A Bullet For God

by Eben Le Roux

  Chapter 10

  Nervousness followed him as they drove into the parking lot of the city hall. He starred at the empty parking spaces as if in confirmation that he made a mistake. Even if Bruce was a master at his work, he was wrong this time, and nobody was going to show up.

  At the door, he could only see a handful of people and wondered how many could be inside. A huge TV dish was mounted on a mast in front of the building and now it seemed all in vain.

  Still seated behind the steering wheel, Sean turned to Peter and said, ‘Are you thinking what I’m thinking?’

  ‘If you’re thinking about last night’s TV comments about me, I am,’ Peter answered in a notably disappointed voice, and Sean could detect a little sadness in it. The huge parking lot was empty, except for the twenty-odd cars parked there.

  ‘Well, looks like she sure made an impact on her viewers. Just look at this . . . hardly anyone here. Did you see the time? We have only twenty minutes to go, and I don’t think any more people will arrive this late . . .’ Sean said as he switched off the engine of the car.

  Peter could see that Sean was as nervous as he was and, in a way, very disappointed too. His mind was on last night’s show on the Live Entertainment programme. He could not remember the full name of the presenter, but he was sure it was something like Sharon or Shannon. While watching it, he noticed that it was broadcast with intent to discredit the event.

  ‘Do you think we should call it off?’ Sean interfered with his thoughts.

  As Peter’s eyes widened in surprise, Sean followed the direction of his stare to get the full extent of the shock following his surprise. Approaching them was the same woman who had hosted that show, microphone in hand and a camera operator next to her. She came to a halt about two metres from them and, without looking in their direction, carried on speaking into the camera while they watched her awkwardly.

  ‘Good evening, ladies and gentlemen.’ They heard her say. ‘I am Shannon Buoys, broadcasting live from the city hall, where the second “Show of Miracles” was to take place tonight. As most of you know, the pastor was involved in a very serious accident, which put an end to the tour before it could even start. According to a poll on our live show last night, most of you voted that the show should have been cancelled, but for what we call feeding from a dead horse, some unknown individuals had decided to hijack the venues and to call in the services of a homeless hobo to act as a priest. We will try to broadcast you a profile of this mysterious preacher. For those who would like to find out who this person is, stay tuned to Live Show Entertainment tonight.’

  As they listened with shock to the woman, the phone rang in Sean’s pocket. Seeing that it was coming from Ray, it brought some relief to him. Ray sounded anxious and wanted to know how many people were at the hall, for they were being held up in traffic. After getting the information from Sean, he asked to speak to his father.

  ‘Dad, it is me, Ray. Listen, I do not want you to worry about the current situation there. A truck had rolled over on the freeway, and they have just moved it away. There are plenty of people still heading there. Bruce informed me that he had already phoned three radio stations to make announcements that we will start one hour late. Get someone to inform those already in the hall.’

  ‘Thank you, Ray . . . and son; I have that Shannon girl from Live Entertainment here, broadcasting live from the premises.’

  ‘What? Dad, I have to go now. The cars are moving. Get away from that woman fast. Believe me, she is poison. Bruce told me about her. I really have to go now. People are already blowing their hooters at me.’

  In the background, Peter could hear the sounding of car horns and the phone went dead. As Peter handed the phone back to Sean, Shannon walked over to him and asked, ‘Sir, the two of you seem to be part of the crew involved here. I hardly see any more cars coming through the gates. Not even the hobo preacher has arrived yet, and I can see you look very disappointed. Would you agree with me that it would have been better if this were cancelled? Do you think this event should still go ahead with this small turnout and . . . ?’

  She seemed to go on forever and Peter had no choice but to interrupt her. ‘Sorry for the interruption, lady. Yes, everything will go ahead as planned. The hobo that you kept referring to . . . well, that hobo is me.’

  Her surprise was so vast that she was literally taken aback. She tried to say something, but Peter stopped her with a sign of his hand.

  ‘No, you do not have to apologise, for I am the one to thank you for allowing me time to tell your viewers to tune into Channel 91 tonight. I am sure planning to change their mindset forever. So if you would please excuse me, I have a classroom to attend to.’ As he turned to walk away, he could see her anger turning into embarrassment.

  Shannon was furious at this man’s conduct, as he had just used her airspace to advertise himself.

  Bruce’s car stopped just as Peter was about to enter the door. He hurriedly got out to join him. ‘You better get on that stage now, Peter. We cannot make them wait any longer. I myself got caught up in that traffic, and you wouldn’t know how worried I got,’ he said while still managing to force out a smile.

  ‘Do you know that woman?’ Peter asked him, pointing in Shannon’s direction. ‘I have a feeling that she is very much against me going on that stage.’

  Bruce’s smile disappeared almost immediately when he saw Shannon coming in their direction. ‘You go inside while I deal with her,’ he said as he gave Peter a gentle push. Without looking back at Peter, he walked to Shannon, meeting her halfway. ‘I never expected you here. I thought that you were not interested in this hobo,’ he said sarcastically.

  ‘Why are you doing this, Bruce? Do you really think people will fall for this long enough for you to make a living out of it?’

  ‘I am so glad you asked me that question, Shannon. Come through. I am giving you free entrance to see and hear what I was talking about. When he is through with his speech, I hope you won’t blame your regrets on me.’ He turned to the men at the door and said, ‘Let the lady through, but make sure her camera stays outside.’ Knowing he was already late, he rushed inside the building.

  At 7.45 p.m., the hall was over seventy per cent full. Fewer people were coming through the gates, and the gospel band was playing out the last song. A man moved onto the stage, thanked the band, and asked the audience to remain seated as he introduced them to Peter Johnson.

  ‘Ladies and gentlemen,’ he shouted into the microphone, ‘from the lowest point any man can go, living from handouts on the streets of the city, to the man we all came to listen to. I leave you to the words of the Teacher, Mr Peter Johnson.’

  When Peter Johnson walked onto the stage, you could hear the loud sighs of surprise coming from all over the floor. There was no sign of the bum they had seen at the stadium. Today, he was neatly dressed in a white long-sleeved shirt, black and blue striped tie with black trousers that did his long, lean legs proud. With his beard completely shaven off and sporting a number two haircut, he looked much younger than his fifty-eight years. One woman was so impressed with his turnaround in appearance that, without even being aware of it, she shouted louder than what she intended, ‘God is great.’

  Someone else responded, ‘Hallelujah.’

  One man stood up from his seat and very slowly started to clap hands. As if asked to do so, everybody followed his action, including the stage team, applauding him. A warm feeling went through Peter’s heart, and most of the doubt of being there disappeared. Suddenly, he felt more relaxed as he knew he was with the perfect audience. It had been a long time since he had felt respected, and tonight, he felt honoured. His dream of being a teacher again had just been approved. He knew for sure that his faith was not in vain.

  In one short moment, every ounce of confidence returned to Peter Johnson.

  ‘I feel I am home. Thank you . . . thank you for the warmest welcome ever in my life.’

  For a while, he stood looking over them as if he
wanted to see every face sitting there. In that bit of time, there was an almost uncomfortable silence. He started slowly with the same strong voice that some of them had heard previously.

  ‘Earthquakes, they take dozens of lives at a time. Cyclones cause death, destruction, and can disrupt the lives of many. AIDS has been a killer for many years. Millions have already died, and millions are still dying from it. Diseases fatal to humankind can break out at anytime and anywhere. Extreme weather changes are hitting our planet, and many more tragedies are still to follow. We are dying in disasters for which we need mass graves, and we have massacres in which people die by the dozen. One disaster after another is trouncing us now on a regular basis.’ He went quiet, his eyes again searching the audience before he added. ‘I can help you . . .’ he said, pausing briefly before completing the sentence, ‘but...I am unable to.’

  He said it as if he was the Messiah himself. This caused a small stir amongst some people in the audience. He wanted that reaction as he planned to get their full attention.

  Shannon had a smile on her face as this man had just confirmed the fool he was with those words.

  Peter could see the confusion growing in the audience, and he interrupted their thoughts by repeating the same words. ‘I said . . . I can help you . . . but you deny me the opportunity to do so.’

  This time, the stir in the crowd became a bit louder, and he knew it was time to wipe out the confusion.

  ‘Even long before the birth of Christ, God spoke these words.’ He looked at them carefully, as if they were children in a classroom, and they suddenly became more relaxed. ‘I can help you, but I am unable to . . . because you have built too many barriers between you and Me. Very sad words from God . . . very sad words indeed. I want you to remember this verse from Isaiah 59 whenever you wonder why God seems to be so far away from your suffering. For now, let us focus on the lesson for tonight.’

  He paused briefly before he started.

  ‘Jesus died an ugly death. Why did He have to die such a brutal death at the hands of people like us? Who, in fact, was responsible for the death of Jesus Christ? You know, we should not go around saying Jesus died at the hands of Pontius Pilate. We were there, and we had a chance to save him. Christians, I am not shy to say that we, his followers, and not Pilate, played a bigger part in his slaying. Yet, we continue to destroy everything that He was born for, everything that He stood for, and everything for which Jesus died. In our Biblical history, Pontius Pilate is mostly remembered as the one who condemned Jesus to die. This, my fellow Christians, should go down as the greatest blame shifting in our religious history. When Jesus stood in front of him for sentencing, Pilate knew that Jesus was innocent. He knew this man was a saint, and knew of no charges on which to condemn Him to die. Pilate, however, was trapped in a dire situation. He was frantically trying to find a way out of that mess. Remember, he also had to deal with a huge crowd, some of whom were baying for Jesus’ blood. He also knew that his future as a governor was dependent on his decision over the Lord’s destiny. Pilate wanted to let Jesus go, and that same crowd was going to be his ticket out of his mess.’

  His eyes scouted over the people to his left. ‘You heard me right.’ This time, his voice came through stronger. ‘Pilate was determined to let Jesus go, but some people in that crowd wanted Him dead! Pilate, as desperate as he was, had one last trick up his sleeve to save Jesus from that fateful day and, of course, himself from having a part in it. It was during that time of the year that his government would pardon at least one prisoner in the country. Out of desperation, he sent for Barabbas. Now, we all know the story; Barabbas was a hated person, a brutal murderer that had no mercy for his victims. It was going to be easy setting up this disliked criminal against a Godly person such as Jesus. Our Lord was supposed to walk free on that day, but He did not. So, what went wrong that day and why was He still nailed to that cross? Can you imagine the disappointment it must have been for Pilate when the only plan he had, backfired on him? Even if he was a cruel ruler of people, Pilate could never dream that a nation could hate an innocent man so much that the worst criminal should find favour over Him. On that day, Jesus Christ’s followers were given the chance to stand up for Him. Pilate made it so easy for them. He only needed the power behind their voices but, no matter what he tried, he failed because some of the people in that crowd wanted Jesus dead.’ He paused again before he carried on, ‘Please take note that I said some of the people wanted him dead, not the majority of the people. My fellow Christians and friends, what Pilate did not know was that what was happening to him was already written in the scriptures. So sure was God that His Son would be brutalised and killed by humans that He had it written in the scriptures even long before Jesus’ birth. The tragedy of that day could only be changed by humans themselves. God was proving a point that the betrayal of Jesus did not stop with Judas; more were to come at His trial. Even Jesus, when pleading with His Father, said, ‘Father, if it is Your will, please let this cup pass me by.’ You see, not even a plea from Jesus himself could stop his brutal execution as his fate was only in the hands of his followers.’

  He allowed for a short silence again.

  ‘As a reward for His suffering, God was transforming His Son into a Holy Spirit, and He wanted Him to know exactly with what and with whom He was going to deal with in this world of sin. While Jesus awaited death on that cross, He realised that even killing the good and innocent would not stop humans from reaching their evil goals. Hence the words, ‘Father forgive them.’

  So why am I telling you the story of Jesus’ death? By now, everybody should have learnt about it. Well, in most cases, we only know the children’s version of this story. Tonight, please allow me to give you my own adult version.’ He searched the floor as if he expected some objection from there. ‘We know that Jesus lived his whole life talking to people, mostly in parables. I have no doubt that His death literally was a parable. Tonight, we will look at that parable. We will look at the hours before He died and compare it with the way we are living today.’

  For the first time since he started, there was a noise in the hall. Someone dropped what sounded like a book. Trying to retrieve it, the person took some attention away from him, and he allowed time for them to recover. When it was quiet again, he continued, ‘When Jesus was sent to King Herod, everyone thought the death sentence was going to be passed on him there. Herod could find nothing justifiable with the charges against Jesus and sent Him back to Pilate. For Pilate, Jesus was now nothing less than a hot potato. As I said previously, he believed in His innocence. The last force between the life and death of Jesus was the crowd in front of him. Now, let us break down the crowd from that day. We had the king, whose word was law. He could have given the instruction to release Jesus, but he did not. Believing that Jesus was innocent, he referred him back to the governor. The governor, who could have stopped the proceedings right there along with the word of the king, was more concerned about losing his position if he did not please the people. We had the soldiers, who were the police in those days, the ones who enjoyed being in charge and loved to show off their powers . . . not calling for calm, but assisting in brutalising His death. We had some of the people, the ones who enjoyed sinful living. They were the criminals, the sinful, the intellectuals, and the idols that saw Jesus’ prophecies as an interference with their immoral lifestyles. They knew very well how Jesus disliked their lifestyles and the manner in which they made their money. They were only there hoping to get rid of him...for good. Lastly, we had the silent ones, the ones who cried tears and felt anguish while watching as Jesus was condemned, tortured, and led away to be hung with nails. My fellow Christians, on that day I believe that the most damaging lot of them all were the silent ones with the tears streaming from their eyes. Not surprisingly, that silent lot were the majority.’

  He paused again, and seeing some surprise on some faces, he continued, ‘Today, I want you to spare a thought for Pontius Pilate. On that day, he needed
help. He just needed assurance from that same majority that it would be fine to release Jesus. He needed your voice. Unfortunately, he was let down. Pilate honestly never wanted to be in that position, for he never wanted to pass judgement over our Christ, and, according to the scriptures, he did not. He left Jesus in their hands. Hugely disappointed, he said to the people, “He is yours, do with him as you please as I will have no part in this”. I do not have to remind you that Jesus ended up dead. Ladies and gentlemen, we have so much in common with that crowd. First, spare a thought for the morals of this world today. Today, every single moral value of life is slowly being taken away from us. Is it not true that most of us are still in the habit of keeping quiet? Is it not that we are hoping that a miracle will save us from the mess that we are in? Hence, that is why we are still the same quiet lot. Is it not true that the quiet ones in the crowd on that day hoped that Jesus would escape death with a miracle created by either God or Himself? Christians of today, Pilate did not know that God had it planned or that he was the one chosen to have the final decision over Jesus’ fate. He did not know that he was already part of the scriptures of the Bible as you and I know it today . . . and neither did the silent crowd of that day. What about us... the modern-day Christian? Has Christianity now been declared an optional extra in our lives? Has it become some sort of club membership, where you can upgrade as the situation or your financial status suits you? Every new constitutional freedom cancels one more biblical commandment from God. We are living in so much freedom that we disregard the fact that we had become Godless. We are moving away from religion so fast that we are back at that cross, watching Jesus die all over again . . . in silence. Morals are being shattered, societies torn apart, and still we do not find it necessary to save Christ this time. That day, in front of Pontius Pilate, the majority allowed a few to shout louder than what they could. Today, the same few are showing again, what their little power can do against the silence of many. Jesus was stripped naked and made to look like a fool while they gambled his clothes away. Are we not watching this again in modern life? Are we not watching how we had become ignorant to respect one another? Why is it always the case that a million good people will stand by and allow a few hundred evil ones to speak louder than them? Why is it that only when the wrong is done and when the wrong becomes a custom that we want to speak out and cry? Why, when we do start talking about it, will it always be with the neighbour or as individuals, or even to sell our sad stories to newspapers and magazines? All Pontius Pilate needed that day was the roar of that crowd to save Jesus. Today, that roar is still missing; hence we are now following the path of the vandals of morals.’

  He paused to drink from a glass of water standing on a table next to him. ‘Christians of this world, we kept quiet on the day Christ was condemned. We kept quiet when the law protected sin, and we are still keeping quiet while others are destroying every moral around us. Therefore, if you pray and scream in desolation for God or for the Holy Spirit, and still no miracles are coming your way, just remember that you had chosen to suffer . . . in silence. We are so aware of his presence, yet we continue to ignore His suffering. We have chosen to watch Him die, over, and over . . . in silence. Therefore, I am asking you tonight, what if you had been present on the day Christ was crucified. Would you have been shouting for his death, or would you have been suffering with Him . . . silently? Imagine how happy Barabbas must have been. Barabbas was a killer, a murderer, the worst criminal and he must have been the only one who benefited from that day’s silence. Now, imagine how many more hooligans are enjoying your silence every day. You, Mr Christian, you are nothing but a silent investment for the immoral idols and criminals of today. That day, when Jesus was tortured to death, God did not only expose our physical brutality but also the ruthlessness that our silence can cause. So if you think you can stay silent for just a little while longer . . . remember, that same silence that killed Christ is now killing thousands of innocent people every day. With Pilate no longer around, whom would we now wish to blame? Jesus could give us so many answers with one parable. Thus, with this parable, I hope I have placed you amongst the crowd in front of Pilate. Please go found out exactly where you fit in. Goodnight, and thank everyone around the world for giving me this remarkable hour in my life. God bless all of you.’

  For a full minute, there was absolute silence in the hall. Then, as if instructed to do so, they all got to their feet and, for the second time that night, he got a standing ovation. As Peter left the stage, the band started to play ‘Wake up everybody’.

  From where Shannon was sitting, she realised how difficult it would be to make a bad report about this man. The long-lasting applause said it all. As tough as she was, she had to acknowledge the man has wisdom. He was beyond doubt as good as Bruce was saying. As much as she was fighting against it, his words had stirred her emotions.

  At twenty minutes past ten, Ray parked the car in the garage with Jason fast asleep on the back seat. Not wanting to wake him, he decided it best to carry him into the house. He battled a little to get the front door open with Jason in his arms. As he closed the door, using his right foot, he noticed a champagne glass on the table next to the couch. He looked at it in a very curious way as he knew his wife did not use alcohol during the week, unless at a function. He took Jason to his room, making sure he was comfortably tucked in before he switched the light off. Just before going to his room, his eyes caught the image of another glass next to the flowerpot. He picked it up, smelt it, then walked over to the other glass and did the same. He placed the glasses in the sink, opened the fridge door, and saw that less than half of the champagne was left in one bottle. With more suspicion, his eyes moved around the room for anything else out of the ordinary. Seeing nothing else, he walked over to switch off the light. With his hand on the light switch, he felt his left foot kicking a loose object on the floor. Startled, he stood in that position as if frozen. In front of his feet was a man’s wallet. The sight of this hit him like a ten-pound hammer. Here lay confirmation of what he had suspected for a long while. His wife was having an affair. The thought of that happening in his house brewed anger within him. The urge to rush into the room and choke the truth out of his wife was busy overcoming him. He opened the wallet and took out the driver’s licence from the holder. He saw the name Robert Clark and slowly replaced it in the wallet. He could not allow this to go on any longer. This selfish thinking of her had to stop. It was not about him or her; it was about the family. Ray knew he had to consult with the wisdom stored in his mind, a mind that was courteously shaped by his father. Still holding the wallet, he put his head into his hands and walked over to the couch to sit. He was a totally broken man and wanted to cry for a relationship and marriage that did not seem to work. He loved his wife, and this was causing his pain to multiply. With his mind in turmoil, he found it hard to think straight. He had been fighting himself for having the idea of suspecting her of having an affair.

  It all started seven years ago, when he brought it to her attention that he would like them to have a second child. It would be wise, he thought, to have a playmate for Jason. The two could grow up together, and this would build a strong bond between them. That day his wife told him, in no lesser words, that she was not ready to be pregnant again. It came as an insult to him when she said she wanted to establish her career first. Even when he offered to let her work in his studio, he could not get her to change her mind. His eyes again fell on the two glasses, and he felt as if he could scream out his anger. Instead, he fought harder against it. Up until now, there had been no proof that his wife was having an affair. For him to rush into an argument and blame her for something this low was not his nature. He thought of their son, always so lonely and quiet at home. Sometimes, he did not have enough time to spend with him, and he cried at the loneliness of a boy he would die for. He started thinking of his father who he so desperately wanted to come and stay with them. The last setback his father needed now was another unhappy home, especia
lly if that home formed part of his own children. He would not make his father feel like a loser again. Peter had been very optimistic for him, always telling him how he counted on him to be a success. Today, he could speak of success. He can still remember how tough it was to establish a photographic studio on his own amidst tough competition. In addition, he had added live recordings for smaller television stations. Although he could live comfortably with the income from the two companies, he still longed to create a happy family within his home. His wife denied him the chance to fill the emptiness he had felt for the last seven years, a playmate for Jason, his own brother, or sister. Through the sadness, a smile still managed to force itself onto his face as he thought of the good times he had growing up with Ross. It has been his dream to give that same relationship to Jason from within this house. Seeing the glasses again reminded him of the sorrow he had since then. He placed the wallet on the coffee table and walked towards the bedroom after switching off the light.

  Tonight, he knew he had to address this problem as it was eating away at his soul. He also knew that he had to control the hurt inside. He remembered his father’s warning; ‘It is the hurt inside a man that is fuelling the anger within him.’ Tonight, he knew he had to regard that advice very highly. As he walked into the bedroom, he felt no anger, just the earnestness to have this matter sorted. Slowly he walked around the bed to wake her up. Looking at her while she lay sleeping, he could see her beauty. Her long hair was covering her face only halfway, and he had that urge to kiss her. He bent over and moved the hair away from her face with his index finger, slowly but with passion.

  His touch made her move, and she slowly opened her eyes. ‘Ray . . .’ she whispered in a sleepy voice. She stretched out her arms, hooked them around his neck, and pulled him closer.

  Still in a whispering voice, she said to him, ‘I love you, Ray.’ She pulled him closer, and the next moment she kissed him passionately.

  With one hand, he held tightly onto her and tried desperately to get in under the blanket with the other. He could still faintly smell champagne on her breath. That did not matter anymore as he was totally overcome by the sexual desire within him. Within minutes, they made passionate love, and all the thoughts of addressing their problems were gone and forgotten. It was only later, when she brought up the subject of her work, that it became a topic again. They were still laying awake holding hands when she started the topic.

  ‘Ray, I got some good news tonight.’

  He instantly rose to a sitting position with his thoughts immediately on the glasses and the wallet.

  ‘My boss was here tonight, and we celebrated my new position in the company.’

  With his surprised came fast heartbeats of suspicion. ‘New position . . . ?’

  She could hear some disappointment in his voice. ‘Yes! As from next week, I will be second in charge of the branch. Rob is retiring, and Steve will move into his position. I heard the news today that I was the successful applicant for the position of assistant branch manager.’

  It became tough for Ray to confront her, for she sounded so happy. Something reminded him that it was selfish joy, and he had no choice but to address his problem. Although not easy, he pushed himself into asking his question. ‘How come you never told me you’d applied for a promotion? Don’t you think . . . ?’

  She interrupted him because she knew where this was heading. ‘Ray, I submitted my application only this week. Everybody in the company knew that the position was going to go to Leonard Malcolm, so I never bothered to apply. When Leonard resigned last week, Steve told me to apply because there were not many people within the company that could match my credentials. My only competition would be persons from outside the company. As you can see, it paid off.’

  Ray felt a bit angry and disillusioned. He was not jealous of his wife, but he knew for sure that he was not going to get another child soon, and Jason would have to do with a part-time mother forever. For him, this was confirmation that his wife was not in this marriage for the family. There was still too much for her to achieve out there. All the thoughts of twenty minutes ago came rushing back to him. How could she still apply for a higher position in the company when he had offered her a job in the studio with much more flexible hours? She could have enough time to be the mother their son longed for. If his wife was not having an affair, then her work was in competition with his family. He refused to have it either way.

  ‘I still think you could at least have told me. Do you think it is nice for a husband to be the last person to know about such matters?’ There was concern in his voice, and she could detect it instinctively.

  ‘Please, Ray, it was foremost in my thoughts to tell you, but with this matter of your father lately, I thought it best to wait and put myself second. I know how greatly you value your dad, and I wanted you to assist him wholeheartedly.’

  She said it with so much concern that he felt the impact of her words deep in his heart.

  ‘Tell me, this Rob person; is his name perchance Robert Clark?’ Ray asked her.

  As was expected by Ray, it startled her, and she was virtually sitting up in bed after hearing the question.

  ‘You know him?’

  ‘No, his wallet was lying on the living room floor tonight. Was he the one celebrating with you?’

  The expression on his face said a lot more than the question.

  ‘Ray, don’t get the wrong impression here,’ she said, facing him directly.

  ‘There was a farewell party for Leonard at the office today, while, at the same time, the announcement of my promotion was made. Robert could not make it. From what we heard, his meeting with the company directors took an hour longer than what was planned. He came here especially to congratulate me because he won’t be at the office for the rest of next week. How his wallet was left behind, I have no clue.’

  “Kim, I am your husband and I love you. Please do not give me reasons do doubt our married life.”

  What is it with you Ray? Why can’t we spend some quality time together with peace of mind? You always have some screwed-up thoughts on your mind, and I wish you could believe in me . . .’

  ‘Listen to me, Kim, and I want you to listen very carefully as I am not going to bring this subject up again, I swear, not ever again!’ The anger could not restrain him from talking loudly. ‘There are certain subjects you refuse to talk about, and it is killing me by having doubts about me not being the only man in your life. Some men would kill just for having these kinds of thoughts. Let me tell you something . . .’ He got out from under the blankets to stand in front of the bed, facing her. ‘I know conditions are very bad between us. To be honest, I do not even know if you still regard me as a husband. Was the lovemaking we just had supposed to be a damn favour you’re doing for me? If ever the worst has to happen in our marriage, you have my word, I will not harm you . . . not in a thousand years will I harm any member of my family. So if you have someone else out there or better things to do with better people than your family, please do not use this house and this family as your storage room.’

  ‘You have all these things in your mind, and still you made love to me? You must be some hell of a bloody freak if you are able to do that,’ she said with a very hard look of disgust. ‘Look, if you want to leave, you can leave now. Daddy might have a space on his mattress for you. You want to be stuck in the gutters like him, then go. Besides, I do not have time for this crap; I need some sleep. I will have much more responsibility at work now and I need the rest.’ Still fuming, she pulled the blankets up and turned her back on him.

  He stood in disbelief, shaking his head while he said, ‘Kim, I would like to know what happened to that woman who I once thought loved me as much as I love her. Everything in this house is second to your commitments outside of it. By the way, I am bringing my father to this house whether you like it or not. This house is big enough for him and that mattress you are referring to.’

  She wished he could stop his preaching, as
her guilty conscious was already harsh enough. She had an ambition and her dream was so close, maybe two or three years and she could be an executive at head-office. She had been missing Peter just as much and hoped her husband could convince him to stay with them. That might make up for the loneliness of their son. Giving up her job or, becoming pregnant again, was completely out of the question. There was still too much for her to achieve out there.