Homecoming of the gods

by Frank Achebe

  It was a hope that his mother had clutched to her heart. She rarely spoke of it for she feared that it would mock her judgement. But it gave her comfort with which she departed.

  In the April of ’94, things had changed to prove her right in her vision. Without any real motivation, Zach had set out to try his hands—or in this case, his life—at some missionary volunteering work. The Lord’s Vineyard Missions came quite handy.

  However, it did turn out that this Missions were overrun by crooks who were using it to launder money across the Atlantic. Some actions followed the discovery: some actions that led him beyond the boundary lines he had created for himself. The three years that followed changed his life. As it did many others. He could not have remained the same person.

  # # #

  Some of the knight’s words were thought-worthy though Zach could not find a place for them in the barrage of things and people’s on his to-think list. One of them would come handy for my readers though.

  ‘I believe that in the world to come, one would have to sacrifice his humanity to be able to live in it. To survive the times to come, one would become more beast and less man. That is the only sacrifice that will guarantee one’s survival. That’s the way I see it. And mind you, young sir, these are not my words for you to take. Judge for yourself. Everyone is talking of the new millennium in high spirits—as if the old has passed. This would happen and that would happen and the world will be a better place for mankind. Tell me about it. I’m afraid all of that is merely an escape from the past and of course from its condemnation of our pride. It’s a world that will be inherited by those of your age, with that youthful ambiance of hopefulness that comes with a ruinous self-indulgence. People of grey hair like me will be dismissed as ‘old-school’ and ‘conservative’, those of us that have history behind us, and you know the sound of that. But hell no, we are indeed old-school. A man’s greatest gift may as well be the catalogue of experience that he carries about with him. (Yeah, one’s conscience ought not let him trample on the witness of history and the past. One can always hide in its shadows.) It is certainly not his intelligence. But your age, young sir, will mistake the later for the former…. The coming century is new indeed but it will never really be theirs, until they have exhausted its promise. It has happened before and it’s going to happen again. This century was where they experimented with lofty and bizarre ideas. You know the sound of it. In the years gone by, humankind was led and ruled by ideas and ideas alone—and of course by those who wagered these ideas. The result of the experiment were two world wars and numerous others. For none of those ideas ever came off for all their loftiness and promise. And trust the prophet in me, the coming age is going to be far worse. They are going to experiment not only with bizarre ideas but with immodest ones. Ideas or not? There is going to be more experimentation, more high-sounding ideas to throw at mankind. That’s a fact of history, and the consequence will be blood, blood everywhere. I can’t tell what those ideas will be but trust me, it’s going to happen. It never will get better. I will be shaking in my grave if it ever does.’

  # # #

  Borûn could now manage to pay for a hairdo and now as she sat and waited on her sister, she listened to a typical salon chat/gossip. There were three women in the small hall in addition to her sister, Peace and a fifth lady who worked alongside her.

  She did not really have much to say. If she did, she did not bother doing so. She was in a pensive mood.

  From brevity sake, I have abridged the chit-chat.

  ‘Most men of nowadays don’t really have the courage to stake their lives on a woman. It’s either they do it half-heartedly or they don’t do it at all.’

  ‘That was why I told Ennā to leave that boy. It’s the thing between the legs that he’s after. Once he get’s it, he will remind you that he’s poor and is currently unable to put pen to paper.’

  ‘She’s felt a pinch of it. No wonder she’s been losing weight.’

  ‘You know Ennā wouldn’t give herself away like that. I told her to be careful because if not, it will be taken from her.’

  ‘She really liked him.’

  ‘More than that, she loved him. And I told her don’t ever let him know. Don’t give up yourself because he cannot afford to love. He will make a mockery of it and of you. Only a few men can.’

  ‘I doubt there are even men like that.’

  ‘She put it on him?’

  ‘She did. It was her first time. She confessed to me that he took her with very little tenderness. Didn’t you see the way she’s been walking. It was as if she didn’t even exist that moment. It was just about him going off and leaving her behind.’

  ‘I wonder how a woman can make her way in this world.’

  ‘You have to prepare to play the victim to a whole lot of people that you are better than, under normal circumstances and given better conditions of life.’

  ‘What will a woman do in our world?’

  ‘God help us….’

  ‘Besides, the sex thing was made for men.’

  ‘It’s like God hates women. He has a preference for men.’

  ‘No childbirth for them. It’s like everything was made to go their way.’

  ‘Well, I believe that a woman can still make her own way in the world if only she knows how to marshal her feminine powers.’

  ‘Or she could go to school. You might earn some respect, if you earn a degree.’

  # # #

  Borûn was sure that they all spoke for themselves and from her own experience; she had no reason to believe otherwise. She had played the victim to a whole lot of men already.

  When it was her turn to take the chair, her sister picked the leftovers of the chat:

  ‘These men don’t have any pride. Borûn you and I know that. Please don’t ask a cow to give birth to a goat for you….’ Though Borûn would not tell anyone about what she’d heard that night about Black and certainly not her elder sister, it felt as if she knew and was speaking to her of it.

  Borûn had very few girlfriends and she knew they saw her as a piece of rag. When they could, they showed it. To ask their advice would have been to mock herself. No one would love a piece of shit like her, was what they would have told her. And they would not have been wrong.

  Borûn understood her sister for she spoke for herself. She did not judge her pessimism. She was a single mother of three already with a lot of promises behind them. She had reasons to blame her though. She had a bad mouth, she was proud and their mother’s influence was strongest on her. She was more or less, the architect of her woes. But who among us isn’t the architect of his own fate? So did she have any reason to complain? Borûn agreed that she did. None of her flaws would have mattered if there was one who loved enough to save her from herself and if he could not save her, love her and accept her despite all of those. It was out of that anger that flowed her frustrations. It was that hopefulness that justified those frustrations and that alone.

  And as she thought of it all and of her own flaws, her hope of finding redemption from someone else began to fade into despair. If her sister could not find redemption for her little flaws, what hope was there for her?

  She was certain that she couldn’t give it to herself either.

  # # #

  Zach arrived the river, both because he wanted to perform his morning ritual, now he could not do otherwise and because he wanted to meet up with the boy.

  Yes indeed, he wanted to speak with the boy. And was certain that the boy wanted to speak with him as well.

  As to whether Ekeó would be there, some part of him told him that he would, for sure.

  That part of him was right after all for the boy was there when Zach arrived.

  # # #

  ‘Do you see the joy in their faces? That is the height of human experience. It’s divine if not the divine. And this is all that religion is about for only gods can offer such experiences. It’s the feeling of being free from the demons that try to run our liv
es. You believe in demons, don’t you? You have experienced them, haven’t you? We all have. There is no one that does not have to deal with those forces that try to undermine our lives from beyond us. This is why religion will always be a part of our lives. Men will always run towards wherever this offering of joy and freedom is made. Those who make these offerings are going to be the gods and wherever such offerings of freedom from the demons are made, people are going to identify it as Eden.

  ‘I am trying to be that person for my own people. I want to bring them together and show them the very meaning of their lives. I guess that is why I have become a Christ to them…a Messiah and a symbol of hope. You may not understand this if you remain on the outside.

  ‘I want you to come in and be a part of this new experience. Not that there is anything to it but at least, more than anyone else, you know what it feels like. You have administered such freedoms in other ways. It beats my imagination to think that you of all people would not identify with such a good thing that has come down from heaven. But do not see that as an accusation. I mean, it is my vision to unite my own people in this small town. And if I can, the whole world…, that I see is the mission of the one who is the Messiah and it is my destiny to be one. If not for everyone but for my own people and for all those who believe in me.

  ‘You are my father are alike, cautious and sceptical. That is appreciated, for men of experience and intelligence. I mean, what is doubt if not a human passion of knowing? Our embarrassment with that which we cannot understand. Or in this case, that which we do not want to understand.’

  # # #

  Though he had an abundance of objections, Zach had listened without interrupting on a single beat. He didn’t know what it was, but he was searching out something in those words. Whatever it was, he could not tell. It had to be one of those things that one recognised only when one has found it.

  With that being said about the mayor, Zach was determined to see him. But he knew that it would be difficult if not impossible.

  Chapter Eight: Live By the Gun, Die By the Gun

  People were flowing into the small town that by Saturday morning, the mayor’s frontyard was packed. The news of the ‘healings and miracles’ was spreading very fast and people were flowing in to it at a very fast rate.

  The Friday night before, Rev Iňaō had made it clear that all of that was a sign of the end times. ‘Many false prophets would rise and claim to be the messiah. Do not allow yourself to be fooled by those theatrics. It goes only as far to tell us that we need to be on guard against false promises of heaven. Don’t give anyone the chance to fool you with promises of heaven on earth. No man can fulfil such promises. We will keep on looking towards the heaven that is beyond the skies for only there can we find true comfort.’ That night, a chunk were absent. It was obvious to those who were where they had gone. ‘Judgement! God’s judgement is over-hanging this town! You can put your life on that. It’s going to come like Noah’s flood, when it is least expected. Watch and pray. Brethren, watch and pray so that you will not be a victim on the evil day.’

  The same tabloid that featured the story of Silas was preparing to follow up Hééb’s call to come down to town. ‘It’s a beauty and you need to tell the world the story.’

  While Daniel still worked his charms on his mistress’ daughter, the hunter still trying to find a way to ask a favour from the boy, who they now called the One, and Zach still trying to find his way to the mayor, Black was woken by a loud ramping on the door of his shop. He had spent the past few nights there.

  Rush had sought him out in particular as soon as he woke to the news. It felt that the news was meant for Black and none other.

  ‘News about what?’

  ‘Pac was shot this morning in LV. He’s in ICU.’

  Black’s legs could have melted away in that instant, certainly not because of the news but because he was sure, in a dark tone of spirit, that his guardian angel would not make it this time. There was nothing else to it. It was the one thing that he feared greatly. Now, he had to accept it, all too soon. Pac wouldn’t be making records off his shooting this time.

  That morning, the boys gathered at the extension of his shop as usual and the shooting was their topic for the day.

  Someone who did not know would have walked in and had asked why Tupac meant all that for them. He would have gotten a lecture that would contain fragments like:

  ‘Pac is to hip-hop what Socrates was to philosophy. It will be hard to really know what to do with him. He can mean anything that you want him to be for you.’

  ‘We don’t really know why we love Pac. He may not be the greatest dude to ever play this game. But we love him all the same. You can’t even articulate it in definite terms. It’s more or less a feeling that this man’s life in a way was truly yours.

  ‘In concrete ways. It’s more than the music. It’s self-creation.’

  ‘Self-affirmation too. More or less.’

  ‘Suge destroyed Pac. Turned the angry kid in him to something else. He could have been any other thing other than an angry dog.’

  ‘But the Death Row side of Pac showed his loyalty to the man who had saved him when no one else would. He allowed himself to be used. Never played the victim. Went the distance for the man.’

  ‘Pac tried to transcend himself in many ways. He tried to be larger than life.’

  # # #

  None of this meant much to Black. The only thing he knew was that he had a guardian angel in the man Tupac. Nothing else mattered. He affirmed everything the other man affirmed. It was a reality for him to share in and even though he knew in a resonant way that this was the straw that would break the camel’s back, he still hoped. Maybe this would change things for this rapper—if he made it.

  Now he had two bells on his bar….

  # # #

  Zach had spent the past day trying to figure out how he could meet with the mayor. A few days ago, he would have it whenever he wanted. But that privilege had been taken away from him. He hadn’t even seen Kuniā in days. He was even scared she would not recognize him if he showed up. He would have to make his own way to the mayor if he could.

  By Saturday evening, he was overwhelmed with the urgency. The night before was spent again at the Nurse’s place. She shared in his anxiety.

  ‘What is going on? Everything just got turned upside in just a week.’

  Zach had no answer yet. ‘That is what I’m trying to figure out while I can.’

  ‘If I were you, I’d go home to my wife. All this are just an indication that you really have to leave this town for good. That aside, forgive my asking but do you have a problem with being rejected?’

  The reference felt odd. And so Zach tried to hide its oddity behind a smile.

  ‘That’s besides the point. If the mayor knows anything or if he feels that something is wrong…I don’t know. It might be helpful.’

  ‘Why are you not seeing the same thing I am seeing? It won’t change anything. These people are here, not because they want the truth. They are here because they want what he has to offer.’

  ‘What he has to offer? I’ve had discussions with that boy. I can’t quite tell, at least not yet, but it’s all over him.’

  ‘What is?’

  ‘I can’t quite tell. At least, not yet. I might be able to tell if only I can get a bit closer. And what about Hééb? Was it not both of us…?’

  ‘Zachariah, it’s going to mean very little if not nothing, what you, me or anyone finds out about anything. This people won’t be anywhere else. And more are coming.’

  ‘But what does he have to offer?’

  ‘You may think he has nothing to offer. At least not anything real. But he gives these people a sense of possession if not the possession itself. He indeed has something to offer. And people are suffering. More than just comfort, they need their redemption. And if they can’t get the real thing, they’d manage with the feeling. Besides, its gets harder to tell the difference between what is re
al and what is not. These people would rather make do. You can’t deny that.’

  ‘It’s not about them…it’s about the boy. Someone is behind all of this. This is one big call. And whoever that is, he is trying to play every one of us.’

  ‘I wouldn’t be too sure of that not when it’s not on me.’

  When the conversation came to her sister and her legs, she had replied: ‘She is too proud. If she loses her legs, or if she regains them, she loses the thing that feeds her pride. She has something to prove now. Then she wouldn’t. And besides I don’t want her anywhere near that kid.’

  Zach had left with food for the night plus a bad feeling of being misunderstood. It was obvious that the Nurse felt that he was overstepping his boundaries. But was that not what he was made for: to overstep boundaries?

  Hééb had shut the doors to the main house to the crowd that kept growing. They had the yard. Zach had tried to keep his mind off whatever happened there. It was no so much his business.

  He was now without the comfort of the hunter’s presence. He could not deny that it was comforting to have someone to speak with, even about the most insignificant thing. He felt frustrated. Meals were becoming rarer and he still had only the one change of clothes. Thoughts of his wife’s condition still threatened his peace.

  But deep within, Zach knew there was some way to it through the mayor. He had no plans, no ideas, not even one about his whereabouts but he was sure of this one thing. It did seem like the world was going to come to an end after all. So he prayed and prayed and hoped—for that one chance. It could change everything.

  Chapter Nine: To Catch A Bug

  Sunday was uneventful for everybody. Monday was in a haste to come to town with its own troubles. And it did bring an abundance of troubles for everybody. The news van finally arrived and was led by Hééb to the mayor’s place. Since it was transmitting live, in a few minutes, the boy had his face in the world’s eyes.