Dreams Come True

Am Philip,

My friends called me ‘the Write man' because of my flare for writing. I was always seen with sheets of paper and pen –scribbling—but never succeeded to write a complete novel.

   After high school, I lived with two friends of mine, Edoh and Alpha, whose interest were betting and gambling. Edoh was the worst; his long slips were what we used in the toilet. His slips were always taller than all our neighbor’s kids. he would hung it over his neck and bounced back home ---hoping to 'get rich' after each game. He hardly ever won.

 Alpha on the other hand often won little penny which we spent together.

We vastly differ in temperament. I had no passion for sports; as for betting or gambling I had sworn never to indulge. All I did was writing and reading stories after working hours.

  The day I completed my first story book was my greatest moment ever. a long novel I tittles 'Oasis'. A proofreader rated it ‘excellent'. I was extremely delighted with myself. I couldn’t wait to show the world. I wanted to be called 'an Author' too, but there was no money to publish the book yet. That day I drank to celebrate my success. 

  The joy I felt was as much as the joy my friend and roommate, Alpha, felt when he shouted at midnight. For the first time, his millions-of-naira betting slip clicked all. we got mad--like real man!

The way he exclaimed startled everybody in the room. He leaped all over and scattered the whole room in ecstasy. he held his phone in one hand and the slip in the other. Edoh snatched the phone from him to confirm. I peeped at the slip.

It was 12midnight so I refused to raise my voice. But when Alpha mentioned the amount --"5 Million Naira!" I could not hold myself any longer. I turned on the switch and music covered our voices. we went wild with dance. I believed to publish my first novel from part of the money when cashed out.

  "lower the volume on your CD player" neighbors were knocking.

  "To hell with your poverty!” I fired back. whether or not others were disturbed wasn't our concern. All that mattered then was "tomorrow we will cash out and level will change".

It was the best night ever. And all was cheer-bliss until we heard the first gunshot followed by more firing, bullets dropping here and there.

  Armed robbers were operating on our street. The subsequent gunshots chained us in fear, enslaved our joy, and sentenced all other sounds to oblivion. Silence ruled!

We shivered while they robbed the neighborhood. our compound came last. I heard hard slaps and blows, then plea, weeping, and gnashing from the rooms of co-tenants. I could visualize our turn being 99% due. By 1am they broke into our room; huge ruffians in black mask, with AK47 and other deadly weapons. Four of them came in while two watched outside. Immediately I saw them my shorts went wet.

 One of the armed robbers glared a eye-blinding-torchlight at me, the beam overshadowed my shadow. I saw myself shrank at a corner. I couldn't run, couldn't even hide like other had done --- I had lose my senses to tension or pressure of fear. common sense was no longer common. The light leaped to someone else. his full trunk hid under the bedstead except for his dirty feet that chose to disgrace him. Those elephant feet was no one's but Edoh, the very feet that terrorized slippers.

  "come out now! ... one...two.." they were kicking hard already. Their tough boots could crack bones. I shutdown my eyes not to see the peel on his feet nor the bruise that gave way to sprinkles of blood. He cried as he crawled out. They pointed a gun at him and ordered for quietness. I was down, sobbing. They had kicked and punched me down because I failed to lay prostrated when they barged in.

  "My ATM card and my manuscript" was what flooded my skull when they started to scatter the room for their head. what did they keep?

 Suddenly, I noticed someone was missing; Alpha was nowhere to be found in the room. He was lucky. But how did he do it? Just then, when I had an intuition that he had sneaked out from the window, I heard a gunshot from outside and my spirit mellowed. I groaned in pain either because Alpha was shot or due to my predicament. Edo, too, cried audibly and shouted

 "No! God No!..." They had just overturn his luggage and some amount of money; a pair of new jean; and his wrist watch were stolen.

 “wasn't that the money he told us had finished? stingy Idiot! Thank God they stole it.” I nearly laughed but for fear of being shot dead too. I started to weep for Alpha; what a waste of such promising boy. I prayed God should take his soul and keep his slip for us. My major concern was the slip. 5million naira was no chicken change. At least we should buy handkerchief to wipe our tears after mourning him. what a good friend! His family was not aware so no one would have a share in the money. Edoh, my assumed accomplice, was more selfish than myself so he wouldn’t tell anyone -- even if you finger his eyes.

  "2.5 million richer by tomorrow. Then I shall be able to get my novel published" I felt tempted to whisper to Edoh in consolation, but he wasn't looking at me. I saw him cover his mouth with cupped-palms, as a girl being proposed to, and was angry at the thief kicking my bag of cloths. I realized my cloths were neatly packed at a corner instead, but my bag was still inflated. magic!

 Who had done that? I was foolish not to notice that our window was closely barred, so Alpha couldn't had possibly gone out. He was the one inside my bag.

  "Shoot the Idiot!" The leader of the gangsters ordered. Alpha yelled in the bag. He could not come out. He shouted for help. We too pleaded for mercy (although we had been warned against saying a word)

  "Sentence him to hell!" he barked again. His voice echoed like thunder. That was the last order, then three of them cocked their gun at the bag.

   I do not know how Alpha did it but he tore his way out before the first few bullets rented the bag to shreds. We were so grateful to GOD that he escaped the bullet just as the thoughts of siphoning his money escaped my mind. I imagined my just completed novel being shot to shred. Gosh! God forbid!

 When they saw my friend’s stature --a little runt-- they pitied to kill him for having attempted to hide. But those savage monsters tortured us in a way my pen is too unwise to narrate. They beat us up and looted as much as their hawk-eye fell on. Once or twice I made a hard fist to retaliate but a dirty-clean punch weakened my muscles. we tasted agony of hell. All these we bore patiently hoping to get rich at sunrise (like Stephen the martyr who saw heaven while being stoned to death). Ours was a different kind of heaven; the slip and my just completed novel was our heaven. Heaven on earth! But the worst happened; just as they trodded out, the last man set an eye on the slip --on our heaven. And that is when hell was unleashed.

 The slip and my manuscript lay together on the table. He laughed mischievously and stuffed the slip into my novel. I preached, but the son-of-a-bitch did not repent of taking it. He must had been sure of something. He banged the door immediately and off he went.

WHAT? My first ever finished novel! Our heaven --- the last hanging hope? NEVER! We couldn't watch that happen; we were ready to die for it. As if a war drum was beaten, we withdrew our last savings energy and smashed the wooden door, which gave way under our wild weight.

  Outside, in the dark coat of the night, he stood pointing torch here and there, wondering which way others had followed. We rushed at him in unity, like mad dogs, and with a quick spear we were all down to the earth in real mortal combat. 3 against 1. 1 that seemed 7-in-1 body. we took him unaware.

  "Theif!..theif!..theif!" we raised alarm but no neighbor showed up. they were still covering their fearful in their stuffy, ill-furnished rooms. fearful animals!

 We beat the thief drastically, and he fought back like a lion. He was very strong and difficult to defeat. It was a do-or-die affair. He cut my face deeply with a dagger and blood blurred my eyes, yet I fought hard. I did not mind if it was the sacrifice I had to pay to get back my book. I wondered what he wanted it for. I grind his lips with good rounds of bad punch, and his nose bled as well. Alpha sustained several injuries on his abortive effort to get back the slip -- our well of wealth, our dream.

It was Edoh who took the boldest step to unmask the beast. And I wished he did not; because immediately he did that, the armed robber drove a sharp two-edged knife into his belly and that brought the fight to anticlimax.

The fight ended as Edoh cried out for help. we got distracted a bit in response to the stimulus. And somehow, the thief escaped in a jiffy, leaving the knife tucked in his abdomen. We no longer thought of anything than to save his life (our lives all together). Although we were ready to die for the slip and my book we never knew death could be so painful.

   I tried to pull the knife out but he yelled louder, begging me to stop. By then my face had swollen enough for size-4 ball. I was badly injured. Alpha lay face-up on bare ground breathing like a mad pig, his hands inter-woven under his head. All-man his cloths soil with his own blood. It was so shameful that 3 couldn't conquer 1. We couldn't accept the defeat despite the fact that we loss!

  I hastened through the dark corrido, kicking legs against stoves and buckets of co-tenants, to the backyard to get my bicycle so I can transport Edoh to the nearest hospital. My foot repeatedly sunk into sticky liquid. It was drops of blood. I followed the trail, which took me to the backyard where I saw it all --with my naked eyes -- a corpse soaked in pool of blood at a gloomy corner. I could not see the face but I knew it was an outcome of the last gunshot. I was griped with fear!

   “Someone is dead,' I soliloquized. ‘I won't be the one to crack the bad news... if I dilly-dally Edoh too will die....." But it was nobody. They had only shot a goat.

With the speed of light I jacked the bicycle over my head and groped outside.

  "Hurry... Climb". I ordered the stabbed victim.

 "No please, I can't. I will be fine even without going to hospital". He said.

 "Climb quickly!" I gave deaf ears. Blood was gushing from the wound as though it would soon push out the knife. His palms buried the knife handle. 

 "I'm afraid I may not make it..." He was weak already.

I rebuked him. Alpha carrier him onto the carrier. He clutched my ribs like a kid. It was near daybreak, and the stars were fading. I made to paddle away but an obstacle ceased the front wheel.

 "Remove that stone." I pointed at the tyre to Alpha.

 "It’s a torchlight. It fell from the criminal." He picked it and flashed.

 The light revealed more unfathomed items on the ground. It wasn't just the torch that he lost to us; a pregnant wallet, a big android phone, and his gun had also dropped. What gladdened me was that I found my book and the slip on the floor too. As we wondered what to do with the recovered loots some co-tenants resurrected from their conscious slumber and were groping out of their unsafety safeties. Like slow spirits in the dark, they reluctantly approached us. Alpha quickly turned off the light and hid everything in his bloodstained polo. Fast guy!

When they got close enough to ask what happened, Alpha snubbed and hurried back to our room. I kicked the standing backward and cycled off into the brighter darkness, and distance gradually separated us.....

The next day we gave whatever we took from the thief to the police and gave them the needed information. But the wallet? The money in it was what we used to pay the hospital bill.

When everything was set Alpha cashed out his money. He gave me enough money to publish my work…my first story/book that I just finished.

The end!