truth he had always tried to push at me.

“Say it!” I shouted, but he was quiet. And the silence was aloud with the words he was choosing not to say, “You should never had thought you had a chance.”

He was always of the opinion that Ayesha was way beyond me, talking of how much she (according to Dave) ‘pushes me around’ and how much her influence had affected my accent.  Dave was the sort that never really get off his lane for a change. Well, except on one occasion when he was drunk, then another. His first was during first semester, and somehow we let campus have its way of breaking us freshers in. Long story short, Dave’s object of interest (better still, obsession) poured a good measure of ice-cream on the top of his head; made quite a spectacle as I remembered, and nothing I or anyone could do to save the day. Plus, the video was viral in youtube and the hash tag, #betty_crowns_dave rocked campus for a while.

I was smiling by this time as I listened to his endless consolation speech. Having to watch ice-cold cream sludge down your best friend’s recently dyed hair with half a thousand eyes watching is not something you can easily un-see. At the moment I was watching his humiliation, my heart did goes out to him. Betty 'crowning' Dave almost ruined his campus career.

“…Stuff like this are bound to happen, this is first year buddy.” Dave said unaware of my thoughts, “take me for example, I’ve haven’t really been lucky at this long period dating thing,” which was true, since he practically changes girls like a kid would diapers, this was till he met Rose, way off his league, but somehow in his grasp. Talk about keeping to one’s lane!

“why the funny face?” Dave asked.

I mustered a cough, “no, go on.”

“so, on one hand you were quite lucky to have come this far… you guys never got to business… okay you don’t talk crap… on the other… well, let’s forget that. The news is the biggest end of the session party is tonight, at a five-star hotel—quite an improvement if you ask me—thing is, there’s booze, boosts… okay, I know we don’t do that anymore, just the booze.”

Dave knew I don’t, not ever since my mum found pot in the pocket of my school trouser three years ago. She almost had a meltdown which she repaid in kind with lots of talks till she eventually resorted to open resentment and silent treatment. The quirked brow she has anytime we had an argument always seem to ask, Oh my God! Is he using again?

“…are you with me?” Dave was still talking.

“Oh yes,” I absentmindedly replied.

“So,” Dave continued, “you get a chance at picking from a long line of waiting chicks! Here’s the cherry, the newbies that came around for registration will also be around! Cheer up, get dressed and let’s throw this dice again! ...well, Rose will be coming, so I guess this is all on you.”

There was something infectious about Dave’s optimism, and pessimism too. He was trying to cheer me up this time, which was obvious. That year was the worst of my life, I hadn’t really done well in first semester given that I dabbled into a lot of extracurricular activities, and this semester exam wasn’t the best, my anxiety combined with the break up gave me such a slip I needed a lift.

Just a party after exams, what is there to lose but all to gain?

Dave wasn’t wrong, the party was a blast, a DJ had the sound system rocking with hiphop, there were plenty of girls, they had this hallway made of drink straws, a red carpet, a bar well stocked, and tenders that doesn’t ask too much question, other than take your orders and slide a glass towards you in a jiffy.

I took a shot of booze and hit the floor, danced a little and approached the bar tender again. Dave left me when his girl, Rose, arrived, which leaves me drinking unchecked. I had two more—which was way more than I had ever had in such a short time—then some more so I could really dance wild, I think the girls liked my moves, maybe they found it all amusing. I had much more till I couldn’t dance again. After another the ground seem to be swaying beneath me. I was refused a glass about half an hour later, maybe the bartender didn’t actually get my slurred speech, but how hard could it be to guess ‘one more!’ no matter how indistinct my words sounded.

I guess I slept on the counter for a while.

I jerked awake, and watched helplessly as a glistening glass half filled with scotch fell from my hand, towards the ground and shatter into countless pieces, each specks reflecting the kaleidoscopic lights that splashed down from the ceiling. The drink was splattered in a radial splotch that for a moment made me remember blood, though I wondered if that was what it actually looked like, I am sure that that was what I saw. I was drunk.

No one noticed the sight of splintering glass, or the crash; the bartender was attending to someone else too, he wouldn’t have noticed. The loud music and the countless cheer of the crowd all having a good time dancing under the disco lights saw to that.

I felt a little relieved about that. And with considerable effort placed my unstable hands flat on the glossy marble counter. For the umpteenth time I had the proprioceptory sensation of my heard swaying like a bloated balloon on top of a turbulent ocean; again I feared that I would fall from the stool, so I leaned closer to the bar.

“one more.” I said, it probably sounded like, ‘zwan moore.” The man was suddenly deaf to anything I say.

I remembered resting my aching head on the counter, moments after moments I drift into sleep only to be awaken by cheers and catcalls.

Dave, he was nowhere to be found, my best guess was that he was somewhere making out with his girlfriend, and I was left there, drunk to marginal consciousness.

Then it began, a nasty feeling that I was sure would lead to total embarrassment. It felt like I had a gigantic reptile in the pit of my stomach, wriggling up towards my throat. I jumped from the stand, pushing and stumbling through the crowd for the restroom. I pushed the door open and was on my knees in no time, vomiting all I’ve drunk alongside dinner into the water closet.

Somehow, Dave got wind of my bad shape and came to meet me hunched over, holding on the rim of the toilet, on my knees, pouring more sick out of my mouth, groaning and gasping whenever I could.

“Oh, great!” I heard him muttered, stamping his feet in frustration, “Sean, Sean, look at me.” he was saying, gently patting my cheeks and holding my blurry eyes levelled with his, “it’s just a hangover alright. Just take it easy.” He said, with such earnest look in his eyes, “take it easy. alright_”

He couldn’t complete the statement.

I was quite sure, some of the content of my vomit actually splashed on his new autumn jean trouser and sneakers. Yet he was there beside me, his hand proffered tissue papers which I collected fumbling with my lips. I was still afraid to talk back lest I make a graffiti of sick on the wall.

Rose, his girlfriend, ran into the room with a glass of water and two white tablets. “Take this, it will make you feel better. Alright.” Dave muttered. I could see his stubborn jaw clenched in frustration as he gave me the glass and the tablet. I guess I ruined a moment.

“Alright, just relax, it will all go down in a matter of minutes.” He said. “Trust me.”

I could hear the running water flush down the toilet basin, but my eyes were still closed, I guess I fell asleep for a second or two. A splash of cold water rained on my face before I knew it, and Dave was shaking me awake, “Look at me, Sean!” he said, and made a guttural groan, “come on man!”

By the time I opened my eyes, I was walking—not actually walking—more like Dave dragging me with his head bent across the dance floor and the crowd were slowly making way for the two of us. My entire weight was on his shoulder and my sneakers were actually sweeping the floor. Then, the rumbling in my stomach had subsided, and I didn’t feel like throwing up anymore.

It was a long slow walk, till we got out of the crowded porch to where his car was parked. I heaved a sigh, as my nape finally found some place on the head rest. I didn’t know how long I was seated in the car, but I was quite glad I didn’t have to fear falling again. Few times I dreamt about the ground giving way, or the car veering sharply, but I was quite confident that I wouldn’t fall.

I heard some whispers by the car that startled me awake, it was Dave talking with his girlfriend, Anita had declined his ride for her dorm mate’s. She got the upper hand and her excuse was the fact that I could use some rest.

I guess I had ruined whatever plans he had for the night, but then it was his entire fault. I didn’t ask to be here. And I didn’t look like a night worth a space in either our diaries.

Though we both never talked about it, we both knew that his piece of crap truck, wasn’t something Rose would want to have a ride on when her friend’s Porsche was waiting.

Dave kissed her goodbye, and was by my side with concern in his eyes. Yet he smiled, “how are you Buddy?”

I simply nodded and his smile widened. “Had a great night?”

The sour expression on my face made him laugh, “I’m not having a great one either.” He said, shaking his head.

“I wondered why you brought me here in the first place.” I slurred.

He shrugged as he took the driver’s seat, “I pretty much wonder why not.”

His close breath told it all, the half sweet, half pungent smell, he wasn’t sober, he was at least sober than I was even after taking the pills, whatever It was.

I heard him turn the ignition and the car rumbled to life, we drove off.

Few minutes into the ride, I could see the moon, reflecting from the side mirror, with my bleary eyes, and endless row of twinkling lights, I was specifically focused on the distant ones diminishing in sight as we drove past. Recalling how it felt like watching Ayisha walk away and knowing there was no way she’d ever come back to me.

“Feeling better?”

From the shit or the hangover? I guess he was asking about the latter. “yeah.” I replied, “you really need an upgrade man.” I said.

He nodded with a rueful, “right.”

“What was that drug?” I asked. This time, we were approaching a T-junction, and the colours of the traffic lights danced in my eyes. I didn’t know for sure if they danced in Dave’s eyes too.

Dave replied my question, but ended with “Shit!”

In a matter of seconds, I was pulled to the side as the car skidded away from two blazing head lamps and the mighty sound of truck horn, with a loud ear splitting screech of brake pad. The smell of burnt rubber was instantly in the air, then I felt crushed to the driver’s side with a blunt force.

******

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