by Bill O. A
The surgeon from John Hopkins walked over to the monitors connected to Taiye. Once the one with vital signs indicators reached 70%, he instructed the Nigerian doctors to remove the bullet and end the surgery.
“I am sorry sir but the boy’s brain activity has increased rather slowly,” said Nonsu. “This gives a cumulative percentage of fifty-five. Don’t you think we should wait some more?”
“I don’t want us to inject any more anaesthetics into the boy,” said the foreign surgeon. “He has been unconscious for too long. Let us remove the bullet before the anaesthesia wears off and he wakes up. Please proceed and complete this.”
“I understand you sir,” replied Nonsu. “We will begin the extraction now.”
The presumed lead surgeon made sure everyone washed up again and that the sterility and hygiene condition was perfect. He began to observe the procedure.
A tank farm, as oil terminals are often called in this part of the country, was under immediate threat of being destroyed as irate youths gathered in front of the gate to the facility with pure dastardly intention. This was in retaliation to Alhaji’s involvement that had culminated in the lost and found boy being shot. They felt the man’s assets should be burnt to the ground, but a fast-thinking commissioner of police had sent men to all locations where the condemned man had business assets known to the public and increased the security presence there. The situation was turning bad and measures had to be taken to calm nerves.
The F-15E carrying its sole passenger knew it would meet disapproval to enter the airspace of some African countries, but he would just ignore their radio calls and go through. There was no time for that kind of talk; they should send their complaints and breach of international law to the American embassy in their country, moreover he couldn’t be shot down as ground-to-air missiles would only be used if he actually fired at the country’s structures.
Rules of engagement, thought the pilot to himself.
He left the ocean and entered Guinea’s airspace. There was no communication on the radio. He just hoped he was too fast for their radar, although that was wishful thinking.
“Amy, we will soon be in Lagos,” said the fighter jet pilot. “The next forty minutes should have you on the ground. Please be confident. Go and touch this boy and return home liberated.”
“Thank you,” replied the young Jones.
“Ah. Chuka, you came,” said Bode.
“You bet I did. But first things first, how’s Taiye?”
“He is still in surgery,” replied the businessman. “A top Nigerian-American surgeon is in there with them, and my wife says the hospital surgeon on duty comes highly recommended.”
“This is good news,” said Chuka.
He saw George was trying not to engage in conversation which would seem insensitive to the Williams family plight, so the lieutenant colonel helped him out.
“My boys tell me your girl will be here anytime now. You don’t need to worry. Nigeria and the USA are allies and we have set everything in place to make sure she gets here in good time once the fighter jet lands.”
“‘Thank you’ should be in order,” replied the historian, “but the boy under the knife is my main concern now. I need to hear good news from the surgeons urgently.”
“It will come. We are a praying people and the miracles we see every day count towards the positive response to our prayers. The way the boy was found is enough testimony that he is loved by his God.”
“I share your optimism, once the body contact has been established and the following nights reveal success, then we can truly celebrate.”
“I really don’t want to engage in your area of expertise but you set this thing up, so the ‘handshake’ should work.”
“It will work,” replied George. “I just need it to happen while the boy is still with us.”
Chuka nodded his head in understanding.
“I have always wanted to ask you this,” inferred the ex-Marine as he took Chuka to a corner in the room then spoke softly. “Why abandon your country for an ordinary life here in Nigeria?”
“That I will answer when we are celebrating. For the moment let us just keep our fingers crossed.”
Chapter 48
All Areas, Nigeria
17th July 2015, 7:52 p.m.
The waiting room where Bode, Toun, George and Chuka sat had been silent for close to twenty minutes, only the historian was standing. Suddenly a text message came into the lieutenant colonel’s phone. ‘She is here’ it read. Chuka immediately went into military mode and spoke with authority.
“George, Mr and Mrs Williams, an American fighter jet just landed on our soil in peacetime. Its cargo is the young girl from San Francisco. George here has been able to bring her to this country under fantastic circumstances. As we speak my men are assisting her out of the jet and will bring her here immediately. I want to beseech you all to remain here while the military handle this sensitive matter. It will be quick contact with Taiye and she will be out.”
Toun and Bode nodded in agreement, George just smiled.
Eleven minutes later, a Toyota Hiace bus covered with military camouflage drove into the car park of the General Hospital at Ikeja. Twelve soldiers and a young Caucasian girl alighted; reporters were interested in this new twist as they couldn’t connect it to what was going on. The soldiers wasted no time whatsoever; two men led the team with fully armed AK-47 rifles. They cleared the way into the hospital and Amy followed them in while three other soldiers shielded her from behind; no one could get to her.
The other seven soldiers stayed downstairs and monitored things from there. Once Amy and her escorts got to the fourth floor, she saw a man in military uniform who introduced himself.
“I am Lieutenant Colonel Chuka. George is waiting for you but first you need to touch Taiye.”
She nodded. There was not a word from her since she arrived at the hospital; she just couldn’t believe everything was happening so fast.
Chuka commanded two of his men to follow him while he took Amy by her hand and led her to the operating theatre where Taiye was.
In the surgical theatre, Doctor Nonsu and his team, supervised by the specialist surgeon from John Hopkins, had removed the bullet and were about to start stitching up the boy to bring the entire procedure to an end. The Nigerian-American surgeon was satisfied and expected a quick recovery.
While the younger supporting doctors were setting down their surgical paraphernalia such as needles and surgical thread, they heard some noise outside. Everyone stopped and wanted to know what the noise was about. A nurse went to peep at the door, then suddenly the door was pushed open by force and two military officers came into the surgery room with rifles.
There was surprise and confusion. Nonsu wanted to speak in rebellion, but Chuka came in apologising and dragging Amy along.
“This won’t take up to a minute,” said the lieutenant colonel. “Just ignore us please.”
Nonsu moved to block the lieutenant colonel. That same instant the two soldiers reacted by aiming their rifles in the doctor’s direction.
“Stand down boys,” said Chuka. “You don’t seem to understand, she is just here to touch the boy and then she is gone.”
“I don’t know what is happening,” replied Nonsu, “but social visits will be after surgery and when he is stable and much stronger, then he can accommodate visitors. The patient’s immunity it at its lowest in times like this, it can’t just happen on my watch.”
Chuka was about to signal to his men to move Nonsu out of the way when the John Hopkins surgeon chipped in.
“Let her wash her hands and use some hand sanitizers. She will have just one minute and leave.”
“But Doctor,” said Nonsu, “the boy hasn’t been stitched up yet. It is unethical for families or friends to see him like this.”
“Cover him up,” replied the Nigerian-American surgeon. “She will just be here for a minute.”
Nonsu kept quiet and pointed to a free surgica
l wrapping, a junior doctor picked it up and covered the opening on the boy.
Chuka took Amy’s hand and encouraged her to go forward after the doctors confirmed she could now approach the patient.
“I am scared,” said the fifteen-year-old.
“You know what you need to do, just make body contact and that is it,” said the lieutenant colonel.
Amy went ahead and looked at Taiye’s face. It was him all right, just like his twin brother when they danced at her ‘party’. She brought her hands up and touched his face. She kept both hands on him for a few minutes; the surgery team was watching and didn’t understand what was going on. Three minutes passed but no one broke the moment. Finally, she placed a kiss on his forehead and discontinued body contact. She stepped back and went to meet the lieutenant colonel.
George and Amy were on a video call to the girl’s parents. Amy was talking excitedly; her conversation was more about the four-hour flight in the fighter jet than her body contact with the ghost man. Her father wanted to hear more of the ‘handshake’ but she had other ideas.
“It can wait my dear. Just tell me where did you touch him?”
Meanwhile, Chuka and Mr and Mrs Williams where looking through the glass window as the floor matron had informed them that Taiye would soon be taken to his recovery room in intensive care. Chuka answered a call coming in on his cell phone.
“Hello soldier, what is the issue?”
“Sorry to disturb you sir, but the pilot of the F-15 wants to know if he should leave. He says there has been no information as to whether he should return with Amy.”
“Hold on soldier, let me ask the professor.”
“She will stay for a few days as we would need to confirm that her experiences have stopped. Please tell the pilot to return to base,” said George.
“Understood,” replied Chuka.
Bode and his wife were not allowed to see their son as he needed uninterrupted rest for the next twenty-four hours. Nonsu and the Nigerian-American surgeon began to brief the parents of boy on the medical procedure.
“So you see Mr Williams, our only concern at this moment is his rather slow increase in brain activity. It seems the lack of oxygenated blood has caused some problems, but we can’t say for certain if this is serious or just a one-off, as activity in his brain is increasing but rather slowly. The best we can do is to wait and watch things,” said Doctor Nonsu.
“You don’t need to be worried,” interjected the Nigerian-American surgeon. “From the chart I have here, brain activity improved significantly once the artery was stitched, and there has been a gradual increase. His brain will pick up, you can be rest assured he will be fine.”
“Thank you so much,” replied the Williams. “We are immensely grateful.”
The two doctors nodded in gratitude and took some steps away before they engaged in a private dialogue. Nonsu was getting final instructions from the more experienced man; he brought out his notes and jotted what he needed.
Final Chapter
Three Cities, Worldwide
25th July 2015, 10:05 a.m.
The trio of Bode, Chuka and George stood in the Murtala Mohammed International Airport while Amy said her goodbyes to Kenny and his mother outside the entrance. She quickly went to the trio inside and they began their walk to their airline stand.
“I have to admit Professor, your ‘handshake’ thesis has worked. Amy has gone over a week without any experiences or having to sleep in a room full of Taiye’s picture. The matter has been brought to a close,” said Chuka.
“Yes, I have always been confident that it would work, especially now that the real ghost man has been found. Talking about Taiye, I understand his family are moving him to a UK hospital where he will be monitored,” said George.
“Quite sadly he went into a coma after the operation. The doctors were hopeful he would recover with ease.”
“Yeah, that is the hard part of the whole drama,” replied Chuka. “The boy did lose a lot of blood. The bright side is his potential recovery, although at a very slow pace, but at least there is increase in brain activity daily. I am sure with sophisticated medical care over there in the UK, he will soon wake up.”
“That will bring joy to my heart,” replied the ex-Marine. “I brought my personal problem to this matter, and that bullet was meant for me.”
“You shouldn’t worry about that,” replied the lieutenant colonel. “When Nathan is caught, he will pay for all his crimes.”
Bode was a few steps behind and walked up quickly to joined them. Amy was full of life and walking in gallant strides. Her first night in Nigeria was the most anxious moment for all the players; she wasn’t able to sleep till about one a.m. and when she finally did, her watchers went into a vigil. Everyone watched her live feed even in California. The rejoicing started at six a.m.
George on the other hand wanted to observe more nights just to make sure this wasn’t a one-off and, by the fifth night, he was satisfied that all was now well. Other nights prior to this day were only watched by non-party players. The historian cum archaeologist had made history; his success and involvement in solving the haptomai curse would be known among fellow professionals as an historic event.
Frank Fields had been in Dubai for two days. He was able to find a hospital that would perform facial surgery for him. He needed to change his appearance; the overwhelming search for him through the media had him worried.
He looked at his watch, in the next fifty minutes he would be going under the knife. An electronic picture of what he would look like had been shared with him. Removing five years from his age with this procedure would be highly welcome, not only would he be a different person but he would also look younger. If he was successful with this, he might return early to the USA and restart his killing vendetta. He would just plan each step more carefully.
“Good morning Frank, you will need to follow me,” said a nurse. “We will just run some quick tests before we get you ready.”
“Certainly,” replied Nathan. “After you please.”
Donald was excited his daughter was finally coming home after her rather exquisite trip to Africa and events leading to her body contact with the ghost man. He knew they were on their way, and George would take care of her. He went up the stairs to his daughter’s room and found Jessica removing sketches of Taiye; he smiled at her and joined the activity.
Six minutes later and there was just one more frame with a copy of the sketch. Both parents walked up to it and had one more look before they both raised a hand and began to remove it from the wall.
EPILOGUE
Phone Call between Friends
27th October 2015, 4:13 p.m.
“Hello Mark, good to speak to you.”
“Hi George, I tried to reach you earlier but your cell phone was off.”
“Yeah, I just switched it back on and decided to call when I saw your text message. What’s going on?”
“Well, since you were in Nigeria for a while, I just felt you would like to have this update.”
“And what could that be?” asked the professor.
“Alhaji has escaped from prison in a most commando-like manner.”
“How could that happen?” inquired the ex-Marine
“Well, on the news it says he was being moved to a specialist hospital for a chest scan when armed men stopped his van and overpowered the prison escort. About three minutes after they got him out of his chains, a chopper landed right there on the highway and Alhaji and his gang of daredevils got in and they just disappeared.”
“I don’t believe it!” exclaimed George.
“And there’s more,” said Mark.
“Please fill me in,” replied the professor.
“The co-pilot was Azeem. He has finally surfaced. It seems his absence was logistical as it has become obvious, he set up the escape from whatever hideout he has been in.”
“This is interesting stuff. I will call Chuka to get more details,” replied George.
“My good friend, it seems there might be a situation.”
“And what could that be?” inquired Mark.
“I was closing my files on the haptomai matter as Amy is back in the States and there have been no more experiences. I decided to document all that transpired and prepare enough material for the ‘soothsayer’ in the next one thousand years as I felt this would be the appropriate thing to do.”
“Okay I understand you,” replied Mark, “but I still don’t know where you are going with this.”
“All right here it is,” replied George. “While collating my books I found one on Greek mythology. I opened it and found certain pages I had highlighted, and when I read them, it just clicked.”
“What clicked?” asked Mark. His tone was filled with anxiety as he was eager to know what was going on.
“You see, Taiye’s physical condition has improved greatly, his vital signs are at 98%, while his brain activity is close to 90%, a perfect condition for him to have woken up from his coma, but the boy remains unconscious.”
“So where is all this leading? George, can you just hit the nail on the head?”
“Okay, here is a quick 101 on Greek mythology. Once the human body becomes unconscious but not asleep, it is deemed that the journey to the underworld has begun, thus the soul — a replica of the human form of the individual — is on a journey away from our world. When the soul gets to the bank of the river, it gets into a boat sailed by Charon after a coin has been paid. It goes to the other side where the soul meets the gates of the underworld and also Cerberus. But all these details aren’t important now, what is key is that according to the mythology, Taiye’s soul is in some sort of limbo because his body hasn’t been buried.”
“But he is still alive,” said Mark. “How can you bury someone who is still alive?”