THE REAL MESSAGE BEHIND 'THE NEVERENDING STORY'

When the above title is mentioned, the first thing most people would probably say is, ‘Oh, gosh... I watched that movie a long time ago!’

Uh-huh... so did I as a child. It was one of the ‘holiday films’ aired on Nigerian television at the time, the sort of film shown only on public holidays and many children were probably as fascinated by it as my siblings and I were.

CARBO FAN FICTION-Déjà Vu CHAPTER 21

Alamain was dragged out of the holding cell and escorted to the interrogation room. After the handcuffs were removed, the uniformed officer left him alone to his thoughts. As he waited, his confusion grew as he thought about Carly.  She had changed her name and discarded her medical career; two main reasons why she had remain hidden for so long. But had he changed that much over the years that she couldn’t even recognise him? What the hell was going on? If he didn’t know any better, he would swear she didn’t know him!

He looked up as Bo entered the room, accompanied by another man he recognised as his brother Roman. He tensed, seeing the nasty scowl on Bo’s face.

‘I knew you no-good Alamains would show up sooner or later. Bo growled, glaring at him.

Alamain reddened with anger, bristling. ‘I will not be spoken to like that...’

‘Save the royal theatrics for somebody who cares, Nicky.’

‘Don’t you presume to address me by that name; I’m not a little boy anymore!’ Carly’s son-now a grown man-shouted at back, outraged. ‘And I demand to speak with my mother... right now!’

‘You don’t have the right to demand anything, Nicky.’ Bo replied coldly, disgusted by his arrogance. Just like Lawrence. Although the young man had Clarice’s eyes, he was the living image of his scumbag father who beat her severely and left her to die...and left her in her present condition. ‘Your mother won’t see you. Even if she wanted to, it’s only going to be when I say so.’

‘And who do you think you are that you can keep my mother away from me, especially when she has a lot to answer for!’ He sneered derisively. ‘But then again, why am I surprised? I should have known when she suddenly decided to abandon her husband and son; she’ll end up back with her peasant lover! Nothing but a shameless slut...’

Bo’s palm viciously struck him across the face, throwing him back on the chair so hard, he fell off. Bo pulled him to his feet by grabbing him by the lapels of his jacket. ‘Don’t you ever talk about your mother like that in front of me again, ever!’

‘Let go of me.’ Nicholas hissed, green eyes flashing defiantly.

‘Bo, let him go,’ came Roman’s calm voice from behind.  

Bo pushed the younger man back onto the chair, wiping his hands on his jeans derisively.

‘We can’t talk over this situation in the middle of both your tempers.’ Roman went on. ‘I managed to stop Carly from coming down here but she’s obviously going to ask questions and we have to decide on what she’ll be told.’

Nicholas’s eyes darted from him and back to Bo. ‘What she’ll be told?  What do you mean by that? What in God’s name is going on here? I demand to speak with her!’

‘It won’t do you any good to talk to her right now, Nicky.’

‘I said...’

‘I don’t give a damn what you prefer right now.’ Roman’s voice was now cold. ‘I don’t give a damn about you, I care a lot about your Mum and so do a lot of people. You need to listen to us and listen to us you will. You don’t exist in Carly’s mind right now. She doesn’t know you.’

Nicholas wondered if this was some elaborate expensive joke. ‘What?’

 ‘She has amnesia, you idiot.’ Bo snapped. ‘She doesn’t remember you, your father or her past. No thanks to your father who almost beat her to death.’

‘Don’t you dare slander my father! They had their problems...all married couples do, but he never laid a hand on her. She’s the one who left him, who abandoned me!’

‘Typical...making it all about you. I figured your father must have fed your enough lies to poison your mind against her.’

‘I know the true facts!’ Nicholas spat. ‘And that story about amnesia is nothing but a fabrication...I don’t believe you.’

‘Yeah well, here’s a refresher course on truth.’ Abe walked in, holding the file on Clarice. Roman looked at Bo who shook his head. ‘You tell him.’ He said, not trusting himself to do so without losing his temper again. He turned away to lean against the wall, arms folded as Roman sat opposite Nicholas Alamain and told him the truth about his mother, Abe filling in some gaps. Nicholas’ expression turned from incredulous to shocked, hands clenched on the table. Given the file, he went through it, his hands shaking as he read through every aspect of Shane’s report.

Finally he sat back, one hand covering his trembling mouth. ‘All this time,’ he whispered. ‘All this time... he told me she was dead.’ He raised his damp eyes to look at the three men. ‘I didn’t know he did this... I swear it. I thought she just left without me...’

Bo watched him carefully. ‘What really happened that night?’

Nicholas closed his eyes. He did it to her because of me. It was my fault.

‘I asked you a question, Nicky. What really happened that night?’

Nicholas managed to pull himself together. ‘Mum seemed out of sorts about two months after we left Salem. She wouldn’t tell me what was wrong and I noticed she and Dad seemed to snip at each other often but I thought they always managed to sort things out. Clearly I was wrong about that, it was all an elaborate front. Sometime later, Dad took us on a holiday in his yacht and one night...Mum came to my room. She said we were going away on a little trip, that she and Dad were unhappy and needed some space.’ Nicholas’ voice shook. ‘I yelled at her. I said I wasn’t going to leave my father and she was probably making him unhappy with her drama. She tried to calm me down but I wouldn’t listen to her. I ran away from her and...’ he couldn’t go on.

‘And what?’ Bo asked, his hands itching to strangle Nicholas as he guessed what was coming.

‘I swear, I never thought he would do such a thing to her, I didn’t!’ Tears slid down Nicholas’ cheeks. ‘I ran into Dad outside and I told him... I repeated what she said to me.’ He bowed his head in shame.

Roman raised his eyes to the ceiling, while Abe shook his head.

‘He said I shouldn’t worry about it, that he would talk to her. I went to bed. The next morning... he told me she’d packed a case and left, telling him to look after me since I wouldn’t go with her. And a week later, he told me he’d heard word that she’d drowned in a boating accident, trying to make it to the mainland. He lied to me!’

‘But you were the one who told him she was leaving him.’ Bo’s voice shook with anger.

‘I was just a boy, an angry, thoughtless little boy!’ Nicholas rose to his feet.

‘You’ve always been blind when your father or Vivian was concerned so don’t expect me to feel any sympathy for you right now. Half the time you gave that woman grief but she loved you far too much to ever see your vicious side. Before you left Salem, I really thought you’d changed. I should’ve expected far less from Larry Alamain’s spawn!’

Swallowing, Nicholas hung his head, wiping his eyes.

‘Well,’ Abe said briskly. ‘What are we going to do now? Clarice is going to demand to  know who he is and why he attacked her at Bo’s place.’

‘We’ll just have to play it well for her benefit. We pretend to interrogate him, he says it’s a case of false identity; he gets a slap on a wrist and he’s out of here.’ Bo said, working it out.

‘Is there no chance at all that she would recognise me? I’m her son.’ Nicholas protested. ‘I want to help her with her memory, make it up to her.’

‘That’s partly the reason why we’re doing this, to see if she does recognise you. There’s a chance that she might, if she does; yeah, you can stay and help her get her memory back. If she doesn’t, you will leave Salem and keep your mouth shut. It’s not in her best interest Larry finds out she’s alive.’ Bo said, his tone broking no argument.

‘I may have been a thoughtless little boy but I’m not evil.’ Nicholas replied, chastened. ‘And I don’t see why I can’t stay around and be near her.’

‘That’s out of the question,’ said Abe firmly. ‘Because then your father will come here to see you and everything will be out. You can’t stay here, it’s too dangerous for her...and a lot of people.

Nicholas turned to looked at Bo. ‘She didn’t remember you on sight yet you two are in a relationship again. Am I missing something here?’

Bo didn’t deign to reply.

‘Let’s now decide what we’re going to let Carly know.’ Roman sat down again.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Rafe  Hernandez was quickly briefed and told to handle the fake interrogation. Clarice arrived at the station the next morning and she and Bo with Roman watched Nicholas and Rafe talk through the one-way mirror. Nicholas stated that he had acted impulsively and it had all been a case of mistaken identity-the woman in Bo’s house had merely reminded him of someone else. Bo kept looking at her frowning face for any sign of recognition.

‘Lord knows who this woman was to set him off like that.’

‘Want to press charges?’ asked Roman.

She shook her head. ‘No. But I want to talk to him.’

‘Why?’

‘I don’t know... I just feel this need to.’

Rafe ended the interview and left the room. Bo stood back, allowing her to enter the room. Nicholas tensed as he stared at his mother.

‘Hi.’ Clarice said.

‘Hello.’ He mumbled, anxiously wondering if she would see anything familiar about him at all, hence he would be allowed to stay and help her.

‘Nicholas, is it?’

‘Yes, but you can call me... umm...Nicky.’ he said, sensing Bo was furiously staring at him through the one-way mirror but was desperate to see if it would trigger off something in her mind. It was all still a nightmare to him, a nightmare that was partly his doing.

‘Nicky.’ Clarice repeated. ‘Doesn’t seem in keeping with you.’

He was silent.

‘Look, I’ve decided not to press charges against you. But I feel there’s more than what you told Detective Hernandez.’

 ‘I don’t know what else  to tell you, Ms Parker. I gave my statement to your colleague and it’s the truth. And I apologise most sincerely for what happened.’

Clarice studied him. He was a handsome young man, from his accent polished and cultured, yet she sensed a troubled little boy inside. For a very strange  reason, she felt like giving him a hug, which shocked her.  ‘I accept your apology. But I sincerely hope you aren’t going to go around attacking other women under the guise of “mistaken identity” after your release. Because for some reason, I don’t believe you.’  She said coldly. ‘I better not see you around here again, you understand?’

 She honestly doesn’t remember me...my own mother, Nicholas thought, feeling heartsick. Maybe she was drawn to Bo Brady despite her condition because her days with him in the past had been all light and sunshine while her days with Lawrence had been all darkness...and he had been a part of it.  She was this way because of him, because of his betrayal.

‘Understood.’ He managed to say.

Turning her heel, she left the room. ‘Cut him loose.’ She told Bo and Roman.

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Later in his hotel room, Nicholas Alamain wept for hours; wracked with guilt and despair and cursing Lawrence over and over. It had been sheer agony standing in the same room with Carly, unable to tell her the truth...seeing how she didn’t even recognise him. How could he have known it would come to this?

Calming down at last, he drifted off to sleep. And in the morning, he made an appointment with Bo, agreeing to meet him at the docks.

Bo found Nicholas staring at the tugboats going along the river, his hands thrust deep in his jacket pockets. He turned as Bo approached him.

‘I owe you yet another apology Bo. It won’t erase what happened but...I just hope you will accept it. I was a spoilt bratty boy who took advantage of my mother’s love for me. I was the master of manipulation, just like him. And I helped destroy her life. It was a miracle she survived that ordeal... a miracle she came back here, back to you. With what she’s going through right now, I’m glad she has you again.’

‘Appreciate that.’

Nicholas shook his head sadly. ‘Is her condition permanent?’

‘We don’t know. But Roman’s ex wife...she’s a trained psychiatrist, she feels it’s best her memory comes back naturally. The doctors who tried treating her in the past only made things worse, which is why in the end her brain had to be planted with false memories. Somehow or other, she’s going to remember. We just don’t know when.’

‘I’m not going to tell my father or Vivian about it, I hope you can trust me on that. I won’t endanger Mum’s life for anything.’ He gave a harsh, mirthless laugh. ‘I had the impudence to say she had a lot to answer for when it was I the whole time!’ He dashed some angry tears away impatiently. ‘I don’t blame you for despising me, I despise me. I just hope when she finally remembers everything, she’ll find it in her heart to forgive me.’ He turned to Bo. ‘And I hope you will be able to as well.’

Bo turned away, unable to look at him.

‘I don’t need to tell you this but please... take care of her for me. When she starts to remember,’ he reached into his pocket and brought out a card from his wallet. ‘Call me by any of these numbers, and I’ll be here. Promise me you will, Bo. I beg you.’

Bo turned back and saw the stark desperation on Nicholas’ face. ‘Sure.’ He said at last, taking the card.

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

That night as they lay entwined in each other’s arms, Clarice jerked awake from another dream. A dream where she was in a candle lit room and she was in a man’s arms. A faceless man with a tattoo, a tattoo she now saw clearly enough to see it was the same as the one on Bo’s back. 

NOSTALGIC 80s: HAMMER HOUSE OF HORROR

For a long time, at least until the late 90s, Nigerian Television was under British invasion (Doctor Who, Mind Your Language, 'Allo 'Allo, Some Mothers Do 'Ave Them, Rent-A-Ghost, Robin Hood of Sherwood, The Invisible Man, Armchair Thriller etc.) and the German invasion (Derrick, The Investigator, Tele Match, Peter's Toy Box etc.), with a sprinkling of American T.V shows and cartoons. But I felt when it came to TV; British Television really ruled and now that we are bombarded with the Mexican and Indian invasion (Telenovelas), I find myself missing a lot of the British stuff we had on our screens a long time ago.
And this is a question mostly for Nigerian viewers... who actually remember the 80's British anthology series...  Hammer House of Horror? 

ON THE MOVIE 'OCTOBER 1'

Cast: Sadiq Daba, Kayode Aderupoko, Kehinde Bankole, Nick Rhys and introducing Demola Adedoyin.

Director: Kunle Afolayan

Synopsis:  A police inspector is sent to Akote town to investigate the rape and murder of some young girls. As the body count escalates, he realises he has a serial killer in his hands and that the murders are linked to a very disturbing secret. 

                       

Veteran actor Sadiq Daba makes a triumphant comeback in this dark thriller penned by Tunde Babalola and directed by Kunle Afolayan, his second thriller following The Figurine. October 1 is a carefully woven murder mystery set in an ethnically diverse community. The costumes and props were carefully selected to depict Nigeria in the 1960s and historical facts were well presented via conversations among the characters and old radio and video footage.

The location was excellent, depicting a picturesque rural setting and the lives of the people of that period.  The plot does not follow the formula of most Nollywood movies- improbable scenarios or predictable twists. At first, there were a few holes in the story but then were skilfully filled, except for one… Danladi’s background.

Daba was well-cast as Inspector Danladi Waziri. As an actor from the old school, the audience would expect a lot from him and get it. However- no offence to the actor- his Hausa accent was a tad exaggerated in the film and his character’s background was rather scanty. He mentioned a son in passing and it was left at that, the audience doesn’t hear more about the son or any member of Danladi’s family.  He’s brilliant and observant but wears a worn-out, almost melancholic look on his face most of the time. The audience can’t help but feel there’s more about Danladi but it was never revealed- except his confessed disillusionment over an execution he drunkenly described as “not my finest hour.”

Danladi’s sidekick, Sergeant Sunday (Kayode Aderupoko) first appeared to be the comic relief, not surprising as the actor is well known for his comic roles in Yoruba films.  His Nigerian Standard English is very awkward- he should have simply been made to speak Pidgin English instead. He serves as Danladi’s interpreter and go-between with the king and the community. But then we see him later as trying to be Danladi’s voice of reason. Far more schooled than his superior in his community’s norms and culture, he clashes with Danladi over an arrest that was in many ways impossible, not caring if he lost his job over it. 

Director Kunle Afolayan’s small but significant role of   Agbekoya proved yet again he’s versatile as an actor as well as a director. His character’s surly demeanour and abrupt answers to Danladi’s questions suggested he knew more than he was letting on and the heartrending epic scene between him and Danladi was enough to make the audience applaud him and weep along with him at the same time. 

Newcomer (Demola Adedoyin) debut was excellent. He played the recently graduated prince with confidence like he was made for the role. Kehinde Bankole was also brilliant as the school teacher, Miss Tawa as well as Fabian Lojede who played the dependable and down-to-earth Corporal Omolodun. 

Scottish actor Nick Rhys’ performance as Waziri’s patronising British superior was also memorable. He represented the British top shots at the time- giving his subordinates instructions and at the same time looking down on them. However, we are glad to see him rather put out by the appearance of Mrs Funmilayo Ransome-Kuti (Deola Sagoe in a brief and very unnecessary cameo). 

The movie’s running time is 145 minutes, an achievement since most Nollywood movies’ stories are usually split into two or more DVDs. Afolayan and Babalola left no stone unturned to give the Nigerian audience a thoroughly excellent movie. New viewers of October 1 would be especially touched by the last scene... Danladi staring at the portrait of Nnamdi Azikiwe placed after Queen Elizabeth II’s was removed; symbolising the hopes and aspirations of Nigerians as they entered the new era of Independence. 

However, the audience would also be left to wonder, like Danladi. By not making the identity of the killer public, who was really being protected here?

This movie is one of the few that proves that we owe Nollywood more than a chance. It is worth a few hours of your time.

                                     

CARBO FAN FICTION-Déjà Vu CHAPTER 20

Chapter 20

Alamain stared out of the window, lost in thought, not seeing the beauty of the blue sky before him.  For a long time after his shattering discovery, he allowed his anger and bitterness consume him, filled with hatred for the woman who he was now on his way to find and confront. A woman he'd loved so much and thought loved him... something she'd often assured him. And he'd believed it... at least until the fateful night she disappeared. He'd nursed so much anger and bitterness, more so after her supposed death; for a long time wondering just why she did what she did in the first place.

Stumbling on her in Russia had given him a terrible shock, followed by anger and the immediate need to have it out with her. But where to start? He had no idea how to find her... or what name she now went by, if she even changed it at all.

An old friend of his from college, who ran a large and  very successful security and private investigating company, was given the task after Alamain confided in him.  But he came up empty... no trace of Carly Manning, Katerina Alamain or even Katerina Von Leuschner. Which means she must have changed her name. 

Then it finally hit him... Salem. And why not? She once went there to hide from her past... why wouldn't she go back there again? It was once in a million chance and he might end up wrong but why shouldn't he see if his hunch was right?

Hence, his trip over the Atlantic towards America.

To Salem.

 To the woman who betrayed him.

And he vowed to make her pay.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Clarice rubbed her aching head. Lately, she’d been having trouble sleeping; general restlessness and the same nightmare of the dark menace hitting her. And for some reason, she had also been experiencing a strange and rather disturbing feeling she was yet to understand... or confide in Bo about. He was even happier these days, ever since she moved in with him, hence her reluctance to burden him about it.

‘Knock, Knock...’ Clarice raised her eyes as Bo entered her office. ‘Ready to go to lunch?’

‘Oh...’ Clarice glanced at her watch, surprised at how fast the hours had passed. ‘Sure.’ Getting up, she reached for her jacket.

Bo took her arm as soon as they were out of the building. At her insistence, they didn’t display any show of affection while at work, Clarice still heedful of Hope’s feelings about their relationship. Hope was polite but cool towards her but at least it was far better than hostility and Clarice didn’t want to do anything to antagonise her.

On his part, while Bo understood and respected his girlfriend’s decision, he still felt Clarice was feeling guilt she had no reason to feel towards Hope. And she worried him. Aside from the nightmare she’s been having more often, her moodiness hadn’t escaped his notice. Whether it was the nightmare she’s been having more often these days, he had no idea but he wished she would talk to him about it instead of keeping it to herself.

‘Princess, what’s going on with you?’ he asked finally, over their lunch at the Brady Pub, after watching her pick at her food.

Clarice looked up, green eyes startled. ‘What do you mean?’

Bo sighed, exasperated. ‘Don’t do that, pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about and then shutting me out. You haven’t been yourself lately and you won’t talk to me about it. What’s the point of us being together if you won’t let me in?’

Clarice winced, ashamed of herself. She reached out across the table for his hand, his fingers immediately enfolding hers. ‘I’m sorry. Believe me; it’s not like that at all.’

 Bo squeezed her hand. ‘I want you to feel you can talk to me about anything. So what’s going on? Is it about the nightmare again?’

She nodded. ‘That... and something else. And the reason why I haven’t talked about it with you is because I’m not sure how to describe it and I didn’t want to burden you with it.’

Bo shook his head, his expression incredulous. ‘Burden me?’

Clarice lowered her eyes, feeling even more ashamed.

‘Now, tell me... what is it?’ His piercing brown eyes probed her face. Before she could speak he added, ‘Is it probably second thoughts about moving in with me?’

‘No... No, of course not.’ Clarice said vehemently. ‘It’s just... lately I’ve been feeling so disconnected.’

‘In what way?’

‘In the all the years I’ve been in law enforcement and then later Intelligence... I’ve always been focused on the job. What I did and who I am; protecting victims and serving my country. Then... all of a sudden...’ she stared down at her hand, ‘I feel...’ her voice trembled, ‘I feel it’s not what I was meant for or do... carrying a gun... killing people. All of a sudden, I feel it’s been another person doing that all this time...’

‘Princess, you’ve never killed anyone who never tried to kill you first. It was either them or you.’ Bo reminded her forcibly. ‘You’re a trained agent and a patriot and you’ve been one far too long to suddenly beat yourself up like this.’

‘Why do I feel like this all of a sudden then?’ Clarice whispered.  ‘This and the nightmares I keep having, it’s almost like I’m living in a stranger’s body, living someone else’s life. Suddenly, I don’t know what’s wrong with me, Bo. I just don’t know...’

‘Hey, Hey...’ Pulling her to her feet, Bo held her tightly in his arms, consoling her.  She clung to him, trembling. Worried, Bo made a mental note to consult Marlena again, wishing for the umpteenth time she was home to really help Clarice. Maybe what she was now experiencing was a sign she will actually start remembering things at last.

‘You know what...’ he pulled back to look down at her, running a finger under her damp eyes. ‘I think all this came about from stress.’

Clarice’s eyebrows rose in askance.

‘Think about it, you’ve been running yourself ragged ever since you’ve been on loan and then there was that mission to Russia. You’re pretty much burned out.’ It was most certainly not the case but it was the only thing he can say to calm her and to his relief, her eyes looked a little less haunted as she pondered on his explanation.

‘You’re probably right...yeah, that’s probably the reason.’ She sat back down and Bo moved his chair closer to hers, watching her anxiously. ‘But that nightmare... I don’t know why I keep having it. And it’s always the same one. I can only hear a voice never the face.’ She shook her head, her expression troubled again. Bo rubbed her arm.

‘I wish I knew how I could help you with that, Princess.’

Clarice smiled faintly, touching his cheek. ‘You are, just by listening. You keep reminding me how lucky I am.’ Leaning over, she kissed him. ‘Thank you.’

Bo smiled back, raising her hand to his lips, holding it between his. ‘Tell you what... why don’t we go away somewhere? You certainly need and deserve some time off anyway. I’m pretty sure you’ll feel much better after spending at least ten days on a beach.’

Clarice smiled again, this time a tad brighter than before. ‘That definitely sounds like a good idea. Will you really be able to come with me though?’

‘Not only do I have some unused vacation time, I wouldn’t dream of letting you go alone.’ Bo smiled back, very pleased to see how much she’d cheered up. But he still needed to talk to Marlena.  

Spurred by Bo’s welcome suggestion, Clarice sat straighter in her chair. ‘So what do you have in mind for us?’

‘I’ll let you know at home tonight.’ As he spoke, Caroline came up to them. ‘Hi Mum.’

Caroline patted her son’s shoulder and kissed Clarice on the cheek. ‘I hardly see you two these days.’

‘Work hazard Mum, sorry about that.’

‘I can easily imagine, seeing how Clarice looks right now. She’s got circles under her eyes... just how many hours do you keep this girl working every day?’

‘Mum...’ Bo protested, while Clarice chuckled quietly.

‘I don’t work harder than anyone else down at the station. And trust me; Bo’s a thoughtful boss, even if he can be a bit of a pain sometimes.’

‘Thanks a lot.’ Bo made a face at her. Caroline still didn’t look amused, her eyes on Clarice.

‘Seriously dear, are you okay? You’ve hardly even touched your plate.’

‘I’m fine. I’ve just been going through some stuff but I’m better now, I promise. Bo and I just talked it out and everything’s okay now.’

‘Well, I’ll be more convinced after you get more colour on those cheeks and do something about those lines under your eyes. Now eat up.’ With a smile, she left them. Clarice was somewhat more cheerful as they enjoyed the rest of their lunch break; on the walk back to the station, she was eager to know where they’ll be going for their vacation. They were halfway back to the station when Alamain’s cab pulled up in front of The Java. Paying the driver, he got out; scanning his surroundings through his sun glasses. The same and yet not the same, he thought with no interest. He had no liking for the town now or several years ago. All he wanted to find that bitch and drag her back with him by the scruff of her neck if he had to. She had a lot to answer for.

Inside he ordered a latte, wondering how to broach the subject without arousing suspicion. Salem was not exactly a small town but he knew from experience word spread fast.

‘You’re not from around here.’ The waitress, who looked to be in her thirties, set his order before him, her face mildly inquisitive.

‘It is that obvious?’ Alamain asked dryly.

‘It’s your accent, European right?’

‘You’re very perceptive. Yes.’ He nodded. ‘I am actually here on business... and to catch up on an old friend.’ He paused, the first name coming to mind, ‘Shawn Douglas Brady.’

‘Oh dear... you won’t find Shawn D here I’m afraid. He moved to Chicago with his family ages ago.’

The Bradys left Salem? Damn it! ‘Oh, that’s a shame; I was really looking forward to surprise him.’

‘You can go over to The Brady Pub and ask his grandmother for his address if you like.’

Rewind. ‘But you said Shawn Douglas moved away with his family...’  

‘No, No... I mean his wife and little girl. The rest of the family still live here. His grandmother, his parents...’

Parents? As in Plural?  Did she actually dare come back to marry him? He sipped his latte, forcing himself to act affable. ‘That’s excellent. I imagine Bo and Carly are still very much in love.’

The waitress frowned. ‘Carly? You mean Hope, right?’

Hope? ‘Uh of course, it’s been a very long time, I got confused. Forgive me.’

The waitress shrugged. ‘No big deal. They got divorced months ago anyway. You would think a couple like those two would stay married forever but it was just one of those things. Bo even has a new girlfriend now. I can’t imagine how Hope’s able to cope working at the same place with her.’

He’d come all the way here for nothing. When he thought of Salem, he’d immediately assumed that Carly had immediately found refuge with the Bradys again, Bo eagerly taking her back into his arms. What a fool he was. Yet he was so sure he would find her here. He sighed angrily as the chatty waitress moved away to attend to another customer.

A wasted journey all together. He might as well just book a suite at the best hotel in this hick town and go home in the morning. He glanced round and then a framed newspaper clip on a wall nearby caught his eye. He put down his cup abruptly and strode over to get a better look.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Before leaving the station for the day, Bo sent an email to Marlena about the latest development in Clarice’s condition, urging her to get back to him immediately. Now that Clarice was living with him, he could no longer communicate via Video Calls, for fear of her walking in on the conversation.

Roman had something he wanted Clarice’s input on, so she told Bo not to wait for her; requesting that he picked up a movie from the video rental store on the way home. Passing The Java, Bo pulled over to pick up some pastries.

‘Did Shawn D’s buddy stop by the station?’ the waitress asked as he pulled out his wallet.

‘Shawn D’s buddy?’

‘Uh huh... he just arrived in town on business and said he wanted to catch up with him. Of course I told him Shawn D’s in Chicago. But he said a weird thing though... he thought you were married to some woman called Carly.’

Bo’s eyes narrowed. ‘What did this guy look like?’

The woman smiled, the image of the handsome stranger vividly coming to mind. ‘Absolutely gorgeous and the with the most fantastic European accent. Before he left, he kept staring at the clipping we put up there.’ She pointed to it and Bo’s blood ran cold.

As soon as he got outside, he pulled out his cell. ‘Ro, where’s Clarice?’

‘She just went home, why?’

‘Damn it!’

‘Bo... what’s wrong?’

‘Larry’s in town, why else would he be here unless he somehow tracked her down! I have to get to her!’

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Clarice opened the door at the sound of the bell. ‘Hello, can I help you?’  She asked.

Alamain stared at her incredulously, unable to believe her audacity. If it hadn’t been for the newspaper clipping, showing a photograph of her standing between Bo Brady and the town’s Mayor, he would have been none the wiser. And here she was, putting up an elaborate charade. ‘How dare you?’ he hissed, shoving her hard, forcing her backwards.

‘Who the hell are you?’ Clarice snapped, shocked. ‘And what do you want?’

Alamain fought to control his temper, a very difficult task because he was seriously angry. ‘After all these years, years of lies... that’s all you can come up with, you heartless bitch!’ Unable to control himself, he slapped her across the face, causing her to stumble. But he then found himself raising his hands after she pulled out an automatic from under a jacket lying on the couch.

‘Oh no wait...wait... let’s not be hasty.’ He said, anger abating. ‘I’m... I’m sorry I hit you, I didn’t mean to.’

‘Who are you?’ Clarice asked harshly, her gun still aimed at him. ‘Who are you working for... talk!’

He stared at her, now suddenly feeling like he was the crazy one. ‘You know exactly who I am...’

‘Get down on your knees right now!’ a familiar voice snarled from behind. Alamain turned and Bo managed to recover enough to hit him across the face, causing him to fall down hard.  

‘Hold on...’ he said weakly. 

Bo’s fist knocked him out. 

#SaveMayowa TO #RIPMayowa: THE BATTLE IS OVER

For a long time, the #SaveMayowa campaign to raise money for Mayowa Ahmed, who was stricken with Stage IV ovarian cancer, was one of the most talked about and trending topics on social media. It became a volatile saga after  Mayowa's family was accused of scamming Nigerians of their hard-earned money; in a controversial post by celeb Linda Ikeji. This caused a chain of scepticism, with people taking different sides and views of the matter; the police got involved to the extent the campaign account was even frozen until it was proven the family was innocent and allowed them to take Mayowa to South Africa.

What’s Been Happening With Me… And Then Some

Happy New Month! We are slowly creeping towards the end of 2016 and before we know it, there will be Christmas trees and lights all over the place again.

I know my posts have been rather irregular lately and I apologise. Believe me, it wasn’t out of laziness or nonchalance; I love my blog and  nothing gives me so much pleasure than to write and share posts I find interesting to my readers.

The main reason was, I was going through a rather difficult time. My freelance writing gig turned out to be a disappointment, I was rounding off my final college project so I could finally get my B.Ed. degree next year (God willing) and then I got plagued with terrible migraines. There’s been the occasional one whenever I got stressed but this time it was really bad. For days, I could barely hold up my head and I was unable to think straight at all. I lay in bed, staring at my old laptop, wanting to write, yet not able to think of one good sentence. And then I found myself sobbing for no reason, making the migraines worse. I took painkillers, I stopped drinking tea, Coca Cola and Pepsi to lessen my caffeine intake but it barely made a dent. Out of desperation, I finally I goggled my symptoms and saw that I was suffering from stress and mild depression. The stress could have been worry over my project and a few other stuff, but the depression… that was another kettle of fish and I did what I could to relieve myself of it. The self help site I found to help me with my problem proved really insightful and after taking some of the suggestions to heart, the migraines slowly stopped.

Ramadan came; I fasted and prayed hard and began preparing new posts, but a few weeks later, Malaria struck so there was no way I could do anything until I got better. And I am fully recovered now and more than anxious to get back to blogging.

All through June, I vowed to make some changes in my life and I’ve found myself being all the more better for it. One of them is doing away with fear and negativity and achieving goals instead of procrastinating most of the time. Nothing can bring you peace but yourself, with God’s guidance of course. And the more confidence you have of yourself; you can achieve so many things. And that’s what I intend to focus on.

Yours in “blogship”,
                                                                        A.