Legion

By John C. Vos

Strung with elements of his own personal experiences, the author, John C. Vos, takes us on a journey into the mind and soul of good and evil. Jim, the main character, loses his wife and children in a tragic accident. He finds himself in a very dark place until he stumbles across an oil lamp. It is here that he meets Legion (five brothers) – travellers from an unknown world. For many years Legion has been trapped on Earth, trying to find an earthly champion that could assist them to get back home. Yet, they are not the only one from their world who is trying to get back home. Their evil brother, Wodri, had suffered a similar fate. He was determined to be the successor to the throne, and to achieve this, he devised a cunning plan to confined his brothers to a lamp, and he hid them in a deserted cave. His father sent his Gwafti to come and look for his sons. When the Gwafti discovered what Wodri had done he punished Wodri, splitting his body into three parts, scattering it across three continents. Legion is a powerful story of determination, captivity and the power of one's own thoughts. Will Jim, this human champion, be able to assist these alien brothers or will the evil Wodri succeed in destroying them all, and us all? It is a novel underpinned by the an understanding of our limits.
I know my limits.
I’ve taken on so many shapes and forms.
Yes many faces my smiles had been.
Wondering if these thoughts I had were truly mine -
I was running through a maze of disfigurement.
I was digging up discarded bones, long buried.
I axed. I slaughtered. I killed the dreams of innocence.
Stained with blood I swore at dark (open) heavens.
I cried the cries of captivity, of chains, of castration...
wondering when or if the ears of Ears do hear?
Whether there would still a time and grace for my death -
to be truly free of this deceased, desolation.
Snakes hissing! readied to strike as I tempt to step
into the light; into that open seen destiny of mine.
Yet, Dark remains the Light of my light.

• Language: English
• Publisher: John C. Vos
• Release date: Sep 22, 2015
• ISBN: 9781311551344

John C. Vos

My pen name is John C. Vos. I am blind. I was born in a small mining town of Blyvooruitzight, in South Africa. I was an honours student and completed two and a half years of his Mining Diploma with distinction. I also did my compulsory military training and completed a Parachute Course, a Lieutenants Course, and Training in Russian Weaponry.Then in 1991 tragedy struck.We were extinguishing a fire on a neighbouring farm; unaware of a stash of dynamite that laid buried on that farm. The dynamite exploded and the accident left me blind for life. I had a very big struggle overcoming this ordeal. After two years I "picked up the pieces" in a very huge way.Today, I am the number one ranked Braille Chess player in South Africa. I have represented the South African Springbok Chess Team at the World Chess Championships in Greece (2008), India (2012) and Greece (2014). I am the first blind person to bungee jump off the Gourits Bridge, the highest bungee in South Africa. I was selected to represent the Gauteng Province Blind Cricket Team for four years consecutively (2000 to 2004).I work as a Radio Operator for a company called, Truck Africa. My job is rewarding and very pressurised, but I enjoy it!I have a passion for writing, and enjoy mystery.My motto in life is: “Know your limits and accept it.”I pray that people will love and read my work, as much as I enjoy sharing it!THANK YOU!

Book preview

CHAPTER 1

Jim Hunt was an ordinary man, with an ordinary life. He lived in an ordinary house, which in the eyes of ordinary people was maybe, considered wealthy. Yet Jim had his feet firmly on the ground. He enjoyed his work as a Computer Programmer. He enjoyed having ordinary fun and adventure. He loved his sons and was still madly in love with his wife after many years of ordinary joys, and ordinary challenges, and ordinary experiences, which ordinary couples face. Even Jim’s routine was ordinary. The only thing about Jim that was, not, ordinary was his extraordinary faith and belief in God. This ordinary existence was about to change.

***

Not now! groaned Jim, but the phone kept on ringing.

He was busy writing a complicated financial program. He informed his team that he did not want to be disturbed, but he forgot to put his mobile phone on silent.

Yes! he eventually answered irritably. What?

The news was not good…

Jim’s world went from heaven to hell in 30 seconds. He stormed out by his office. He walked blindly down the corridor, oblivious to the goings-on around him. His heart was racing. It felt as if his head was ready to explode any second.

Jim, he heard someone call his name.

He did not respond.

What happened? he heard another asking.

I don’t know, he heard someone replying.

By the time he reached the reception area, there was a babble of voices behind him.

Jim! Lelanie grabbed his arm and yanked him around. What is wrong? she trembled with concern.

Not now Lelanie! he begged. Not now.

Lelanie let go of his arm.

Thank you, Jim said and strode into the parking lot.

His hands were shaking when he got behind the steering wheel. His throat felt constricted. His eyes were ready to burst from the tears he was trying hard to trap.

Lelanie was standing by the entrance to the office building as Jim revved his car loudly, and sped off.

Hilda, quickly - get Bianca on the line, Lelanie urged the Receptionist as soon as she got back inside.

What’s happening Lelanie? a colleague enquired.

I am not sure, she answered. Trust me, it is something really bad. I had never seen Jim like this before.

Can’t get through to Bianca, the Receptionist informed.

Try again, Lelanie insisted, and if you don’t get through, then try one of his other next of kin. Check the number for his friend Gido as well.

When Jim turned into the main road, there were people all around and the road blocked off. He pulled over. He jumped out of his car and ran towards the emergency vehicles. As he shoved his way through the crowd, he saw his best friend Gido standing beyond the barrier tape, talking to some Police Officers. On the side of the road, he saw Bianca’s car.

Jim pushed his way through the tape. A Police Officer tried to curb him from getting any closer. Gido saw the commotion and ran toward his friend.

No Jim, Gido tried to hold Jim back. Don’t go closer! he begged.

There was no holding Jim back. He was like a man possessed.

To the side of Bianca’s car he saw a black body bag.

Sir! one of the Paramedics tried to prevent him from peering into the car.

NO! Jim screamed when he saw the mangled bodies, which the Emergency Respondents were trying to free.

Gido was right by his side. Jim turned and looked at his friend. Gido could not stop the tears from welling down his face. Jim stood stoic. His face drained from all expression.

His wife and sons were all dead.

***

Days passed. Jim remained in total oblivion. The massive loss numbed him!

‘How was I supposed to go on? How was I going to cope?’ he asked his shattered soul.

He prayed constantly for help. He prayed that this was all a dream and that he would somehow wake up, but it was all very real. His family was gone, and the arrangements finalised for their cremation and memorial service.

Gido came around every day, and so too various people from church, his colleagues and the many friends Bianca and his sons had. Jim did not know how to respond to all of their condolences and words of comfort. He did not shed a tear, not once. Crying was not in his nature. In fact, he can’t remember ever crying not even when he was a child.

Yet, he prepared for a possible breakdown at the memorial service.

***

When the day arrived, Jim was dressed all in black. He kept his sunglasses on the entire time. Gido was by his side. People were weeping throughout the service. Outside it was raining heavily and the wind was wailing on this woeful day.

At the end of the service, many more people came to shake his hand and pay their last respect. There were no coffins. There were no bodies to view. The facial injuries were too bad, and his eldest son decapitated.

At Jim’s request, there was no reception after the service. He was one of the last people to leave the church. Gido offered to take him home, but he insisted that he wanted to drive on his own. That was the last time Jim saw many of the people.

He took some time off work and dwelled in his house aimlessly: blinded and stripped of the confidence that he built up over the years. He blocked out the sounds and the voices of his wife and children, which seemed to haunt the house. During the day, he kept the windows shut and the blinds drawn, and at night, he left all the lights off and staggered about in this darkness, in this sadness, in this anger, in his loss.

A week later, he decided that he had to get back to work. Once back at the office, he poured all his energies into his work. No spirit, no humour, no smiles, no small talk; just work, and when at home, sleep. Even in those sleep hours the darkness hanging over him seemed darker than dark…totally cut off from reality!

‘Why,’ has become his constant mantra, yet there were never any right answers.

His escape in his work became ever consuming. Jim worked himself into the ground. Yet, with every passing day, the question did not cease to haunt, ‘Why him?’

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CHAPTER 2

Four months later, Jim completed a complicated program he had been working on. He walked into Lelanie’s office.

Hi Lelanie, he said.

Hello Jim, Lelanie greeted in a smile that has remained wider than normal the past few month, anything I can help you with?

I completed that assignment I was working on, Jim said taking a seat on one of the leather chairs, you know that financial program Greg was hounding me about.

Hounding you? Lelanie questioned. The assignment is only due in two months! she exclaimed.

Sorry, Jim replied, I must’ve misinterpreted his constant hanging around my desk as pressing me to get the work done.

That’s okay Jim. Well done! she enthused and took the document from him. Wow, she said as she started reading, how did you manage to complete it so soon?

Well, with the family gone, Jim replied, I have too much time on my hands nowadays. Working more overtime; nothing major, he added.

You really deserve the year-end holiday break, Lelanie said sympathetically. I know it’s still month away, but have you made any plans? and as she asks, she realised that this may have been a little insensitive, given his recent bereavement.

Uneased, Lelanie put her face down, and continued to peruse Jim’s assignment and then signs it off. She once again thanks him and acknowledges the hard work and effort that went into completing the task.

No worries, Jim replied desultory.

Why don’t you take the afternoon off, Lelanie asked as he gets up to leave.

Ur, its fine, he hesitated. I have some more stuff to clear off my desk.

Ok, Lelanie replied, but you let me know any time you want some time off, she continued not wanting to push too much.

He winked back at her and closed her office door behind him.

For Jim, the days were fine, but in the evenings memories started to haunt. He tried everything to stay occupied, sometimes into the early hours of the morning.

Late one evening, burning with boredom, Jim scratched through an old wooden chest that belonged to Bianca’s great-grandfather. He found an old antique lamp, right at the bottom of the chest. It attracted him.

‘What have we got here?’ he smiled toying with the thought of rubbing it. ‘Maybe (just maybe) if I rubbed it hard enough I will wake from this darkness,’ he thought sarcastically.

Just then, he heard some music. At first, he thought it was his imagination and he brushed it off. Nonetheless, the music kept playing. It was real. Yet, he had not had the radio or TV on for days, and where he staid it was somewhat isolated. ‘My imagination,’ he thought and putting the lamp to the side, for more exploration later, he continued to sift through the things in the wooden chest. As he scratched around, a sudden urgency consumed him to find out what the time was. He realised that he did not have his watch on. He looked around to see if there was a wall clock, but there was none. He started fiddling around some more, but he couldn’t shake the need to know the time. ‘Absurd!’ he thought, nonetheless, he picked up the lamp and wondered off to the bedroom.

When he reached his bedroom the bright read numbers on his alarm clock read 23h23.

Not midnight yet, he grumbled.

Disappointed, he sprawled onto his bed and after counting a zillion sheep, he eventually fell off to sleep.

In the early morning hours, Jim awoke. Some unease was poking his side and he realised that he still had the lamp with him on the bed.

Damn! he cursed, knowing that it would be impossible for him to settle back into sleep again.

He placed the lamp on the bedside table and went to the kitchen to make a cup of coffee.

‘My dearest Bianca how I miss you?’ he pondered whilst filling the kettle. ‘I miss the way you sang, moving about in the kitchen,’ his heart cried.

He remembers the steaming cup of coffee she always made him - hot and sweet. She knew just how he liked it. Still trapped in this musing, Jim realises that the eerie music from earlier had returned once more. It shocked him back to reality, causing him to burn his finger on the hot kettle.

Shucks! he squealed, bloody hell that hurt!

In that moment, his pains are avert by the increased volume of the tunes, now filling the air.

Where the hell is that music coming from! he bellowed irritably.

As fleetingly as it came, it was gone, leaving Jim alone in this dark silence of the night - Leaving him alone in the grave of his thoughts – Leaving him, now even without his memories of Bianca – Leaving him completely empty.

Hours later, Jim concluded that his life was a mess. He had to get a grip on things. He had to escape from under this dark cloud. Life and Time was carrying on without him. Both were compassionate, yet unable to help him. It was up to him to rid himself of this wallowing defeatism. Yet, the task seemed insurmountable, covering him once again in the veil of darkness. When he became conscious of his surroundings once more, he was sitting under his kitchen table with a cold cup of coffee in his hand.

This is crazy! he screamed. No! No! I have to snap out of this! Bianca, he begged, what do I do my love? What do I do?

Jim recalls how proud his boys were of him. He was their hero! He supported them in everything they did. The three of them enjoyed getting away…him and his sons, their ‘man time’. On those trips, they had eons of fun around the campfire, talking boy-talk until late at night. His sons welcomed his fatherly advice, may it be issues at school, advice about their sport, advice about their girlfriends. They took all Jim said, to heart, and Jim he loved sharing with his sons, immensely! Overwhelmed once more with loss, Jim broke down sobbing shamelessly!

In the midst of his turmoil, the music returned. First softly and then it crescendo. Jim was convinced that he was losing it.

Shut up! Shut up! he screamed at the tunes in his head. Please in Christ Name, shut up!

The music stopped. Jim inhaled deeply, calming his being. He got up from under the table and walked over to the basin to add the cup to the pile of dishes, soiled for weeks. Yes, when the people stopped visiting, he stopped cleaning. In fact, no one came over anymore. Jim had no need to tidy or clean his place. At night, he would simply crawl into his unmade bed. His clothes he dropped off at the laundry each week for washing and ironing. He hardly ever spent time in the lounge. He hardly ever watched TV anymore. The only spaces that he really made use of were his bathroom, his study, and his kitchen. Even the kitchen only became a walk-through, as the days went by. At first, he would pump up courage to cook each night, yet he never liked doing dishes. Hence, when he started running out of clean dishes he resorted to take-away foods, only.

Now standing here by the basin, he is disgusted by his state.

‘Dear God, did I allow this to happen? I can’t continue like this!’ he knew.

He walked over to the cleaning cupboard and took out the detergents; touching some of the bottles and dispensers where Bianca’s hands last touched.

Methodically, he wipes, washes, sterilizes. That which is unusable, those crusted plates and utensils, he chucks into refuse bags.

Three hours later, there are four bulged garbage bags by his backdoor. Looking around him, everything now sparkled just as it did, when Bianca was around – everything in its place…no clutter. He breathed in the smell of lavender, and bleach, and lemon, and ammonia. It trickled more memories of yesterday, and sparked once more his sadness. His urgency to use the bathroom becomes a saviour.

He gets to the bathroom, just in time, and fumbles hastily with his zipper. He looks down at his penis while he urinates. He instantly longs for Bianca. He longs for intimacy. He longs for lovemaking.

Abruptly, the now familiar music blasts into the air. Startled Jim nearly unmans himself.

This time round the music was eerier than before, screeching in his ears.

‘No, it wasn’t in my head,’ Jim surmised, pressing his hands hard against his ears.

The music dissipated once more. Opening his eyes, Jim sees that he had messed all over the toilet pot and the floor. He snarls, and grudgingly starts wiping and mopping up where he had cleaned earlier.

That bloody music! he cursed. I have to find out where it is coming from, he determined.

For now however, the music had stopped. He tries to hum the tune, forwarding and rewinding the notes in his head.

What the flip! he bellowed when he realises that the music was from ‘The Pirates of the Caribbean’ a movie that he liked watching with his sons. This particular song played when all the wild parties, girls’ giggling, the dancing, the drinking, and the brawling ensued.

‘A pirate movie,’ Jim questioned. ‘I must be going off my head!’

He went over to the hot water flask and refilled his coffee cup. He had to get some fresh air. He opened the sliding door and walked over the deck to the pool. He sat down on one of the deckchairs, enjoying the morning sun, which by now was already red-hot and hovering. He took a few sips of his coffee then moved to sit on the edge of the pool dangling his legs in the water. He reflected on the last four months. For the first time since the tragedy, Jim finds strength deep inside to forgive him for the unfounded guilt he had. For some reason he believed the accident was his doing. He had asked Bianca to collect something for him at the Mall, and it was on their way back from the Mall, that the accident occurred. A drunk pedestrian ran into the road. Bianca swerved to avoid him. Instead, they crashed into the back of a garbage truck. Witnesses said that they were not traveling at high speed. However, at the angle that the car collided was at the height of the elevated protruding heists at the back of the truck. These met Bianca and Rory, his eldest son, squarely in the neck regions. Investigations concluded that Andy, his youngest, was travelling without a safety belt and the trajectory at which his body propelled through the front windscreen indicated that he was leaning through the gap between the two front seats at the time of impact.

‘If only one of them survived?’ Jim wished. ‘If only I had the chance to say goodbye to one of them? Why Lord? Why did they all have to die before I got to them?’

Jim became aware of the hot morning sun scorching his naked back, painfully. He welcomed the stinging. He welcomed the physical injury it caused him. His motto in life is ‘Know your limits’ and he knew that no mental power could bring his family back. Nonetheless, he would have loved to pass over with them. For some reason he was still here. Having said this, there were changes that he had to make in his life. He made a mental list of things he had to do – things he had to change. He had been in lockdown-mode, and if truth told, people didn’t stop coming around because they didn’t want to. They stopped visiting because he, Jim, had pushed them away.

He went back inside and made something to eat. His mood was slightly lighter as he tossed over eggs and fried some bacon. Unconsciously he started humming the pirates’ tune. Soon the music was blasting in his ears again. Jim was rightly alarmed. Something was amiss. Maybe his mind was too far, gone already. Maybe he was swinging on the lid of a looney-bin. He listened carefully. As before, it sounded as if the music was coming from everywhere – it consumed his head. Maybe it was really only in his head. Jim squint his eyes and tensed up, as if this was going to help him trace the origin of the sound. Somehow it did. He realised that the sound was coming from his bedroom. He opened his eyes to focus and in that moment, the music died once more. He started laughing nervously, now convinced that he had lost his sanity. He resolved that there was no music. He knew then, that he needed help: Immediately!

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CHAPTER 3

More than 1600 kilometers southwest, in The Mother City, Layla was getting ready for work. Layla had a job that many people would kill to have. She was the owner of an upmarket restaurant. Many years ago Layla was determined that she would one day be the proud owner of her own restaurant. Child of a Chinese immigrant father and South African mother, Layla came from a very hard, but honest working class background.

Many years ago, Layla saw a gap. She negotiated with the then owners and they offered her shares in the restaurant. Business boomed and soon Layla flipped the menu and the restaurant on its side, making it the most sought after culinary escape in The Mother City.

Years of bad management had left the previous owners in debt. Layla saved up a lucrative lump sum and when she was ready, she offered to buy the owners out – an offer that they could not reject. So yes, Layla is the owner, but over the years changed the restaurant into a niche social club. Her restaurant is a place where she meets people and expands her business portfolio over a light breakfast, or lunch, or an afternoon snack - very seldom over dinner. In the evening, one would find in her office at the restaurant, Lee House, doing her paperwork and catching up on her reading.

This morning started like any other morning. She went for an early morning run along the secluded beach where she stays along the Atlantic shore. Afterwards she had a steaming shower, a facial and slipped into the hot little designer silk number, delivered in person to her, the day before.

Shortly after 9am, she got into her sports car, and with the roof down, enjoyed a leisurely drive to Lee House.

When she stepped into the restaurant, she felt oddly on edge.

‘Weird?’ her entire body jumped into alertness.

Wang, her eldest brother, was a shareholder in the business. Lately he had been a little grumpy. When she asked him if anything bothered him, he brushed her off scratchily. This morning however, his mood completely transformed.

Hi sis, Wang greeted with a smile; catching Layla somewhat by surprise.

Wang hadn’t called her his ‘sis’ in a very long time. Layla was instinctively suspicious, but managed to conceal her feelings.

Oh, hi Wang and how are you? she replied with a smile.

A few years back, when Layla’s ambition overshadowed her normally cautious nature, she went to Wang for a loan. At the time, she was on vacation in the Kalahari and stumbled across an expansion idea for Lee House. She had money, but it was not enough. Wang agreed and stepped in to assist her. In return, he would get 10% of the new portfolio. Layla in turn agreed to pay the loan back in 24 months. She was super excited. Her being on retreat, Wang suggested that his attorneys draw up the agreement. She agreed because she trusted her brother unquestioningly, back then. When she received the faxed contract, she merely signed and scanned back to Wang, not taking time to read the fine print. This was reckless and irresponsible of her. It is something that she would never do under normal circumstances. Yet, she did…a mistake that she regretted ever since. There was no use crying over spilled milk. Wang now, not only owns 25% of the new business portfolio, but also 10% of all her future business ventures.

Fine, thanks for asking, just killing time, Wang replied lethargically. I am supposed to meet a friend here this morning, he continued. And how has your day been so far?

Just started, Layla smiled. I want to touch base with the Head Chef about an order for this evening, she said politely.

Wang did the same thing each day – meetings and deals that she rather would not want to know the details. She confronted him once about five years ago. She felt his wrath! From then on, she knew not to mess with him and not to ask questions about his business.

Truth is if Wang’s money was dirty, then she was enjoying that dirty money as well. This always bothered her. Yet, there was really, not much she could do; though not a day went by that she has not explored a way to make him an offer he cannot resist for his shares in Lee House.

The two siblings also had a set of twin brothers, Henjo and Senjo. Like their older brother, these two had affiliated with some of the roughest gangsters since they were young. Nonetheless, they were her brothers and Layla loved them. Since Wang scathed his way into her business, he brought the twins on board to ‘guard’ their investment.

I’m bringing Henjo and Senjo on board, Wang announced one day without any notice. They will take full responsibility of protecting our investment. There are many crooks out there, he continued, and warlords ready to exploit. Henjo and Senjo will keep them all at bay, he advised.

Then there was Layla’s youngest brother Yeng. He left one day without saying a word, and Layla has not heard from him since. She was sure that Wang had something to do with this. She despised Wang for this, yet she was not one hundred percent sure of Wang’s involvement there.

Soon, once Layla sets her plans in motion, she will get rid of Wang, Henjo, and Senjo! She had enough of them. She couldn’t carry on living with this daily crime and deceit happening within her space.

Later that day, she was relaxing in her office. She looked at the photo of her parents, clearly remembering her mother’s sweet voice and her father’s macho demeanour. They were both gone now. She missed them. Her mother was the sweetest person, always there to help. She was a saint - a real-to-honest Good Heart. Her father on the other…well it’s true what they say, opposites do attract! Her father was once a karate instructor. He was the best there was and he made sure that all his children took karate lessons – just in case, he always said. Layla hated those karate lessons, but she was grateful for her father’s perseverance. She obtained her black belt in karate, and on occasion when they were growing up, even gave her brothers the odd lesson or two. She felt empowered when she dumped Henjo and Senjo on their behinds a few times. Nonetheless, over the years the twins grew in physical and brute strength. Today there are very few people, who dare mess with them. She is cautious bearing false witness, but she is convinced that they have killed with their bare hands. Yes, some of the twins’ business connections scared the living be-daisies out of her. She would hate to meet some of them in a dark alley, any time - night or day! Just thinking of it, sent a shiver down her spine.

She shifted her attention to the papers that Brian, her Restaurant Manager, gave her to go through earlier that afternoon. There were some matters needing her urgent attention.

‘Bills and more bills,’ she fretted, but then smiled when she reads the income sheet. ‘Soon - very soon!’ she gleamed, ‘I’ll be free of them!’

In spite of all the issues with her brothers, life treated Layla well. She was an extremely loveable individual and her beauty added to her charm. Everyone loved her! However, as far as her love life was concerned, Layla has put this on the backburner. ‘There will be time for that one day,’ she consoled. In all her 33 years, she had only had one real relationship. For now, she had to continue working diligently on her plans to free herself from the clutches of her brothers.

Yet, there were moments when she missed sharing with that someone special; with that part of her that has been absent, still.

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CHAPTER 4

Jim managed to get to bed a little earlier. ‘Maybe all the cleaning,’ he smiled as he yawned. Soon he was fast asleep. Not long after, he had the most disturbing dream: Pirates, fighting, partying, debauched damsels…It was endless. Drinking…Dancing…Seduction!

He woke up breathless, charged with many emotions and feeling rightly exhausted.

‘Maybe a whiskey with a cup of coffee,’ he thought. ‘That should calm me some. Then back to bed to get some rest. Tomorrow there is much to do,’ he whined.

He made the coffee and added more than two tots to his steaming cupper. It burned his throat as he swallowed greedily. Then he went back to sleep.

In a far-off distance, he was certain he heard a rooster cock-a-doodle-do. In his sleep, he travelled to his childhood, to there where they lived on a farm in the Vaal Highlands. He could taste his mother’s homemade toast with thick homemade butter and homemade fig jam. His nostrils were tingling with the smell of his dad’s pipe tobacco.

Cock-a-doodle-doo, the rooster called again.

He stretched his arms lazily, but feeling less tense than before. He kneaded the balls of his palms on his forehead, then his temples, and then sunk them into his eye sockets. His eyes flickered open and blurrily zoomed in on the clock.

He got up and went into the bathroom. He took his razor blade and started hacking at his stubble. Razor under his chin, that eerie music booms into being!

Voertsek, Jim exploded as he nearly cut his throat.

Shaken, he tried hard to restore control. ‘Enough is enough.’ He was determined to find out where the flipping music was coming from. He lost everything! He refused to lose his mind!

He wiped his face clean and without taking a shower, missioned into the bedroom. As he stepped inside, the music stopped.

No! he screamed. Dear Lord, please don’t tell me that I am going mad!

In his fury, he punched the bedroom door with his fist and slumps down on the floor.

‘Where was that music coming from?’ he puzzled.

After some minutes, he gets up from the floor, and walks back to the bathroom. On the way, he trips on the oil lamp that was standing against the bedroom wall, near the passage. Scolding, he picks up the lamp and just as he was about to place it on the dresser, he thought to himself: ‘Why didn’t I think of this earlier? The music started after I found this lamp.’

He casually sits down on the bed and curiously starts examining the lamp, paying attention to all the detail on it. He noticed faint, warmth radiating from the lamp.

He traced his fingers along the circumference of the lamp and when he brushed past the spout, he felt a light breeze caressing his hand.

He got such a fright he dropped the lamp and jumped onto the bed.

Panic-stricken and heart racing, he doubts if any of this was real.

Once again composed he gets off the bed and picks up the lamp.

‘Silly!’ he mocked then larks, first nervously, then uncontrollably.

‘Idiot!’ he scolded, ‘you are really losing your marbles!’

He leaves the lamp behind in his bedroom then goes for his shower. Returning to his bedroom, he got dressed peeking over at the lamp from time-to-time, with each glance questioning his own sanity evermore.

Once dressed, he ventures with lamp in hand into the lounge. Sitting on the wooden floor, he places the lamp between his legs and starts exploring the lamp once more. He jolted when the warmth started radiating once more from the lamp. This time he really felt it…It is real!

***

In The Mother City, Layla was still at her desk going through her paperwork. She had lost complete track of time. Her manager, Brian, knocked at her door to inform her that it was already past 2am. He had locked up and all the employees had left.

What, 2am? Layla shrieked surprise.

Yip, Brian smirked nervously scratching his chin.

‘There was clearly something on his mind,’ Layla saw, but ignored it.

Go home, she joked.

Brian still lingers. Layla notes that something was definitely wrong.

Brian, what’s up? she asked concerned, putting the papers aside. Are you having problems with the employees?

No, Brian said hesitantly, it’s your brothers, Henjo and Senjo, he informed her.

Out with it, Layla demanded. What is it this time?

Well Layla, Brian started, you know the twins and their tricks; well today was no exception, he continued. A young lad in a wheel chair, he cleared his throat, was passing the restaurant. The twins jumped in front of him and started harassing him. Then they switched his motorised wheelchair to turbo. The young man was propelled from his chair, and landed head first on the pavement; this all in full view of our patrons.

Err! Layla tensed up. Brian, you must please tell me immediately if anything like this ever happens again. This is unacceptable! It is also not good for our business!

Layla had confided in Brian about her plans to get rid of her brothers. He backed her fully. In some ways, Brian was like an angel to her, always looking out for her best interest.

How badly was the young man injured? Layla asked mortified.

Pretty serious, Brian confessed. Layla I didn’t want to disturb you. I knew that today you had set aside to go through the paperwork, but well, Brian swallowed, the youngster had to be taken to hospital. I got Reggie to take him. I also contacted the young man’s parents. They are very poor. I arranged that we pay for the young man’s hospital bills and also gave the parents some cash to be able to visit their son in hospital or if they needed to buy anything.

Dammit! Layla screeched. The twins are such an embarrassment to me Brian, she started crying. I so wish that my parents; especially my dad; was still alive today. You know, my brothers were never this bad. Yes, my dad was not a saint, but it is only after his death that my brothers got heavily involved in criminal activities. My mom could not handle it. I think it is the stress of dealing with them, that caused her untimely death, she wept.

Brian walked over to her. He knelt down next to her and consoled her.

Sh, angel, he comforted. It will all be okay soon, he promised.

‘Brian was very loving,’ she thought looking into his eyes.

Layla often sensed that he had feelings for her, more than just as the Restaurant Manager. She was always conscious not to overstep the boundaries, and not to lead Brian on, or give him any false hope. He held her for a little while longer and then left.

After Brian had left, Layla was fuming with rage. She could not believe what her brothers had done. She realised that she was not only ashamed of them, but that she felt guilty and angry with herself for not trying harder to pay Wang his money back sooner so that the twins could leave the restaurant and go and work on the Estate.

‘Hell! We are the Lee family…We are not a bunch of hooligans and criminals!’ she spat. ‘What are these brothers of mine doing to our family name? Dad worked hard. He was ruthless, but honest, and mom, God Bless her soul! They raised us to be decent and this is what we give back to society? Guaranteed some reporter will come around tomorrow, asking some uncomfortable questions, in spite of the gesture that Brian made to the boy’s family,’ she concluded. ‘And where will the twins be? Nowhere to be found…I’ll have to face the music again, dammit!’ she shrugged. ‘I hate this so much!’ she wailed.

Back to TOC

CHAPTER 5

‘If this is real,’ Jim riddled, ‘then Genies and all sorts of exotic creatures could jump out of this lamp at any moment’. He laughed and then mused: ‘I wonder what I should ask this Genie for?’

Jim got quiet.

What he really wanted most of all was to have his family back. This was the first real moment of humour he has had in a while, and even this moment has now become somber. He was willing to do anything; he was willing to give anything; he was willing to try anything, even if it meant imagining that here was a Genie in this lamp and asking this Genie to return his family to him.

He glanced at the lamp again. ‘What if?’ he mused, ‘this was madness, but the lamp did get warm to his touch. The music; well he was not sure…Then there was the light coming from this lamp. Maybe God is giving me a sign. Maybe that great-grandfather of Bianca’s is speaking to me from the beyond. Maybe such things are possible if one concentrates and willed them into being. I had nothing to lose.’

Jim took a deep breath and focused on the lamp. The lamp started glowing and he felt more heat coming from it.

Hello Genie, Jim said playfully. I guess you know that I am in a broken state, he sighed. "I guess you know that I have reached my threshold. I have nothing left to live