Tuesday, March 1, 2016

Labosonline Short Story: The Vendetta

The cloud had gathered threateningly, John knew he had to hurry. Rain was the last thing he needed now. He hurried through the Saturday morning crowd. Ebere would be at the bus stop in six minutes. He was always on time.

 He pushed his way through the crowd, shoving and getting shoved. His mind was working even as he hurried, he had to get them to be on his side, both of them. Not only would he gain a lot if it worked out well, he would also be killing another bird, a very bad bird.

He had successfully pushed himself out of the crowd and the was now standing at the designated spot waiting for his colleague. In two minutes, he had glanced at his wrist watch eight times. He was restless this morning. Ebere had better hurry, he thought as thunder clapped dangerously and the fifth corporate beggar approached him with a large smile, a big folder and a bigger lie. The scowl on his face deepened and just then Ebere appeared and the rain started.

Eberechukwu saw the scowl on John's face and smiled, he could guess why he was angry. “ He was showing you the way of salvation?” he asked smiling.
“Who? Oh, that guy? No…a corporate beggar” John answered and relaxed. He knew why Ebere thought he was a preacher.
“Only a street preacher is capable of making you this angry” John nodded. He knew what Ebere was talking about. A man who had pretended to be a preacher had robbed him with a knife several months ago and he’d been wary of street preachers ever since.

“Ebere, have you spoken with the boss?” John changed the topic and edged out of his seat as far as the seat belt would allow.
“Yes I have, but I must tell you that the boss and I are on the same page in this. Its not as easy as you think” Ebere knew it was coming, he had always respected John as a journalist, one of the best on the paper. His style of writing went beyond the journalism borders, he was flexible and very creative. He could make the silliest of stories very interesting, but something told Ebere that he was biting more than he could chew.

“What do you mean on the same page?” John frowned and tried to edge farther off his seat. He couldn’t.
“John, we can’t break that stories without facts. We need pictures, we need empirical evidences that buttresses your claim in that story. We are dealing with a serving Senator, we can’t just accuse him of murder. We need to be sure he was dating that actress- what’s her name…?”
“Ella”  John murmured
“yes, Ella. We can not base our story on speculations” Ebere said manoeuvering into the road that would take them to the paper. John shifted in his seat and turn to look at Ebere.

This story was his story, the sources were his sources. He had written it as perfectly as possible and submitted to the boss- his editor. With the story were individual photos of Ella and the Senator, but the boss had asked for photos of the dead girl with the Senator
“I want something neat! Give me something I can defend. Get a picture of him f**king the girl, or of the girl dead on his bed! Can’t work with this shit” he had hollered after reading John's story. He had even assigned Ebere to him. A sign that he was interested in the story, just cautious because of the politician involved.

He looked at Ebere now “Ebere, have you read the story?” he asked calmly, betraying the turmoil he felt inside. The latter shook his head “The boss wouldn’t let me” he replied.
“Remind me to show you. The story is well written I must say. My source insists that Ella died in his house, but she was moved out to her house that same night. The public already knows that Ella the actress died in her lover’s house. All I’m doing is telling them that Senator Willy is the liver!” his voice had reason to a sharp falsetto, he should watch it now. He was over reacting…from where Ebere stood at least. He calmed down. Searched his colleague’s face for reactions, got none then he continued.

“See, I am working on another close source. She promised to give me shots of her chats with Ella before she died. They were friends and colleagues, she confided in her.” He said. He would use that if he must. He had the chats already. Vivian had given them to him, but he had intended to use that for the second story, he wouldn’t mind using those now.
“Can we get that?” Ebere asked
“I think we can. She’s scared but she’ll cone through. We can’t mention her name though” John’s palms were hot now. He needed this story out. So much, more than they all knew. The world must know about the evil called Senator Willy. The man who killed the love of his life, Ella, just because she was having his baby!

Bose Bamidele

No comments:

Beatrice... A Tale of Love, Trust, Betrayal and Revenge! (1)

Tears stung and burned my eyes as I sat in the rickety bug infested bus that would take me to my destination. I shut my eyes tight in den...