No one knows...No one comes...
My bare chest, stomach, thighs and bruised knees were in direct contact with the granite ground. My head was faced down and my exiled breath raised dust into my nostrils. I didn't cough, I just chocked silently.
Around me dotted about seventy other men lying partially naked on their stomach with one instruction surrounding us all. Silence.
I didn't know where I was, but I knew I was deep, deep in the heart of a forest.
When I aired my interest to Charles of being part of his brotherhood, he got me prepared and on the seventh day, he showed up at my door.
"Are you ready?" Charles asked.
I looked at the two virile men standing behind him. "I guess..." paranoia crept into me. "So do...do I need to get anything?"
"You can come with us now if you are ready."
I followed them and we hopped into a black van.
"You would have to put this on." Charles handed me a hood. "It's going to be fine." He assured.
I took the hood and slid it over my head. With my sight gone, my other senses heightened and when the van roared to life, it sounded louder.
I tried to keep track of the van but it seemed as if we rode around my block. The van was dead silent but we were enveloped by noise; honking of horns here and there and mixed voices.
I knew the process had begun because Charles told me that I would be blindfolded in a van that would drive to an unknown location.
The van rolled to a stop. "Are we there y—"
"No it's the light," Charles interjected calmly.
We rode for some minutes and I noticed that the enthusiasm of the night faded and it seemed that we rode through a deserted area. The van was so quiet that I could hear my heartthrob against my rib cage. My pores oozed sweat, even my arid palm became clammy.
"Charles," I called softly.
He answered immediately. "We are almost there." He patted my shoulder.
I wished I could dig into my chest and engulf my heart in my palm to manually reduce its drunken pulsing.
The van stopped again and I heard voices outside the van. "Are we there yet?" I asked. There was no response. "Charles?" No response.
The van began to move but slowly—like the tires rolled. I felt the van stir right...then left...then it suddenly accelerated. I gripped the snag that had torn out from the leather seat.
For four long minutes, the van sped straight and didn't make a turn. My collar drenched in sweat. Although I had prepared for this moment for six days; watching and reading large pdfs on the process of initiation into a brotherhood. Even the mysterious hints from Charles, nothing matched the terrified feeling tightening at the pits of my stomach.
I felt light movement towards me then the calm voice of Charles whispered to my ear.
"Remember everything I told you?"
"Bro..." my voice hooked. "This is starting to get creepy."
"Don't forget any."
I felt the chill of something encircling my wrist. I jolted.
"Charles!" I made to stand but Charles' powerful hands waged my shoulders.
"What are you doing..Don't handcuff me!"
"Don't forget what I told you." I barely heard it but I knew that was what he said. The van rode over a pothole and I jerked.
"But you didn't tell me about—"
"If you keep disturbing I would kill you." One of the other men cut in and it sent chills through my body, erupting my hairs on ends. I propped tight against the chair, my heart throbbing with a drunken rhythm.
Apparently, the man that spoke sat opposite with Charles and the other; probably pointing a gun at me.
I have never been so scared in my life. For the minutes the van sped until now it rolled to a stop, all I did was breath. My bladder refilled rapidly but my tongue was bloated and I couldn't utter a word.
The van clicked and the slide-door roared open. Are we there yet? I could only ponder.
At least six heavy foot entered the van. One began to speak but I wasn't familiar with the dialect. I felt someone slide in beside me, then another and by my left. They compressed my lanky body like Sardine and I instantly felt their warm aura. It was like being inches away from hot iron. The one still standing spoke again, the voice tuned up, becoming more persistent.
"He said," the ghastly voice that threatened to kill me spoke. "You should put that on...look at the boy beside you!"
"Nobody told me anything—"
There was silence...I guess the man saw something...yes, that was a logical explanation for such a mid-sentence freeze. I wanted nothing else than to tear this hood off my head.
The van began to move again. I motioned to grip the snag but I felt flesh. I diverted my trembling hands to my trouser and began to squeeze on it.
Charles had told me some nights ago that it was all a process and I shouldn't be scared. Although he didn't tell me about the cuffs, I had come to admit that it was the process.
I shut my eyes and inhaled deeply; sucking in air until my lungs could no longer accommodate then exhaled slowly. I began to control my aching heart and extended breath, only to hear the ones beside me.
The van rolled to a stop.
"We are here." Charles yanked the hood off my head.
Momentary distorted by the rush of light—also forgetting my hands were cuffed—I raised my right hand but my left trailed along. And with such instinctive speed, my fingers bruised Charles' eyes. "Fuck!" Charles cursed. In an attempt to stand erect, his head slammed the roof of the van. "Shit!" he stumped. "I am fine...I am fine." He turned to me, standing directly under the roof light, "Like a said, we are here." He smiled and when he motioned to un-cuff me, I saw his blood clothed eye.
I felt considerable weight lift off the van and moments later the slide-door roared open. A fat bald man in black polo materialized. But I was more concerned with what I saw over his shoulders. A forest?
"Okay that's it," the fat man clapped. "Hop off!"
I looked at Charles and he nodded.
Behind the fat man, a narrow path trailing into the forest became visible. The fat man walked around the van and hopped in. one of the men escorting Charles rode shotgun and the van zoomed off.
"Charles! How are-"
"He would be back," Charles said. "Meanwhile, this is Joshua and Nonso," he didn't introduce the two men standing behind him.
I quickly brushed my gaze on them; Nonso was short and built while Joshua was plumped with a childlike face.
"They would be joining your milli." milli was slang for initiation. I stretched and shook them briefly.
Charles switched on a flash and I hoped on hope that we wouldn't walk through the path, but Charles was already paving his way through, bending and breaking protruding branches.
I was the last on the train. While the flashlight dangled in front, held by Charles, I trailed behind Joshua, blindly following his footsteps. Whenever I notice a squirm in his movement—like he kicked something—only then did I redirect my steps.
In anxious anticipation of our destination, probably the place, "Some men would materialize out of the night and ask you to lose your clothes." When Charles told me that, I wondered...materialize...out of the night...it sounded off and I was thinking voodoo, but walking this narrow path with the thoughts of virile men obscured in the bushes made me quiver.
"Walk up!" I whispered to Joshua. He was slow and we were losing the train. I overtook him and closed the gap.
I strode behind one of the unnamed men and he seemed to walk with a kind of intuitive recognition; knowing when to duck and hop. I couldn't keep up with him and I had begun to kick stumps here and there.
There was a loud rhythmic whistle, then a reply from one of us. I couldn't tell who, but Charles told me it was a kind of password. And if done wrongly; say under pressure; a shaky voice; a tone that warrants suspicion, protocol follows. I could only imagine the protocol that was observed in a location like this.
Cobwebs and stuff had stuck to my face and it was impossible to fend off the branches while guiding my face from the cobweb and insects at the same time.
I instinctively craned when I heard a rustle behind—but it was Joshua catching up. It was my first time looking back since the journey began and it was literary midnight dark.
"Bro," Joshua called. I didn't crane nor respond.
"Bro...I am too scared...I am turning back!" he held my shoulder.
"Leave me the fuck alone!" I yelled.
"Bring it down."
"They can shout all they want," Charles chuckled. "no one would hear them."
The man in front of me wasn't breaking the branches like Joshua did; he meandered them with little or no branch touching him. With the intense eagerness I used to follow him, I had branches slapping my face. I bent the ones I could, but most of it scuffed me.
I heard a quick shuffle behind me. I craned and saw Joshua running backward; disappearing into the night. I swallowed. "Charles!" I called and my voice hooked as I tried to speak. I cleared my throat "Joshua ran off."
The train stopped. Charles meandered the line to me. "Where?" I pointed and he flashed the torch to the path decorated with broken branches. There was no sign of him. Charles craned to me. "Do you remember all I told you?"
"Yea?" He handed the flash to me, "I can't leave Joshua out here alone," said Charles. "Asika, Tom and I would go after him."
"All three of you?" Nonso's tiny voice cut in. "we...we can't wait here." I momentary gazed at his muscular body.
"You would have to continue without us," said Charles. "David knows the way."
"I do?"
"Yes, continue straight ahead and you would see the talking light."
"Talking light?! But-"
"Just remember not to be scared...and hold the torch here." He pressed my hand firmly to the barrel.
I wanted to say something but they were already in motion. Nonso and I stood still until their footsteps faded into the night.
Dead silence.
"Let's keep moving," I said.
"I...I think we should wait for them." Nonso's tiny voice aggravated me. How can such a muscular body produce such a soft voice?
I ignored him and strode on. My heart ached with every nibble and determined step I took. The torch became slippery in my clammy hands and fell. The lights went off. I motioned to pick it but my eyes got hooked with a tongue of fire.
"Switch on the-"
"Look!" I pointed to the tongue of fire.
"That can't be the light, it's too small."
"Who would come out here, in the middle of the freaking night and light a candle?" My voice as low as whispers. "I am heading for it." I switched on the torch and the virgin path before me shone in the unsteady flash.
As slowly as possible, I approached the light. The background around the fire became more pronounced with every step. The light was held by a red-clad person; a kind of menorah. Some feet away from the human-menorah: the candle, some men tore out of the bushes. I didn't tremble like Nonso but I was equally stricken. I never knew the heart literary ached
*
The story continues in the next part.
"Turn that off!" One of the men said. "And remove your clothes!"
within seconds I was unclad in my white pants, and no shoes; feeling every detail of the earth beneath my feet. One of the men gestured for me to forge ahead. And as slowly as possible, I approached the human menorah.
Partially clueless and scared, I craned not able to gaze the visage of the menorah.
"No one knows," the menorah's voice cuts in slowly as if giving thoughtful weight to every syllabus. "No one comes, except?"
"Willingly!" I hastily replied.
"The journey one shall take shall be red, white and black?"
"Mysterious!"
"What is greater?"
"The unknown."
I felt the weight of his hand on my shoulder, I didn't still crane.
"One shall be a strong branch during the storm, yet as obedient as the leaves to the wind." He circled something around my head then stood aside. "One shall forge ahead and relief one's self of scorpions."
I strode past him and continued on the narrow path. My hair erupting as the branches brushed my skin. I began to shiver. It wasn't the fact that I was bare-bodied, but the overflow of fear in my heart.
"The narrow road to hell is littered with green monsters that don't bite, but sing, that don't kill but give life." Four days ago, sitting across Charles in a restaurant, he walked me through a metaphorical map of my initiation. "Yet parasites are obscured in them. Remember," he sipped his Coke. "One's heart shall never fill with scorpions."
"Scorpions?"
"Fear...One shall—"
"Charles," I leaned forward and spoke in whispers. "I am not really appreciating the third-person view."
"I am only trying to prepare you justifiably so—"
"Justifiably?"
"Yea!" his voice tuned up. "So when you fuck up and your head is chopped off your neck I would be justified...and you can sit back and stop whispering you are drawing attention."
I looked around and everybody seemed to be minding his or her business. Charles took a deep breath and asked, "What is the first answer?"
"Willingly,"
"Second?"
"Mysterious,"
"Third?"
"You know, I am more interested in the questions and the who that would ask them."
"You know I can't tell you that, but trust me you would recognize."
I thought about it for a while. "Would I be asked to strip before or after—"
"I have told you this so many times!"
"No, just once."
I looked around I caught staring eyes. Probably because two virile men spoke of striping. "Now people are staring." I informed.
"We should leave." Charles said.
"What?"
He pushed his chair back and motioned up. "You are paying."
I dug into my pocket and retrieve some crumpled notes which I threw into the empty plate and tagged along.
Charles slid his hood on as we stepped out the door.
Honk of horns, roaring engines and different mix of voice filled the sunny day. Charles strode with an eerie calmness; he had both hands dug in his pocket, taking consecutive steps.
"Be the leaf? That's all you would tell me for the next step?" I asked anxiously, "So after the questions, I am meant to be the leaf?"
"One is to remember that one can only see—"
"The picture being painted," I completed. "I know...I know, but I need you to elaborate on the leaf thing."
"Remember, one's heart shall not fill with scorpions." Charles said, his voice barely audible over the day. For the next four minutes or so, we strode silently; absorbing the day's sun.
I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply. For some arcane reason I wasn't scared, because I had strained my mind's eye to picture a narrow path littered with green monsters, that don't bite, but sing, that don't kill but give life. All I could picture was the incredible hulk duplicated and littered through a street.
"One," I said, "means singularity, independence."
"Yes, one shall not—" Charles stopped mid-sentence. He craned to me. "Bro, always remember that you came alone."
With the one-theory dangling in my head, I didn't slow my pace or look back for Nonso. All I could think of was 'being the leaf.'
The head of the torch exploded and my already quickened pulse momentary paused. I instinctively let go of the body and whisked away. What the...!
I craned and couldn't see past 1km of space. I began my breathing therapy; sucking in enough air and exhaling. I took the first step, feeling every detail of earth beneath my feet; my hands were stretched, as a blind man's to break protruding branches obscured in the night.
"Be the leaf," I said under my breath. I felt my molecules vibrate—as if they were being over-charged by energy. It was Fear.
I heard an eerie creak behind me. I stopped to make sure it wasn't my steps. I heard a branch creak again. I shut my eyes admitting someone was following me.
"Nonso!" I whispered audibly. A branch broke again, then like a predictor—finally gauging and locking its prey—I heard rather than saw something accelerate through the bushes.
I whirled and took off, not minding I was nature-blind. Leaves flew into my eyes and branches scuffed my body, then I tripped over something and fell. I felt flesh peel off my knee.
The fuss in the bushes had disappeared and my eyes had adjusted to the night; having been partially blinded from the little explosion. Now I could see some feet off the path narrowing into the night.
I sprang up then felt the painful itch at my knee. Apparently, fear overshadowed pain, so I ignored it and leaped forward.
I didn't run too long to have outrun whatever was chasing me. It must have stopped on its own accord.
I heard an outplaced rustle, I stopped dead in my tracks; my head craning to all directions. "shit!" I caused inwardly. I heard another rustle then the sudden outburst.
I ran, with partial advantage of my improved sight; I meandered the branches, ducking and jumping over stumps. The uproar had stopped but I didn't. I wanted to put as much distance between me and whatever was chasing me.
Be the leaf...as obedient as the leaves to the wind. It didn't make sense to me. Nothing made sense anymore. I stopped. Breathing heavily.
"The green monsters are the trees." I connected some obvious dots to see if something would intuitively come to my head. "That don't bite...they obviously don't bite..." I clenched my eyes trying to flicker ideas, but I heard the rustle again. I took off before anything. I ran as far and fast as I could.
There was also a voice emanating into my head, telling me that I would die here. it took so much will-power to parget a force field that sealed the voice in. This force field was fueled by the little hope in me. Hope, that all this was all the process.
I ran out of breath but I took one more step. Spider webs, leaves, and stuff stuck to my sweaty body. I was breathing heavily; my chest pumping like that of a boxer.
When I heard the last rustling, an answer intuitively came to me: the rustle is the singing of the trees. Probably originating from poetry. Or so I thought. Even if I was correct, I didn't know what to do next.
My breath had leveled, so I ploughed on; my knee itching with every tethering step. Be the leaf... I plucked a leaf and perused it, trying to feel some connection with the leaf. It didn't seem productive but I kept looking at it in the night—like I was going to see something I haven't seen in my twenty-nine years of consciousness.
It was said that the human mind works best when pressed, but I was tensed, scared and tired, yet nothing made sense; I couldn't connect the dots, although I knew they wanted me to.
I jolted as someone that has been zapped back to consciousness when I heard the sudden unheralded outburst. But I was too tired and weak to run. I tightened my muscles and stood still like a log of wood. Two men tore out of the bushes wielding machete. I shut my eyes at once. They ran into me and I fell. They continued like they didn't notice me.
I heard their footsteps and creak of branches fade into the night, then I heard it fade in. The footsteps lunged forward and the virile men came into sight. Their faces were obscured in the night, but their massive stature shaped vividly.
"One!" His powerful hand quack my chest and I fell. "Who are you?" He yelled.
"My name is—"
"Shut up!" The other man said. His voice was lighter than the other. "Stand up!" he said.
I sprang up. "Move!" he pointed backward with his machete.
I was about to say something when he swung the machete, I ducked and it chopped into the tree beside me.
Shit!
*
The story continues in the next part.
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