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by Josef Manz
copyright, 1999
The plane landed at Nairobi's
Kenyatta International Airport at noon.
The sun was overhead, the
heat intense. Paula Connors adjusted the
weight of the bag on her
shoulder, put on shades and headed for
customs. She was a
tall woman, beautiful with short-cropped blond hair.
"Hi, Paula," Geoffrey Preston
called as soon as Paula had gotten her
bags from customs. "You
look great." He reached for the bags.
"Thanks. So do you,
Jeff," she said eyeing him. He was dressed in a
sports shirt, shorts and
sneakers. All light khaki. He was in much
better shape than the last
time she had seen him, and he had been much
younger then. The
tan was incredible. "Look at that tan."
"A day in this bloody sunshine
with the right apparel and it's all
yours." He gave her
a hug and a peck on the lips.
"Lukewarm," she commented on the kiss. He kissed her long and hard.
"Hot, Jeff," she said feeling a bit weak. "That's hot."
"I believe I still got the touch," he bragged.
"Wow!" she exclaimed looking
him over. "A tan in January?
Unbelievable." Of
course she was from Massachusetts. "I, on
the other hand look like
a fish's belly."
"You look grand, Paula," he lied. "Well, shall we go?"
"Of course." They walked
out to his car. "So this is Kenya." She
spoke softly as he drove
away.
"How do you like Kenya?" he asked, swerving around a bend.
"So far so good. I
mean, it's wonderful. The city is so clean it's
amazing. I never knew
there was anything like this out here."
"Why do you think I love
it here? Anyway, it has been a while since we
were last together, Paula,"
Geoffrey said.
"Two and a half years."
The air conditioner hummed soothingly; a
pleasant relief from the
heat. In less than twenty hours,
she had moved from winter
to summer. She was
taking it well, jet lag
and all.
"You refused to answer my letters," he complained.
"You could've called, Jeff."
"I did. Got the bloody
answering machine. You know I like reading
letters better. They
are physical objects that I can keep and read over
and over again."
"Come on, Jeff. I'm
here, right?" she said glancing at him. "That's
what matters." She
stared at the other cars and suddenly realized that
everybody was driving on
the wrong side of the street.
"Who are you fooling, Paula?"
He spoke with a thick English accent.
"I'm no bloody stupid bloke.
You did not come to see me. You are here
on business. I reckon
you got something bloody big that you can't
handle on your own.
You need my bloody help."
"Okay, okay, so I came for
both. Bloody, bloody, bloody. Do you have
to be such an asshole?"
she asked. There was a pause then he turned
around, smiled and they
both burst out laughing.
"Same old Paula Connors, always a step ahead." He said.
He lived in an exquisite
split-level bungalow, reminiscent of those in
California, in Westlands,
a suburb of Nairobi exclusively for the upper
class. She loved
it right away. It had a huge garden with a myriad of
shrubs and flowers of every
imaginable color. If paradise had a
picture, it would look like
this. The house had large, spacious rooms
with plenty of glass to
experience the view outside.
After taking a refreshing bath and nap, they had dinner.
"So, are you going to tell
me what brought you here or are you going to let
me slowly die of curiosity?"
Geoffrey asked as they ate.
"I'm gonna let you die slowly
and painfully," she said, giggling. "No.
Seriously, I have an assignment.
Top secret. I have to get rid of
somebody in a very high
place." She mechanically chewed on her steak.
"That is it?" He asked, astonished.
"Why don't you shoot the bloody guy
or make him sick?"
"You know I don't do that
shit. We want to make it totally
unbelievable. Like
I said, it's somebody in a high place. We want
something that will leave
no tracks. Think you can get somebody to
operate from here?"
Preston placed his knife and fork down and smiled.
"Africa is the birthplace
of witchcraft. Salem, Massachusetts, Haiti;
those are just the tip of
the iceberg. Here is where the bloody body
lies. Here is where
anything can happen. Of course I can get
somebody. I know this
man, Ssebastian who resides in western Kenya. He can
do almost anything."
"Can we go see him tomorrow?" Paula asked, anxious.
"Why not?" He was still smiling.
"We leave first thing in the
morning."
Later that evening, they
went to Bomas Of Kenya, an African theater
where they watched natives
dressed in traditional attire sing and dance
to the intricate drum rhythms.
Quite exotic and entertaining.
"You need rest," he told
her after they came back. "Tomorrow will be a
tough day. It is a
long drive. The guest room is all set for you."
"I don't want a guest room,
you fool. I want your room -- with you in
it." She stared into
his eyes. He stared into hers; big, blue and
always dreamy. She
was as gorgeous as ever.
"Whatever you wish,"
he said, kissing her and suddenly feeling a rush
of passion run through his
body. He half-dragged her into the bedroom
where they made violent
love as only witches and sorcerers can.
*****************
Paula Connors was born in
Salem, Massachusetts, the presumed home of
witches. It was believed
that some of her ancestors were witches. At
the tender age of five,
Paula discovered she could hypnotize people and
suggest things to them without
their knowledge. This proved to be a
good asset for getting out
of fixes such as trouble with tough
schoolmates or not eating
her vegetables. Of course, as she grew up,
Paula became more inventive.
As a teenager, she went out with the best
boys in school.
She began exploring witchcraft
in college after she met Geoffrey
Preston at Boston College.
Her family had moved to Lynn when she was
ten so she had to go back
to Salem to learn more about her birthplace's
history of witches.
Witchcraft fascinated her as it did Geoffrey, an
English fellow who was born
and resided in Kenya, East Africa. They
were young people in love
with a lust for adventure. They were amateur
cons out to exploit that
vast wasteland known as the naive public.
America was full of rich,
gullible people who would believe in
anything. Witchcraft
was now acceptable as the norm. It was not a tool
for evil but rather a craft
for bettering mankind. But one had to be
careful. A woman was
burned at the stake in the small town of Gaffa,
Massachusetts, not far from
Salem, in the fifties.
So they studied astrology;
the stars, charts, tarot cards and
pentagrams. What really
worked for them, of course, was that Paula had
this gift. They did
not use the term, witchcraft; instead they opted
for, psychic advisor.
They began in school by helping communication
students gain confidence
in themselves. It worked marvelously,
prompting other students
to seek help. Geoffrey was in charge of
advertising, acquiring clients
and managing the funds. Paula took care
of the hypnosis and suggestions.
Geoffrey had only come to
attend school so after three years at BC, he
graduated and returned to
Kenya where his family had lived since
colonial days. Paula
opened up an office and went nationwide. She
advertised in tabloids and
other publications, made television
appearances and used direct
mail advertising to gather clients.
She made it big. So
big that the vice president of the United States
of America called onto her
for help in acquiring charisma and a winner's
attitude. She was
quite flattered. He paid her well and got what he
wanted. After that,
he would call on her whenever he was home in
Massachusetts. There
was nothing strange about a vice president
consulting a psychic.
Why, one former president was believed not to
have made any major decisions
without first reading his stars.
It was no secret that they
had their meetings - and the vice president
probably wanted it that
way. When he called her from a phone booth in
Boston demanding to see
her as soon as possible, Paula knew there was
trouble abound.
Well disguised, he met her
at Gina's, a small Italian restaurant that
Paula and Geoffrey had frequented
during their college days.
"What brings you out here?" She asked as they ate.
"I have to eradicate somebody,"
he whispered, leaning across the
table. She stared
at him unbelievably for a moment.
"Why are you telling me this?
Can't you get a hit man or something?"
She asked.
"This is not just anybody,"
he glanced around nervously. "I'm talking
about the president."
Paula laughed lightly for
two reasons; one, she was scared, and two, she
did not want anybody finding
out what they were discussing.
"He's your best friend,"
she finally spoke after recovering her
composure. "Besides, it
would be too risky. You're talking major
assassination here."
She lost her appetite.
"He's not my best friend.
He's my rival. I put him where he is and
can't replace him because
we work together so well the way we are. I
worked hard for many years
to get him to the top and now he enjoys the fruits of my labor. I'll
always be his junior. The fact is, he's much younger
than I and in great physical
shape while I have an ailing heart. I hate
the man, I really do.
Somehow I gotta get rid of him. We're gonna win
the next election, you know.
I'd have to wait six years before I can
get a crack at that post,"
he said as he gulped down a beer. "Do you
realize that right now I'm
the strongest candidate for the presidency?
Anything can happen in six
years to weaken my candidacy. Not to mention
a heart attack. The
time is now."
"What do you want me to do?"
Paula asked sipping her drink. "I'm a
psychic advisor not an assassin."
"I know that but I'm sure
you have some connections somewhere. Someone who
can do something totally unbelievable, like abracadabra and he
vanishes." He was nervously
rubbing his hands together as he spoke.
"Come on, don't be silly,"
she laughed again as though they were
discussing a love affair.
"There's nothing like that and you know it."
"Please, find somebody.
Do anything. There's a ten million tag on
this."
"T... T... Ten million dollars?"
Don't drool, Paula, she thought, her
hands trembling. Don't
drool.
"You heard me right," he said and winked at her.
"Well," Paula's mind was
in overdrive. Geoffrey had told her about
Africans and how they could
perform amazing feats of witchcraft. Surely
he could do something. "I
don't know if it's possible. I've just heard
rumors. I'll need
help. I probably have to leave the country. If it's
possible, there will be
others involved," she said.
"Do whatever you need to
do as long as it's all done in absolute
secrecy. You know
how it is," he spoke in an anxious tone.
"I understand perfectly,
sir. When I'm ready, I'll contact you. Can
you make it here in two
weeks?" Paula asked.
"I think that can be arranged."
"Umm, I do have some knowledge
of these things and since we want to
minimize further contact,
I can tell you now what will probably be
needed so you can try to
get it before we meet next," Paula explained.
She was excited. She
could not believe she was discussing such
matters. And ten million
dollars.
The vice president took out a pen and small notepad.
"Fire away," he said.
"Okay. The main thing
is blood. You gotta get at least a drop of it.
You do not need to isolate
it. It could be on a blotter or piece of
cloth. Get some hair
or nail clippings and some clothing he's recently
worn. Any problem
getting all that?"
"In two weeks? No problem. Remember, not a word of this to anyone."
"Nobody has to know who it
is they are working on. I'm not gonna tell
them." A sly smile washed
across her face. At times like these she
turned him on, made him
want to be twenty years younger and care-free.
Paula Connors was some sexy
lady.
"Here’s something small for
your travel expenses," he said as he took
out his billfold and handed
her ten one-thousand dollar bills. "Is that
enough?"
"It sure is." Paula beamed.
The vacation I always needed, she
thought. And a chance
to visit old Jeff.
"Anything else?" He asked.
"I think we've just about
covered all we can at this moment." She
gulped down the rest of
her drink because she needed it.
"Remember you're sworn to secrecy." He sounded nervous.
"You're insulting my intelligence
by repeating that, sir." She cupped
his chin in her palms.
"Everything will be fine. Cheer up, will you."
She gave him a quick kiss
on the lips as she got up to leave.
He sat there frozen for an
instant feeling warmth generate in his
groin. Then he left
the tab and walked out.
******************
Breakfast was served at eight the next morning.
"This is some huge breakfast,
Jeff," Paula complained as the cook
returned to the kitchen.
"What do you want to do, make me fat?"
"You could never be fat,
Paula." He grinned at her. "Not with bloody
workouts like the one you
gave last night."
"How could you ever abandon
a hot bitch such as I? British broads are
just too uptight to have
fun," she said munching on a slice of fresh
mango.
"That may be true, but don't tell them."
"Accept the facts, babes.
I'm the best fucking thing that ever
happened to ya." She kissed
him full on the lips with food in her mouth.
"Gosh, you're so bloody modest,
Paula," Geoffrey said wiping his mouth
with the back of his hand
then wiping the hand with a napkin.
"Hey, I tell it like it is,
Jeff." She laughed out loud. "I mean,
there's no reason to hide
my feelings from you. I feel like I've known
you all my life even though
we only spent three years together. And your
sporadic visits."
They left for Ssebastian's immediately after breakfast.
"This is the best vehicle
for these roads," Geoffrey told her as they
pulled out of Nairobi in
his Range Rover. "In place of snow, we get mud
over here. I can't
tell which is worse."
"Exactly where does this Sebastian li..."
"Ssebastian with two S's."
"Who gives a shit about how many S's, Jeff. Just where does he live?"
"He lives about four hundred
miles northwest of here near a town
called, Kitale."
"Four hundred miles? Couldn't we have flown?"
"Yes we could but then we'd
miss all this pretty view. Who wants to
fly in a country like this?
Furthermore I can make it in six hours
flat." He announced proudly.
"I'm sure you can.
You drive like a maniac." She nudged him in the
ribs making him sway the
vehicle.
"Look at that," he pointed
at an escarpment. "They call it the Rift
Valley. Miles upon
miles of flatland pushed beneath the surface."
"Beautiful." Paula marveled.
"And all the time I thought it was a
jungle out here."
"Lots of people do.
On the contrary, it's such a wonderful country. I
love it here."
"Tell me, Jeff." Paula changed
the subject. "Just what can uh,
Ssebastian do?"
"He's extraordinary," Geoffrey stated then stared ahead in silence.
"Well?" Paula inquired after
a pause. "I figured that much, Jeff. I'm
not a dummy, you know.
What can he do?"
"Practically anything." He made himself comfortable in the seat.
"Africans believe in witchcraft
as though it were a religion. To some,
it is a religion.
Something greatly revered and feared. To others, it
is simply the most horrifying
function. Those who know Ssebastian fear
him intensely - me included."
"You're kidding me," Paula
remarked reaching in the cooler behind her.
She took out two bottles
of spring water, opened them and handed him
one. "Are you telling me
that you are afraid of this man?"
"Absolutely." He was
serious. "And you bloody well will also when you
meet him."
"Yeah, sure. You still haven't told me what he can do."
"There are two instances
both involving lightening that I personally
witnessed. Well, I
witnessed the aftermath. Absolutely spectacular
feats of supernatural phenomena."
He fell silent again. Apparently he
wanted to annoy Ms. Connors.
"What! What! What! What?!"
Paula was dying of curiosity. She almost
spilt her water.
Geoffrey gulped down half his water and burped softly.
"Pardon me." He excused himself.
"The first one was a house that was
hit by lightening.
Normally when lightening hits a house, a few tiles
fly off or the corrugated
iron roofing gets singed. In extreme cases,
part of the house may rip
apart and a fire is started. This was a
bloody brick house and brick
particles were found as far as half a mile
away. Also bone particles
and teeth. It was like an atomic bomb had
gone off and the house was
ground zero."
"You mean to tell me that
Ssebastian harnessed lightning and turned it
into some super thermal
explosive?" Paula asked.
"There is a crater where
that house once stood. People would like to
believe it was the wrath
of God but they know better. They bloody well
know better." He placed
the water bottle down as he turned a sharp curve
on the escarpment.
The view, an endless run of green flat plains dotted
with shrubs lightly covered
in quickly disappearing morning mist was
breathtaking.
"What about the other incident?" Paula was totally hooked.
"This also could not have
been a natural phenomenon. Lightening struck
fifteen cattle. In
its natural state, lightning strikes in a single
place destroying an object
or objects in that place. In this particular
incident, it struck each
of these animals creating bloody holes from
their asses to their heads.
Birds walked through the gaping holes.
Fifteen animals not particularly
huddled together stricken at the same
instant and left with holes
in their bodies. This man has power." He
banged his fist on the steering
wheel to emphasize that last sentence.
"Holy shit!" Paula shuddered. "That's eerie. You sure he did it?"
"I have studied this man
for several years now. I know what he's done.
Let me put it simply.
You know how voodoo dolls are supposed to work;
stick a pin into its arm
and the victim feels pain in their arm? Well,
when Ssebastian sticks a
pin into a doll's arm, you feel a pin sticking
into your arm, and you bleed.
It's bloody direct."
"I have a feeling this is
gonna work, Jeff," Paula said, rubbing his
thigh. "If he can do it,
we got it made, babes."
"I have no doubt he can do it." Geoffrey was confident.
At noon they stopped at Nakuru
for lunch. The ate hoagies on the
terrace taking in the view
and perhaps trying to bring back those Boston
College memories.
Geoffrey truly enjoyed those days and had fallen in
love with Paula.
"I know you're gonna make
a bundle out of this," He spoke dabbing at
his mouth with a napkin.
"What are your plans afterwards?"
"You know, Jeff, I was just
thinking that I'm almost thirty and, well,
this witch and psychic stuff
was just a hobby, sort of an experiment out
of curiosity. I don't
find it cool anymore." She paused to take a sip
at her drink. "What
I'm trying to say is that I wanna settle down and
get married, have a couple
of kids." She bit into the sandwich.
"Really?" Geoffrey felt jealousy
creep into him. "And who's the lucky
bloke?" He asked, his voice
cracking.
"Oh, someone close. Very close." She reached over and kissed him.
"I'm beginning to like this
country. I'll try a few years here and see
how it works out."
She kissed him again then smiled sweetly.
"You got me off guards, for
pete's sake, Paula." The Englishman
blushed. "This is
wonderful. Do you really mean what you're saying?"
"Why should I say it if I
didn't? Do you remember BC?" Her eyes
searched for a twinkle in
his and found it. "At times I thought I
couldn't make it through
the day without you. You know, all this time
we've been apart, I haven't
really dated anybody. Lately I've been
thinking of those college
days and wondering if we could make the same
magic we made back then.
I now know we can."
"We were lovebirds then,"
Geoffrey smiled at the memories. "It was a
time when I needed someone
to share my feelings with. I, too, miss
those days like hell.
You were, and still are, the most fabulous woman
I've ever known."
"Why, thank you. You ain't half-bad yourself."
"Not at all."
"We had fun in those days.
Remember the nights out for pizza or
cheeseburgers?" she asked
gazing at him.
"Yes. You always had
a strawberry shake. What's the name of that
place?"
"Gina's. I was there not long ago."
"Gina is a nice lady." He
paused then said. "Paula, promise me that
you'll be back really soon
cause I don't think I want to be without you
anymore."
"I promise," she said in a raspy whisper.
He bought her flowers before
they left. They arrived at Kitale just
before two and reserved
a room at Kitale Hotel
before proceeding to
Ssebastian's, about twenty
miles from town. The roads were dusty and
bumpy.
Ssebastian lived in an old
colonial that was built, and originally
owned, by an English biologist.
The house was built on a two thousand
acre piece of land, half
of which was a game reserve with all kinds of
tame, wild and exotic creatures.
Most of the other half was habitat to
plants of every nature.
Witchcraft is the coming together of Man, beast
and the earth. Numerous
creatures and plants are used in the craft.
Ssebastian did not need
to go out searching for anything. He had it all
here.
Paula was surprised when
a man, probably in his late forties and
dressed in a business suit,
turned out to be Ssebastian. She had
expected some ancient, withered
man in skins or something.
"Jambo, bwana Ssebastian," Geoffrey greeted the well-dressed African.
"Habari yako, bwana Preston?" How are you?
"Njema, hasante."
Fine, thank you, Geoffrey replied. Though
Ssebastian spoke English,
he preferred to converse in Swahili, a
language Geoffrey spoke
fluently.
The interior of the house
was magnificent with great African paintings
and wood and stone carvings
all around. It looked like a museum. All
this was different to Paula,
so distant, like being on a different
planet. She looked
around as the men discussed business.
"Memsahab ana mbwa?"
Does the lady own a dog? Ssebastian asked. Of
course she did. In
fact she owned several. Was she willing to lose
one? For what she
was getting paid, she would be willing to lose all of
them.
"Do you have hair or anything from one of your dogs?" Geoffrey asked.
"My poodle, Kiki, sheds a
lot. I wouldn't be surprised if I had her
hair on my clothing." She
checked on the clothes in the car and sure
enough found Kiki's hair
on her coat.
The men talked some more.
"He would like you to pick
a day and time when you want to see the
demonstration."
"Demonstration?" she asked.
"Yes, dear. He's gonna
demonstrate on the bloody dog." Geoffrey wore
a sly smile. He surely
was enjoying this.
"Okay, how about next Thursday
at ten in the morning." She figured she
would be home by then.
The men figured out when that would be in Kenyan time then shook hands.
"That is it. We wait
for Thursday then we come back with some personal
item from the victim, if
I may call him so. You pay Ssebastian and it's
done," Geoffrey stated.
"That... that easy?" Paula said, flabbergasted.
"Yes."
As they drove back to the
hotel, Paula could not believe that
Ssebastian was capable of
performing any supernatural act.
"Is he really gonna hurt
Kiki? I mean, what can he do with a
strand of hair?"
"I didn't select him for
nothing. Expect something bloody awful. If I
were you, I'd forget about
calling the dog by its name."
They were back in Kitale
at five. Before retiring to the hotel, they
went about town so Paula
could do some shopping. She bought curios;
clothing and a necklace
made of metacarpal bones and teeth --
Faux human skeletons.
Later on, they dined in the
restaurant of the hotel before retiring to
their room.
"You know, last night I was
kinda tired with jet lag and all but
tonight I'm ready for a
whole lotta loving," Paula announced slipping
into the bathroom.
"So am I," Geoffrey mumbled,
thinking, she was tired last night? But he
was getting aroused thinking
of the sexual marathons they had at BC.
She came out in the hotel gown.
"Not exactly sexually exciting, Paula," he snickered.
"Just don't take long in
the bathroom, buster. I'll be waiting. And
you know how I hate waiting."
She flickered her tongue in a way that
once drove him crazy - and
apparently still did. He was in the bathroom
in a jiffy. He came
out in his gown.
"Wow, that is so sexy!"
She chided. He wiggled a bit and peeled his
left lapel to reveal his
hairy chest.
"More," she cheered him on.
"Take it all off, beefcake."
He dropped the gown
and stood stark naked before her.
"So much for stripping." She frowned.
"Give me a bloody break. Strut your stuff."
She was under the sheets.
Slowly, she curled up at the head of the bed
then crawled out from under
the covers. She had on a tiny, flimsy red
nightie. On her hands
and knees, she slowly ambled towards him.
"Remember the first time
we spent the night at my parents' house?" she
asked in a girlish voice
as she crawled forth. "I sneaked into your
bedroom and you were terrified
my parents would find out." She
sensuously licked her lips
teasingly.
"The bed squeaked a lot."
Geoffrey's heart was pounding so hard he
could barely speak.
"We were quick, weren't we?
Huh?" Paula fell flat on the bed, her legs
slightly apart. His
eyes were on those long legs and the bottom that
was only half-covered by
the little nightie. She had nothing on
underneath. She rolled
over and spread her legs invitingly. "Welcome,"
she beckoned. He was
hard as a rock.
When the plane touched down
at Logan International Airport in Boston,
Paula was so tired she had
to drag herself out. She took a cab to Lynn
and went straight to bed
after picking up the dogs from the Pet Hotel.
It was three in the afternoon,
Wednesday. She woke up at eight that
evening thinking that she
was still in Kenya. When she realized that
she was home, she was scared
she might have overslept and missed Kiki's
fate, whatever it was.
She washed up, fed the dogs,
ate, then watched television. After the
evening news, she read her
mail. Most of it was from her clients who
requested aid for such diverse
problems as impotence, fertility, beauty,
and knowledge. Ms.
Connors had advised many on these and other
matters. Now she was
sure she did not want to do it anymore. She
wanted a marriage and kids.
No more hocus-pocus. She now knew that
this would be her last job.
She was getting more than enough money for
retirement. Imagine
that. Retirement before thirty. What a wonderful
dream come true.
The following day was the
worst Paula had ever lived through. She woke
up at six, fed the dogs,
cleaned the house and had breakfast. The
cleaning lady usually came
in Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays so
Thursday was pretty much
a safe day for privacy.
At nine-thirty, she took
Kiki down to the basement. She locked her in
a small storage compartment
about six feet by six. There was a small
hole in the door through
which Paula looked. Kiki did not like the
small, empty room she was
in. She scratched at the door and moaned
softly, her eyes pleading.
For a moment Paula felt so guilty she almost
removed her from the compartment.
But ten million dollars is a huge
price for a dog. Instead
she rushed upstairs and got some tape and
clothing. She taped
the dog's mouth and tied the cloth over it's head.
Just like an execution.
She pushed it back into the tiny room. Now
Kiki could neither see nor
cry out.
When it happened, it was
so sudden Paula let out a short scream. She
had been building this mental
defense that Ssebastian could not do a
thing.
Kiki was dragged, by an invisible
force, into the center of the room.
The hairs on the dog's back
stood on ends. There was danger in the
air. Paula could feel
it too, kind of electric. A scary thought
invaded her mind; lightening.
What if he set lightening on the house.
She recalled what Geoffrey
had told her about lightening. An entire
house had been blown to
smithereens!
The dog's hind leg was chopped
off. Paula winced as the dog whined
painfully. Blood splattered
from the wound. Kiki tried to scamper away
but something held her in
place. She was flipped on her back. Paula
watched in disbelief as
a thin, clean cut ran from the dog's chest down
it's abdomen. The
skin was then ripped away from the meat, with a tearing
sound.
He was skinning the dog alive.
From four thousand miles away. There
was no visible weapon.
Paula felt her stomach heave so she could not
look anymore. She
heard chops and the breaking of bones. It was a
sickening sound. With
a glance into the room, she ran up to the
bathroom where she emptied
her entire breakfast. She was shaking like a
leaf when she walked out
of there.
Kiki had been hacked to pieces that were carefully placed in her hide.
Paula had done things for
people but that was all psychological. An
impotent person is so because
of his feelings. If he can be convinced
otherwise, he can control
his biological self mentally and turn potent.
All she did was boost their
confidence. Kiki did not believe she was
going to be cut to pieces.
Kiki was a dog. Who was this Ssebastian?
Much, much later, Paula buried
Kiki's remains in the garden. She was
ill for days. No meat
on her diet whatsoever.
On Tuesday, she met the vice
president at Gina's. He looked pleased so
she assumed he had acquired
everything she had requested.
"I got everything you need," he said after sitting down.
"Good. Everything's
perfect on my side too. It can be done. I can
handle it so well you'll
be amazed."
"All right. What's next?" He was excited.
"Well, you give me the stuff and payment in full - and that's it."
"Okay." He handed her
a bag. She unzipped it, revealing a small sack
with the stuff and a bigger
one filled with diamonds.
"Trust me, they're real and worth more than ten million," he told her.
"I thought it would be easier with gems than cash."
"You're a smart man, you know that?" she complimented him.
"I only want the job done well. That is all I ask." He smiled lightly.
"Don't worry. It'll
be something you never imagined." She meant it
too.
"I guess this is good-bye." He said.
"Oh, I forgot one important thing. When do you want it done?"
"Yes. Well, he'll be
on vacation in two weeks." He took out a calendar
and checked dates. "Hey,
how about Friday the 13th?"
"Perfect."
"I knew you'd like that."
"What time?"
"Noon is okay."
Paula scribbled the information in her weekly planner.
"I think I have everything, sir," she said.
"Let's get on with it."
He looked a bit worried. Paula reached across
the table and touched his
lips with her finger. A thrilling sensation
went through his body.
"Cheer up, sir," she said.
"Everything's going to be roses from now
on."
He smiled, abruptly stood up and left.
That is the last time she saw him.
She waited a few minutes
then picked up the bag and walked out. She
expected a tap on the shoulder
or a bullet in her back. Nothing
happened.
Paula spent the following
week packing and shipping her belongings to
Kenya. She opened
an account in Nairobi, sold the diamonds in New York,
opened several accounts
there and set up gradual monetary transfers to
the Nairobi account.
Her neighbors gladly took the other two dogs. She
informed her clients that
she would no longer provide them with her
services.
It never occurred to her
that she was conspiring in the murder of a
president. A major
assassination. Maybe it was too great an endeavor
that it caused partial mental
paralysis. Or maybe it was the ten
million dollars that flushed
any scruples and morals she ever had down
the drain. Either
way, Paula considered the event a business
transaction.
Back at Ssebastian's, Paula
and Geoffrey were ushered down to the
basement by a young man.
The large cellar was filled with artifacts
ranging from live snakes
and giant tarantulas to smoked genitals of
jackals and hyenas to stuffed
lions, leopards and cheetahs to a
full-length human skeleton
that Geoffrey later told Paula belonged to
Ssebastian's grandfather.
Paula was careful not to
leave anything of hers in the place. She
recalled Kiki with a shudder.
There was no place to hide from
Ssebastian. The witch
doctor was in his traditional garb; a collage of
colorful coats of numerous
animals and a head dress of feathers from
over fifty different species
of birds. He looked magnificent.
While the men discussed price,
Paula looked around. The snakes hissed
and writhed in their pits.
Insects made noises she had never heard
before. It was spooky
down there.
Eventually, it was over.
Ssebastian wanted an equivalent of ten
thousand dollars.
Paula gave him twenty. She had plenty, what did she
care. She wanted to
get out of there on good terms with Ssebastian.
That she did. They
left, Paula hoping she would never again set foot in
that house.
At Kitale Hotel, Geoffrey surprised her with an engagement ring.
"You're getting romantic
in your olden days, Jeff," she said, kissing
him.
"Who are you calling
old?" he retorted. "I'm just getting started.
If you thought I was hot
stuff before, wait till our bloody honeymoon."
"So when are we getting married?"
Paula was anxious to settle into her
new life.
"We can have a small,
private wedding on Saturday right after the
action."
"I'm all for it. Wow! A real wedding. This could be fun."
"Of course it will be fun."
Geoffrey kissed her. "We're fun people,
aren't we? I think
we have too much bloody fun."
"Too much?"
"Just enough."
"Anyway, where are we gonna spend our honeymoon?" She wanted to know.
"Glad you asked. First
we'll go down to the beach in Mombasa, then
we'll visit a couple of
national parks since you haven't really seen any
wildlife - not counting
Ssebastian's. After all this is the tourist
capital of the world."
"You love to brag, don't you?"
"Only the truth, lass. Only the truth."
"Don't call me lass. It sounds like some animal."
"I'm sorry, Mrs. Preston."
"Much better." She kissed him.
*************************
They saw it on the news at
Geoffrey's house in Nairobi. She had never
told him who the victim
was but he had guessed. Like he said, he was
not exactly a stupid bloke.
There was some emergency about a situation
in the Middle-East so a
press conference was held. The entire episode
was broadcast live worldwide.
"Did I mention that Ssebastian
is a damn bloody show-off?" Geoffrey
asked.
"No, but I figured that after Kiki. The man is a lunatic."
"He just wouldn't send a
bullet to the head. No, he had to suspend the
poor fellow in mid-air,
disembowel him and scatter his bloody innards
all over the place.
That's disgusting."
A little while later, it
was confirmed that the vice president had died
of a massive heart attack
at the scene.
"What a turn of events."
Paula said. "We're home free." She switched
off the television and climbed
on him. "Make hot, passionate love to
me, my dear husband."
"You got it, wife."
