#SACRED_OATHS

Author: Samuel Frederick

Episode 7: BAD OMEN.

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Apparently, Boma knew I was stylishly looking at him, as well as I knew he was constantly looking at me. Our eyes met again for the umpteenth time and I looked away. I took a sip from my glass and looked up again, only to see him smiling sheepishly at me. He never got tired of staring persistently, which made me somewhat uncomfortable. I was about to turn my gaze elsewhere when I felt something tapping me softly below the table. I looked down and saw his smartphone outstretched to me.

Everyone on our table was engrossed in a conversation-with the exception of Boma and I-so we were partially left out, being the quiet ones in the group. Tensed, I collected the phone and glanced down at it.

'Can we meet outside?' was what I saw on the clear and clean screen. I smiled and punched in 'Yes' before handing the phone back to him. He looked at the screen and chuckled with a cute wink at me, and then stood up, leaving his drink behind.

"Guys, let me quickly get airtime outside." He informed everyone, winking at me again. "Excuse me."

Then he left.

A few minutes later, I followed suit. We met outside and strolled to a mango tree that was close to my department without saying anything at all along the way.

There was utter silence between us even after we got there. We just stood like statues, gazing at each other, both finding it hard to form appropriate words to start up a conversation.

When I couldn't bear the awkward silence between us anymore, I said, "Do you even have anything to say?"

I had expected him to be provoked by the question, but he just smiled and pointed at the bench behind us, motioning for me to sit down. We both sat and I distanced myself from him, making sure I kept a moderate amount of space between us.

Boma looked at me and smiled, in a way that seemed like he completely understood the meaning of what I just did.

"You don't trust me, do you?" He finally talked, to my utmost relief.

"Why should I? I barely even know you." I answered.

He looked at me and grinned weirdly, exhibiting diastemata in the process. I hadn't noticed he was gap-toothed until then.

"But you know my name is Boma. Isn't that enough reason to trust me?"

His question was outright silly, but I had to respond regardless.

"No, I don't think so. You know my name too, but it doesn't really mean anything, to be honest with you. I'll advise you not to get ahead of yourself, sir." I cautioned him politely, adding, "The fact that we both know each other's names doesn't necessarily mean that we are magically cool with each other or something. We are still strangers. Isn't that enough reason for me not to trust you?"

"No, it isn't."

"And why is that?"

"Because we are friends."

"What makes you think so? Gentleman, I barely even know you, for goodness' sake!" I protested audibly, laying emphasis on each and every word.

"Then why did you help me last week when I was being pursued by those rogues?"

"Well, that's because you were bleeding badly... that was the only reason I took you in. If not for that, I would've blatantly ignored you. It doesn't mean we are friends." I explained bluntly, wanting to go further, but Boma made a face and scoffed, as though everything I was saying was falling on deaf ears, so I just zipped my mouth at once, shaking my head at his antics.

This guy was a jerk for sure.

Again, an awkward silence settled between us.

"Can I ask you something?" I broke the silence eventually, sighing.

"What's it? Go ahead." He affirmed, looking at my face curiously.

"First of all, promise me you'd be very honest with your answers. I detest lies."

"Done. I promise."

I heaved another sigh and continued speaking. "It's about the first day we met-on that particular night to be precise-when I wanted to get onions and you stopped me along the way. You were with two guys then. Who were they?"

"I don't know."

"But you just promised to answer anything I ask you, didn't you?"

"I sure did, but I can't answer this particular one. I barely know you too." He cornered me with my own exact words! Very clever!

"Fine. Keep it to yourself then! What about the envelope you sent through my friend and the sheet of paper included in the bag, what were those for?"

"Honestly, the money was just a token of my gratitude for the help you both rendered to me. If not for you, I probably wouldn't be here talking today. You saved my life." He said, and added with a cool smile, "And I expected you to call me, but you didn't. Why?"

"I don't know. I guess I just forgot to," I lied, looking away. "Sorry."

The truth? I wanted to call him BADLY, but I was afraid. Afraid for so many reasons, part of which was the fact that I had a strong feeling that he was part of a cult or something, and I didn't want to get involved in anything like that, especially with everything going on in school now.

"Besides," I continued speaking, "I've been meaning to ask you something since that night. How did you know that my name isn't Lydia when I lied?"

"Well, you kind of stammered twice before responding, and that was how I knew the truth. It's quite easy." He said calmly, winking his right eye at me in a playful manner.

"I don't believe you."

"You believe whatever you choose to believe, Fifi. Can we change this topic, please?" He said calmly, although I sensed desperation in his eyes. However, I gave up and stopped interrogating him, but deep inside, I still held my suspicions about him.

We remained under the mango tree for a while and talked there. In the course of our discussion, one thing led to another and we resorted to sharing contacts eventually.

He saved my name as 'Fufu' even after I cautioned him on the right spelling, claiming that he liked it that way, so I literally revenged by storing his name as 'Bama' and I showed it to him. We both laughed at each other's silliness.

Later that evening when we returned home, I tabled out the whole drama that happened between me and Boma to Ijeoma and Mimi's hearing. They both cautioned me to thread carefully with him, since we were still getting to know each other.

Much later, I was having a sound, peaceful sleep when a call woke me up in the middle of the night. It was very unusual of my father to call me at such ungodly hour, and I feared that something bad might've happened.

"Daddy, is everything okay?" I spared no time to ask when I picked up the call.

"Yes, everything's fine, my dear. Sorry I disrupted your sleep, but I just had a dream about you."

"A dream?"

"Yes, a very bad dream in fact. In this dream, you were stranded on an island with no means of escape. You were so alone in the middle of the vast ocean, and you had no one coming for you, no saviour in sight. But all of a sudden, a small canoe floated towards you with oars and food inside of it, but you couldn't reach out to it no matter how hard you tried. You eventually lost all hope and surrendered. You waited there for days; just waiting for death to come to you when all you needed to do was take a bold step towards your only chance of survival and fight for it! But you didn't! No, you didn't!"

At this point, my father paused. I listened keenly for the next part, but he said nothing at all.

"Is that all?"

"That's all," he answered, drawing a deep breath. "I don't know what it means, but I'm sure it's a very bad omen, my daughter. Please take a moment to pray before heading back to bed."

"Hmm. I will, sir. I'll try."

"Please do. God bless you. I'll check up on you at dawn. Sleep fine, dear."

"Thank you, dad. You too. Bye."

Truthfully? I had a very troubled mind throughout that night as I pondered on my father's dream. What could that dream possibly mean?

What?